A Grave Matter

The Gridley Cemetery, 1764.

After my last story, the one that helped rediscover the Boston milestones around town, I headed out to repaint the ancient relics. I had done this before, about five years ago. This time, my brother Jonathan and I dutifully drove to the stones around Canton and took some time painting in the carving and cleaning up the faces. At one point, Jonathan turned to me and asked, “What else can we paint?” The question was simple, almost asking, “What else has been lost that we can rediscover?”

It seems to me that there are plenty of long-neglected sites in Canton that could use a bit of sprucing up. Case in point: what is historically known as the Gridley Graveyard. Few people realize that it exists, but in fact it is closer than you may think. As you drive toward Cobb’s Corner, and just after the waterfall at Shepard’s Pond, on your left is Kinsley Place, a small street that dips down a hill.

Find a respectable place to park, and on your right is a tiny field hardly bigger than a postage stamp. You will not see any gravestones or markers. A crude sign is erected proclaiming the site as Gridley Cemetery. The weathered sign is slowly deteriorating and time is overtaking this space very slowly. Along the edges of the plot are a lovingly tended grape arbor and plenty of vibrant Hostas. Bearing silent testament to time is a large tree, a maple perhaps, standing at the back corner of this place. Measuring barely 20 by 25 feet, there is not much to see here. A recent mowing caused historian Jim Roache to wryly ponder if a cookout was planned, as this is a perfect picnic spot.

What lies beneath, however, is a part of Canton’s history that is both celebratory and sad. This plot was not planned; rather it was opened by necessity. In 1763, a full-blown epidemic ravaged Boston, and in May 1764, the scourge of smallpox darkened the small town of Stoughton. In the Canton Historical Society, in a lead-lined drawer, there is a small diary written in the hand of the Minister Elijah Dunbar. The entries are indescribably small and equally hard to read. The diary entries for 1764 are dark and forlorn. It would appear that people were falling ill at an alarming rate. The time was known as the “visitation,” and nothing would stop the pox from indiscriminately cutting down young and old in a matter of days.

Elijah Dunbar writes: “May 27, terrible time on account of the pox.” In June the entries pick up the pace of the disease: “Vilet died this night, a very terrible time, Leonards folks taken with the small pox, Mrs. Vose dies of the small pox, Old Joseph Fenno dies, Polly Billings dies of the small pox; purple sort, Leonards family in great distress, Sunday Mrs. Davenport dies of the small pox.”

By mid June, the parish began fasting and prayer in the hope of staving off the disease. At this same time, Mary Leonard and her newborn baby die followed three days later by Nurse Howard. Families perished, only to find few willing to bury the dead.

The Gridley Cemetery was opened to bury these dead souls. There are no official records that tell us who are interred in this ground. The markers were standing in 1893, but they are long lost. Folklore suggests that they were taken away and used as stone steps or foundation rubble in some of the homes in the vicinity. We do have a record of a few of the carvings.

They all tell a sad story: “Here lies ye body of Mr. Wally Leonard, who died of small pox, June the 14th, 1764, in the 44th year of his age.” And another: “Here lies ye body of Mrs. Mary Leonard, and her new born babe, the wife and child of Ensign Nathaniel Leonard, who died of small pox, June ye 14th, 1764, in the 39th year of her age.” Even the young were hardly spared: “Here lies the body of Mary Billings, daughter of Mr. William and Mrs. Mary Billings, who died of small pox, June 8, 1764, in the 18th year of her age.”

Eventually the small cemetery was enclosed with two low stone walls and became part of the conveyances when abutting property was sold. Principally, the cemetery was opened as a family burying plot for the Leonard family. You may recall Nathaniel Leonard carved the 1736 milestone, our oldest marker and now at Shepard’s Pond. Perhaps Leonard carved some of the stones that have been long lost. After Leonard died in 1772, his son Jacob conveyed the property to Richard Gridley, Edmund Quincy and others.

Major General Richard Gridley was an impressive man in American history. In fact, Gridley is credited as the founder of the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers. Born in Boston in 1711 to a well-established family, he would become a giant in the American Revolution. Space does not allow a full explanation of his accomplishments, but suffice it to say that Gridley was a patriot in the truest sense of the word. At age 61, Gridley had business interests in Canton and was involved in a venture that purchased Massapoag Pond to mine it for iron ore that would be used to cast cannons for the American Revolution. In the spring of 1772, Gridley purchased a house in Canton from the Leonard family. Gridley named his home “Stoughton Villa.” The house is now gone, but it is rumored that the peonies on the property still bloom from the stock planted by Gridley. Along with the house came the small burying ground.

