As a salute to those who are dealing with the infinite complexity of trying to educate students in the midst of the COVID-19 era, we turn this month to Acton’s school history.  Presented here are a few struggles of days past. 
 
One Teacher, Many Grades

In early Acton, the community seems to have viewed teachers’ role in the schools primarily as keepers of order rather than as educators in today’s sense.

As the 1891-1892 School Committee report noted, “Within the memory of some now living, a hundred scholars were in one school, with one teacher.  The discipline of the crowd was ordinarily enough for any master to manage, without wasting his strength on the minor matters of instruction. The little ones on the lower seats were pleased if they had one chance recognition in the course of the long day from the master in the desk.” (p. 48)

By the 1890s, expectations of teachers had changed.  By that time, teachers were supposed to instruct classes, rather than simply to hear students recite.  The problem with the new approach was that it was demanded of teachers whose working circumstances had not been adjusted to the new expectations.  Acton’s school committee report in March 1896 explained:

“There are at present seven grades in the East and North schools.  One of the best arranged daily programs of work I have seen for a school of seven grades called for thirty-three class exercises per day.  Allowing thirty minutes for two recesses, there are left three hundred, thirty minutes for thirty three class exercises, or ten minutes to a class, and this includes the time for all individual work.  This number of class exercises is altogether too many for satisfactory instruction and drill, but the East and the North schools have even more than that number.  It is an impossibility for a teacher to teach a class properly in ten minutes, and follow it up all day.” (p. 66)

In the larger schools, the issue was large class sizes coupled with a range of ages.  In Fall 1894  (p. 61), the South Acton primary teacher had 51 students enrolled in her classroom and not only had to deal with classroom management but also had to be prepared to teach four grades’ worth of material each day.  (Bertha Gardner, we salute you.)

The superintendent wrote in his March 1896 report that “To teach is to direct the work of the pupils, to show them how to study, to arouse their interest, to train them to habits of clear, concise, and connected expression, to examine their written work, to cultivate in them a love of study and lead them to investigate for themselves, to impart information, and to lead pupils to apply the things learned.”  (p. 66) That seems a little ambitious for ten-minute class periods.

 
Two Teachers, One Schoolhouse

In a brief entry in the 1863-64 Superintendent Report, we learned about a problem in the East Acton school.  “In consequence of some misunderstanding between the Committee and two female teachers who both laid claim to the school, it was decided to employ a male teacher for the Winter term.”  (p. 31) The logic behind that solution, unfortunately, remains a mystery.
 
Two Superintendents, One Town

A more open dispute occurred in 1884, when the School Committee managed to appoint competing Superintendents.  Rev. Franklin P. Wood and lawyer Frederick C. Nash had both served in that role in recent years.  In April 1884, missing one sick member, the Committee voted 3-2 for Rev. Wood to serve.  After a member objected that the full committee should have been present, a new vote was arranged at the home of the sick member.  The supporters of Rev. Wood refused to participate, calling the new vote illegal, leaving the supporters of Frederick C. Nash with the victory.  Nash started fulfilling the duties of Superintendent, Rev. Wood applied to the state’s Supreme Court for an injunction to stop Mr. Nash, and the Committee and the town split down the middle. (Boston Globe, Apr. 20, 1884, p. 1 and Apr. 23, p. 4)

Mr. Nash seems to have won that round, and education proceeded.  In the 1885-1886 year, Rev. C. L. Rhoades was appointed to replace Mr. Nash.  In his first report, he said that “Perfect unanimity has existed between members of the Committee, and between the Committee its Superintendent, during the year.”  (School Committee report, p. 1)  That optimism was tempered the next year with a report of unanimity except for interference from “outside parties, not parents of any children in the school(s)”  (1886-7 Superintendent’s report, p. 31)  Soon thereafter, a huge controversy broke out over a West Acton teacher’s disciplinary measures, the process used to investigate them, and the fact that the Superintendent was not allowed to speak in a meeting to defend himself.  Somehow Frederick C. Nash became involved in the hostilities, probably as part of the “outside interference” mentioned in the previous report.  The superintendent and three out of four members of the school committee resigned. (Boston Globe, March 14, 1887, p. 8)  Rev. James Fletcher was appointed in his place.  In a feat of longevity, he managed to last until the town joined (perplexingly) with Sturbridge and West Brookfield in a joint superintendency arrangement in the 1892-1893 year.  (Apparently, state aid was part of the joint superintendency deal.)

Blizzards are Good for Them

Since the beginning of Acton’s history, there has been recognition of the need to educate the town’s children, giving fair access to all.  However, deciding how to achieve that goal has been a source of disagreement.  There were always those who advocated for better schools, in one way or another, and those who resisted on budgetary or other grounds.  There was often contention over where schools would be located and how far students would have to travel to get there.  The 1851 School Committee report dismissed concerns from residents of the more remote areas of town:

“Parents generally fear the distance more than do the children.  What if they do face the winds and buffet the storms of winter?  It only makes them more hardy and more courageous.  Our children have bones and muscles as well as minds; while the latter are being developed by judicious training, the former must be enlarged and strengthened by constant and vigorous use, so that they may possess sound minds, healthy frames, and cheerful hearts.  Every obstruction removed, every obstacle overcome in their school-boy days, will prepare them for the earnest struggles of real life.  The boy or the girl who bravely treads the snow for long miles to school, is not likely to be a loiterer there; indeed, the tardy and the heedless are rarely those who must, every day, make a vigorous effort to be at school.”  (p. 13-14)
 
Eventually, students who lived far from school were, at times grudgingly, given transportation.  Students who lived nearer were still on their own (within 1.5-2 miles in many cases, according to the Superintendent’s Report, 1914, p. 20).  Even after the transportation of students from outlying areas was the norm, it kept being either cut or threatened with cuts.  In their 1895-96 report, (p. 54), the school committee recommended against transporting high school students because “this expenditure is altogether disproportioned to the benefits resulting from it.  Parents sufficiently ambitious for the future of their children to send them to the High School ought ... to be willing to provide for their transportation.”  (The school committee wanted to hire staff with the money used on transportation.   Having a high school at all was a new and contentious issue.  See our blog posts about Acton High School in the 1880s and  the political drama over building a new high school in town.)  

Horse-drawn school barges were not a particularly quick mode of transportation.  This became more of an issue with the advent of automobiles competing for the road. The difference between today’s attitudes and yesterday’s showed up when the Superintendent recommended that school-barge drivers should move far over to let automobiles pass, both when the cars signaled from behind and when they approached from the front: “They [barge drivers] are charged with the protection of the children, not with the assertion of their legal rights-to-the-road.” (1915 Superintendent report, p. 21)  Today’s drivers behind a school bus might consider that at least they are not stuck behind a horse.
 
Rocky Acton Provided Great Recess Materials

Recess could be perilous.  When safe equipment was not available, apparently rocks would do.  In 1908, Theron Lowden was playing “Duck on the Rock” during recess and was hit by a stone as he was picking up one to launch himself.  We will leave aside the gore in the report, but Theron was “without the use of his right hand for some weeks.” (Concord Enterprise, May 13, 1908, p. 8)
 
It’s all the Teacher’s Fault, Ventilation Edition

For those who have been following the complications of preparing schools for in-person learning in the era of COVID-19, it may be interesting to note that ventilation issues in classrooms are not new.  What is different is that it was considered the teacher’s responsibility to keep the students well, regardless of the condition of the schoolhouse.  It was a no-win situation.  The 1879-1880 School Committee Report called for safe ventilation of school rooms “that so many pupils may not be detained from school by colds contracted there.  We trust our teachers will be more particular in the future in this regard.  Such care ought to be taken of the health of our pupils that they will be safer, when in charge of the teacher, than when they are at home.”  (p. 2)  Apparently, opening a window was considered the main danger.  The following year, the Superintendent wrote, “We hope, too, that better provisions will be made for ventilating the school-rooms.  Teachers too often open windows and expose the children to drafts of air.  Boards should be so arranged against the lower window sashes that this danger will be avoided.” (1880-1881 Superintendent’s Report, p. 8)

A few years later, the Superintendent raised the issue of air quality, this time because of the foul air  produced by coal stoves.  “In the absence of the janitor the teacher is ex-officio master of the situation, and his comfort and success, and that of the school, hangs largely upon the temperature and quality of the air in which the work is done. No amount of zeal or tact in conducting recitations will overbalance a vitiated atmosphere. One good current of air from the outside world will often settle problems in discipline and in arithmetic all at the same time.” (School Committee Report 1887-1888, p. 33)  One presumes that boards were no longer across the windows to keep them from being opened. 

As mentioned in our previous blog post on maintenance in Acton’s schools, the disagreement over ventilation continued for years.  Ventilators were argued over, installed, seen to fail, and argued over again.  Acton managed to defer improved ventilation systems in its schools even after having been ordered to install them by the state inspector, yielding to the argument that opening windows was adequate... and free.  (1891-1892 report, p. 45.)
Even after improvements were made, ventilation systems were still problematic.  Teacher Ella Miller wrote in her diary on March 16, 1911:  “Cold, blustering day, hardest to be out in this winter.  The ventilator cap blew off the top of the schoolhouse, just before school began.”  Obviously, school ventilation is a never-ending struggle.
 
Teachers Need to Work... But Not Necessarily for Money

In 1919, teachers had expected to be paid every other week for their efforts, as previously voted by the town.  It was socially unacceptable for female teachers to be demanding, but when the teachers had reached the four-week mark without pay, they expressed their annoyance.  (The janitors of three schoolhouses had also gone without their pay.)  The Sept. 25, 1919  Boston Globe ran a headline that “Two Acton Teachers Threaten to Strike” (p. 7), although it made sure to put quotation marks around the word “strike” in the article.  It also pointed out that two of the teachers did not live in town and had to pay for room and board, a justification for their speaking up.  (Others, including Ella Miller and Julia McCarthy, were local and apparently were expected to be patient.)  An unsourced clipping in the Society’s collection was headlined “Teachers Didn’t Mean Strike Talk.”  The article explained that the persuasive out-of-town teachers waited at the depot until the secretary of the school committee stepped off the train and convinced him that they needed pay.  Their approach apparently did not go over well in some parts of town, and a story circulated that teachers had threatened a strike and tried to “coerce the school committee into paying them.”  Whatever was said, the teachers did manage to get some pay, half of what they were owed, with a promise of the rest and prompt payment in the future.  (Boston Globe, Sept. 28, 1919, p. 14)  One hopes that the town made good on the promise.
 
The More Things Change...

Every school has issues to address, whatever the era.  Though we’ve focused on past Acton school issues that are different from today’s, some problems are universal.  Ella Miller’s diary of June 11, 1913 reported that “All of us at school are tired and sleepy.  Went to bed early.”  After all the adjustments of this year’s reentry into school life, one imagines that a few teachers and students might have experienced a day like that.

In August 1920, the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment gave women the right to vote in the United States.  Looking back from today’s perspective, one would expect the event to have been celebrated in the local paper, the Concord Enterprise, with a front page announcement and large headlines.*  In fact, the reporting was subtle enough that it was not clear from the paper when the key event actually took place.  The September 1 Enterprise did present a table on page six that broke down the states’ votes, classifying them by political party.  Among the twenty-eight “Republican” states that had ratified the amendment were Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island.  The “Democratic” ratifying states were Arkansas, Arizona, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, Utah, and finally Tennessee.  Connecticut, Vermont, Florida and North Carolina had not yet made a decision, and seven states had rejected the amendment.  (The Enterprise missed Oregon in its listing, so the totals did not actually add up to the necessary 36 states for ratification.)    

It had been a long, difficult slog to get the vote.  Women had to overcome a widespread belief that they were incapable of understanding important issues and of thinking for themselves.   They also had to deal with opposition to the idea of women venturing out of their allotted “sphere.”  Two examples from previous years’ Enterprise columns illustrate what women were up against.

During the 1895 Massachusetts campaign to allow women to vote in local elections, a letter appeared in opposition that stated that “... women, by the very nature of their being, their social and domestic duties, do not and cannot have a practical knowledge of the wants or needs of a large town or city. ... their political action will be governed by their prejudices...” (Oct. 24, 1895, p. 4)  This  opinion elicited a rebuttal that said in part “It is surprising that in this age of advancement and higher education of women, a man of average intelligence can be found bold enough to affix his signature to an article so foreign to reason and justice.” (Oct. 31, 1895, p. 4)  The South Acton writer of the rebuttal clearly overestimated the open-mindedness of the time.  Twenty years later, the Enterprise said in a supposedly fair-minded editorial: “There are a great many deep thinking, intelligent men who honestly oppose suffrage for they believe the success of the movement in this state would project women into a sphere for the activities of which they are totally unfitted.  They believe that the ideal balance maintained in the home would be destroyed and that no great good could be obtained through doubling the voting strength of the state.” (Oct. 27, 1915, p. 2)

World War 1 changed some attitudes.  Among the many ways in which women contributed during the war, women (including Acton’s Lillian Frost) went overseas to work as nurses, ambulance drivers, telephone operators, and in other support roles.  The June 18, 1919 Enterprise mentioned that at least 184 nurses had died as a result. (p. 6)  One week later, Massachusetts became the eighth state to ratify the nineteenth amendment.  No large headlines celebrated that event.  However, on July 2, 1919, the Enterprise editorialized that “with the advent of equal suffrage there will be a betterment of living conditions, greater equality, and protection of the rising generations.  There will be a cleaning-up of many filthy places, and a wiping out of the sore-spots that have disgraced the nation.”  (p. 2)  Clearly, when the women were finally able to vote in 1920, they had many expectations to deal with, some negative and others dauntingly optimistic. 

