The Local History Room started some time ago, and while the exact date may never be known, the point of initiation is clear: a box of memorabilia carefully kept somewhere in the Frederic C. Adams Library.
At some point during her tenure, which stretched from the Library’s founding in 1898 to her retirement in 1936, Jennie F. McLauthlen “1st Librarian” wrote this undated note
It has been my object to slip into this box anything which may promise to be of local interest in the years to come. After a generation or two, a picture of the life of Kingston in these days as shown by this varied and heterogeneous collection may prove of value as well as of interest. At times it may look like a collection of trash, but I trust that my successors may consent to give it house room and perhaps add to it samples of their history.
And consent we do! Thank you Jennie, for saving us from the trash.
To the despair of children everywhere (and likely to the joy of their parents), it is that time of year when the school year starts anew.
Here are Elspeth Hardy’s first graders at the Center Primary school on Green Street, now called the Faunce School. Mrs. Hardy taught generations of Kingston children in a career that spanned several schools and more than fifty years.
The text on the chalkboard tells us that “the body is the temple of the soul,” a lesson for all time perhaps.
Published in 1899 by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts’ Topographical Survey Commission, The Atlas of the Boundaries of the Town of Kingston describes the 18 corners marking the town limits and the seven “triangulation stations” used to locate the corners. The Atlas includes the statutes that formally defined the boundaries, textual descriptions, a scale map of the town along with details of each corner, two tables of geographical data and nicely captioned photographs.
Among the readily identifiable landmarks, such as Monk’s Hill, the Kingston Unitarian Church and the Standish Monument, is one known to many but now gone: Nick’s Rocks.
In the 1920’s Emily Drew wrote
Nick’s Rock on the line between the towns of Plymouth and Kingston, not far from Monk’s Hill is one of three rocks in Kingston which “testify” to the visits of the Devil as imprints of his feet and hooves prove “conclusively” that such visits were really made. The other two rocks are both called Devil’s Rock. One lies near Bay Farm and the other in the brick-kiln pasture near C. Drew and Company on Stony Brook.
Nick’s Rock was also used as a boundary marker for the town line between Plymouth and Kingston. Originally the rock marked the way for Nick’s Rock Road, which was the main road from the early Plymouth settlement. The road branched at the rock with one direction heading towards Plympton and the other towards the Flaxing Place at Smelt Pond.
The 1899 Atlas locate Nicks’ Rock on the line between corners 17 and 18, at latitude 41 57 35.95 and longitude 70 42 59.64, and describes the landmark as
situated in the boundary line between Kingston and Plymouth, in a thick growth of low scrub oaks, with scattering yellow pines, about 75 feet west of a wood-road. It is a well know point being marked by a rock about 10 feet high and measuring 12 x 15 feet on the top, which slopes to the southwest. A good view is obtained for miles to the south and west.
Nick’s Rock is gone now, though a marker in the median strip of the new Route 44 just west of the Cherry Street overpass commemorates this bygone stone.
Earlier this week the Patriot-Ledger asked “Have you had a penny lick, a hokey pokey or a toot today?” The paper went on to explain that before cones became the preferred holder, ice cream was eaten from a small glass (a penny lick), wrapped in a bit of paper (a hokey pokey) or scooped into a cup (a toot). Ice cream has been around awhile, but how long exactly?
Before mechanical refrigeration, ice cream and its well-chilled relatives depended on snow and ice either transported from colder areas or packed away during previous winters. It is unclear where or when ice cream was invented but the historical record shows that ancient cultures around the world — Egypt and Persia, Greece and Rome, India and China — all enjoyed sweet iced treats, though the expense generally limited the dish to the wealthiest elites.
In the 19th century, however, two American developments would democratize ice cream. First, in 1805 Boston businessman Frederick Tudor opened the first large scale commercial harvesting business, shipping New England ice as far away as the West Indies and around the country throughout the year. Then in 1843, Nancy Johnson of Philadelphia patented the hand-cranked ice cream freezer. By the later years of the 19th century, the combination meant everyone could enjoy an ice cream party.
In Kingston, ice cream could be bought in stores, restaurants. In the 1940s, Jordan’s Pharmacy on Summer Street in Kingston Center had a soda fountain, where school teams were known to stop in after practices at the Bailey Playground or the Reed Community Building.
Located on Main Street in the building that now houses the Charlie Horse restaurant, Dutchland Farms was known for its ice cream treats in the 1930s. By the 1940s, the building housed Leland’s Restaurant but ice cream remained on the menu.
Today, we are spoiled with the easy availability and many flavors of ice cream. It is still a favorite warm weather treat.
For almost 50 years, Sylvanus Bryant ran a mill located on Sylvia’s Place Road between Bryant’s Pond and Soule’s Pond in the Indian Pond neighborhood of Kingston.