Alongside the graves of the smallpox victims, the Gridley family is buried. General Gridley’s son, Scarborough, was laid to rest in 1787, and Gridley’s wife, Hannah (Demming), was buried in 1790. There were two daughters, Becky and Polly, who are perhaps buried here as well. It was the general, however, who was buried here to which the name of this place is attached.

In a declining age, Gridley was in financial distress. His business partnership had soured and had caused considerable financial drain. Among Gridley’s creditors was listed John Hancock, Edmund Quincy’s brother-in-law. Gridley’s last public appearance was at the laying of the cornerstone of the Massachusetts State House in 1795. That same year he signed the petition for the Act of Incorporation of the Town of Canton. In late life, at an advanced age, Gridley took great pleasure in tending to his gardens. Cutting dogwood bushes in the summer of 1796, Gridley contracted blood poisoning and died at age 85. On June 23, the old revered general was laid to rest in the quiet spot of this family graveyard.

The final resting place of the remains
of an American Patriot, Major General Richard Gridley,
1711-1796 (Photo by George T. Comeau)

For almost 80 years the grave was neglected. As early as 1874, however, a move was afoot to somehow recognize this great man. Gridley, a Freemason, was celebrated in an early magazine article written by Brother D.T. V. Huntoon, with a closing remark that read: “The school that is situated nearest to where his house stood is called the Gridley school, but the children, as they pass and repass the little graveyard, know not that one of the distinguished men of the Revolution sleeps his last sleep in its quiet precincts. But the Patriot and Mason, as he passes, may pause and ask himself: Is it right that one, who in days gone by defended his country with bravery, and upheld the ancient landmarks with zeal, should thus be forgotten and neglected by his Brethren and countrymen?”

On an autumn day in 1876, a small committee of men gathered at the Gridley Cemetery with the intent to remove the moldering remains of the deceased patriot. After a false start, the men located the grave, and seven feet below the surface the coffin was reached. A trowel was used to clear the grave, and the skull of Gridley was lifted from the earth. A quantity of grey hair attached helped identify the remains, to which a small braided ponytail, his queue, was pocketed by Elijah Morse. The contents of the grave were placed in a box and reinterred at a suitable monument at the Canton Corner Cemetery.

Today, you can visit Gridley’s final resting place, impressive in size and topped with a cannon in the imitation of a “Hancock” or “Adams,” which served Gridley so well at Bunker Hill. On the other hand, you can visit his wife and family more than two miles away to the south on Kinsley Place, in a long forgotten graveyard that tells a story that should be memorialized and respected for the souls buried therein. On this 215^th anniversary of Gridley’s death, plan a pilgrimage to both spots and pay homage to the man and his family, a true son of Canton and of America.

Mile by Mile

You probably drive by them all the time without noticing. They sit by the side of the road, silent necessities of our Colonial era that are no longer needed in a modern age. The small stone mile markers, milestones, have been marking the distance from Boston since the early 1700s.

Today, with our satellite-guided navigation systems and global positioning devices, we are hard-pressed to get lost in our modern age. Our milestones are wonderful reminders of a distant age; they require no winding or batteries, and their warranties have long run out, but they still tell the distance to Boston and can be counted on in all types of weather.

The milestones in Canton are part of a network of stones that all lead the way to Boston. Five roads connected Boston with neighboring towns and were collectively called the Bay Roads, since they ultimately led to the Massachusetts Bay at Boston Harbor. Likely these began as Native American paths to the shore, and over time became developed cart paths and ultimately roads and highways. Our “bay road,” the Old Bay Road from Boston Bay to Taunton, extended from the earliest of settlements at Providence, Rhode Island, and the Narragansett Bay. This path was used for more than a century prior to the American Revolution and for more than 50 years thereafter. It would be the “turnpike” systems that would replace this road in the mid 1800s, but until then Bay Road was the route most preferred.

What began as a bridle path and then a cart path would become our main thoroughfare. Laid out by the selectmen of Dorchester in 1700 and again in 1712, it has had many names. In 1703 it was called the road leading to Billings’ in Sharon. In 1707 this was called the road leading to Rehoboth. Other names over the years included “Road to Rhode Island,” “The King’s Highway,” and “the great road from Boston to Taunton.” In 1840, that portion that travels through Canton between Milton and Sharon became known as Washington Street.