Once women’s suffrage looked poised to win, the Enterprise reported on efforts to ensure the success of women’s voting.  A critical piece was getting women to register to vote.  Because women could already vote for their school committee in Massachusetts, they could be enrolled as voters in advance of ratification.  (For more information about female school committee voting, see our blog post.)  When aspiring voters met with the board of registrars in their voting district, they had to show that they were citizens, at least 21, and able to read and write English and that they had lived at least one year in Massachusetts and six months in their voting district.  They were also expected to answer questions about parentage and nationality and to prove naturalization if necessary.  (Aug. 18, p. 4)  The first election in which they could fully participate was a primary in September 1920.  As pointed out in the Maynard column of the August 11 Enterprise, “With no district contests among the Democrats there is very little interest shown.”  The Maynard Republican Women’s committee, on the other hand, announced a number of reasons for registering, including participating in a great historical event, honoring the 70 years in which “some of the ablest women of America gave their lives to the winning of this right for women”, and helping to “elect men who will look out for the children’s welfare” and “secure good working conditions for you.”  (Electing women was obviously an issue for another day.)  If those weren’t good enough reasons, women should register because they didn’t “want it said that the women of Massachusetts were behind the women of other States in meeting the responsibilities of citizenship.” (Aug. 11, p. 1)

In Acton, registration was a success.  On Sept. 8, the Enterprise reported that in South Acton, forty-nine women (and nine men) registered (p. 1), while in West Acton, “At the meeting of the board of registrars Thursday night, the number broke all records, when 80 women were recorded and 14 men were added to the list.” (p. 5)  Acton Centre reported “quite a number” had registered for the primary and more were expected for the November election. (Sept. 22, p. 5)

Though fanfare about the first election was fairly minimal in the paper, the West Acton reporter noted on September 15, “The women of Precinct 3 are to be congratulated on their good work at the primaries last week, when they cast their first votes.  Mrs. Albert R. Beach cast the first ladies’ vote here.” (p. 6)

Getting women onto the voter rolls was not enough.  Women had to overcome people’s lack of faith in their abilities, judgment, and knowledge.  One way to combat low expectations was through education.  In Maynard, the Women’s Club sponsored a series of ten classes on government and the duties of citizenship. (Sept.8, p. 4)  In Acton, there was so much concern about women’s ability to handle the physical act of voting that lectures were held  to help: “A citizens’ meeting will be held in the vestry of the Universalist church on Thursday evening, Oct. 21, at 7:30 o’clock under the auspices of the Republican town committee.  Miss Grace Carruth of Boston has been engaged speaker and will address the meeting upon the subject ‘How to Mark the Ballot’ and will be prepared to answer any other questions of present political interest.  Similar meetings will be held during the afternoon of the same day at Acton and West Acton.  All persons interested are invited to attend.” (Oct. 20, 1920, p. 1)  The Acton Woman’s Club, a little behind, scheduled a speaker on Nov. 22 to help its members “in the study of simple non-partisan citizenship.”  (Nov. 10, p. 8) 

Election day came on November 2.  The first women voters in South Acton that day were Grace and Lyde Fletcher who had come back from Watertown the previous evening to be able to cast their ballots.  (Nov. 11, p. 8)  Another female voter in South Acton was Mary H. Lothrop who, with her husband Frank on the way to Florida, “took advantage of the privilege of absent voters and sent their depositions by mail.” (Nov. 10, p. 1)  The vote was especially memorable for South Acton’s Carrie Franklin.  Of obvious importance, she was able to participate in a historic moment, voting with her husband William in a national election. The surprise was that during the 45 minutes it took to cast their ballots and return, their home was burgled.  Money and Mrs. Franklin’s jewelry were stolen.  The perpetrators had apparently watched them leave the house.  It turned out to be three boys from Maynard, later found by the railroad tracks with Mrs. Franklin’s watch.

Overall, when the Enterprise reported on the election of 1920, it had to note that the women of Acton had managed to vote without disaster.  In South Acton, “Out of a total of 313 registered votes, 278 votes were cast, or about 89 per cent, which is probably the largest proportionate votes ever cast here.  The counting was completed and returns complete at 6:30 p. m.  The women manifested great interest and marked their ballots with ease and rapidity.” (Nov. 3, p. 4)  In West Acton, the report was, “No Ballots Thrown Out – With 347 voters in Precinct 3 there were 322 votes cast on election day.  Not one ballot was marked wrong which is a fine showing with so many new voters and a great credit to the ladies.”  (Nov. 10, 1920, p. 2)

The landslide victory of Harding and Coolidge over Democrats Cox and Roosevelt rated huge front-page headlines from the Enterprise on November 3, 1920.  In the following weeks, the paper mentioned more civics lectures sponsored by women’s clubs and organizational details about the League of Women Voters and the Women’s Auxiliary of the Foreign Legion.  In Maynard, there was talk of running a woman for the school board and forming a Parent-Teachers’ association.  There was obviously plenty of work needed to achieve the goals of improving living conditions, fostering equality, and protecting children; they would not happen magically because women could vote. 

When the Nineteenth Amendment officially became law on August 26, 1920, it was a milestone that was achieved after decades of struggle.  Its importance should not be underestimated.  At the same time, it has to be recognized that suffrage was not universal, given restrictions on who was considered a citizen and who was allowed to be registered to vote.  The work did not end that day.

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*All newspaper references here are to issues of the Concord Enterprise that at the time covered Concord, Concord Junction, the four Acton villages, Maynard, Sudbury and sometimes Bedford and Marlborough.  Sometimes a seemingly identical paper was published as the Acton Enterprise.

Gaining an understanding of a town’s history is complicated by the fact that some residents’ stories are much less accessible than others.  Standard town histories from the nineteenth and early twentieth century tended to focus on a small group of socially prominent citizens.  People of color were seldom mentioned.  Anyone trying to learn about the early black residents of Acton has had very little material to work with.  Records are sparse, and there are sometimes conflicts among the pieces of information that we do have.  To better understand early Acton’s racial diversity, we set out to find all mentions of black and mixed-race residents (slave or free) in Acton’s early records.  To do that, we used eighteenth- and nineteenth-century documents that sometimes refer to racial diversity with terms that we would not use today.  When quoted here, it is only to give accurate historical evidence about a person’s racial background.  There is much work left to do, but in collaboration with the Robbins House in Concord, we offer what we have learned so far.
 
We will start in 1735 when Acton was set off as a town from Concord.  We are hampered by lack of census records in the early days but will continue to look for more information.  We do have a definitive record that slavery existed in Acton after it became a town.  The 1754 Massachusetts slave census completed by the Selectmen stated that there was “but one male Negro slave Sixteen years old in Acton and No females.”  (The inventory asked for the number of slaves over the age of sixteen; the wording presumably meant that the male mentioned was in that category, rather than being exactly sixteen years old.)  We have no way of knowing if there were any younger slaves.  Unfortunately, the inventory did not list either the name of the slave or the slave owner.  As a result, we have no idea whether he was eventually freed and whether he stayed in town or moved on to another location.
 
Acton apparently also had free black and/or mixed-race residents during its earliest years.  We are still trying to document their stories.  In South Acton by 1731, there was a William Cutting who, according to a story in a published journal of Rev. William Bentley, (volume 2, page 148) was himself or descended from a “Mulatto” slave who “upon the death of his master, accepted some wild land, which he cultivated & upon which his descendants live in independence.”   (This story is still being researched; our various efforts to confirm those details have not yet been successful.  A 1731 deed from Elnathan Jones to William Cutting is extremely hard to read, but it mentions a purchase price paid to a living person, rather than a gift or inheritance.  Another 1732 deed from Elnathan Jones also seems to be a straight sale.  Probate records have not yielded clues, either.  A possibility is that the story was about an earlier ancestor in a location other than Acton.) 
 
An Acton’s Selectmen’s report dated Feb. 2, 1753 mentions a road being laid out, with one of the boundaries being “a Grey oke on Ceser Freemans Land.”  Both Cesar and Freeman were names associated with free African Americans of the period.  Cesar Freeman’s story is unknown at this point, so we do not know if other Freemans in town records are his relatives.
 
Harvard University has put online a transcribed and indexed version of the Massachusetts Tax Inventory of 1771.  This inventory reported the number of each taxpayer’s “servants for life.”  According to that database, there were two “servants for life” in Acton, assessed to Amos Prescott and Simon Tuttle.  (For relevant entries click here.)  We know nothing about the person assessed to Prescott.  However, it appears that Simon Tuttle’s “man” fought in the Revolution.  At town meeting on March 4, 1783, the town voted to reimburse Mr. Simon Tuttle for “the Bounty for his negro man which was Twenty four Pounds in March 1777 to be Paid by the Scale of Depreciation.”  Simon Tuttle was one of the Acton leaders who was charged with recruiting men to enlist from Acton, and it was common practice for the recruiters to pay bounties for enlistment out of their own pockets on the understanding that they would be reimbursed.  (Acton took such a long time about actually paying the men back that the value of currency completely changed and adjustments needed to be made “by the Scale of Depreciation.”)  The unique thing about this 1783 entry in town records is that the recruit was described at all, in particular his race and the fact that he was considered Simon Tuttle’s man.  We are not sure of the man’s name and have not found records to show whether he was enslaved when he went to war, though the bounty item makes it seem likely.  Without his name, it is hard to confirm if he ever received pay or the bounty for his service and what happened to him.  In 1783, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court had ruled that the new Massachusetts constitution was incompatible with slavery, though it is not clear that the practice ended immediately everywhere. 
 
Acton did have a free black population in the years of and following the Revolution.  John Oliver, listed in later census records (inconsistently) as a free person of color, enlisted for Revolutionary war service from Acton as early as April 1775.  John Oliver lived in North Acton in an area near the town’s borders with Westford and Littleton.  We are investigating whether there was a community of black and mixed-race residents in that area.  What we know about John’s life in particular was discussed in a previous blog post, and the location of his farm was discussed in another.
 
Another black Revolutionary War soldier with Acton ties was Caesar Thomson who appeared in Acton’s records after the war.  According to an article published by the Historical, Natural History and Library Society of South Natick in 1884 (page 100), Cesar Thompson was a slave of Samuel Welles, Jr., a Boston merchant and the largest landowner in Natick by the time of the Revolution.  When Natick needed men to fill its quota of soldiers, Mr. Welles sent Cesar, whose Revolutionary War service was extensive.  After serving for several years, he was “disabled by a rupture” and was actually granted a pension in January 1783.   (Pensions were granted to disabled soldiers, though full pension coverage for veterans was far in the future.) As stated in the 1884 article, Natick town records contain the following notation:
 
“Boston, Feb. 18, 1783.  This may certify, to all whom it may concern, that I this day, fully and freely give to Caesar Thompson his freedom.  Witness my hand, Samuel Welles.  A true copy.  Attest, Abijah Stratton, Town Clerk.”
 
After the war, free man Cesar Thompson lived in Acton. 

At the April 5, 1783 town meeting, a committee was appointed to figure out seating for the meeting house (a regular occurrence).  Seating arrangements were to take into consideration age and property, using the prior two years’ tax valuations.  It was voted that the committee was to “Seat the negros in the hind Seats in the Side gallery.”  Clearly, despite years of fighting for political freedom and equality of “all people,” Acton was not ready to grant equality to all of its own people.  (It should be noted that it was an era in which citizens paid for pews in the meetinghouse, which was not only a church, but the place were town meetings took place.  Presumably, pew placement denoted social status.)   In an 1835 centennial speech, Josiah Adams recounted a childhood memory that reveals how it must have felt to be one of very few people of color in the town at the time.  Young Adams would watch as Quartus Hosmer climbed the stairs to the “hind seat” of the gallery, eagerly waiting for him to reappear with his queue of “graceful curls” held back by an eel-skin ribbon.  (Adams, Josiah.  An address delivered at Acton, July 21, 1835: being the first centennial anniversary of the organization of the town, Boston: Printed by J. T. Buckingham, 1835, page 6)
 
It cannot have been comfortable to be a curiosity to young Actonians and to deal with attitudes made obvious by the meeting house seating vote.  Nevertheless, some residents of African descent stayed in Acton.  John Oliver farmed and raised his family with his wife Abigail Richardson.  (Their known children were Abijah, Joel, Fatima and Abigail.  We suspect, but have not yet been able to confirm, that there were others.)  Cesar Tomson/Thompson was mentioned in town records when, on January 27, 1785, he married Azubah Hendrick (both were of Acton), Azubah was admitted to the church, and their children were baptized (Joseph, Moses and Dorcas).  There is no record of what happened to Azubah, but Caesar married Peggy Green in Acton on December 1, 1785.  He also appeared in town records on Feb. 23, 1789 when his tax rate was abated. 
 
While researching the Thompson family, we discovered that other Massachusetts towns’ vital records might hold clues about Acton’s black residents.  In Natick, we found two birth records (on the page before the 1801 intention of marriage for Dorcas Tomson, then living in that town): 
 
“Moses Hendrick son of Benjamin and Zibiah Hendrick was Born in Acton September 15. 1780
Dorcas Tomson Daughter of Ceasar and Zibiah Tomson was born in Acton April 1. 1784”
 
In Grafton, we found a marriage intention between Polly Johns and “Moses Hendrick, ‘a native he says of Acton but now resident of Grafton,’ int[ention] Aug. 30, 1817. Colored.”  Until we found these two records, we had no idea that a black man named Moses Hendrick had been born in town. 
 
Another discovery was that at town meeting in August 1786, the town discussed suing Peter Oliver and Philip Boston “for Refusing to maintain Lucy Willard Child agreeable to their obligation.”  Though both names were associated with free people of color in nearby towns, we have not figured out exactly who these men were or what their connection was to Lucy Willard.  On March 19, 1792, the town paid Simon Tuttle Jr. for assistance given to Peter Oliver.
 
The first full census of the United States came in 1790.   Though only the heads of household were named, it gives us a more complete picture of the composition of the households in Acton.  The census asked for the numbers of free white males (16 or older and under 16), free white females, slaves, and “all other free persons.”  Acton had no slaves in this or later censuses.  The census taker seems to have had some issues with accounting for “other free persons,” and the census scan is in places hard to read, but from what we can see, the following households had free persons of color:

• Jonathan Hosmer’s household - 6 white people and 1 free person of color who lived in our Hosmer House, still standing at 300 Main Street.  Based on the name, we assume that this was the Quartus Hosmer mentioned in Josiah Adams’ recollections.
• Cesar Thompson’s household – 4 free people of color
• Possibly Abraham Hapgood’s household – 7 white people and possibly 1 free person of color (There was one free person of color in the total for that column, and it looks as if the mark is in the Hapgood household, but smudges make it hard to be certain.)

 
The census shows six total free persons of color out of the 853 people in 1790 Acton.  The seven people in John Oliver’s household were classified as white (2 males, 5 females), as were the nine members of William Cutting Jr.’s household (3 males, 6 females).
 
In the beginning of the 1790s, Acton worked to specify those who were not considered legal residents, a step toward defining its responsibility toward the poor.  The Revolutionary War had caused economic distress for many people in the new country.  There were no safety nets as we understand them today.  Then as now, towns were reluctant to tax people for any expenses that could be avoided.  Under the system that had been in place since the early days of the colony, towns could avoid responsibility for supporting poor people if they were not considered legal residents of the town.  Formally, this meant giving people notice that they had not been granted permission to live in town and that they should leave (and therefore that they had no right to expect help from the town if they stayed).  This process was called “warning out.” 
 
From about 1767 to 1789, warning out seemed to be dying out in Massachusetts.  However, a law change in 1789 led to a flurry of warnings out in Acton and elsewhere.  In the 1790-1791 period, town records show that 23 households were warned out of Acton.  Included were a number of Revolutionary War veterans and long-time inhabitants.  John Oliver and Cesar Thomson, their wives, and their children were on the list.  Both families stayed in town, as most warned-out people probably did in the 1790s.  As a practical matter, if those people become indigent, assistance would still have been given them, but the town, relieved of its legal responsibility, could petition the state for reimbursement.
 
Available in Harvard’s Anitslavery Petitions Massachusetts Dataverse is a July 1, 1796 petition from Jonas Brooks to the Commonwealth to reimburse the inhabitants of Acton for “considerable expense in supporting Caesar Thompson a negro man, together with his wife, three small children” who were “not legally settled in said Town of Acton or in any other town in said Commonwealth that your petitioner can find  - That he served as a soldier in the Continental army during the last war...”  The town sent a follow-up petition for state reimbursement in 1797.  As a former slave, Cesar apparently had no legal claim on Natick (despite filling its quota in the Revolutionary War) or Boston, where he might have lived before serving in the military.  After the petitions, we found no more records for Caesar Thompson; whether he died in Acton or moved, we were not able to determine.  We do know that his daughter had moved to Natick by 1801.
 