As far back as 1721, several water privileges existed on Furnace Brook, Trout Brook and the man-made ponds that connect them. Around 1810, the Anchor Works (which actually produced spades and shovels) operated on the site of Bryant’s mill. Later, Daniel Bisbee and Henry Soule ran a nail and tack factory there. Next was Thomas Russell, who also produced tacks. In 1856, Sylvanus Bryant Jr. and Noah Prince set up a sawmill to make boards for boxes. By 1879, Bryant had bought out Prince; he continued to operate the mill until 1900.
This view, taken from the O.W. Stewart Preserve (part of the Wildlands Trust of Southeastern Massachusetts), shows some of the buildings around Bryant’s Pond. In the left foreground stands a small boathouse, and behind it to the right is the Bryant Boxboard Mill. Behind the mill, the Lyman-John Cushman house and barn can be seen, along with a dirt road that is today’s Sylvia’s Place Road. At the far left is the Deacon Cushman House, which today is 33 Indian Pond Road.
Long before the Red Sox/Yankees rivalry and even earlier than the infamous trade that took Babe Ruth from Fenway to the Bronx, a profound difference split the game we know as America’s past-time. There were actually two kinds of baseball – the Massachusetts Game and the New York Game. Derived from an earlier version called Town Ball, itself a descendant of the English game of rounders, the Massachusetts Game was not formalized until 1858 (see the rule book here ), while the New York variety followed the rules of the Knickerbocker Club, dated 1845.
The New England version was, in its time considered the rougher, less civilized game, in no small part because the fielders got the baserunner (called a striker) out by hitting him with the ball, a task so difficult that innings ended after only one out and games concluded as soon as one side scored 100 runs, no matter the number of innings completed. After the Civil War, the New York Game surged in popularity and crowded out the Massachusetts style.
Kingston had a town team by the last years of the 19th century, but very little information, beyond the names added to this photograph, can be found in the Local History Room. We do know that Bob Ford graduated from Kingston High School in 1898 (a classmate of Emily Fuller Drew), while Tick Ford (real name Winthrop) crewed on Henry Jones’ sail boat Kittiwake V and later served as a Kingston Water Commissioner. Based on their equipment, it seems that Carl Faunce pitched while Russel Soule caught. Otherwise, the exploits of the Kingston Town Team remain a mystery to us today.
Players: (standing left to right) John Gaegon, Fred Cooke, Bob. Faulkner, Bob. Ford, Tick Ford. (seated left to right) Ralph Seamore, Carl Faunce, Russel Soule, Jack Drew
So said the Old Colony Memorial newspaper on July 9, 1910.
The Jones River Village Club (now the Jones River Village Historical Society) had discussed for several months how to promote the state’s new restrictions on fireworks, which limited the use of blank cartridges, cannon rockets and other explosive means of celebration. The grand result: a Fourth of July parade for the whole town that the paper reported as “a great success in every way.”
Police Chief Ephraim Pratt served as Marshall. Houses along the parade route sported “handsome decorations.” The procession included riders, floats, automobiles and bicyclists.
Most of the floats were pulled by teams of oxen or horses. Above, what looks like a dirigible graces one gaily decorated wagon, while below, riders include a knight from the King Arthur Flour Company, a rough-ridin’ Teddy Roosevelt look-alike, a dude and a clown. Festive!
Many of the floats bore advertising, like the wagon of grocer E.S. Wright which pitched Sherwin Williams Paint, or the cart below, unfortunately not listed in the paper, which apparently touted somebody’s clams!
Source: The Old Colony Memorial, July 9, 1910; minutes of the Jones River Village Club, 1910.
This is Emily Burt Bradford, grandmother and namesake of Emily Burt Holmes Marvin, from whose family papers it comes.
It is a tintype, an early form of photography. The images on tintypes, like daguerrotypes and ambrotypes, were unique photographs captured directly, meaning there was no intervening negative. The underlying support for the image is also different: tintypes were “printed” on thin pieces of iron or steel, darkened by paint, enamel or lacquer. Also called ferrotypes or melainotypes, they were more durable than other early photographic images, which were produced on glass.
This particular image has no date, but tintypes were common from the1850s into the 1930s. And this one is small. How small exactly?
The spring is sweet for many reasons, not least of which is the end of the school year. These Kingston High School students, posed on the steps of that august institute of learning, probably looked forward to three months off as much as their counterparts today.
The old high school stands no more; the site on Main Street is now occupied by the Kingston Police Department. Dedicated on May 10, 1867, KHS served generations of students until replaced in 1955 by the brand new Silver Lake Regional High School. The school-age population had long outgrown the old building, which according to one newspaper account “was inadequate and unsound…in a state of condemnation by the State building inspector.” The KHS building stood vacant until October 1962, when it was demolished.