As the early colonists began building and improving roads, they erected mile markers to measure the distances between taverns, churches, meetinghouses, schoolhouses and blacksmiths. It was Paul Dudley, a Roxbury native educated at Harvard (class of 1690), who left an enduring legacy of milestones throughout greater Boston. From 1729 onward, Dudley erected stones measuring the distance to the then Boston Town House, now the Old State House. All of the distances on the stones, including Canton, assume a route along Washington Street in Roxbury to Eliot Square. In reality, the distances between each stone are wonderfully accurate.

At Roxbury, the town center was located at John Eliot Square, where a meetinghouse had been built in 1632. And at the fork of Roxbury and Centre streets can be found the “Parting Stone,” the terminus between the roads that lead to Boston.

For our purposes, let’s start our journey at the Milton line as we cross in front of the Blue Hills. It is here, just slightly over the Canton and Milton boundary line, that milestone 12 sits. Actually, as I began writing this story, it occurred to me that I had never actually seen this milestone. A quick detour away from the computer and out across Canton was in order.

The missing 12th milestone that was
removed from Route 138 sometime
 in the early 1970s
(Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

Milestone 12 was last recorded in 1950 when 22 milestone markers were carefully located and mapped after 200 years with the hope that “these milestones may still so repose after 200 more.” Locating these markers was a passion of Channing Howard, a founder of the Boston engineering firm of Whitman & Howard and an avid historian. Mr. Howard lived in Winthrop and meticulously plotted the routes and locations of the stones leading to Boston. Several letters on the topic of milestones can be found in the Canton Historical Society between Charlotte Endicott Wilde, an avid local historian, and Mr. Howard. Included in the society file are several maps showing the locations as they were found in the 1950s.

Driving over Route 128, and to your left, heading towards Blue Hill, is Milestone 13. In the cloverleaf between the exits there is a “Welcome to Canton” sign, and just next to it is the 13^th mile marker placed by John Spare in 1786. Exactly one mile to the north on Route 138 should be the 12^th milestone. I pulled off the road at a safe spot and walked in both directions north and south. No stone to be found. The 12^th marker should be on the westerly side of the road, just at the line. Plenty of poison ivy can be found, and two private driveways. The marker is lost. Even a “trespass” behind a high stockade fence failed to yield the whereabouts of the marker. Placed here by Lemuel Davenport, this granite monument read “12 miles to Boston, 1774, L.D.” Stoughton historian Howard Hansen recalls seeing the milestone in the early 1960s; by the early 1970s the road was leveled, a hill removed and the stone disappeared. Likely this relic adorns a garden or has become a backyard conversation piece.

Turning south and continuing back into Canton, just over the bridge that crosses Route 128 (now I-93), you will again pass the John Spare milestone. Spare was the son of Samuel Spare, an early settler, who came to Stoughton in 1738. The marker was placed quite near the family home on what was known as Cherry Hill. John Spare was a member of the Stoughton Minutemen and served in the Revolutionary War.

Another mile south should yield milestone 14, and the odometer places this spot directly at the Old English Burying Ground. In front of the burying ground are two large stones with historical inscriptions detailing this site. In 1952, Mrs. Wilde, in a letter to Mr. Howard, writes, “I could not help wondering if the opposite side of [these] stones, which is wholly covered by banking and turf, might not have been the old 14 mile stone.” It may be the case that the milestone was reused in this wall, for in 1843, after many years of complaint and controversy, a new wall was erected. Granite posts, which had adorned the mansion of Gardiner Greene in Boston, were reset and iron gates were installed. Alas, the gates and any trace of milestone 14 are lost.

Further south we come to milestone 15, simply marked “B 15 M” and leaning into Washington Street in front of the earliest section of St. Mary’s Cemetery. This grey ghost is easy to find and almost as easy to hit with an ill intentioned driver. Milestone 16 is reported to have been approximately where the old Endicott house stands, just before the high school. It has long been believed that this stone may very well be buried in one of the old walls that grace this section of Washington Street.

The 17th Mile Stone. Relocated from the original
location (shown here) and now at the waterfall on
Pond & Washington Streets. (Courtesy of the
Canton Historical Society.)