The 1800 census asked for more information than its predecessor.  Only the heads of Acton households were listed, but the ages of white inhabitants were broken out more carefully.  Acton’s census return had a column for the number of slaves and one for “All other persons except Indians not taxed.”  With entries in that somewhat perplexingly-named column were the households of:

• Francis Faulkner, 7 white individuals and 1 “other person” who lived at 5 High Street in the Faulkner House, still standing.
• Jonathan Hosmer, 10 white individuals and 1 “other person,” still at 300 Main Street.
• John Oliver(s), 5 “other” people, listed last in the census.

 
William Cutting Jr.’s household of seven was again listed as white.  Also of note in the 1800 census is that many of the warned-out families were still in town.
 
Acton’s vital records show that in December 1802, Sally Oliver married Jacob Freeman.  Their relationship to people of the same surnames in town is unclear (so far).  Sadly, Sally and Jacob had only a short marriage marked by tragedy.  Their son died on Sept. 3, 1803.  Jacob died on July 9, 1804 at age 45.  Acton’s death record specifies his race as negro.  (In early 1805, Amos Noyes, Joseph Brabrook, and Edward Weatherbee were paid for goods delivered to Jacob, presumably during his sickness.)
 
1810’s Acton census had a column for “All free other persons, except Indians, not taxed.”  Acton households with someone in that category were:

• John Oliver, 5 other free persons
• Simon Hosmer, son of Jonathan, still at 300 Main Street, 9 white people, 1 other free person
• Sarah Skinner, newly widowed, living at 140 Nagog Hill Road in a house still standing, daughter of Francis and Rebecca Faulkner, 4 white people, 1 free other person.  (Read more about Sarah Skinner in our blog post.)

John Oliver’s sons’ 1810 households were classified as white.  The household of Abijah Oliver had 1 male 45+, 3 females <10 and 1 female 16-25.  Joel Oliver’s household had 1 male <10, 1 male 26-44, 2 females 10-15, and 1 female 26-44.  William Cutting Jr. was also classified as white.

During the 1810s, town records show payments for some black residents in need.  Between 1813 and 1815, John Oliver was providing help to others, including Abijah Oliver and, when sick, “Abigal” Oliver and Sally (Oliver) Freeman.  In 1811-15, John Robbins and David Barnard were reimbursed for boarding “Titus Anthony.”  Later records give clues that he may have been black (see below).  (Probably relatedly, in March 1810, town meeting records mention a lawsuit by the town of Townsend against Acton “for supporting Hittey Anthony and Child.”)  Acton town meeting took up Titus Anthony’s case in September 1811; unfortunately, the discussion was not reported in the extant records.  In 1813, David Barnard was paid for providing for the poor and, separately, for “2 payment for the Negro” (name unspecified). 

1820’s census yields more information about black town residents.  In that year’s report, “Free colored Persons” had four columns each for males and females of differing ages.  Households with entries in those columns were:

• Aaron Jones, 9 white people and 1 male “free colored person” under 14
• Abijah Oliver, all “free colored persons” - 1 male under 14, 1 male 14-25, 1 male 26-44, 3 females under 14, 1 female 14-25, 1 female 26-44
• Nathaniel Hapgood, 6 white people, 1 “free colored” male 14-25
• Simon Hosmer, 10 white people, 1 “free colored” male 45 and over
• Jonathan Davis, 8 white people and “free colored persons” exactly matching the Abijah Oliver family- 1 male under 14, 1 male 14-25, 1 male 26-44, 3 females under 14, 1 female 14-25, 1 female 26-44
• Uriah Foster, 5 white people and 1 “free colored” male 14-26 and 1 male 45 and up
• Joel Oliver, all free colored persons: 1 male under 14, 1 male 26-44, 2 females under 14, 1 female 14-25, 1 female 26-44
• John Robbins, 8 white people and 1 “free colored” female under 14

1820’s total “free colored” population was listed as 17, which does not match the numbers given in the columns, so the accounting is uncertain.  John Oliver’s 2-person household was listed as white.  Regardless of the counting issues, there was obviously quite a community of people of color in Acton during the 1820s.  Most lived in the North and East parts of town.  The households of Jonathan Davis and Uriah Foster would have been near today’s Route 27 in North Acton.  John Oliver’s sons Abijah and Joel eventually moved closer to East Acton; land records indicate that their father helped with financing.

In 1830, federal census takers were given forms two page-widths across that specified ages and sex of both slaves and free people of color and had a “total” column for each family that should have encouraged accurate record-taking.  The only household in which free persons of color were enumerated was John Oliver’s:

• John Oliver, 12 “free colored persons” - 1 male 10-23, 1 male 23-35, 1 male 36-54, 2 females under 10, 2 females 10-23, 3 females 24-35, 1 female 36-54, 1 female 55-99.

John’s son Joel Oliver was listed as white, living with 5 white females.  Simon Hosmer’s family no longer was listed with a free person of color.  This jibes with the hypothesis that the “Quartus Hosmer” mentioned by Josiah Adams lived in the Jonathan/Simon Hosmer household.  In Acton’s vital records, the handwritten register of Acton deaths for 1827 shows:

“June 30 Quartus     a Blackman     61” 

The Hosmer name was not given in the death record.  (This entry was indexed on Ancestry.com as “Quartus Blackman,” but that is clearly an error.)  In Acton’s transcribed and published Vital Records to 1850, the listing appeared under “Negroes, Etc.”  That entry adds information from church records (“C. R. I.”):
“Quartus, ‘a Black man,’ June 30, 1827, a. 61 [State pauper, a. 64, C. R. I.]
 
A state pauper meant that the individual had no “settlement” status.  (Acton could not send him or her back to another Massachusetts town for financial support, but he/she was not officially accepted as having a claim on Acton either.)  By this time, if a person with no official claim on a town was in need based on age, disability, illness or poverty, he/she became, officially, a state pauper, and expenses incurred by the town would be billed to the state.  Apparently, former slaves often found themselves in this position (Cesar Thompson, for example), as well as new immigrants from overseas and anyone not connected to a town by family or marriage.  Quartus’ status as a state pauper means either that he was free but didn’t start off in Acton or that he had started out a slave.  If we are correct that the free person of color in the Hosmer household was this Quartus, he clearly had a long relationship with the family.  The available records do not give us much information about what the relationship was, but we have not found evidence that he had been enslaved by Acton Hosmers.  This Quartus was too young to have been the over-16-year-old slave in the 1754 census, though slaves younger than sixteen were not reported.  The 1771 tax valuation showed no Acton Hosmers with “servants for life.”  He could have been freed by then or could have been enslaved elsewhere in his early years and later entered the Hosmer household as a free working person. 
 
The 1840 census showed “free colored persons” in the households of:

• Luther Conant, 6 white people and 2 “free colored” males ages 10-23
• Rufus Holden, 6 white people and 1 “free colored” male age 24-35

 
The census shows the household of John Oliver, especially noted for being 92 years of age and a military pensioner, as white (1 male under 5, 1 male 5-9, 1 male 90-99, 1 female 5-9, 1 female 40-49).  His son Joel Oliver’s household is also listed as white, (2 males, 30-39 and 60-69, and 2 females, 15-19 and 50-59).
 
During the 1840s, many in Acton were advocating for an end to slavery in general and for improvements in laws affecting the lives of Massachusetts’ black residents.  A digitized 1842 petition from Acton to allow white people legally to intermarry with other races was signed by 70 women, including Abigail Chaffin who was most likely Abigail Richardson (Oliver) Chaffin, herself of mixed-race ancestry.  (Abijah Oliver’s daughter, she had married Nathan Chaffin, born in Acton to Nathan and Mary Chaffin.  After that point, records always seem to have classified her as white.)  Abigail Chaffin also signed two other anti-slavery petitions in 1842 ( Petition against admission of Florida as Slave State and Petition to abolish slavery in Washington, DC and territories and to end the slave trade).
 
Abigail Chaffin was remembered in a Chaffin family history (pages 269-270) as “one of the most remarkable women ever born in Acton, on account of the wonderful sagacity, industry and executive ability, which characterized her through the whole of her life and... together with mental and physical vigor, to a very rare age.  ...  Even after she was four score and ten she was able to do more for others than she needed to have done for herself.”  After the death of her husband in 1878, she moved in with her son Nathan who prospered in the restaurant business in Boston.  She lived in Arlington for many years, and she died in Bedford in 1911, after having “passed her last years not only in the possession of the comforts, but of the luxuries of life.” 
 
Back in Acton, the 1850 census, for the first time, listed the names of all residents of the town.  A column for race showed the following residents of color:

• Titus A. Williams, age 45, black, born Massachusetts, living in the poor house
• Abijah Oliver, age 87, black, born Massachusetts, living in the poor house

 
The race column for all other residents was left blank (including the 7-person household of Joel Oliver, Abijah’s brother).  The 1850 real estate valuation for the town shows Ephraim Oliver (son of Joel) with buildings valued $375, plus 40 acres of improved land and 20 acres of unimproved land; he was living with Joel at the time.  Abijah Oliver had been farming in East Acton, but obviously he was no longer able to care for himself.  It was not particularly unusual for the aged, regardless of race, to need assistance. 
 
Massachusetts took its own census in 1855.  We have noticed in the past that the Acton census taker that year was particularly careful in recording full names, and the census taker noted more information about race as well:

• Joel Oliver, 77, mulatto, blacksmith, born in Massachusetts.  In the household were:
  • Ephraim Oliver, 45, mulatto, farmer, born Massachusetts
  • Susan Oliver, 33, mulatto, born Massachusetts
  • Martha Ann Oliver, 30, mulatto, born Massachusetts
  • Also, three people whose race was left blank, presumably Caucasian: Esther Oliver (Joel’s wife), age 72, Henry Smith, age 16, Susan Maria Smith, age 12 (almost certainly children of Joel’s daughter Keziah and William F. Smith)
• In the Poor House, among others:
  • Titus Anthony Williams, 49, black, farmer, born Massachusetts
  • Abijah Oliver, 83, mulatto, farmer, born Massachusetts
• In the Household of Andrew Hapgood (farmer)
  • George Lewis, 20, black, farmer, born Massachusetts

 
We have not yet been able to find out where Titus Anthony Williams came from and how he ended up in Acton’s poor house.  The middle name reported in the 1855 census raises the question of whether the “Titus Anthony” who was receiving assistance in the 1810s was actually the same Titus Anthony Williams who spent many years in Acton’s poor house (occupation farmer).  If so, he would have been a young child when he first appeared in Acton’s records. 
 
By the mid-1800s, Acton was changing.  The arrival of the railroad brought new industry and new people to town, and events in Europe brought new immigrants who would have competed for jobs and land.  Most descendants of Acton’s early black residents eventually left Acton to find opportunities elsewhere.  Occasionally, they were mentioned in later records.  Sickness, disability, loss of a breadwinner, or extreme old age could change economic status.  Acton’s town report of 1855-1856 shows payment to the city of Boston for the support of Elizabeth Oliver (probably the recent widow of Abijah Oliver), and to the town of Concord for the burial of two of Peter Robbin’s family, as well as to Daniel Wetherbee of Acton for goods provided to that family.  (Peter Robbins had recently died.  He was divorced from John Oliver’s daughter Fatima by that time; apparently, his common law wife Almira/Elmira came from Acton, though her parentage is currently unclear.  She is referred to in Acton’s records as Elmira Oliver.)  The 1857-58 report shows money paid to Lowell for the support of Sarah Jane (Tucker) Oliver.  (She apparently married William P. Oliver and then Asa Oliver; their connections to other Acton Olivers are still being worked out).  Others receiving help that year who were not living at the poor fam included Sarah Spaulding (John Oliver’s widowed granddaughter) and Elizabeth Oliver.   
 
The 1860 Federal Census showed the following:

• Household of Ephraim Oliver, 49, mulatto, farmer, born Mass., owned real estate worth $3,000, personal property worth $2,200
  • Joel Oliver, 84, mulatto, blacksmith, born Mass.
  • Susan Oliver, 38, mulatto, born Mass
  • Martha Oliver, 36, mulatto, born Mass.
  • Susan M. and Charles Smith (17 and 15), no race given, born Mass.
• In the Poor House, among others:
  • Titus A. Williams, 53, black, farmer, born. Mass.
  • Betsey Oliver, 77, mulatto, born Mass., “insane (unknown)” – It is unclear what the “unknown’ referred to.  Insanity could have meant dementia or something else.

 
The 1860 census also surveyed the town’s agriculture and gave details about Ephraim Oliver’s farming operation, located at approximately 283 Great Road in East Acton.  Ephraim Oliver owned 43 improved and 10 unimproved acres worth $3,000, plus $100 in farming implements, a horse, four milking cows, and fifteen other cattle.  His farm produced 140 bushels of “Indian corn,” 15 bushels of oats, 40 bushels of “Irish potatoes,” 200 pounds of butter, 10 tons of hay and 5 bushels of grain seed.
 
Though she was not listed in the poor house in the census, Sarah (Olivers) Spaulding was listed in Acton’s 1860 death records as a pauper.  She died, widowed, at age 36 on Oct. 14, 1860 and was listed as a quadroon, daughter of Abijah and Rachel (Barber) Oliver.  (Abijah was married to Elizabeth Barber, so that is probably simply an error.) 
 
The final census in this survey is the Massachusetts census of 1865.  By that time, Civil War and emancipation had set enormous changes in motion.  The census reported the following people of color in Acton:

• In the Daniel Wetherbee household, there were three paupers, among them:
  • Titus Williams, 56, black, single, born Massachusetts
• In the household of Simon Blanchard, 57, farmer
  • Daniel Cory, 25, black, born North Carolina, single, laborer, could not read or write, on the “ratable polls” list and a legal voter
• In the household of Nathaniel Hapgood, 81, farmer
  • James Low (possibly Law), 18, black, b. Mass., single, laborer

 
All other residents were classified as white, including the five-person household of Ephraim Oliver.
 
We still have many questions that need answers.  In the relatively helpful records of the 1860s, we found other mentions of Olivers with connections to Acton that we have not yet been able to untangle:

• In March 1861, Lucy (Fitch) Oliver, “widow of Abijah Oliver”, pauper, died in Acton at age 83 or 85.  We have not been able to figure out who this Lucy is, as we have not yet found her marriage to Abijah mentioned anywhere else.
• 1863 town records show that the town of Acton reimbursed Concord for the burial expenses of ”Elmira Oliver.”  We are not sure why that cost was Acton’s responsibility.
• Asa Oliver was born about 1809, in Acton or Sudbury to John Oliver (possibly born Acton) and Abigail Knowlton (possibly born Westford).  A likely father John Oliver was listed in the Sudbury census in 1800 and 1810.  Asa (of Carlisle) married Sarah Jane (Tucker) Oliver in Acton in 1859, was in Littleton for the 1860 census, and died in Acton in 1868.  He was not listed as an heir of John Oliver (the Acton Revolutionary War pensioner) in John’s 1840 probate file, so to what family did he belong and how were they related to Acton’s other Olivers?  Acton received reimbursement from Lincoln for poor relief given to Asa at the end of his life.  Why?
• Caroline (Oliver) Osburne was born c.  1812 in Sudbury to John Oliver (b. Acton) and Silence __ (b. Sudbury, probably Knowlton).  Caroline married Henry Israel Osburne; both were listed as mulatto in the 1850 census.  Widowed, she died in Concord in 1863.  Who was her father John Oliver? Was Caroline a sister to Asa?

