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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 121 (search)
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 16., The Society's work. (search)
Meeting-house brook.
A few years ago we received a request from an elderly man, long absent from, but Medford born, that some one write for the Register the story of the Frenchman's mill.
He passed away soon after, and we know not where the mill he named was, unless it was that mentioned in Vol.
IV, p. 51, of the Register, and again by Mr. Woolley in his story of the brook of Medford, beside which was the Second Meeting-house.
His description revived an interest awakened by reading of the Bower in Brooks' History, and led to
A Midwinter Ramble.
The glorious sunshine of a recent winter morning was an allurement that decided the writer to take a woodland ramble that had been long deferred, and nine o'clock found him at High street, looking into the waters of Meeting-house brook.
So he said, Well, old brook, I've seen you many times before in your straight-jacket at High street, and in your serpentine wriggling ere you lost yourself in the river; but I'll make your acquai
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 22., A Rill of water-troughs. (search)
A Rill of water-troughs.
As a matter of history, be it noted that Medford has gone dry (this in 1914) in the matter of public watering places for horses.
Within the memory of our oldest people the principal highways passed through Meetinghouse, Gravelly and Whitmore brooks, as well as over their various bridges.
There horses and cattle could drink or the family carriage be washed.
Mr. Woolley has preserved a view of the first-named in his picture of the second meeting-house.
Time was when the town-pump was indispensable and its condition carefully noted by the fire engineers.
To such, a necessary adjunct was the old-time watering-trough, kept full by the laborious effort of each comer, though some thoughtless ones did not fill it. After Spot pond water was introduced, the old troughs disappeared and drinking fountains of various patterns were installed.
In the square, and at West Medford, a big iron vase with a lamp-post rising from its center made an ornamental feature,
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 25., Our Centennial number (search)
Our Centennial number
Twenty-five years ago in the heyday of its youth and the sunshine of popular favor our Historical Society issued its first Register.
This is the one hundredth number.
It has changed its dress but once, and that of necessity, but it still wears the same trimming, not woolen, but designed by Woolley at its outset.
On the last cover page the Society's seal is crowded somewhat by an automobile,—almost unknown in ‘96,— but that has been the fate of many a pedestrian.
This page makes 2594, exclusive of covers and title pages, index and advertisements, the whole forming a substantial and reliable addition to the literature of Medford.
This last because in all the quarter century it has aimed to deal exclusively with Medford matters and those closely related thereto.
During that time, Medford has trebled in population and changed in many ways,—some not for the better.
Yet there is hope, in a good citizenship and a 100 per cent Americanism.
Another th
The Daily Dispatch: September 12, 1862., [Electronic resource], The dash into Williamsburg . (search)
Correction.
--One of our city contemporaries, on day before yesterday, copied a notice from the Baltimore American, stating that John D. McCabe and wife, refugee from Richmond, had reported to Provost-Marshal Woolley, in Baltimore, taken the oath, and were released.
The individual referred to is named James D. McCabe a son of the Rev. James D. McCabe, how, and for several years past a resident of Maryland.
We call attention to the takes above, learning that persons not acquainted with our esteemed friend and fellow-citizen, the Rev. John C. McCabe, D. D., might confound his name with that of the person reported in the American. The South has no son more devoted to her interests than the Rev. John C. McCabe, nor one who has made more sacrifices, and that cheerfully to the good cause than he, whether personal or pecuniary.