Measuring another mile, the final stone along Washington Street should by all accounts be located near the present-day Dockray and Thomas Funeral Home. Many residents, however, know that the 17^th milestone is located near the falls at Shepard’s Pond in the “Hardware” section of Canton. This is our oldest stone, set here in 1736 by Nathaniel Leonard. Leonard, born in 1717, was active in the early iron business. This stone originally sat across the street and had been saved after being buried in the roadway, reset in place, and in more modern times moved by the town of Canton across the street in the small park near Pond Street. Interestingly enough, this milestone is more than three-eighths of a mile away from where a measured mile should place it. At 275 years old, it can sit wherever it wants, even if it no longer accurately measures the distance to the Old State House.

A youthful Ed Galvin, member of the
Canton Historical Society, repaints the 17th milestone
on Pleasant Street on Memorial Day 1965.
(Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

One final note to share on Canton milestones: There are three more stones that are quite curious. There is a stone at Canton Center railroad crossing measuring the distance to Providence, Rhode Island. And on Pleasant Street there are two more Boston milestones marked “B 17 M – 1773” and “B 16 M – 1773.” So, curious reader, you may be thinking, “Ah, these are the missing stones on Washington Street. Not the case, the 17^th stone is Nathaniel Leonard’s near Pond Street, and no explanation has surfaced as to why the markers that follow the “Bay Road” depart up through Pleasant Street.

Channing Howard wrote in 1939 that it was his work to “rescue from threatened oblivion and preserve the story of this noble road — great in both history and romance — for those who come after. May its glory not grow dim.” To this end, every few years I go out and repaint the letters and dates on these markers. If you are so inclined to join me, I’ll have a brush and paint ready. We can all preserve our town’s history, mile by mile.

The author plans on visiting each stone on Memorial Day weekend and repainting these relics. If you would like to come along, drop an email to geocomeau@gmail.com.

Massapoag House

Massapoag House from an 1848 sheet music cover.
(Collection of the author)

Our kitchen is the “Canton room,” according to my wife. Of course, all things Canton seem to find their way into every room of our house. As part of her spring-cleaning ritual, several pieces of framed artwork have found their way onto the kitchen walls, pieces that might have been relegated to an upstairs closet. One of my favorite bits of Canton memorabilia is the sheet music cover for the Massapoag March. This once grand part of Canton’s history can now only be found in images and distant memories.

Today, as a new hotel goes up near the foot of the Great Blue Hill, it turns out that this is our first new hotel since the Massapoag House was built in 1789. And while there is a long history of taverns and boarding houses in Canton, indeed the Massapoag House was a true “hotel” by all standards.

The view of the Kinsley Iron Works and Massapoag Hall.
 (Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

The three-story Massapoag House was an imposing structure located on the land of the present-day post office. For over 70 years this landmark was the center of social and Catholic life in our community. It is hard to imagine such a grand building imposing upon the streetscape, but Massapoag House was quite a special place. At the Boston Museum of Fine Arts there is a painting in the Karolik Collection of American Paintings, and this 1850 landscape by an unknown artist (perhaps Joseph Hidley 1830-1872) shows an idyllic view of Canton and the Kinsley Iron Works, and most specially the Massapoag House.

The building began life in 1789 as a private residence for Jonathan “Quaker” Leonard. Quaker Leonard was, well, a Quaker — a member of the Society of Friends — and a businessman and partner of Adam Kinsley. And at age 26, Quaker Leonard was building considerable wealth. Leonard descended from a family that hailed from Pontypool, England, and when they came to America, they brought with them the knowledge of the working of iron ore.

Leonard’s father, Eliphalet, began making guns for the American Revolution in Easton, and it was here that Jonathan Leonard met Kinsley. Leonard, known to be eccentric and bright, obtained even more insight into iron production when, upon hearing that steel was being made in Pennsylvania, he traveled there to investigate. Under the guise of being a simpleton, he engaged in industrial espionage and worked as a menial employee at the furnace, thus bringing even more knowledge to the business in Canton and Easton.

As for the other half of the partnership, for folks who know their history, Kinsley is a name synonymous with iron in Norfolk County, and at the time in America. In 1788, Leonard and Kinsley erected a blacksmith’s shop near the present-day waterfall at “Forge” Pond. The business was brisk, and between 1790 and 1800, more than 200 mill-saws and 3,600 scythes were manufactured, all implements of a growing post-colonial economy.