 
Researching the lives of Acton’s black residents is an ongoing project.  What has become clear from trying to list all people of African descent who lived in Acton from its earliest years to the end of the Civil War is that available records, though far from complete, do allow us to find at least some of them.  The town’s vital records and censuses, the backbone of much genealogical research, are only the beginning.  Though searching the columns of early censuses for people of color was helpful, we discovered inconsistency in the reporting of race that certainly understated the number of black and mixed-race residents.  Acton’s vital records only reported some of their life events.  By tracing descendants, we were able to uncover new details such as Acton births recorded later in other towns.  Another source was town meeting and expenditure reports that proved when people were in town and where they might have gone, especially if they provided financial assistance to others or needed it themselves.
 
If you are a descendant of any of Acton’s black and mixed-race residents, have any additional information about them, can correct any information provided here, and/or know of other people who should be on our list, please contact us.  We would appreciate help in bringing their stories to life.

One of the little-realized facts about Acton’s Revolutionary War soldiers is that we do not have a complete listing of who they were.  Captain Isaac Davis’s company of Minute Men who marched to Concord on April 19, 1775 are quite well-documented, thanks to the testimony of long-lived individuals and the pride of Acton residents that their Minute Men were first at the bridge and suffered losses as a result.  A monument in the center of town reminds us of their place in history.  However, two other companies of Acton men served that day.  We can figure out some of them thanks to a wonderful donation to the Society of Captain Joseph Robbins’ papers, but we still do not know all who participated.

The Revolutionary War stretched on for eight years, and while records became somewhat better as the war went on, not all soldiers’ service was perfectly documented.  In the years since, because of local focus on those who were killed on the war’s first day, soldiers who served and died later and in places farther away have received much less attention in Acton.  One of those casualties was Thomas Darby who was killed at the Battle of White Plains in 1776. 

In honor of Memorial Day, we attempted to find out something about Thomas Darby.  His surname was not a common name in Acton in later years.  He is not mentioned on any monument, marker, or historical map.  There are no streets bearing his name in a town full of Revolution-themed roads.  Given this lack of attention, we assumed that he was a young, unmarried man who probably did not have family around or whose extended family died out early.  That assumption turned out to be incorrect.  Though we were not able to find out much about his life, we can at least try to give his story some family context.

We are, for this blog post, indebted to and somewhat at the mercy of published town histories and genealogies of Thomas’ family.  Though we have used online vital, town, military, probate, and land records to try to corroborate and supplement their stories, the records of the time are incomplete.  Some research avenues were limited after COVID-19 led to the closure of libraries and archives, but the Darby family is hard to untangle even in the records that do exist.  The Darbys were numerous, were sometimes called “Derby,” “Daby” or another name variant, and tended to repeat first names within and across generations.  (As one example, a Daby family of Harvard, MA seems to have been intermingled with Thomas’ family in some histories, though the actual connection, if there was one, is uncertain.)  As best we can tell, Thomas descended from three generations of men named John Darby.  John Darby was certainly a common name in Thomas’ family; it was given to Thomas’ eldest brother and two younger brothers, the last of whom reached adulthood.

The first of Thomas’ male ancestors noted in most genealogies was fisherman John Darby of Marblehead.  What usually was not mentioned was his notoriety.  According to Eric Jay Dolin’s Black Flags, Blue Waters: The Epic History of America's Most Notorious Pirates (among other histories), John Darby was on the crew of a boat boarded by pirates in August 1689 and, quite voluntarily, threw in his lot with the pirate Thomas Pound.  John’s new career was short-lived as the pirates’ activities over the next two months led the Massachusetts governor to send out a crew after them.  When they caught up with the pirates in Tarpaulin Cove (located on an island near Martha’s Vineyard), John Darby was killed in the ensuing battle.  His wife back in Marblehead was left with five young children.[i] 

The second John Darby (1681-1753), Thomas’ grandfather, married Deborah Conant, presumably before Dec. 27, 1704, and had many children in Essex County, MA.  They moved to Concord around 1721.  Deborah’s brother Lot Conant also settled in Concord; a deed in 1745 mentioned that a piece of land owned by John Darby was bounded in part by Lot Conant’s land.  In that 1745 deed, John Darby sold part of his farm and other lands to his eldest son John (Thomas’ father), carefully giving him the right to cross the barnyard to get to his own barn doors, to cart his hay, and to use the well.  Son John was also given one fifth of the apples in the orchard.  The elder John’s will, dated 1747, left to his wife “Deborah Darbie” any lands and buildings that he had not yet disposed of in the “southerly part of Concord” and his interest in land in Acton.  The will conveniently named his children: John (Thomas’ father), Andrew, Ebenezer, Benjamin, Joseph and Robert Darbie, Deborah Wheeler and Mary Heywood.

Thomas’ father John Darby (1704-1762?) married Rebecca Tarbox in Wenham on March 16, 1728.  John and Rebecca had two children, John (1729-1732) and Thomas (born 1731).  Thomas’ mother died by 1735.  His father was remarried to Susanna (possibly Jones), and they had eight more children: John, Rebecca, Lucy, John, Anne, Elizabeth, Nathaniel and Elnathan.  As far as we can tell from land records, Thomas grew up in “the westerly part of Concord” near his grandparents and a large number of siblings, uncles, aunts, and cousins.  (The 1745 deed from his grandfather to his father confirms that Thomas’ family was living on his grandfather’s farm at the time.)  At least some of the family ended up in Acton after it was set off as a separate town in 1735.  Thomas’ uncle Andrew Darby was considered one of the founding settlers of Acton (see Phalen, page 28) and was chosen for various responsible roles in its early years, including selectman and assessor.  Four of Andrew’s children’s births were reported in Acton vital records.  Andrew moved to Worcester County around 1848 and was again a founding father of Narraganset No. 2 (later Westminster), leaving a large number of descendants in that area.  Thomas’ uncle Benjamin bought Acton land abutting Iron Work Farm in South Acton in 1844.  Joseph Darby bought land and a cooper shop in Acton in 1776.  One thing we can say with certainty is that Thomas was not a lone Darby who happened to sign up with Acton’s minute men.  Darbys and their relatives had been in Concord and Acton for decades.

Unfortunately, however, records actually detailing Thomas’ life are very few.  According to Concord vital records, Thomas Darby was born January 12, 1731 to John and Rebekah Darby.  His baptism was recorded in the records of Ipswich’s “Hamlet Parish Church” on Jan. 17, 1731.  As noted, Thomas grew up in Concord and lived on his grandfather’s farm.  According to many sources, Thomas married Lucy Brewer.  Presumably they married around 1761, but we have not found a marriage record.  We found no land records bearing Thomas’ name, but he was living in Acton by 1757 when, during the French and Indian War, he was listed as a private in Captain Samuel Davis’ “Foot Company,” Acton’s Alarm Company #2.  His children with wife Lucy were recorded in Acton’s town records (Vital Records, Volume 1, page 63, all together):

• Lucy, born Dec. 3, 1762
  
• Rebeckah, born Oct. 30, 1764
  
• Phebe (looks like “Derby”), born June 11, 1767
  
• Molly, born June 27, 1773
  

Thomas was mentioned in Acton’s town records on March 26, 1769 when he was paid two pounds for keeping a school.  Though hard to read, an order dated April 19, 1770 indicates that Thomas “Derby” was paid one pound, ten shillings for keeping a school the next year as well.  That is the only mention of Thomas’ work that we have found.  He could have been living and working on a relative’s land but we have found nothing to prove that.

The next records we have of Thomas come from Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War.  Thomas Darby was listed as part of John Hayward’s company that answered the “Lexington Alarm.”  John Hayward was Captain Isaac Davis’ second-in-command and became the leader of Acton’s minute men when Davis was killed.  Thomas Darby presumably was drilling with Captain Davis as tensions with the British rose in late 1774 and early 1775.  He was one of those who marched to Concord on the first day of the war, was there in the first company facing the British, and must have witnessed the death of Isaac Davis and Abner Hosmer. 

Apparently, Thomas had the full support of his wife in turning to soldiering.  According to a colorful story in the history of Hudson, New Hampshire, Lucy (Brewer) Darby “sheared her sheep, spun the wool, wove the cloth, colored it with butternut bark, made the uniform and carried it to her husband, then in temporary camp, and told him to go fight for his country.”  (page 575) 

Thomas’ war service continued.  Records for early war service are spotty, but a pay abstract for a travel allowance dated Winter Hill, Jan. 15, 1776 confirms that he was part of Washington’s army participating in the siege of Boston that winter.  He was serving as Corporal in Capt. David Wheeler’s company, Col. Nixon’s regiment.  Joseph Darby of Acton was also in the company, probably the son of Thomas’ uncle Joseph who still lived in Concord.  Thomas and Joseph (“Derby”) were both in Capt. Simon Hunt’s company that was called out to help fortify Dorchester Heights in March 1776.  Thomas seems to have been reported as a private for that service.
In Sept. 1776, a company was formed of men from Concord, Acton, Lexington, and Lincoln to serve in the Massachusetts Third Regiment under Eleazer Brooks.  Simon Hunt of Acton was captain.  A list of Simon Hunt’s company (that did not include a year) showed Thomas Darby as a corporal.  Fifteen Acton men were in the company, including Thomas Darby of Acton and Nathan Darby of Acton/Concord, both of whom reported at White Plains.  Nathan may have been another son of Thomas’ uncle Joseph, but it also could have been Thomas’ brother Nathaniel whose later service (clearly as “Nathaniel Darby” from Acton) was credited to “Nathan” in the Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors compendium.  Either way, Thomas had family in the company.[ii] 

Though we know that Thomas served and died at White Plains, even the role of his company there is hard to pin down, as later reports on the battle were somewhat conflicting.  Fletcher and Shattuck’s histories (of Acton and Concord, respectively) both made sure to assure us that Colonel Eleazer Brooks’ regiment behaved bravely.  Whatever happened in the chaos of the battle, the result was tragedy for Thomas’ family; Lucy was left a widow with four daughters to support.  Thomas does not show up in probate or land records; presumably he left little money behind.  There is no indication in town records that Acton helped Thomas’ family financially.  We can only assume that they took refuge with relatives elsewhere, probably in Ashby, MA.   A Massachusetts Society of the Sons of the American Revolution publication stated that she was a pensioner. (page 237) Though it would seem that widow Lucy Darby should have received a pension under a 1780 Act of Congress, we have found no evidence of that seemingly simple fact in online records.  (Perhaps the 1800 fire that consumed the earliest pension  records destroyed her application, but we found no records of payment, either.)

We finally found additional records of the Thomas’ family when his daughters started to marry.  On May 28, 1788, daughter Rebeckah married Revolutionary War veteran John Pratt in Harvard, MA.  Both Rebecca and John were recorded as residents of Harvard at the time, but John had apparently moved to Fitchburg, MA where the couple settled and raised their nine children, one of whom was named Thomas Darby Pratt.

On November 27, 1788, Thomas’ eldest daughter Lucy married John Gilson who enlisted from Pepperell, MA at the age of fourteen and was in the Battle of White Plains.  A Samuel Gilson of Pepperell was in the same company and was reported killed at White Plains; this may have been his father.  (Sources disagree.)  The marriage between Lucy and John Gilson was recorded in Townsend and Ashby, MA, both giving Lucy’s residence as Ashby.  A profile of the Gilson family in Hayward’s history of Hancock, NH tells us that John Gilson was a blacksmith.  He and Lucy settled originally in what is now Hudson, NH and then moved to Hancock, NH.  (They may have lived for a time in Bennington as well.)  They had eight children, one of whom was named Thomas Derby Gilson.  (We checked other sources to confirm his middle name.  Aside from the mention in the Hancock history, we only found him listed as Thomas D. Gilson in other records.)   Both Thomas Darby’s daughter Lucy Gilson and Thomas’ widow Lucy Darby died on August 10, 1834 and were buried together in the Hancock cemetery.  Thomas’ widow had lived with John and Lucy Gilson and their family for nearly fifty years.  Widow Lucy Darby had managed to accumulate some money and left a will, written in 1832, that named her daughters and six of her Gilson grandchildren.

Thomas’ daughter Phebe married Jonathan Rolfe on August 30, 1792.  Both were of Ashby, MA, but their marriage, like Lucy’s, was recorded both in Townsend and Ashby.  Apparently, Jonathan was a carpenter.  Two histories gave Jonathan the title of “Captain,” but we were unable to find out why.  Jonathan and Phebe stayed in Ashby until after 1810, and their nine children seem to have been born there.  Jonathan and Phebe later moved to Dalton, NH.  Jonathan died in 1825 and Phebe in 1840, and they were buried in Dalton.

Youngest daughter Mary (also known as Molly or Polly) married Deacon Moses Greeley (1764-1848) who was born in Haverhill, MA.  His father also served in the Revolutionary War.  Moses first married a cousin Hannah with whom he had two daughters.  After she died in in 1793, Moses and Mary married and lived in Nottingham West (later Hudson), New Hampshire.  Moses was a blacksmith and apparently a successful farmer.  The couple had nine (or possibly ten) children, one of whom, Moses, Jr., legally changed his name in 1829 to Moses Thomas Derby Greeley.  Their eldest, Reuben, like his father, served as a selectman, becoming chairman of the Board, town clerk, and representative in the Legislature.  One of Mary’s grandchildren was the locally well-known Moses Greeley Parker.  Mary Darby’s husband Moses Greeley died in 1848, and Mary died in 1856.  They were buried in Hudson, NH.  A history of Hudson, NH has personal sketches of Moses (including Mary) and Reuben and includes pictures of all three of them. 

Even though Thomas Darby was one of Acton’s celebrated Minute Men, his service has been given surprisingly little attention.  Perhaps because he survived April 19, 1775, Acton’s historical attention focused instead on those who were killed that day.  Contrary to our expectations, he came from a large family and left many descendants.  None of Thomas’ daughters settled in Acton; stories about his life would have been passed down elsewhere.  If anyone has more to tell us about Thomas Darby, his family, and or any other Acton Darby connections, we would like to document their history.  We would also be grateful for any corrections or additions to this story.  Please contact us.

 Endnotes:

[i] We would like to find more records to make sure of the connection between John the pirate and Thomas’ great-grandfather.  The name Darby was much less numerous than in later generations, so duplicate John Darbys are much less likely, but we did want to confirm the identity.  The pirate John was known to the remaining members of his fishing vessel, so his identity was no mystery at the time, and there were witnesses to his activities as part of the pirate crew.  For us, genealogies tell us that Thomas’ great-grandfather was a fisherman, and that he came from Marblehead.  Many sources say that the pirate was from Marblehead working on a boat out of Salem and that the pirate’s widow was left with four or five children.  The timing of pirate John’s death in October 1889 is consistent with (1) Thomas’ ancestor’s probate inventory dated Janr 17, 1690 (given the writing, it might be June 17), and (2) his widow Alice Darby, mother of five, marrying John Woodbery on July 2, 1690.

