to live without an able ministry as for a smith to work his iron without a fire.
We may not believe, however, that because for sixty-five years there was no meeting-house in Medford that there was no worship, any more than we may think that no town government existed because of the same reason.
The dwelling of some freeholder, or perhaps his barn, or the tavern, accommodated the town meeting, and at various times the ministers preached the word of God in the same places.
The death of Mr. Cradock, and the subsequent closing of his business interests, must have had a discouraging effect on the Mistick plantation, called Meadford, and for many years it was a scattered village, having only a few over thirty tax payers on real estate when the first steps were taken toward erecting a meeting-house.
It may be appropriate here to note that the structure was just what its name implied—a house for the town's people to meet in, not only for worship, but for the transaction of the town's
ve and war.
Charlestown at the time of the ever memorable battle was compactly built between Breed's Hill, where the monument now stands, and Charles River, with a comparatively small number of houses northward along the road now called Main street. The buildings destroyed at this time were probably near the site of the Edes' mansion, now noted as the birthplace of Prof. Morse of telegraph fame.
Between foes and friends, the old town named for King Charles who granted the charter to Matthew Cradock's Company, was well nigh obliterated.
Its territory once entirely surrounded that of Medford, and embraced that of Burlington, Wilmington, Woburn, Winchester, Somerville and parts of Arlington, Medford, and Malden.
Its corporate existence became finally absorbed in that of Boston in 1874.
The three or four houses that Major Knowlton left could have afforded but little shelter to the British troops whom editor or printer Hall styled ministerial butchers.
The result of the action wa