Remembering the Civil War

Company A, the Canton men who were the first to leave Massachusetts
in the Civil War, shown here at a reunion on September 17, 1898.
(Photo by J. W. Wattles, Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

It may be cliché to say that you can touch history, but in all honesty, our history is made up of the places, artifacts and stories that we preserve for future generations to “touch.” Nowhere is this more evident than in the new exhibit at the Canton Historical Society that lays bare the artifacts brought back by Canton soldiers from the American Civil War.

Affectionately, I have always called the “Histy” Canton’s Attic. The building itself was completed 100 years ago and the Classical Revival building with a modest exterior holds thousands of photographs, artifacts and stories that create a link to our place here in Canton. The Historical Society has been collecting and preserving our history since 1871, when it was founded by a group of men to “obtain and preserve all material that would throw light upon the history of the town.” Many of these men fought in the Civil War, and they carefully placed their artifacts into the building for safekeeping.

It must have been with great pride in Canton and in our military role in the Civil War that prompted Wally Gibbs, the president of the society, to begin work on the current exhibit focusing on the Civil War. As Mr. Gibbs examined the holdings in the vault, and in musty drawers and boxes, he put together the story of war that is poignant and memorable. Each object selected is a direct connection to the intense hardship of battle and the bloody trials endured by our boys as they fought a war on home soil.

The history of Canton is intertwined with the Civil War. More than 600,000 men died in battle and even more would return home with disfiguring wounds on both their bodies and minds. Canton’s resident historian, James Roache, recounted the heavy loss of life from Canton: “In a town of almost 3,500 inhabitants, Canton would suffer the loss of 30 men in battle.”

The names of our lost men are inscribed on the memorial tablets that flank the interior at Memorial Hall. Our town hall is in fact a memorial to those who lost their lives in giving the ultimate sacrifice for freedom. The soldier who once stood outside Memorial Hall, and now is in a corner of the interior, was a tribute to the soldiers of Canton. Today, observe the patina of the statue, weathered and beaten, silently watching the tax collections and dog licenses.

A Union soldier's cartridge case.

In the Canton Historical Society it is in the ordinary that we touch the extraordinary. There is the pewter plate used by Larra E. Wentworth in 1863. The Union canteen carried by Captain John Hall. And most touching is the simple tin plate that was picked up at Wilderness, Virginia, along the rebel lines. Buttons, belt buckles, and dress swords fill a case where time stands still and the battles have ended.

There are Union guns and Confederate rifles. The most interesting of these guns is the Confederate single-shot rifled musket that was taken from the battlefield at Bull Run. The rich, dark wood, smoothed by time, bears a rip from a Union bullet that tore the gun “from the hands of a South Carolinian rebel.” The force of the direct hit on the gun sent the weapon flying and wounded the rebel soldier. Attesting to the force of the shells are two bullets that met midair, united by the impact. The ammunition quieted but still telling tales.

The Civil War bugle owned by Wallace McKendry
from Ponkapoag (Photo by George T. Comeau)

Also long quieted is the bugle that belonged to Wallace McKendry. The son of Captain William McKendry and Harriet Billings, McKendry was born in Ponkapoag and enlisted in Company D 22^nd Regiment and served as a sergeant in the Peninsular Campaign. The cloth cord and tassels are intact, and the owner’s name is simply engraved.

Most remarkably, the Histy owns the two dress swords worn by the grandsons of the patriot Paul Revere. These two men, Paul Joseph and Edward Hutchinson Robbins Revere, were heroes in the truest sense. Upon the call of duty, Paul Joseph Revere would leave a wife and two children. A dear friend urged him not to leave home, to which Revere remarked, “I have weighed it all, and there is something higher still. The institutions of the country — indeed free institutions throughout the world — hang on this moment.”

The war stories surrounding the two Revere men from Canton are the stuff of movies, and sadly of life during war. Space precludes sharing the list of heroics as well as the tribulations. Suffice it to say that imprisonment, torture, hostage exchanges, glorious battles and, ultimately, sacrifice and death, paint a vivid portrait of the lives of these Cantonians. Both of these men represent the covenant with the Union and freedom, offering their lives to consummate the ideals of the United States of America.