[ii] To complicate matters further, Thomas also had another first cousin named Nathan who was in Westminster by that point as well as a brother named Elnathan.  Various cousins of Thomas served at different times during the Revolution; with name duplication, telling them apart in records becomes complicated and depends heavily on location at enlistment.  Checking online scans (via Ancestry.com) of the 1778 roll of the 15th Regiment, listed by town, we found Nathaniel listed as a soldier from Acton in Hunt’s company; at that point, at least, the soldier in Hunt’s company appears to be Thomas’ brother.  Elnathan seems to have enlisted for service from the town of Harvard in 1777.

Select References Used (in addition to digitized vital and other records):

• Davis, Betsey Warren.  The Warren, Jackson and Allied Families.  Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott for Private Circulation, 1903.  (pages 141-145)
• Derby, Samuel Carroll.  John Darby of Marblehead, Mass. and His Descendants.  Self-published manuscript, also published in The "Old Northwest" Genealogy Quarterly. Columbus, Ohio: The "Old Northwest Genealogical Society, 1910.  Volume XIII, No. 1 (January), pages 36-42.
• Dolin, Eric Jay.  Black Flags, Blue Waters: The Epic History of America's Most Notorious Pirates. New York: Liveright Publishing Corp., 2018.
• Edmonds, John Henry.  "Captain Thomas Pound, Pilot, Pirate, Cartographer, and Captain in the Royal Navy. " in Transactions of the Colonial Society of Massachusetts, Volume 20.  Boston: Colonial Society of Massachusetts, 1920.  (See January, 1918)
• Fletcher, James. Acton in History. Philadelphia: J. W. Lewis & Co., 1890.  (See pages 262-263).
• Hayward, William Wills.  The History of Hancock, New Hampshire 1764-1889.  Lowell, Mass: Vox Populi Press: 1889.  (See especially pages 601-604)
• Heywood, William Sweetzer.  History of Westminster Massachusetts (First Named Narragansett No. 2)  Lowell, Mass.: Vox Pouli Press: 1893.  (See especially pages 605-611, but Darbys are mentioned in numerous places.)
• Husbands, Charles R.  History of the Acton Minutemen and Militia Companies.  Salem, MA: Higginson Book Company, 2003.  (See especially pages 13-14, 19, 111, 131, 139, 143.)
  
• Locke, John Goodwin.  Book of the Lockes: a genealogical and historical record of the descendants of William Locke, of Woburn.  Cambridge: J. Monroe, 1853. (See pages 36, 66, 122-123)
• Massachusetts Society, Sons of the American Revolution. Historical Memoranda with Lists of Members and their Revolutionary Ancestors.  Boston: Massachusetts Society Sons of the American Revolution, 1897.  (page 237)
• National Society of the Daughters of Founders and Patriots of America.  Lineage Book.  Washington, D. C.: H. L. & J. B. McQueen, Inc., 1924. Volume 12. (See page 61, Mabel H. Kenea #1193)
• Phalen, Harold R. History of the Town of Acton. Cambridge, MA: Middlesex Printing Inc., 1954.  (See especially pages 28, 76, 371, 384, and 387 which mentions White Plains but not Thomas Darby)
• Secretary of the Commonwealth.  Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War. Boston: Wright & Potter Printing Co., 1898.  Volume 4. (Darby, pages 423-429. Derby, pages 692-694.)  For Gilson, see Volume 6, pages 458-459.  For Pratt, see Volume 12, pages 691-695 (John).
• Shattuck, Lemuel. A History of the Town of Concord.  Concord: John Stacy, 1835.  See especially page 354.
• Webster, Kimball.  History of Hudson, N. H.  Manchester, N. H.: Granite State Publishing, 1913.  (See especially pages 575-577 and illustrations near pages 169, 172 and 433)

Ann F. Heywood, subject of our last blog post on Acton’s first female voters, was married to Charles L. Heywood, owner of a South Acton mill.  We had very little information about them to start, but our research revealed that they were celebrities by the standards of South Acton in the 1870s.  Charles, as it turns out, was unusual by any standard.  Ann evidently was herself worthy of note, but, as is frustratingly typical, she was much less documented in written records. 

The Early Years

We do not know much about Charles and Ann's early lives.  Records of that time are sparse, and neither Charles nor Ann grew up in Acton.  We do know that Charles Lincoln Heywood was born to Lincoln Heywood and Rebecca Priest in Lunenburg, MA on April 17, 1828.  The eighth child in the family, he grew up in Lunenburg and was educated in its local schools.  His father was Deacon of the Unitarian Church.  About the time that the Fitchburg Railroad came through Lunenburg (approximately 1845), Charles went to work for the line as a crossing tender. Charles was obviously a young man of ability; he moved up steadily in the railroad's ranks.  By 1850, 22-year-old Charles was living in Fitchburg with the Israel Goodrich family and working as a Wood Agent for the railroad.  In the 1855 Massachusetts census, he still had that title and was living in a "hotel" in Fitchburg.  Within the next year or two, Charles was promoted to Roadmaster, a managerial position responsible for track conditions and safe operations.  He continued to serve as Wood Agent as well, at least at first.  Charles soon moved to Concord, MA, where he joined the Corinthian Lodge of Masons.  He was a resident of Concord when he married Ann Tyler. [1]

Ann Frances Tyler was born June 18, 1825 in Attleboro, MA, the fourth child of Samuel Tyler and Betsey Samson.  Ann was only three when her mother died.  According to a Tyler genealogy, her father was "an enterprising, influential man in Attleboro, and a pious church-member.  His will mentions him as 'a depraved worm of the dust.'"  It appears that Ann and Charles both grew up in homes in which religion was important, but beyond that, we do not know any more about their upbringing or how they managed to meet.  They were married on November 25, 1857 either in Attleboro or in Providence, RI where Ann was living at the time. [2]

A Busy Life

The couple moved at some point to Belmont, MA where Charles was living when he registered for the draft in 1863 and where he became a charter member of the local Masonic lodge.  In September 1864, after many years of service, Charles was promoted to the position of Superintendent of the Fitchburg Railroad.  He would serve in that role for about fourteen years. [3]

Charles seems to have possessed an unusually active mind and the energy to turn his thoughts into reality.  Apparently, it was his idea to create the amusement park at Walden Pond in Concord that opened in 1866.  Though Charles grew up in Lunenburg, his family roots went way back in Concord.  His relatives seem to have owned a significant portion of the shoreline of Walden Pond, and the Fitchburg Railroad conveniently went right by.  The railroad bought up land bordering the pond and cleared some of the woods to create an entertainment area with a large hall for use as a dancing pavilion or a gathering place for large meetings.  Tables and seats were provided for picnicking, and for the more actively inclined, there were trails, swings, “teeters,” bathhouses for swimmers, and rowboats.  People were delivered by train right to the park that was usually called some variant of “Lake Walden” or “Walden Pond Grove.” [4]

Though to many today, Walden Pond should be kept as pristine as Thoreau saw it, at the time, many would have considered the park a societal benefit that allowed city dwellers a respite in fresh air and a beautiful spot.  It was enormously successful.  A Waltham Sentinel reporter, having recently enjoyed “a fine boat ride with several of the Fitchburg railroad officials, accompanied by their ladies; among the party Mr. Heywood, the Superintendent,” wrote that the park was “rapidly becoming quite popular.”[5]  J. C. Moulton, “a well known Artist from Fitchburg” was there that day with his “machine” for making stereopticon views for sale, which would have been good to promote the park.  The first season of the venture was summed up in the Nov. 30, 1866 Waltham Sentinel; the Fitchburg Railroad had brought out thirty different groups to the grounds, about 10,000 persons, without mishap. [6]

The venture grew from there.  By June 1869, large boats with side wheels and docks to accommodate them were added.  During its first five years, newspapers reported that Walden hosted gatherings of veterans, temperance advocates, Masons, Good Templars, Sunday Schools, Spiritualists, and students and alumni of the New England Conservatory.  In July 1869, the "Grand Temperance Celebration" featured speakers, music, dancing, boating, swinging, ball playing and a Velocipede rink.  The special excursion admission and train fare from Acton was 50 cents.  The third annual Musicians’ Picnic in 1870 drew more than 3,000 people to hear at least seven bands including Acton’s 19-piece band led by G. Wild.   On July 4, 1870, the estimated crowds were 8,000-10000; the railroad used every serviceable car to accommodate them.  In the early years of the 1870s, trains started bringing “the children of the poor” out from Boston to enjoy a day at the amusement park. [7]

Walden was only one of Charles L. Heywood’s brainstorms.  As Superintendent of the Fitchburg Railroad, he conceived numerous special excursions to provide people with recreation, edification, or simply a change.  In addition to promoting events at Walden and closer to the city, the railroad carried people to West Townsend and environs to gather greenery, trailing arbutus, checkerberries and mosses with which to celebrate May Day.  Excursions were arranged for people to see the engineering wonder of the Hoosac Tunnel.  Superintendent Heywood invited the famous Rev. Henry Ward Beecher to preach at Lake Pleasant, a Spiritualist campground in Sept. 1875.  Montague depot was nearby. [8]

Charles’ mind was also busy thinking of ways to make the railroads safer.  In 1866-67, he was granted patents for a railroad snow plow and a “bridge guard” to keep brakemen from being knocked off the top of railroad cars as they worked.  Charles’ plow, apparently “ingenious,” efficiently and thoroughly cleared the tracks.  Adjustable “wings” could clear five feet on either side of the tracks and would retract if they hit an obstacle.  His plow was used, at the least, by railroads in Massachusetts, Vermont, New York, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, and Wisconsin.  Charles’ “bridge guard” was “a light movable crane” that would give brakemen working on top of railroad cars warning before they were hit by the bridge.[9]  It apparently was widely adopted, as it “proved a great protection against accidents.”[10]  Charles may have traveled to promote his inventions.  In addition to exhibiting at the 1865 Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic Association in Boston, he was also one of the exhibitors at the 1876 Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia.[11]  Charles became known as a strong advocate for railway safety: “Even the ordinary signs at crossings he did not consider sufficient, and the reading on many of them he  had so amended as to direct travelers to ‘look both ways’ before attempting to cross the tracks.  There was no device brought to his attention that promised to reduce the chances of accidents which he did not forthwith adopt.” [12]

Charles and Ann seem to have moved around.  They may have stayed in residential hotels at times and may have had multiple properties at others, but they were always near the railroad.  In May 1866, Charles bought a house on Main Street, near the corner of Auburn Street, in Charlestown, MA.  He and Ann joined Harvard Church there in early 1868, and in May 1869, an ad appeared in the Boston Traveler “For Sale or To Be Let on a Long Lease – A good House, Stable, and 17,000 feet of land, well stocked with fruit and shade trees, near Waverly Station, Belmont, Mass.  Inquire of C. L. Heywood, at Fitchburg Railroad, Superintendent’s Office.”[13]  Charles transferred his Masonic membership to Charlestown in November, 1871.  For some reason, we were not able to find Charles and Ann listed in the 1870 census; perhaps they were traveling at that time or staying at a summer location, possibly in South Acton. 

As far as we can tell, Ann and Charles had no children of their own.  Around 1870, Ann’s niece, Eunice Tyler (Read) Crawford, daughter of Ann’s sister Eunice and wife of George Crawford, passed away.  She left a child, Herbert Lincoln Crawford, who had been born in Pawtucket, RI in September 1868.  Charles and Ann took him in.  Whether or not the arrangement was meant to be temporary, it became permanent, and in 1878, while living in Belmont, the couple adopted the boy.  His name was changed to Lincoln Crawford Heywood. 

Abundant Charity

While still working for the railroad, Charles gave of his prodigious energy and his money to charities.  He took special interest in the welfare of the inmates of the Charlestown state prison and taught Sunday school there.  The Boston Daily Advertiser noted in January 1870 that he had given his students a book of their choice as a Christmas gift.  He was also involved in the Massachusetts Society for Aiding Discharged Convicts.  His belief in rehabilitation was obviously deeply held, because his kindness to prison inmates extended to the man who had killed Charles’ brother George.  According to Cunningham’s History of Lunenburg, Charles met the prisoner responsible for his brother’s death, forgave him, and actually helped to get him pardoned.  We were able to confirm the pardon but not Charles’ role in it.  Cunningham was well acquainted with Charles’ father and apparently knew Charles, so presumably he heard the story from someone who knew what happened. [14]

Prisoners were not the only beneficiaries of Charles’ generosity.  Charles served on the Executive Committee and as director of the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals for years and took an active part in the Massachusetts Total Abstinence Society from its beginning.   He was involved in creating excursions for poor city children, including to Walden.  In 1874, to kickstart a fundraising campaign for the debt-ridden Appleton Temporary Home for Inebriates, he offered to pay down one-tenth of its debt and to donate $10 yearly for the rest of his life.  In 1875, he supplied every school district in his native town of Lunenburg with a cabinet organ and a full set of songbooks and donated money to the Lunenburg farmers’ club to encourage them to plant forest trees.  Later, he donated globes and microscopes to the Lunenburg schools.  Charles was also one of the founders of the Boston Union Industrial Association whose purpose was to find employment for and give assistance to the poor. [15]

Ann (Tyler) Heywood showed up in newspapers in the 1870s, sometimes attending an event with her husband, but sometimes on her own.  Ann was a donor to the North End Mission nursery.  She served food (as did men) during at least one of the Poor Children’s Excursions to Walden, and in 1875 she and Charles were both appointed to the Committee in charge of Poor Children’s Excursions from the city.  Ann served on the committee on her own for several years.  In 1876, Mrs. & Mrs. C. L. Heywood were given a seven-piece silver tea service “as a token of appreciation of their generous gift of the reading room to the village of Waverley.” [16]

Acton Connection

In the 1870s, the Heywoods came to South Acton.  As far as we can tell, their involvement started with a business opportunity.  In 1869, William Schouler, owner of a South Acton mill, decided to sell out.  An ad said  “WATER POWER FOR SALE – Consisting of two privileges, within 30 rods of each other, one of 16 and the other of 9 feet tall, on an excellent stream, with a reserve of two ponds of 400 acres, altogether independent of the stream, with good factory buildings and dwelling houses, several acres of land with orchard and large grapery, situated on the Fitchburg Railroad, near the depot at South Acton, about 1 hour’s ride from Boston.” [17]  Charles Heywood purchased the property on April 27, 1870 with a mortgage.  In November, the old Schouler Mill burned, with damage estimated at $3,000.  Fortunately, Charles had it insured. [18]

Charles started a soapstone mill at the South Acton site.  We were unable to find any details about the soapstone mill, unfortunately.  There were soapstone quarries elsewhere in Massachusetts and in Vermont; Charles presumably was able to ship raw materials to Acton easily by rail.  We were able to discover some details about Charles’ property from Acton’s 1872 tax valuation:
Heywood, C. L., Belmont --

• House $1,000
• Small house, $450
• Carriage house, $100
• Mill & wheel, $1,300
• Water power $1,300
• House on Railroad, $200
• Land connected with above, 5 acres, $200

Charles owned water rights and the mill at approximately today’s 115-141 River Street and a house at approximately 140 River Street (no longer standing).  The house, probably vacant for much of the year, received the wrong kind of attention in October 1875: “Some malicious person or persons have been throwing rocks through the windows of the house and barn near the soapstone mill, belonging to Supt. Heywood.  A reward of $25 is offered for the arrest and conviction of the depredators.” [19] 

After Charles had paid off his mortgage, he started a new venture that was advertised in the Acton Patriot on September 26, 1878: [20]

A NEW
Grain & Grist Mill
Has been fitted up with Corn Cracker and two sets of Stones at the Soap Stone Mill, on the Wm Schouler place about
A half mile east of the South Acton Station,
where Corn, Meal, Oats and Shorts will be offered at wholesale and retail at the lowest market price.