At the time, the majority of iron ore came from Lake Massapoag in Sharon. This 353-acre spring-fed lake was drawn down to expose bog iron that would be refined in Canton and Easton. It is no wonder that Massapoag House would have such a strong connection to the great pond in Sharon, as the source of wealth was the raw material that would build a nation.

So, in 1789, Leonard built Massapoag House next to the factory — by all accounts a large and imposing two-story building. The firm of Leonard & Kinsley continued until 1821 when the partnership split, and Leonard took the land on the easterly side of Washington Street and Kinsley took the land on the westerly side. Eventually, the Kinsley Iron Works would own all of the land when Leonard’s fortunes turned bad. Leonard believed that a rich mine of lead ore would be found in Easton, and he exhausted his considerable fortunes in pursuit of this mine. Massapoag House was lost to his creditors sometime between 1833 and 1835. Leonard left, some say in shame, and according to Huntoon, moved to New Orleans. Recent sources seem to indicate that he died on October 25, 1839, in Biloxi, Mississippi. Massapoag House became a public house managed by David Spaulding.

By the time the Viaduct was being built in 1834, James Bent was running his tavern at the site, and he ran a stagecoach line from Canton to Boston. Bent was the son of Captain William Bent, the landlord of the Eagle Inn. So in keeping with the family business, Massapoag House continued to be a tavern. A stop in Canton would have been on the route to Providence or Boston, and the stage line would have several places to drop passengers. The building was remade as a public house and the Canton Lyceum (a literary society) met regularly at this tavern. In fact, the Canton Lyceum was the “salon” of Canton — where ideas were debated regularly and eventually the literary collection would become the foundation of the Canton Public Library. The big change for Massapoag House would come in 1848, when Lyman Kinsley, Adam Kinsley’s son, expanded, remodeled and added a third-story, thus creating the finest rural hotel in New England.

Opening Night Invitation, 1848
(Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

The drawing in my kitchen is featured on the opening playbill for the Grand Ball, held on Thursday, February 3, 1848. It was Kinsley that gave the house its name, Massapaog House. There is another painting of this place. A beautiful landscape at the MFA was probably commissioned at this time and features both Kinsley’s new building and his factory. The color version of the oil painting shows a beautiful blue sky with cotton candy clouds. It is doubtful that the area ever boasted a beautiful sky, since the factory was so close by. For many years the hotel flourished, but the smoke from the forges in the immediate vicinity would make a stay disagreeable. By 1909, the fortunes of the Kinsley Iron Works were dissolved, and once again creditors would step in and sell the property.

In 1909, the Catholic Church bought the building at auction. As such, in more modern times the association more closely recalled with this building is that of the Canton Catholic Club and Guild. The basement boasted three bowling alleys while a movie theatre showed silent films, and in the rear of the first floor there was a large billiards parlor. Canton’s Catholic population had swelled during the late part of the 19^th century, and to help occupy the attention and time, the Catholic Club offered many diversions. This was the home to the Canton Royal Rooters of 1915.

The fire that destroyed the Canton Catholic Club,
1918, photo by Judge Gregory Grover.
 (Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

The end would come more than 129 years after it was built. Early on January 5, 1918, fire destroyed the 130-year-old structure. “It was an absolutely fascinating thing to watch,” recalled Town Clerk Carlton Taber, who as a young boy remembered being at the scene after hearing the fire alarm split the frigid morning air. “The water became ice in nothing flat.” Judge Gregory Grover took several photos from his front lawn where the fire was fought.

So, as you climb the stairs to the Post Office, it is hard to imagine that the center of social life in Canton was here on this site. If you pause for a moment, you might hear the laughter of children, or catch a whisper of lovers on a first date; the strains of music float through time from the dance hall where Nathaniel Bent would cut the “pigeon’s wing.” As Huntoon writes: “The happy nights passed in the old hall will linger in the memory till time with us shall be no more.”

Massapoag House

The Massapoag House 

A recent column in the Canton Citizen commented on the fact that a new hotel is being built in Canton and that this was the first new hotel since the Massapoag House was built in 1789. And, while there is a long history of taverns and boarding houses in Canton, indeed the Massapoag House was a true "hotel" by all standards.  

The three-story Massapoag House was an imposing structure located on the land of the present day post office. For over seventy years this landmark was the center of social and Catholic life in our community. It is hard to imagine such a grand building imposing upon the streetscape, but Massapoag House was quite a special place.