The Revere men stand elegant in a large framed portrait above the door to the society vault that contains their military dress swords. Ask Wally Gibbs to see the swords, and touch a rare piece of Revere family history. Edward Revere’s sword is simple and tells the story of the surgeon who died heroically on the battlefield of Antietam on September 17, 1862. Colonel Paul Joseph Revere’s sword is engraved with the names of the battles in which he took part. Ball’s Bluff, Yorktown, West Point, Seven Pines, Fair Oaks, Peach Orchard, Savages Station, White Oak Swamp, Glendale, Malvern Hill, Antietam, and his final battle, Gettysburg. The names chill the air, and each battle brought him closer to death and into history for the name of his family and country. Mortally wounded on July 2, Paul Joseph Revere died at Gettysburg on July 4, 1863.

Detail from a captured Confederate Flag on display at
the Canton Historical Society

As if to punctuate the battles, there is the captured battle flag of the Confederate Army. In a hand-painted case the flag lies under glass. The 12 stars are faded, and the leather eagle slightly worn. The story behind this flag is found in a handwritten affidavit that reads: “This flag was captured by First Sergeant Edwin West of Wallace’s Zouaves 11^th Indiana Regiment at the 3^rd day fight — Battle of Shiloh.” The flag was claimed by West as to have been captured from the First Texas Calvary, taken from the hands of Colonel John O’Neil. In a letter of inquiry dated 1899, the last surviving Civil War veteran from Canton, John D. Billings, wrote to United Confederate Veterans and inquired as to Colonel John O’Neil’s whereabouts. The answer back was that O’Neil was not connected to the First Texas Calvary, but rather was a major, lt. colonel and colonel of the 10^th Tennessee Infantry. O’Neil died in St. Louis, and perhaps along with him was the story behind the capturing of this flag. No matter, the flag is preserved and is a beautiful piece of our history.

Colonel John D. Billings

Many of the items at the society, hundreds in fact, were collected by Colonel Billings. The notes that accompany the fragments of war indicate a man who was thorough and direct. Of the multitude of fragments from the war collected by Billings, we find such items as a piece of a scabbard picked up at Appomattox Courthouse, fragments of a shell found at Cold Harbor, and a tin cartridge case from Antietam. Billings lived until 1933, dying at age 91, and his passion for the war is evident by the breadth of his collection.

Sometimes the stories and connections to our nation’s past can be found in our own hometown, and the items on display are superb connecting points. 

A Ring of the Son of Thunder

Memento Mori ring cast as a memorial to
Rev. Samuel Dunbar, 1783. (Courtesy of Eldred’s Auction)

The simple inscription on the inside of a small gold ring tells an amazing story that reaches back over 300 years to the birth of Samuel Dunbar. The inside of the ring in a colonial script reads: “Rev’d Saml. Dunbar June 15, 1783 AE 78” and a makers mark “PR.”


For all purposes, know that when I write of Canton, I write of the place that began as Dorchester, became Stoughton, was divided into parishes, and ultimately became what we know as Canton in 1797.

A receipt from 1777 signed by Samuel Dunbar
in the collection of the Canton Historical Society

As this town grew, the need for ministerial guidance was at the forefront of this community. The town minister was as important, and perhaps even of greater importance as that of the town doctor or miller. Samuel Dunbar was born in Boston on October 2, 1704, and when he was 4, his father died. At a very early age he attracted the attention of the Reverend Cotton Mather. Mather held the strictest of religious doctrines, best exhibited by his views on witchcraft and the subsequent hangings at Salem. Under Mather’s guidance, Dunbar attended Boston Latin School and Harvard College. By 1727, the people of Canton reached out and sent letters of inquiry asking that the 23 year old accept a ministry over the Church of Christ in Stoughton.


Through the years in Canton, a handsome house was built on what is now Chapman Street. A family grew and the reverend became extremely influential in all things religious and politic. The image of the man in a “long black gown, his snow white bands, his flowing gray wig, his black short-clothes, his knee and shoe buckles” stir a very proper picture of a righteous man. Upon the death of a resident who had not been an attendant at church, Dunbar stood at the head of the coffin and turned to the surviving relatives and proclaimed that “his body was before them, but his soul was in hell.”