Corn, Oats and Rye
will be purchased in small lots of the farmer if offered.
  Mr. JOHN D. MOULTON, the well known miller of South Acton, has been employed to take charge.
  Orders left in order box at T. J. & W.’s Grocery Store will receive prompt attention.
C. L. HEYWOOD.
South Acton, Sept. 25, 1878

1878 seems to have been a time of change for the Heywoods, and it is likely not a coincidence that they started showing up more and more in Acton during that time.  Charles “contributed liberally” to the building of the South Acton Universalist Church that was dedicated on Feb. 21, 1878, and he taught in its Sunday School.  In June, he invited the children of the Sunday School there to make small floral bouquets with an accompanying letter that he would take to prisoners in Concord. [21]  On August 27 of that year, there was a farewell celebration on the South Acton “grounds of Superintendent C. L. Heywood” for the fifty city children that he had hosted “at his summer home ever since July 1.  The people of the vicinity turned out generally to the evening entertainment, which consisted of speaking, illuminations, bonfire, music by the Acton band, fireworks, and a general jollification.” [22]  Ann’s role as hostess of fifty children was not mentioned.

In 1878, Charles Heywood resigned from the Fitchburg Railroad after a career that lasted about 35 years, including fourteen as Superintendent.  He acted in an advisory capacity for the railroad for three more months, but he had many things to do.  He was working on new inventions.  At the end of the year, he filed five more applications that were primarily aimed at making railroads safer for employees and passengers, including improvements in signal lights, steps for rail cars, and cabooses for brakemen. [23]

Charles’ gristmill continued.  He added a horse shed at the grist mill for his customers’ convenience and ran ads in the Acton Patriot. [24]  The Patriot reported on June 26, 1879 that: “Mr. C. L. Heywood and wife are to start Friday evening on an European journey, returning home in September.” [25]  That fall, Ann F. Heywood was one of the first six women in Acton to register to vote in local school committee elections.  That same fall, Charles was chosen by Acton as one of its delegates to the Republican Convention.  During that period, the couple evidently considered South Acton “home”. [26]

The 1880 Boston Directory, probably from information given in 1879, shows Charles L. Heywood as president of the Mercantile and Collection Agency of 8 Exchange Place, with a house at South Acton. [27]  We have no other information about Charles’ involvement in what seems to have been a precursor to credit rating agencies.  Because our collection of newspapers before 1888 is sporadic, we were not able to find any other mention of the Heywoods in Acton.  However, the Heywoods showed up elsewhere. 

After Acton

The 1880 census listed Charles and Ann living on Revere Street in Revere with Lincoln (age 11) and a few boarders.  Ann continued to help with Poor Children’s Excursions and was elected to the executive committee in 1880. [28]  Charles moved on to several new ventures that included contracting to fill what today we could call “wetlands,” but at the time were considered public health “nuisances.”  Charles served as a director and then president of the Maverick Land Company that was filling the flats in East Boston that were expected in early 1881 to “be much required for railroad purposes during the coming year, and can be sold to advantage.” [29]  Charles was involved with filling land at Fresh Pond in Cambridge and also apparently got involved in the project to fill Prison Point in Charlestown for the Eastern Railroad that seems to have been a quagmire for all parties.  That scheme supposedly brought financial reverses to Charles, although we were not able to confirm that story.  In addition to filling projects, he was involved with the Hoosac Tunnel Dock and Elevator Company and the Union Electric Signal Company. [30]

Charles received a patent for an improved Track Clearing Car on April 11, 1882.  Presumably, he continued to promote his inventions and in early 1883 took an extended trip to the West and Southwest and went to the National Exposition of Railway Appliances in Chicago where he was exhibiting his inventions. [31]

Charles continued to support causes that he believed in.  He served for eight years as treasurer of the Massachusetts Total Abstinence Society and lent his public support to the cause when needed.  He continued working to help poor children and discharged convicts.  Somehow, Charles found the time in November 1882 to present a travelogue to the Farmers’ Club in his native town. [32]

In 1883, Charles went to work managing the construction of quarantine grounds in Waltham along the Fitchburg railroad.  The quarantine grounds were to keep cattle, imported for breeding purposes, safely away from native stock.   According to the Globe, the project was part of an effort by the federal government to systematically create an efficient quarantine system. [33]

On June 23, 1883, Charles had been in Waltham, attending to his duties at the quarantine station.  At about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, apparently trying to get to the station that would take him home to Waverly (Belmont), he was walking on one of the tracks.  Reports vary; he may have been distracted by trying to warn another man that a passenger train was coming, or he may have been unaware that a freight train was running in a different direction from usual.  Whatever the details, Charles, whose career and inventions had been aimed at improving railroad safety, was struck by a freight train. He was rushed to the main Waltham depot, attended by local doctors, and then taken by special train to Massachusetts General Hospital.  Unfortunately, he died almost immediately after arriving at the hospital. [34]

Charles’ death was a shock to many and was widely reported in the news.  He was something of a celebrity and was widely admired for his success and generosity.  Most reports, typically, either did not mention Ann at all or simply stated that he had left “a widow.”  However, a couple of reports mentioned Ann as a person: “His wife was an estimable lady, and by her kindly encouragement has done much to make him what he was,” [35] and, probably from the same source,  “Accompanying all the talk about the sad affair and the inquiries for particulars relating thereto were a general expression of regret and sympathy for his widow, who is a lady held in the highest estimation, and to whose efforts, it is said, has been due the greater part of her husband’s success.” [36]

Ann Heywood’s life obviously would have been severely upended by her husband’s death.  She had a teenaged son to care for and, most likely, a complicated set of financial entanglements left by her husband’s unexpected demise.  Charles left an unusually long will dated June 20, 1878.  In addition to providing for Ann, he created a trust for the benefit of his newly adopted son Lincoln and any wife, widow, or children Lincoln might have in the future.  Given Charles’ ability to plan ahead, it is not surprising that there were many contingencies and potential recipients of money, including relatives and charities.  Charles, who only had the benefit of education in the local schoolhouse, added, “I wish my said son to have the opportunity of obtaining, if he desires it, a liberal education, and, while I do not restrict his selection of a college or university, yet I would request that he should, before deciding, carefully consider the advantages afforded by the Massachusetts Agricultural College at Amherst.”  He also left an additional special $2,000 trust, the income of which would be paid to Lincoln until the age of 25, at which time he would get the principal.  The will directed that the income and the principal of that trust should be given by Lincoln “to Charitable objects, suggesting to him as worthy of special attention that class of the poor who bear in silence the burden of poverty, sometimes styled the silent poor.”  Charles clearly hoped to train Lincoln in charitable giving. [37]

In 1884, Ann and son Lincoln moved to Pawtucket, RI where Lincoln attended high school.  Lincoln graduated with the class of 1886 and then attended Brown University for two years as a member of the class of 1890.  In 1889, he entered the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and graduated in 1891 as a civil engineer.  His senior thesis, completed with another student, was “A Plan for Widening a Stone Highway Bridge at Pawtucket, R. I.”  After graduation, Lincoln again lived with his mother and worked for the Interstate Street Railway Company as an engineer.  He married Edith Clapp on December 15, 1892.    In July 1893, he became engineer of the town of Lincoln, RI and started working on designing and constructing a sewer system for part of the town and on creating a complete and coordinated system for the whole town.  He and Edith had a baby daughter Hortense. 

Tragically, Lincoln died on Jan. 12, 1895.  After what happened to his adoptive father, safety-minded railroad executive Charles, it was striking to read that Lincoln died of a disease that he was working to protect others from.  “Mr. Heywood was taken ill the last of December with that dread disease, typhoid fever, which he, in common with many other engineers, through the agency of pure water supplies and proper sewerage systems, had been striving to render less dangerous to the community and less likely to become epidemic in thickly settled districts.” [38]  He was 26 years old.  One can only imagine the blow to his mother Ann, as well as to his wife.  Joint owners of their home at Brook and Grove streets, Ann and Edith Heywood sold the property in early 1896. The 1896 Pawtucket Directory listed Mrs. Ann F. Heywood as having “removed to Providence.” [39]

The 1900 census showed Ann F. Haywood (a widow born in Massachusetts in June 1825) as a boarder in the household of Anna Burrill in Concord, MA.  She may have simply been staying for the summer, because the 1901 Providence, RI Directory shows Ann living at 733 Cranston Street. [40]  We are not sure where she lived for the next few years, but Ann was in Pawtucket, RI when she died on November 14, 1904 of a cerebral hemorrhage.  She was buried with Charles at Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, MA.  We found a death notice for Ann, but no full obituary. [41]  On the other hand, we found that Charles was still notable enough in 1904 that a newspaper profile of a former Lunenburg teacher mentioned that he had taught “Charles L. Heywood, afterwards superintendent of the Fitchburg railroad.” [42]  Sadly, that fame is long gone.  In South Acton, though the railroad tracks remain and water still runs through the site, passersby would probably have no idea that mills were once there and that across the street, a generous couple once hosted dozens of city children in the summertime.

References:

[1] Boston Sunday Herald, June 24, 1883, p. 2; Fitchburg Railroad. Report of Committee of Investigation.  Boston: Henry W. Dutton & Son, 1857, p. 6
[2] Brigham, Willard. The Tyler Genealogy; The Descendants of Job Tyler, of Andover, Massachusetts, 1619-1700. Privately published by Cornelius and Rollin Tyler, 1912, page 223
[3] Boston Evening Transcript, Sept. 17, 1864, p. 5
[4] For an overview of the Walden park, see Thorson, Robert M. The Guide to Walden Pond. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2018, p. 167-168 and Springfield Republican, July 14, 1866, p. 1.  For names, see among others: Boston Globe, July 3, 1874, p. 2; Lowell Daily Citizen & News, June 15, 1867, p. 2; Boston Journal, Aug. 24, 1866, p. 2.
[5] Waltham Sentinel, Sept. 14, 1866, p. 2
[6] Waltham Sentinel, Nov. 30, 1866, p. 2
[7] Among many other reports of the park: Waltham Sentinel, June 4, 1869, p. 2; Boston Traveler, July 3, 1869, p. 2; Boston Journal, Sept. 1, 1870, p.4; Lowell Daily Citizen and News, July 14, 1870, p.1; Boston Daily Advertiser, Aug. 19, 1873, p. 1
[8]  Boston Globe, May 8, 1875, p. 5; Boston Post, July 10, 1874, p. 4; National Aegis, Sept. 4, 1875, p. 3
[9] Patents #51,829 and 62,197; Railroad Gazette, Chicago, Vol. 2, No. 1, Oct. 1, 1870, p. 8 and Vol. 9, Jan. 26, 1877, p. xii; Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic Association. Exhibition Catalogue, September, 1865.  Boston: Wright & Potter, 1865, p. 12
[10] Report of the Railroad Commissioners of the State of Maine, for the Year 1871. Augusta, Maine: Sprague, Owen & Nash, 1872, p. 46
[11] Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic Association. Exhibition Catalogue, September, 1865.  Boston: Wright & Potter, 1865, p. 12;  United States Centennial Commission.  International Exhibition 1876 Official Catalogue.  John R. Nagle and Company, 1876.  In the Machinery Department, Charles’ Bridge Guard was #939c, but he seems to have had at least one other invention exhibited, #778c.
[12] Boston Herald, June 25, 1883, p. 2
[13] Boston Traveler, May 11, 1869, p. 4
[14] Waltham Sentinel, Nov. 4, 1870, p.2; Boston Daily Advertiser, Jan. 7, 1870, p. 1; Boston Globe, May 25, 1875, p. 1; Boston Herald, May 30, 1883, p. 4; Cunningham, George A.  History of the Town of Lunenburg. Vol. II, no publisher, p. 393; Waltham Sentinel, Dec. 22, 1865, p. 2
[15] Among others: Boston Journal, Nov. 14, 1871, p. 2; Boston Globe, March 26, 1873, p. 8, Boston Journal, March 25, 1879, p. 3; Boston Globe, Feb. 6, 1873, p. 8; Lowell Daily Citizen and News, Feb. 5, 1874, p. 2; Boston Journal, Sept. 12, 1883, p. 1; Boston Globe, July 3, 1874, p.5; Boston Daily Advertiser, Sept. 2, 1874, p. 4; Boston Globe, Feb. 10, 1875, p. 7; Boston Daily Advertiser, Sept. 14, 1875, p. 4; Fitchburg Sentinel,  June 28, 1883, p.2; Boston Post, March 18, 1875, p.3; 
[16] Boston Traveler, Feb. 23, 1876, p. 4; Boston Journal, March 2, 1877, p. 2; Boston Daily Advertiser, Aug. 19, 1873, p. 1; Boston Globe, May 5, 1875, p. 4; Boston Daily Advertiser, March 15, 1878, p. 4
[17] Boston Journal, Dec. 17, 1869, p. 3
[18] Middlesex County Deeds, Vol. 1119, page 230-235 shows the purchase and the mortgage in April 1870.  Vol. 1421, p. 280 records the discharge of the mortgage in January, 1877.; Lowell Daily Citizen and News, Nov. 19, 1870, p. 2
[19] Acton Patriot, Oct. 9, 1875, unpaginated
[20] Acton Patriot, Sept. 26, 1878, unpaginated
[21] Undated clipping in scrapbook at Jenks Library; Boston Sunday Herald, June 24, 1883, p. 2; Acton Patriot, June 13, 1878, p. 1
[22] Boston Daily Advertiser, August 28, 1878, p. 4
[23] Patents #216,403 - 216,307, all filed Dec. 24, 1878
[24] Acton Patriot, Dec. 5, 1878, p. 1; April 17, 1879, p.8; Feb. 19. 1880, unpaginated
[25] Acton Patriot, June 26, 1879, p. 1
[26] Acton Patriot, October 2, 1879, p. 8; Boston Journal, Sept. 15, 1879, p.2
[27]  The Boston Directory. No. LXXVI. Boston: Sampson, Davenport and Company, 1880, p. 471
[28] Boston Post, June 5, 1880, p. 3
[29] Boston Journal, Feb. 28, 1881, p. 1; The Boston Directory. No. LXXIX.  Boston: Sampson, Davenport, and Company, 1883, p. 522
[30] Boston Sunday Herald, June 24, 1883, p. 2; Boston Sunday Herold, June 24, 1883, p. 2
[31] Patent #256,140; National exposition of railway appliances, Chicago, 1883. Guide to the National Exposition of Railway Appliances, Chicago (May 24-June 23, 1883). Chicago: Rand, McNally & Co., 1883, p. 93; Boston Sunday Herold, June 24, 1883, p. 2
[32] Boston Journal, Sept. 12, 1883, p. 1 and Dec. 12, 1881, p. 2; Boston Globe, Aug. 31, 1883, p. 2; Boston Herald, May 30, 1883, p. 4; Fitchburg Sentinel, Nov. 16, 1882, p. 2
[33] Boston Globe, April 18, 1883, p. 2
[34] Boston Globe, June 24, 1883, p. 1; Boston Sunday Herold, June 24, 1883, p. 2; Fitchburg Sentinel, June 26, 1883, p. 3
[35] Boston Globe, June 24, 1883, p. 1
[36] Boston Sunday Herold, June 24, 1883, p. 2
[37] Middlesex County Probate, #15,946
[38] George A. Carpenter and Morris Knowles.  Lincoln C. Heywood A Memoir.  Journal of the Association of Engineering Societies, Volume 14, p.56-57.  Read to the Boston Society of Civil Engineers, March 20, 1895.  See also The Tech, Vol. XIV, No. 17, Feb. 17, 1895, p. 170 and 172; Evening Times, (Pawtucket, RI), Jan. 12, 1895, p. 1
[39] Evening Times, (Pawtucket, RI), Jan. 25, 1896, p. 6; The Pawtucket City and Central Falls City Directory. No. XXVIII. Providence: Sampson, Murdock & Co, 1896, p. 236
[40] The Providence Directory. No. LXI. Providence, RI: Sampson, Murdock, & Co., p. 440.
[41] Evening Times, (Pawtucket, RI), Nov. 15, 1904, p. 4
[42]  Boston Sunday Post, Dec. 4, 1904, p. 6
[43] A correspondent granted us permission to use this photograph, which we gratefully acknowledge.

