The Captain's House
The Captain's House has been subject to local stories for many years. It stood in ruin for over one hundred years before being renovated in the late 1990s. Two stories about the history of the unfinished house have been speculated. One story stated that the house belonged to a sea captain who was building the house from him and his fiancée, but her death left the house unfinished in his grief.
The second story is that the house once belonged to Dr Motyer who was known for exploiting the local's ignorance of medicine over a century ago. Reportedly he sold 'cures' for witchcraft and scared the locals around Mallams with unearthly sounds and screams at night. In the Free Portland News issue of August 1990, Geoff Kirby published his own story of the house's history:
| “ | Known either as the 'Doctor's House' or 'Captain's House', it was originally owned by Dr. Motyer whom Stuart Morris describes in his illustrated History of Portland as a quack and a conjuror. A photograph dating from the mid-1800s shows the building with a roof, however, it was derelict by the turn of the 19th century. Dr Motyer was one of the last alchemists who worked to turn iron and lead into gold. One fateful night in March 1868, residents of Underhill were shaken from their beds by a fantastic explosion. They ran out in their night attire to see the old doctor's house blown to bits. The roof was totally gone and only a few cracked walls were left standing. By the light of the following dawn a fantastic sight was seen by locals. The fatal explosion must have culminated in the doctor's alchemical success since the entire area around Artist's Row, Mallams and Kings Street was speckled with gold. There were chaotic scenes as the locals dug and sieved every square inch of their gardens. | ” |
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Famous quotes containing the words captain and/or house:
“The curse of hell upon the sleek upstart
That got the Captain finally on his back
And took the red red vitals of his heart
And made the kites to whet their beaks clack clack.”
—John Crowe Ransom (1888–1974)
“They are all gone away,
The house is shut and still,
There is nothing more to say.”
—Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869–1935)