In his early ministry in Canton he was a staunch supporter of the Crown, as all were in the middle of the 18th century. Dunbar was of the highest moral character and most esteemed by the entire community. When the call of duty was made by the king in 1755, Dunbar, as chaplain, accompanied Richard Gridley and Paul Revere (then 21) to fight against the French at Crown Point.

The Doty Tavern depicted in an 1876
drawing for Potter’s American
Magazine (Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

Over the years, as discontent grew among the people of the colonies, the fiery reverend changed sides and vociferously supported the patriots’ cause. In fact, in 1774 Dunbar bore witness to the birth of liberty. On Tuesday, August 16, 1774, delegates from around the surrounding towns gathered at Doty Tavern, at the foot of the Blue Hill, to hold a “Congress.” This meeting would bring about the emancipation from the tyrannous hands of the king. What would become known as the Suffolk Resolves was first discussed at this meeting. Dunbar, against the advice of family, friends and fellow ministers, attended the meeting and opened with a prayer that was described as “the most extraordinary liberty prayer” ever heard. It would not be hard to imagine coming from a person who once prayed that God would “put a bit in their mouths and jerk them about, send a strong northeast gale, and dash them [the British fleet] to pieces on Cohasset Rock.”


Dunbar was an amazing man, and in the truest sense a patriot, alongside Adams, Hancock, Revere, and Warren. He was known alternatively as a “Son of Thunder” and a “Son of Consolation.” As the “eldest Son of Liberty,” Dunbar bore witness to an extraordinary time in our history, giving comfort during times of distress and thanks during times of triumph. Samuel Dunbar lived long enough to see victory and the birth of our nation.


The first minister to publicly read the Declaration of Independence from the pulpit died on June 15, 1783. It would take 13 days for the great man to die, in excruciating pain, yet surrounded by family and friends at his home in the Old Parsonage. Huntoon describes the scene: “As the shades of evening approached, his pulse became slower and his breath shorter…” An affectionate friend kneels and inquires upon the old man’s pain, to which the response is, “I have served a good Master, and he has not forsaken me.”

Samuel Dunbar’s Parsonage which once
stood on Chapman Street. (Courtesy of the
Canton Historical Society)

Dunbar’s obituary ran in the Independent Chronicle and the Universal Advertiser on July 3, 1783. “They gather’d together, and with a generofity and tendernefs chearfully agreed to inter him at their common expence” continuing “the congregation, form’d in two ranks, proceeded from the dwelling houfe of the deceafed firft, the church next, then the deceafed borne by twelve principal men of the parifh, and the pall fupported by eight of the neighboring minifters.” Once committed to the grave, the obituary concluded, “The sweet remembrance of the just, Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust.”


And now to the ring. A recent caller from Cape Cod inquired as to what I knew of Dunbar, all of which I have related in this story. The initials “PR” intrigued me. Could this be … Paul Revere? In fact, this gold ring was most likely cast by the hands of the patriot and friend of Dunbar. As was the custom for the wealthy, a provision was made to quickly gather up gold and silver and have it cast into rings as a Memento Mori. These rings would be given as gifts to those closest friends as a way of signifying the importance of the man and as a literal reminder that you too shall “remember your mortality.”


A call to my friend, Nina Zannieri, the executive director of the Paul Revere House, confirmed, “It looks pretty good to us.” But, how does “pretty good” stack up? Digging further we found that in 1783 Paul Revere wrote in his day book that he cast eight rings for a single client, Capt. James Indicot. Zannieri writes, “It seems unlikely that is related to the one in your picture.”


What Zannieri did not immediately connect was the fact that Indicot was actually James Endicott — of Canton. James Endicott served as a captain in the Revolution at Lexington, Dorchester Heights, Cambridge, and Ticonderoga. Endicott was a friend of Revere; in fact, when Endicott’s house burned to the ground in 1806, it was Paul Revere who led the public financial campaign to rebuild the house against the impending winter. The brick house still stands on Washington Street, just past the high school.