Knowing that U.S. women gained the right to vote in 1920, it comes as a surprise to many of us that in 1879, Massachusetts passed a law that allowed women to register to vote for their local school committee.  It was a very limited victory, and the journey to full voting rights was long.  (See our blog post about Acton women and the 1895 referendum on municipal suffrage.)

Up until now, though we knew that there were some women who voted locally and supported women’s suffrage on a broader scale, we have not known who they were.  Recently, in the process of digitizing our wonderful but fragile collection of old newspapers at Jenks Library, we made a discovery.  On October 2, 1879, the Acton Patriot announced the names of the first ladies registered to vote in Acton, all of whom were residents of South Acton (p. 8).  In honor of Women’s History Month, we salute:

The fact that these women registered to vote made them quite unusual.  Only a small percentage of women did.  Suggested reasons for most women's non-participation have included the social expectations of the Victorian era, poll taxes, or lack of interest in strictly local affairs.  Given Acton's history of "spirited discussion" of school matters, the latter would be surprising.

We wanted to learn about Acton’s first women voters, what motivated them, and what characteristics they might have had in common.  Unfortunately, it was frustratingly difficult.  Women of that period simply were given much less attention in written records than men.  The women’s work and activities were generally unpaid and seldom noted.  Aside from vital records, the vast majority of women were not mentioned in annual town reports.  (School teachers were an exception; they cost money.)  Newspapers can be a rich source of local information, but unfortunately, our access to local newspapers before 1888 is extremely limited.  Without documents such as a woman’s letters or diary, there is very little chance of discovering her thoughts or personality.

Though we might have expected Acton’s first registered female voters to be obviously different from their peers, on the surface, they resembled “typical” women of 1879.  Each had her own story, but they were all middle-aged and long-married.  With one exception they had given birth to multiple children and had raised families.  They would have spent most of the 1850s-1870s on the practical necessities of taking care of their families’ needs.  Almost all of them had experienced the heartbreaking loss of at least one of their children, a distressingly common occurrence for parents of the time.  Some of the women were actively involved in church, community or charitable organizations, but in most cases, specifics were hard to find.  The women may have registered to vote because they wanted their voices to be heard in general or because they cared about their community and its educational system in particular.  We have no way of knowing. 

We are on the lookout for more information about these six women’s lives.  If you have letters, diaries, photographs, newspaper clippings, or family stories that can make them more real to us, please contact us.  As a start, here is what we know so far:

Some time ago, we came across a reference in an old newspaper to polo in Acton.  Envisioning polo ponies charging through a local field, we filed that information away for another day.  As it turns out, the team was actually playing a different game at a long-vanished West Acton business, a roller skating rink.

In our archives, we found a description of the rink by Percy Wood.  According to him, the West Acton rink was situated approximately at the southeast corner of today’s Spruce and Arlington Streets, a large rectangular building resting on posts several feet above the ground.  Mr. Wood did not know the exact dates of or people involved with the rink, but he heard stories about it from Carrie (Gilmore) Durkee who lived diagonally across from it, at the site of the present-day West Acton Post Office.  Because the rink was a short walk from the West Acton Depot, it was a popular spot for both out-of-town and local patrons.  Conveniently, Carrie’s mother ran a boarding house and was able to provide meals and assistance to skaters, including helping female skaters into their heavy skating costumes.

Wanting to verify and expand on Mr. Wood’s stories, we consulted standard Acton records.  Neither the rink nor the Gilmore boarding house showed up in them.  No nineteenth-century map in our collection shows a building at the rink’s location, and we did not find a mention of the rink in town reports, available directories, or tax valuations.  Our access to the Concord Enterprise starts in 1888, but an online search of that paper yielded nothing.  It happens, however, that our Society owns scattered issues of earlier newspapers, and luckily, the rink was mentioned in some of them, including an ad in the April 18, 1885 Middlesex Recorder [1, newspaper references at end]:

Clearly, the rink was operating in the mid-1880s, but we had to broaden our search to learn more.  Acton’s rink was part of a much larger roller-skating phenomenon that swept the United States.  Massachusetts native James L. Plimpton is credited with innovations that made roller skating a popular pastime.  In 1863, he patented the quad-style roller skate (with two sets of wooden wheels that could be controlled by a skater’s shifting foot angle while all four wheels were still square on the ground, enabling easier turns and “fancy” moves than previous skates had).  Plimpton then promoted the art of skating and started a franchise operation, leasing his skates to others.  He also took his promotion, very successfully, to England and other countries.  Over time, he improved on his own skate design, as did others; according to the Boston Globe, during the next two decades, over 300 roller skate improvement patents were filed, mostly in England and America. [2].  In Massachusetts, the Boston Globe announced in early 1876 that roller skating was gaining in popularity locally, emphasizing that participants included the “best elements of Boston society.” [3]  Plimpton’s original patent ran out in 1880 and other innovations followed.  Roller skating popularity exploded.

Boston and Worcester had rinks, and as the craze spread, more and more local rinks were opened.  The Fitchburg Sentinel reported that Clinton had a rink by 1880 and that Fitchburg’s rink would open in January 1882. [4]  The Globe mentioned new rinks at South Framingham, Hudson, Leominster (two at the same time), and Ayer. [5]  Unfortunately, we found nothing reported about building (or converting) a rink in West Acton or the exact date it opened for business.
 
Photographs and illustrations of roller skating during its first phases of popularity are rare; the best we could find was this 1880 drawing of skating at a rink in Washington, DC, no doubt more fashionable than Acton’s.   (Courtesy of the Library of Congress)

Keeping a rink going meant getting patrons.  Managers tried various strategies to attract crowds.  They hired musicians to play during open skating hours, recruiting orchestras, bands, piano players, and even fife and drum corps.  The big, open spaces could also host rallies and other large gatherings.  The most commonly advertised special events at rinks were exhibitions by novelty acts, usually featuring talented, daring, unique, or very young skaters.  In fact, the profit from performing apparently led some youngsters away from education, prompting New York state to pass regulations in 1885. [6]

It was not long before competition was used to draw in skaters and spectators.  Roller skating races were held, and large rinks could even hold bicycle races. [7]  Games on roller skates were promoted, from “rink ball,” a game introduced in Brooklyn, New York and played with hands [8], to “polo on roller skates” played with a hard ball and sticks similar to those used in field hockey, but thinner.  This polo played between stick-wielding skaters was new, and the game’s structure, equipment, and rules were still being worked out during the West Acton rink’s existence.  Early play seems to have favored “rushing” with the ball toward the other team’s side.  When a player rushed with the ball, the opposing team had time to line up in front of their “cage” and wait for the rusher to arrive.  Passing, an innovation mentioned in a November 1885 Globe article, might catch the defense off guard.  An attempt to make face-offs fairer had the referee throwing the ball against the side of the rink. [9]  Other attempted innovations involved painting a stripe on the ball, using alternate materials for skate rollers such as cork, and installing netting to protect spectators. [10] 

Rival leagues had varying requirements.  A Herald article described some of the rules set down by the New England Polo Association for its teams in October 1885.  The game was to be played with six players on a side, competing for three goals out of five.  There were referees who could impose fines for actions such as wearing extra padding, rough play, spitting on the floor, interfering in a dispute, tampering with skates or using profane language.  (Fines went to the rink manager.)  The referees could also expel players if necessary. [11]  Rules seem to have been needed.  The Globe reported that New Hampshire rink managers were disbanding their clubs for doing too much brawling. [12]  Spectators occasionally were “disgraceful” as well.  At one Waltham game, the crowd was calling out for bodily harm to be perpetrated not only on the opposing team but also on the referee.  In addition, local fans were apparently helping out by punching an opposing player when he got to the corners of the rink. [13]         
                                                                                        
Fortunately for our research, intense interest in roller skating and polo in the mid-1880s led Boston newspapers to report on action in outlying areas.  From them we were able to learn something of what went on at the West Acton rink.  The first mention that we found was the Boston Globe report on June 22, 1884 that Jessie Lafone (a teenager well-known for graceful and skillful skating) had performed an exhibition there the previous evening. [14]  The first game of “polo on skates” played at the West Acton Rink was between the West Actons and the South Actons on August 16, 1884.  West Acton’s “home team,” in their new uniforms, won the game with three straight goals in three minutes.  (The object of the game was to reach three goals out of five.)  Such a short show being bad for business, the proprietor asked the captains for a rematch.  The second game was better contested, taking 15 minutes to end with a score of West Acton’s three goals to South Acton’s two.  Player George E. Holton was singled out as an excellent rusher with “astonishing” accuracy in hitting the ball into the goal. [15]

During the fall of 1884, the West Actons’ matches appeared in the news.  The West Actons and South Actons met again on September 27. [16]  Other matches reported in various papers were against the Websters of Boston, the Hudsons, the Leominsters, the Wekepekes (Clinton), the Alphas (South Framingham), and the Fairmounts (Marlborough). [17]  The team joined the newly formed Union Polo League in November with Marlborough, Leominster, Clinton, South Framingham and Hudson. [18]  The Globe mentioned the West Acton team having a game in the week of Dec. 21 1884. [19]  Then without explanation, on Dec. 28, 1884, the Globe announced, “Owing to the disbanding of the West Actons and their withdrawal, the Hudsons lose two games, and the Wekepekes and Naticks lose one each.” [20]  We have not found out the story of what happened to the West Acton team.  Perhaps they were not performing well at that point, as the Globe had reported on the 16th that “The game at West Acton last Saturday evening, between the Wekepekes and West Actons, was won by the former in the remarkably short time of 2 minutes 5 seconds.” [21]   The team also lost to the Naticks by allowing three straight goals on December 18th. [22]   Perhaps West Acton had lost some players to other teams or to other pursuits.  Competition between rinks was increasing; the Herald announced on December 14 that “Rinks are being opened at the rate of almost two a day.” [23]  Close to home, Maynard’s new rink was about open. [24]  

Author Percy Wood did not know who owned or managed the rink, but our newspaper searches revealed that the manager was Thomas O’Brien. [25]  He seems to have been quite enterprising.  For example, West Acton’s innovative thinking was singled out in the Globe on Oct. 26, 1884 when the rink held a “Campaign race” in which all the presidential candidates were impersonated.  To win, the impersonator had to reach the rink’s “presidential chair” first.  The People’s Party was the winner.  The Globe mentioned that “The Belva of the occasion was gorgeously gotten up,” a reference to suffragette Belva Ann Lockwood of the newly-formed Equal Rights Party. [26]

Our own newspaper collection showed that Thomas O’Brien was busy finding ways to keep the rink excitement going in West Acton, even without a “home team” to cheer for.  On February 27,1885, the Littleton Courant reported on a party on Feb. 14 at which all patrons received a valentine, an exhibition of the Milo Brothers’ “fancy skating and other feats,” and a “popular orange race,” (in which contestants would alternate grabbing  an orange from a crate at the center of the rink and doing laps without dropping the oranges retrieved already). [27]  A stained and torn Acton Patriot (April 24) in our collection tells us that J. F. Kaufman and Maud Boyd’s waltzing and fancy skating were “a marvel of grace and beauty, showing long and careful practice.”  They called themselves “The King and Queen of the Rollers,” a title apparently claimed by many.  The same Patriot reported that “Next Saturday at the rink there will be a gold medal race between E. E. Handley and George E. Holton.  An interesting contest expected.”  [28]  Twice during 1885, the West Acton rink hosted games involving the Niagara female polo team, who seem to have been a good draw. [29]

Thomas O’Brien had not given up on local polo teams at that point, because the April 24, 1885 Patriot also announced that “Rink Manager O’Brien has some gold medals he proposes to put up for competition between clubs formed in Acton, West Acton and South Acton and possibly Maynard.  This is an interesting, exciting and scientific game.  The medals will be of substantial style and worth playing for.  Boys, get your sticks and uniforms ready.” [30]  Sadly, we have no more local papers of the period to tell us what happened.  When the Union Polo League planned their organizational meeting for the fall season on October 19, the West Acton rink manager was included.  The Herald reported that the South Actons would be one of the teams, but when the League’s membership was announced the next week, it only included clubs from Arlington, South Framingham, Clinton, Hudson, Marlboro and Maynard. [31]   We were not able to find any mention of a South Acton team’s games.

The rink had other problems besides lack of local polo teams.  Harmless as roller skating seems to us today, the pastime encountered strong objections from some members of the clergy including the minister of West Acton’s Baptist church Rev. C. L. Rhodes.  According to Percy Wood, Rev. Rhodes “strongly warned the young people of [his] church to stay away from what he evidently regarded as a den of iniquity.”  Presumably, some of his flock listened to his warnings and did indeed stay away.  Others seem to have ignored him.  One young man who later became a pillar of the community obeyed his preacher by avoiding the West Acton rink and skating elsewhere instead.

