Excerpt from Henry S. Nourse’s “History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts 1732–1893,” written in 1894.

The flora and fauna of Harvard differ in no essential respect from those of all inland Massachusetts. The greed of the hunter, the wood chopper’s axe and the march of civilization long ago exterminated all the higher order of predatory and fur-bearing quadrupeds—the wily fox excepted—as well as all the larger wild animals valuable for human food.

Thus have disappeared many beautiful and useful creatures that were familiar to the Nashaway pioneers. The swan, noblest of wild fowl, was occasionally seen, and gave name to the long swamp in which Still River has its source. The wild turkey was found in flocks in the woods by the first settlers, and hence the original name of Lunenburg—Turkey Hills.

Another bird now nearly extinct in New England, but once so numerous as to materially add to the food supply, is the passenger pigeon. During the seasons when berries and acorns were abundant, immense flocks of these birds appeared, sometimes descending upon the grain fields like a devastating army. Thousands were yearly slaughtered by gunners, but the most deadly agency used for their destruction was the pigeon-net, by which more than a hundred at a time were often captured while feeding upon the decoy beds.

The pinnated grouse, better known as the prairie-chicken of the West, was probably once common here. Beaver dams are mentioned in old deeds. There was one upon the brook between Bare Hill Pond and Pin Hill, visible in revolutionary days; and the name Beaver Brook is a reminiscence of the most valued of the rodent family once common here, but the first species exterminated.

The elk and the moose we know sometimes fell victims to the hunter’s skill, and on the river near the Harvard and Bolton line was a “place where the deer do cross.”

December 15, 1739, Thomas Wheeler and Jacob Gates were elected in town-meeting “to take care of ye Deer,” and thereafter deer reeves were among the town officers annually chosen until sometime in the present century. Their duty was to prosecute those killing deer unseasonably. No record is found of a deer’s having been captured or even seen in Harvard for 25 years.

That magnificent but bloodthirsty feline, the cougar or catamount—which the Pilgrims thought a lion—was not rare, as the bounties paid by various towns show. Bears were less common, but wolves and wild-cats so abounded and were so inordinately fond of fresh pork, lamb and veal, that their nightly depredations drove the farmers almost to despair. In the year of Harvard’s incorporation, the bounty paid for a wolf’s head was four pounds, and for that of a lynx one pound. A local hunter and trapper earned 36 pounds in bounties that year by killing five wolves and 16 wild-cats.

Raccoons, grey squirrels, and musk-rats, as well as foxes, were numerous enough to be pursued as vermin, the provincial laws offering a substantial reward for their destruction. They all have continued to plague the husbandman in spite of law, and are sufficiently numerous at the present day, though far more wary than of old.

Elisha D. Stone, a well known farmer of Still River, thoroughly versed in Reynard’s habits, has trapped 294 foxes within 21 years—1871–1892—on his own premises. One year he caught 20. Occasionally a coon is seen, and now and then an otter. Within 10 years several hedge-hogs have been killed. The beautiful summer or wood duck continues to nest on the banks of the Nashua, and various migratory water fowl pay transient visits, as of old, to the great pond. The osprey frequents its shores, the weird cry of the great northern diver is heard in summer, and sometimes a storm-driven gull is said to find a temporary harbor here.

Of trees noteworthy for their size Harvard has but few. An aged sycamore or button-wood before that fine specimen of the architecture of Revolutionary days, the Captain Thaddeus Pollard house in south Still River, now owned by Isaac H. Marshall, measures 15 feet in girt at the height of five feet from the ground. The largest elm in the town is that by the dwelling of John Hines on Makamacheckamuch’s Hill. Its once magnificent vase-like crown lost much of its symmetry by a stroke of lightning a few summers ago. Its trunk is 17 feet in circumference at the height of five feet from the ground, swelling to 21 below, where the huge buttresses from the roots emerge from it.

275 Years of a Town:  In June 1732, the town of Harvard incorporated within the colony, after nearly 100 years of settlement in the area and several years of petitions, objections, and re-petitions to the legislature. To celebrate this milestone, the Press is running extracts from Henry S. Nourse’s History of the Town of Harvard Massachusetts 1732–1893.