Endicott, at 44 years old, was a rising and prominent citizen. A representative to the General Court, justice of the peace appointed by John Hancock, member of the committee that separated Canton from Stoughton, and the town treasurer, it was Endicott that placed an order for eight gold rings with Paul Revere. The daybook entry is made after May but before July 1783, and reads, in part, “to 8 Gold morn’g ring, weight 15.8 – 4 pounds, 4 shilling, 4 pence. Making ——- 1 pound, 6 shilling, 8 pence – Paid.” So, eight rings were cast about the same time as the death of Samuel Dunbar; one has survived.


On April 9 at Eldred’s Auction Gallery in East Dennis, we will see Paul Revere’s memorial gold ring cast for our second minister, Samuel Dunbar, hit the auction block. Presale estimates for this piece of our town’s history are between $4,000 and $8,000. History is alive and well — but at the right price.

Canton's Christmastide Traditions

James Dunbar's Poem "Santa Claus" in the collection 

of the Canton Historical Society (photo by George T. Comeau)

Samuel B. Noyes sat down to write his weekly column for the Norfolk County Gazette. It was Christmas week in 1887, and he thought back at how quickly the year had slipped by. This had been a pretty industrious year for the town of Canton. Our small community was a boomtown; the factories had been going full tilt and Elijah Morse had broken ground on his new factory on Washington Street. Kinsley Iron Works was enlarging their shop, new safety tracks were placed on the Viaduct, a new almshouse was built for the poor, and a new Episcopal Church was being built. All in all, it was a very busy year in a bustling town.

Samuel B. Noyes, prominent Canton attorney
and local historian. (Courtesy of the Canton
Historical Society)

Noyes, a prominent lawyer, saw himself as a historian. In fact, Noyes was descended from the Noyes’ that had settled Newbury, Massachusetts, and he reveled in knowing that the family home in the small town of Newbury was one of the oldest in the state, having been built in 1646. The family connections meant that Noyes knew everyone and in fact was part of a prominent Canton delegation that attended Daniel Webster’s funeral in October 1852.

Noyes enjoyed all things Canton and was a friend of Daniel Huntoon, the town’s preeminent historian. Huntoon had died just over a year ago (almost to the day), and now Noyes felt as though it was his duty to adopt local history and stories that his dear friend was so well known for. Noyes’ intensive research, recollections and accounts would be accurate for history’s sake.

Christmas was the topic at hand, and he decided he would dedicate his column to the various celebrations across the community. The holiday began on Friday afternoon as the children opened their schoolrooms to public exhibitions fitting the holiday. The children would sing songs, have small plays, and generally celebrate the season with music and poetry. Santa Claus exchanged his reindeer and sleigh for horse and carriage. Each school was a stop on Santa’s rounds where he distributed confections and fruit to all the children.

The children also had gifts to present, and in the Eliot school, Miss Capen and Miss Sumner were given thoughtful little gifts — perhaps a silk handkerchief or a small, ivory-handled fan purchased in one of the many shops along Washington Street. Teachers, in turn, exchanged smiles knowing that the holiday would bring a welcomed break from the routine of the winter lessons.

It was that handwritten poem by James Dunbar that reminded Noyes of the joy and spirit of Christmas: “I have come, little friends, I have come at your call, A right Merry Christmas, man woman and child. I have just left the top of Blue Hill you must know, where I spied you all out, peering over the snow. I spied out the roof with my double lens glass. I could see through the windows each laddie and lass. I have popguns and whistles and tops for the boys, I have knickknacks and notions and holiday toys. I go my rounds over mountain and hill; no stockings I find which I do not well fill. Three cheers, Mr. Draper, three cheers for this day! Distribute these presents, begin right away!”

At each church there were festivities and celebration. At the “old church” at Canton Corner the organist began services with Mozart’s Gloria, and the choir rose to meet the drone of the pipes with “Exulting Angels.” The heavy fragrance of evergreen and mountain laurel filled the air, and Noyes was enchanted by a large basket of scarlet geraniums that he described as blazing like “the star” itself before the altar.