Rev. Rhodes was not alone in his condemnation.  The Lowell Sun reported that “The game of polo originated in the modern den of depravity known as the skating rink, and it has proved itself worthy of its low and demoralizing source.” [32]  Morality was not the only concern.  The Globe quoted a doctor, who, in trying to understand the cause of a large increase in pneumonia deaths, blamed roller skating.  Acknowledging that he was just speculating and that people died of pneumonia without roller skating, he went on to say, “But I can say with certainty that such exposure as the roller skating mania produces is likely to produce pneumonia.  Here are, say 20,000 young people going every night to skating rinks or balls.  They indulge in violent exercise in heated rooms and then go out into the chill air, possibly thinly clad, and the result is fatal inflammation of the lungs.”  A young woman who danced vigorously and then went outside in her ballgown would be considered “very indiscreet,” yet skaters, finding the cool air pleasant, apparently made a habit of walking “through the chilly streets while yet perspiring from their violent exercise.”  [33]

It is hard to say what effect such opinions had on the West Acton rink.  Though it survived 1885, we have found no mention of it after that.  The roller skating craze had probably peaked by then, and increased competition undoubtedly caused a shakeout in the market.  Ads started appearing for rink sales.  In July, 1885, an ad for a rink mentioned “good reasons for selling.” [34]  In November 1885, a “first-class skating rink” an hour from Boston was looking for an infusion of capital, and in December the Globe advertised a skating rink with fixtures “in large town for 1/3 value; good chance to make money; no competition.” [35]  Even more dramatically, the Globe reported that a skating rink built for $17,000 the previous year with a white marble “underpinning,” and $4,000 of skates had been offered for sale at $800. [36]

After the West Acton rink closed, it evidently stood empty.  Percy Wood reported that the rink building “had one narrow escape from destruction from fire on a Fourth of July during which many of the citizens were out of town.  A fire broke out in the storage shed located between the railroad tracks and the present Spruce Street.  Fortunately, the fire was confined to the area in which it started, despite the lack of manpower and only the most primitive fighting equipment.  The rink was, however, seriously threatened and was saved largely by the efforts of a man who was nearly exhausted by his exertions but was revived by a bowl of ginger tea supplied by a kindly neighbor.”  Newspaper searches, unfortunately, did not turn up information about that fire, so we were unable to confirm the date.  Percy Wood continued, “Instead of being left to stand as an eyesore, the building was taken down by Mr. John Hoar, the well known contractor and builder, and was used to construct a house on Central Street in West Concord.  But on the original site Arlington St. in West Acton, there is not a trace of what was once a popular amusement center.” 

Whenever the West Acton rink disappeared, we know that sport and exercise in Acton continued.  The Concord Enterprise reported that the Acton Cycle Club polo team went to Concord and defeated the home team’s “gentlemanly fellows” in February 1895.  [37]  That game may have been played on ice, as “ice polo” teams were forming in the 1890s.  Toward the end of that decade, West Acton had another chance at indoor roller skating.  The ever-enterprising Hanson A. Littlefield announced in the January 6, 1898 Concord Enterprise that Littlefield’s Hall had been fitted for roller skating.  Open skating would cost ten cents, and the facility could be rented by private parties. [38]  We do not know how long that lasted, but the Hall itself burned down in 1904.

The West Acton roller skating rink might have completely escaped our notice if it had not been for Percy Wood’s documenting Acton memories.  Thanks are also due to organizations that are digitizing and sharing old newspapers.  If anyone has pictures or mementos of West Acton’s roller skating rink or Acton’s polo teams that they would be willing to share, donate or scan, we would be very grateful to add them to our archives.

 
Newspaper References:
[1] Middlesex Recorder, Apr. 18, 1885, page 3 (Jenks Library)
[2] Boston Globe, March 23, 1885, p.4
[3] Boston Globe, Jan. 27, 1876, p. 5
[4] Fitchburg Sentinel, April 7, 1880, p. 3; Dec. 16, 1881, p. 3
[5] Boston Globe, Nov. 18, 1883, p. 6; Jan. 20, 1884, p. 2; March 23, 1884, p. 6
[6] Boston Globe, Apr. 16, 1885, p. 8
[7] Boston Globe, Nov. 27, 1885, p3; Mar. 24, 1887, p. 5
[8] Boston Globe, Jan. 14, 1878, p. 2
[9] Boston Globe, Nov. 19, 1885, p. 3
[10] Boston Globe, Jan. 20, 1884, p. 2; Mar. 23, 1884, p. 6
[11] Boston Herald, October 14, 1885, p. 2
[12] Boston Globe, Jan. 31, 1885, p. 4
[13] Boston Herald, Nov. 25, 1885, p. 3
[14] Boston Globe, June 22, 1884, p. 6
[15] Boston Herald, Aug. 17, 1884, p. 2; Boston Journal, August 19, 1884, p. 3
[16] Boston Journal, Sept. 30, 1884, p. 4
[17] Boston Herald, Aug. 31, 1884, p. 2; Boston Globe, Oct. 24, 1884, p. 2; Boston Herald, Dec. 7, 1884, p. 7; Worcester Daily Spy, Dec. 8, 1884, p. 3; Boston Herald, Dec. 14, 1884, p.4; Boston Globe, Dec. 19, 1884, p. 2 Boston Globe, Dec. 21, 1884, p. 10
[18] Boston Journal, Nov. 24, 1884, p. 3; Boston Globe, Nov. 23, 1884, p. 15
[19] Boston Globe, Dec. 21, 1884, p. 10
[20] Boston Globe, Dec. 28, 1884, p. 10
[21] Boston Globe, Dec. 16, 1884, p. 6
[22] Boston Globe, Dec. 19, 1884, p. 2
[23] Boston Herald, Dec. 14, 1884, p. 4
[24] Boston Globe, Dec. 21, 1884, p. 10
[25] Boston Globe, Nov. 23, 1884, p. 15; Nov. 30, 1884, p. 10
[26] Boston Globe Oct. 26, 1884, p. 14
[27] Littleton Courant, Feb. 27, 1885, p. 1 (Jenks Library)
[28] Acton Patriot, April 24, 1885, p. 4 (Jenks Library)
[29] Boston Globe May 24, 1885, p. 6; Boston Herald, Oct. 11, 1885, p. 15
[20] Acton Patriot, April 24, 1885, p. 4 (Jenks Library)
[31] Boston Herald, Oct. 18, 1885, p. 7; Boston Globe, Oct. 24, 1885, p. 2
[32] Lowell Sun, March 28, 1885, p. 4
[33] Boston Globe, Mar. 19, 1885, p. 6
[34] Boston Globe Jul. 20, 1885, p. 3
[35] Boston Globe, Nov. 17, 1885, p. 7; Dec. 30, 1885, p. 7
[36] Boston Globe Sept. 25, 1885, p. 6
[37] Concord Enterprise, Feb. 7, 1895, p. 4
[38] Concord Enterprise, Jan. 6, 1898, p. 8
 
Other Sources:
 
Though these references do not mention Acton, they give great detail about the history and state of roller skating and roller polo at the height of the 1880s boom:

• The Champion Skate Book and Complete Amateur's Guide (1884)
• Roller Skating Made Easy (1884)
• Spalding's Manual of Roller Skating (c. 1884)
• Henley’s Manual of Roller Skating (1885)
• The Skater’s Companion (1885)
• Wright & Ditson’s Polo Guide for 1885-1886 Season
• Nicholson’s Roller Skating Rink Book (1886, descriptions of attractions, roller ball, and roller polo)

The Society’s collection includes a copy of a picture of two men and a woman looking up at an ancient tree that is believed to have been located on the Hapgood property in East Acton.  All traces of the tree are long-gone.  In former days, however, the tree was quite well-known.  James Fletcher’s Acton in History (pages 279-280) described it as “one of the original settlers of the town,” thriving when Captain Isaac Davis and Acton’s company of minutemen passed by on their way to Concord’s North Bridge in April, 1775.

Thoreau, who had a great appreciation for old trees, apparently was well-acquainted with the Hapgood chestnut.  We have yet to find a mention of it in Thoreau’s writings, but Emerson wrote in his journal on 6 August 1849 that he and Thoreau had walked to Acton the day before and had visited a big chestnut tree on Strawberry Hill.  That jaunt was apparently not Thoreau’s only visit.  According to local historians, townspeople referred to the tree as “Thoreau’s Chestnut” because of his habit of stopping there.  Thoreau was definitely back on the Hapgood land to do surveying in 1853; his woodlot survey is held at Concord Public Library.  Fletcher’s History tells us that Thoreau visited the old chestnut tree with his sister and measured the trunk at twenty-two feet in circumference.

The Thoreau siblings’ visit must have been before May, 1862 when Thoreau died.  The tree continued to grow and, no doubt, attracted more visitors.  In his 1890 History, Fletcher wrote:
“The interior of the tree is hollow.  The cavity is circular, sixty inches in diameter and twenty-five feet in height, through which one may look and see the sky beyond.  An opening has recently been cut at the bottom and entrance can be easily made.  There are worse places for a night’s lodging.  A good crop of chestnuts is yearly produced by its living branches.  The town should get possession of this luscious tablet of the bygones and see that no ruthless axe take it too soon from the eyes of the present generation.”

Our photograph matches Fletcher’s description of a large tree, hollow inside, with an opening at the bottom and a hole up high, through which one could presumably see the sky.  The fact that Fletcher wrote that an opening had been cut at the bottom “recently” might indicate that the picture was taken in the late 1880s-1890, but it is possible that a gap had existed previously and simply had been enlarged.  Our picture shows three people observing the tree; we have not been able to prove their identities.

Despite the tree’s local fame, its end seems to have been unrecorded in town reports and the local newspaper.  The chestnut may have succumbed to a “ruthless axe” or to the devasting effect of the chestnut blight in the early twentieth century.

The chestnut blight, a fungus that destroys the trees above ground and makes it impossible for young trees to mature, was discovered in New York in 1904.  Believed to have been imported on nursery stock, it started spreading, reaching Massachusetts some years later.  We searched the Concord Enterprise for news of local chestnuts.  At first, the few mentions of chestnuts involved “normal” activity and concerns.  For example, in 1907, West Acton lumber dealer Arthur Blanchard sent his portable sawmill operation to South Sudbury to harvest two lots of chestnut that he had purchased.  (Jan. 2, 1907, p. 1)  That fall, Arthur M. Whitcomb was making barrels with chestnut staves in the old overall shop in West Acton.  (Sept. 18, 1907, p.5)  In October 1911, Maynard landowners were complaining that young trespassers, senselessly shooting at small birds, were damaging chestnut trees; “the terrible abuse which the trees are subjected to are simply ruining them and very soon there will be few decent chestnut trees about here if a stop is not put to this practice.”  (Oct. 25, 1911, p. 3)  The landowners were, possibly accidentally, quite prescient; spores of the blight-causing fungus found entry through wounds in chestnut trees’ bark.

The Boston Herald  (Jan. 21, 1912, Sunday Magazine, p. 1) reported on the spread of the chestnut fungus and the experience of other states.  At that point, the blight had started to show up in Massachusetts, particularly on the Connecticut border.  Historically, the chestnut had been admired by and useful to the people in its range, providing wood products, abundant nuts in the fall, and shade.  By the time the blight was discovered, chestnut trees, naturally rot-resistant, were the primary local source of telephone poles and railroad ties.  They were also used by furniture makers, carpenters, and tanneries (an important Massachusetts industry).  Ecologically, the loss of the chestnut was even worse, as it was also a major source of food for wildlife.  (For more information about the blight, see a Report by the Forest Service.)

Despite the ecological and economic damage caused by the fungus, there was little mention of it in Acton sources as the blight spread.  The town’s annual Tree Warden reports made no mention of the loss of chestnuts or of the blight during the whole 1904-1940 period. This could be because farmers, fruit growers, and landowners were coping with the arrival of brown-tailed and gypsy moths, San Jose Scale, and the elm leaf beetle.  It could also be that most of Acton’s American chestnuts had already been cut down.

Turning back to the Concord Enterprise for news of local chestnuts, we learned that they did not all go at once.  In November, 1916, children headed out from the West Acton Baptist church “chestnutting” in the towns of Boxboro, Harvard and Stow.  The report was that they were not very successful in their hunt, but they had a good time playing hide and seek.  (Nov. 1, 1916, p. 10)  In December of that year, the Enterprise started  mentioning the blight in general terms.  (Dec. 20, 1916, p.2)  Two months later, it was noted that people were “cutting down the forests at a fearful rate” and that disease and insect pests, including the chestnut blight, were causing great harm.  (Feb. 21, 1917, p. 2)  In April, 1917, the paper discussed the white pine blister rust that appeared set to destroy the pine forests, an extremely alarming prospect for Massachusetts, though it was believed that the rust could be stopped much more easily than chestnut blight. (April 18, 1917, p. 7)

In 1919, the local paper reported that farther west in Massachusetts, a town was so hard-hit that townspeople believed that all the “old spread” chestnuts would be gone within three years.  (March 19, 1919, p. 4)  On Oct. 22, 1919, the Enterprise finally commented directly on the fate of local chestnuts, saying that the blight seemed to be destroying them and that there was no known way to combat it. (p. 2)

As the destruction of chestnut trees began to seem inevitable, experts urged landowners to cut down the trees before they were too far deteriorated to be of economic use.  We do not know if that was the fate of Thoreau’s Chestnut or not.  We do know that its owner Benjamin Hapgood died in 1920, and his farm was auctioned off in 1923.  An ad for the auction advertised, among many other items, a “lot of Chestnut 2x4 and 2x6.”  Where the lumber came from, we have no way of knowing.  (Enterprise, Nov. 14, 1923, p. 1)

Whatever happened to Thoreau’s Chestnut, it is clear that only a few recorded memories are left.  If you have pictures or stories about it, or if you can help us to confirm the identity of the people and the tree in our picture, we would love to hear from you.  Please contact us.

One of New England’s familiar sights is a stone wall in a forest, a remnant of land use in days gone by.  Based on what we can see, many of us assume that farmers would have removed the many rocks from their fields and stacked them in two- to three-foot-high walls to delineate their property from their neighbors’ or to serve as a barrier to animals.  The former landscape that we envision would have been open fields and gardens surrounded, if not by wooden fencing, by relatively low stone walls.  Most of us today have had no experiences to challenge that view.

Visitors to our recently refurbished landscape are surprised to discover that above our stone walls at the Hosmer House are crossed, wooden poles.  Why would we ruin the look of “iconic” stone walls?  As it turns out, while our imagined Massachusetts farm landscape is not entirely fictitious, farmers often supplemented their rock walls with wood to make enclosures higher and less likely to let animals escape.  According to Robert Thorson’s Stone by Stone, a hybrid fence of stone on the bottom and wood on the top was very common.  The stone walls, in many cases, were “linear landfills” to give farmers somewhere to put the rocks cluttering their fields, and the wood raised the height of the fences to the 3.5-5 feet considered necessary to block the movement of animals. 

Farmer’s wooden fence extensions have, of course, rotted away, so we have no way of knowing which of the many stone walls in Acton would have been built up with wood.  It is quite possible that Jonathan and Simon Hosmer and those who came after them on our property built mixed, high walls to keep in their livestock.

The Society’s new walls are a reminder that we need to keep our minds open to learn more about the lives of Acton’s former residents.  Even commonly-held ideas of how things were in earlier days may simply reflect the fact that our frame of reference is very different from theirs.