The rum of
Medford though no longer made bids fair to be everlasting—at least the memory of its production.
A Vermont town history published only three years ago devotes some space to the building of the local meetinghouse, and to the contract for the framing and raising of the same for ‘180 in wheat’ at the current price; and closes with these words.
Ten gallons of rum to be allowed exclusive of above price.
It also records the ‘balancing of Zibe Tute on his head at the end of the ridgepole, swallowing the contents of his flask and descending head downwards to the ground.’
Next follows the
Medford myth we refer to.
note .—Ten gallons of rum for building a meetinghouse in St. Johnsbury may be considered a modest allowance; for a similar job in Medford it took five barrels of rum, one barrel of good brown sugar, a case of lemons and two loaves of white sugar.
[p. 85]
Medford we infer, could afford to be liberal with her own peculiar product.
While we have no doubt that the ‘peculiar product’ was here used ‘to make the tackle run smoothly’ on that occasion, we feel that the historian of that
Vermont town owes it to
Medford to furnish ‘documentary evidence’ of the correctness of his statement.
In writing of the raising of the meeting-house in
Medford (July 26 to 27, 1769) our historian says:
‘there was no one hurt.’
Our fathers did not put themselves into that condition that invites catastrophies.
and quotes from authentic record of
another town (four years later) practically the above invoice, and adds,
A natural consequence followed—two-thirds of the frame fell: many were hurt, and some fatally.
We have searched in vain for authentic record to verify the
Vermont historian's fling at old
Medford, published by his town.
We commend a
more careful reading of our own historian's
comment. Until thus verified, we must consider it another
Medford myth.
Since the above was written we have received from the author alluded to the following:—
I could never have suspected that my quotation from the Boston Transcript would be construed to ‘reflect upon the good people of Medford.’
I was emphasizing the contrast between ‘the good old times’ of that period, and the sober new times of today when distilleries are made into garages.
The above was accompanied by the more than column article, from which this rum, lemon and sugar quotation was taken.
In that article,
Beverly,
Danvers,
Dunstable,
Medford,
Northampton,
Pittsfield and
Windsor are alluded to under the title of ‘The Puritanic Present,’ and the writer thereof credited practically the whole to
Bonfort's Wine and Spirit Circular. As the
Vermont historian gives his quotation from the
Transcript and not
[p. 86] from
Mr. Brooks, we are led to infer that he may not have read the latter.
But evidently some other had, and none too carefully, and as ‘her own peculiar product’ was famous,
Medford got all that was coming to her. We have in years past heard people in the cars of northern trains stopping at West Medford, at the conductor's call of ‘
Medford—West Medford,’ remark, ‘This is where they make
Medford rum, isn't it?’
But until it can be verified by credible evidence that such fatality as is named really occurred at the raising of
Medford's meeting-house, we must consider the same, and
Wine and Spirit inspiration of the
Transcript article, as added to our list of
Medford myths.