The large Roman Catholic Church on Washington Street was overfilled to capacity. This was the sixth mass of the day, and Noyes felt the spirit of the season overwhelm the wooden building. This denomination had grown steadily from five men working for Joseph Warren Revere in the 1830s to now the largest part of the community. These were the Irish: the workers, immigrants, and the poor. Yet their church steeple dominated the skyline as if reaching for heaven itself. As poor as these working families were, they were extremely devout and attentive to their spiritual needs. Noyes peeked inside the double doors and was met with the heavy smell of wet wool mixed with pine boughs. The inside of this church was magnificent and ablaze with light.

Interior view of St. John the Evangelist Church in 1912.
(Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

Catholics had been in Canton since 1814, regular masses had been said here since 1831 at least once a month and sometimes even more often. In short, this was a significant foothold in a largely Protestant town. Noyes wondered if it would continue to grow and how it might change to accommodate this growing movement in Canton.

Father Flatley was the head of the Catholics in Canton, and he had been in Canton before there was even a parish here. Flatley’s early ministrations were in a small church, almost a barn, on what would become known as Chapel Hill. In 1850 the small building served as the Church of St. Mary. Noyes marveled at how far the ministry had developed in 26 years. There were hundreds of Catholic families in Canton, and they had their own cemetery at Canton Corner, one of the earliest in the state. In fact, by 1861, they were an independent parish with a second mission in Stoughton.

In a few short years, Father Flatley was able to raise enough money, more than $4,000, to buy land and build an impressive wooden church with enough lumber left over for a small chapel in the adjoining town of Sharon. Noyes looked up in wonder at the high tapering tower; inside the church there were magnificent frescoes of archangels on bended knee. Valuable candelabras blazed on the altar, and a second altar was dedicated to the Sacred Heart. In the center rear wall of the church were three enormous stained glass windows that flooded the church with light. The Blessed Virgin Mary and St. John the Evangelist in superb details watched over the entire congregation as they sang their Christmas hymns.

An early 20th century Christmas Card from
L.L. Billings, Canton, MA. (Courtesy
of the Canton Historical Society)

As Noyes turned to walk back toward Washington Street, he walked down an avenue of pine trees, laden with snow, and he could hear the brogues of the families singing clear and loud in the early evening services. Over $600 was raised that year as a Christmas offering by these worshippers.

Noyes never imagined that St. John’s wooden church would one day be replaced with a modern, steel and brick building after nearly 100 years of service to Canton’s Roman Catholics. The old Unitarian Church at Canton Corner has stood for over 187 years and the echoes of Christmas’ past still resound from the pulpit.

The thoughts and prayers of Christmas were felt throughout the Canton of 1887. The focus on simple gifts, fellowship of neighbors, and Christian charity were well understood. Among Noyes’ final thoughts in that column were dedicated toward “useful and beautiful gifts that love and friendship bestowed upon himself.” Canton is as it was over a hundred years ago — a town of love and friendship.


This story ran in the Canton Citizen on December 23, 2010.

Looking North

Looking North

While writing the upcoming book that features early views and postcards from Canton, I came upon plenty of great material that just could not fit into the space provided. And so the blog is a perfect place to share these images and build upon some great material that would otherwise still be in obscure places. 

This is a glass plate negative that is in the collection of the Canton Historical Society. It is amazing to search the basement cabinets and find negatives that have not been seen in over 100 years. In this case, there was a dusty box, heavy with dirt and placed in a lead lined draw - the boxes contain the fruits of the Kanton Kamera Klub (KKK) and the photography is at times beautiful, poignant, and plain. The glass plates are fragile, quite old, and remarkable in their clarity and detail. Modern scanning equipment does away with the need for a darkroom and enlarger as well as chemicals and a printing process. The result is immediately gratifying and always with a sense of "wow".  