The building began life in 1789 as a private residence for Jonathan “Quaker” Leonard. Quaker Leonard was, of course, a Quaker - a member of the Society of Friends, and a businessman and partner of Adam Kinsley. And at age 26, was building considerable wealth. Leonard descended from a family that hailed from Pontypool, England and when they came to America - they brought with them the knowledge of the working of iron ore. Leonard's father, Eliphalet began making guns for the American Revolution in Easton, Mass and it was here that Jonathan Leonard met Adam Kinsley. Leonard, known to be eccentric and bright, obtained even more insight into iron production when upon hearing that steel was being made in Pennsylvania he travelled there to investigate. Under the guise of being a simpleton he engaged in industrial espionage and worked as a menial employee at the furnace thus bringing even more knowledge to the business in Canton and Easton. 


As for the other half of the partnership, for folks who know their history; Kinsley is a name synonymous with iron in Norfolk County, and at the time in America. In 1788 Leonard and Kinsley erected a blacksmith's shop where the present day Centerfield's Restaurant now stands. The business was brisk and between 1790-1800 more than 200 mill-saws and 3600 scythes were manufactured, all implements of a growing post-colonial economy.


At the time the majority of iron ore came from Lake Massapoag in Sharon. This 353 acre spring fed lake was drawn down to expose bog iron that would be refined in Canton and Easton. It is no wonder that Massapoag House would have such a strong connection to the great pond in Sharon as the source of wealth was the raw material that would build a nation.


So, in 1789, Leonard built Massapoag House next to the factory and by all accounts a large and imposing two story building. The firm of Leonard & Kinsley continued until 1821 when they split and Leonard took the land on the easterly side of Washington Street and Kinsley took the land on the westerly side. Eventually the Kinsley Iron Works would come to own all of the land when Leonard's fortunes turned bad. Leonard believed that a rich mine of lead ore would be found in Easton and he pursued this search and in doing so exhausted his considerable fortunes. Massapoag House was lost to his creditors sometime between 1833 and 1835. Leonard left, some say in shame, and according to Huntoon, moved to New Orleans. Recent sources seem to indicate that he died on October 25, 1839 in Biloxi, Mississippi. Massapoag House became a public house managed by David Spaulding.


By the time the Viaduct was being built in 1834, James Bent was running his tavern at the site and he ran a stagecoach line from Canton to Boston. Bent was the son of Captain William Bent the landlord of the Eagle Inn, so in keeping with the family business, Massapoag House continued to be a tavern. A stop in Canton would have been on the route to Providence or Boston and the stage line would have several places to drop passengers. The building was remade as a public house and the Canton Lyceum (a literary society) met regularly at this tavern. In fact, the Canton Lyceum was the "salon" of Canton - where ideas were debated regularly and eventually the literary collection would become the Canton Public Library.The big change for Massapoag House would come in 1848 when Lyman Kinsley, Adam Kinsley's son, expanded, remodeled and added a third-story thus creating the finest county hotel in New England. The drawing (above) was featured on the opening playbill for the Grand Ball held on February 3, 1848. It was Kinsley that gave the house it's name, Massapaog House.


For many years the hotel flourished, but the smoke from the forges in the immediate vicinity would make a stay disagreeable. By 1909 the fortunes of the Kinsley Iron Works were dissolved an once again creditors would step in and sell the property. 

In 1909, the Catholic Church bought the building at auction. As such, in more modern times the association more closely recalled with this building is that of the Canton Catholic Club and Guild.  The basement boasted three bowling alleys, while a movie theatre showed silent films and in the rear of the first floor there was a large billiards parlor. Canton’s Catholic population had swelled during the late part of the 19^th century and to help occupy the attention and time, the Catholic Club offered many diversions. This was the home to the Canton Royal Rooters of 1915. 

Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society

The end would come more than 129 years after it was built. Early on January 5, 1918, fire destroyed the 130 year-old structure. "It was an absolutely fascinating thing to watch," recalled Town Clerk Carlton Taber, who as a young boy remembered being at the scene after hearing the fire alarm split the frigid morning air. "The water became ice in nothing flat." Judge Gregory Grover took this photo from his front lawn where the fire was fought.

So, as you climb the stairs to the Post Office, it is hard to imagine that the center of social life in Canton was here on this site. If you pause for a moment you might hear the laughter of children, or catch a whisper of a lover, perhaps the music of dance hall where Nathaniel Bent would cut the "pigeon's wing." As Huntoon writes: "The happy nights passed in the old hall will linger in the memory till time with us shall be no more."