The photo was taken after 1897 and the photographer is standing just to the front of Memorial Hall on Washington Street looking north. The scene is wonderfully familiar because the Trinity Episcopal Church (now Schlossberg-Solomon) is a great focal point. This photo was taken the around the same year the church was built at a cost of $5000.00. There is a wonderful story about the bell that hung in this belfry. In 1906 the Revere & Sons Company began to dissolve the property on Revere Street. During the Civil War the Union Army would confiscate cannons, armaments, and bells to be shipped north and into the hands of the Revere Company in Canton to be melted down and recast into cannons for the war effort. A bell that had been cast in 1856 was confiscated during in New Orleans and shipped with other heavy scrap to Canton. The peal and ring of this bell was so beautiful that it was saved by the Revere Family (no stranger to bells) and used on the property. Edward H.R. Revere donated this bell to the Trinity Episcopal Church in 1906.  By 1969 the church had outgrown it's small building and a new home was established at the foot of the Blue Hill. The bell was moved to bell tower and continues to ring out as it has for more than 150 years in four locations. 

Another observation in this photograph is the Blue Hill Street Railway BHSR tracks that run through right side of the frame. The tracks actually help date the photo. The mystery is that clearly written on the paper sleeve that protects the glass plate is 1897 - but I do not think this is entirely accurate given that the BHSR was not chartered until 1899. There are a few other glass plate negatives that were taken at this same point and on the same day, so more research is in order. This is, however, a wonderful glimpse looking at Washington Street as an unpaved dirt road that hints at a future Canton.

The Congregational Church

The Congregational Church 

When you look at this picture, it will be almost impossible to place this location today. Both the building in the foreground and the church in the background are long gone. The snapshot was taken in April, 1969 and the photographer is standing on Washington Street. The corner is at the intersection of Neponset Street where the small convenience store is now. 

The church is the Congregational Church and the classic structure was dedicated in 1860. The total cost was $6895.00 and in a large part the families of the community donated generously. Built by John Ellis Seavey whose family has a long and illustrious connection with Canton. 

Of interest is the fact that the interiors, pews and pulpit along with the top of the steeple  were all constructed by one man; Hugh MacPherson. According to the stories, MacPherson was simply visiting the town of Canton when the first loads of lumber arrived to build the church. A devout Baptist, MacPherson nevertheless assisted and soon became a deacon of the very church he helped to build. Thus is the power of transformation. 

As for our friend Hugh MacPherson, I have seen a series of photographs taken at Revere & Sons Copper Yard after they moved from Canton and the watchman was named McPherson - which is spelled a bit differently but it is believed to be the same person.  The photo to the left shows McPherson with his dog. A query to Jim Roache yields great additional information. Roache found the death record for Hugh MacPherson indicating that he died on January 22, 1924 and was born in Glascow, Scotland in 1836. In fact, in 1868 there are only two MacPhersons living in Canton; Hugh and David. Hugh lived on Church Street - around the corner from the new Congregational Church. David MacPherson seems very well off being taxed for 8 horses and nine carriages, but living at home. My sense is that it is likely that David was John's brother and lived here in Canton when John came to visit in 1860. David enlisted in the 24th Mass at age 21 (1861) as a Drummer, Appointed Pricipal Musician May 1863, re-enlisted Jan. 1864 and was discharged Jan. 1866. David was also born in Glasgow, Scotland (1844) but gave his place of residence when he enlisted as South Reading. 

But I digress, and now back to our church. There are a few vestiges of the original church as reminders to Canton. The organ was donated in 1958 by Mildred Morse Allen and is still in use today at the new church on Washington Street. Also, the four sides of the clock are still in town - and the clock itself and one face is proudly keeping time atop Memorial Hall. As you walk in the Canton Historical Society, immediately on your right is another clock face from the steeple.

In 1961 the church was renamed the United Church of Christ. After 103 years the church needed to be replaced. Largely the congregation had outgrown the church and families needed more space for programs and fellowship. By 1963 a new church was opened near St. Mary's Cemetery on Washington Street and the congregation moved to their new home. The church property was sold to the Mobil Oil Corporation in 1969 for $50,000 and was soon demolished. The parking lot on Neponset behind the convenience store is all that is left of the property. As is often the case, these are ghost images from another time, but in our place that still have bits and pieces connected to our town today.  (photo credit: Kelleher Collection, Canton Public Library)

The Comet at Canton Junction

The Comet at Canton Junction

The railroad has always been a major connecting point for the Town of Canton. It all began in 1834 when Joseph Warren Revere, the son of Paul Revere was a director on the fledgling Boston & Providence Railroad. Several routes were laid out for the connection between Boston and Providence, Rhode Island, but the one that won out was a line that would run directly through the property owned by Paul Revere & Sons Copper Rolling Mill.

Building the railroad meant building over a 70 foot span of the Neponset River. To do this would require building a bridge, and so the Canton Viaduct was created. The engineering firm of Dodd & Baldwin was enlisted to design a granite structure that would stand the weight of engines and the test of time. Indeed, this had been done at a time with no heavy equipment and with the labor of Irish immigrants.  What stands today, still in use, is the Canton Viaduct. The structure is on the National Register of Historic Places and is an engineering landmark.  

The film clip features a rare view of The Comet as it arrives at Canton Junction.  The Comet was built in 1935 for the New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad by the Goodyear Zeppelin Company. It was initially placed into service between Boston, Massachusetts and Providence, Rhode Island on a 44-minute schedule; later, intermediate stops were added at Back Bay, Boston and Pawtucket/Central Falls, RI on an advertised "44 miles in 44 minutes" schedule. It ran 5 daily round trips on weekdays, and was often used for weekend excursion trips. This service lasted until the beginning of World War II.  The train was scrapped in 1951. 

While this is a black & white film, the Comet was brightly whorled with a blue and gray enamel paint job. The front end had a futuristic bullet shape and this was a formidable looking train.

Also, as a bonus are a few shots of the Canton Viaduct which made the rail lines through Canton possible.  Rail fans will undoubtedly have much to say on this subject, so please feel free to post your comments on the history of this rail line. In 2010 the Viaduct will celebrate 175 years of service, I am sure we will find many people that will be willing to support the demisemiseptcentennial. 

Neponset Woolen Mills

Neponset Woolen Mills

The new complex known as River Village on Walpole Street at Neponset is one of our towns newest architectural landmarks. The focus is an impressive tower and stone lobby that serves as a grand entrance. Few people may know that this is the site of an original tower that served to call the beginning and end of the day to thousands of industrial workers for over 150 years. This is also the site of many failed ventures and a handful of businesses that thrived on the western shore of the Neponset.

Long before condominiums were the rage, a small group of businessmen recognized the importance of the attraction of the Neponset River. In 1802 James Beaumont, Able Fisher, and Lemuel Bailey formed James Beaumont & Co. to spin cotton into candlewicks and fibers for cloth. By 1824 (before the Viaduct was built) another group of investors contracted for the water privileges  to the Neponset River from none other than Joseph Warren Revere. The men built a large stone factory along what is now known as Walpole Street and the name of the company became the Boston Manufacturing Company. The area quickly built up around the massive stone factory and included boarding houses, a school and even medical facilities. In three years the area prospered and great growth led to the construction of a dirt raod across the Fowl Meadows to support shipments to Boston. Unfortunately the business failed in 1827. 

Soon after the failure the Neponset Woolen Company set up shop under the directorship of Harrison Gray Otis the prominent Boston businessman, lawyer, and politician and arguably the most important member of the Federalist Party. This venture also failed and by 1837 the site was abandoned. Over the next 170 years many factories operated on this site including a bleachery, another cotton factory, wool and cotton for caskets, and a plastic and adhesives factory. 

In 2005 a local developer purchased the site and gained demolition approval from the Town's local Historical Commission. In homage to the thousands of men and women who worked on this site for over 200 years, the Commission asked the developer to salvage some of the stone and to build a replica of the tower. The original tower and bell was likely built during the 1800's and around the turn of the 20th Century it had been rebuilt. By 1930 the tower became unsafe and was removed. As we watch the economy, we watch to see if this will be a successful venture for the New River Village, LLC - and not a repeat of failed ventures.

The tower we pass today is a connection to our past through a new use for dozens of new families. Kudos to the Canton Historical Commission for suggesting the tower to Shesky Architects who have made this the centerpiece of this project.