[p. 75]
The West End schoolhouse.
THE month of April, 1829, was the time when the first West Medford schoolhouse was built—the humble predecessor of the
Brooks schoolhouses—of which name there have been three.
Frederic Kendall was its builder.
In constructing it, he deserved commendation for the despatch with which he performed his work, as did also the committee who had the work in charge and employed him.
They were
John Angier, Jonathan Brooks, and
Noah Johnson, and were authorized by the town in the March meeting of that year.
The selectmen were equally prompt in paying
Mr. Kendall for his work, as on May 10 they ordered the treasurer so to do. Three hundred and eighty-five dollars paid the bill, and twenty dollars more was received by
Mr. Brooks for the land.
This was on the southwesterly side of Woburn street, in the corner of the
Jonathan Brooks estate, adjoining
John Bishop's land, where
F. A. Oxnard now resides, and was nearly opposite the
Sarah Fuller Home.
It was then deemed a central location for the
West End, which then included the southerly edge of the present town of
Winchester, once set off from
Charlestown to
Medford, and known as
Symmes' Corner.
Later, there was a school maintained in a dwelling house in that locality.
The lot was irregular in shape, and so small that the building must have been placed with its side toward the road.
Somewhere near by, or on the land, there was a well which
John Howe in the following September was paid for cleansing.
Within three years from its erection, after much discussion in town meeting,
Nathan Adams, Nathan Wait and
Noah Johnson attended to its removal to the town's land on Canal lane, near the
Medford Almshouse (which was built in 1812), and nearer to
Capt. Joseph Wyatt's house on High street. Nearby was
[p. 76] the
Whitmore Brook, and across High street was a ‘spreading chestnut tree,’ in whose shade was the village blacksmith shop.
Nearby, also, was a lordly elm; while up the lane that crossed the brook, were poplars that are monarchs now.
In its new location, with its entrance toward the lane and brook, it stood for twenty years, and was the
Hall of Wisdom toward which the youth of the
West End turned their steps, until their thirst for knowledge outgrew its capacities and sought other sources.
As nearly as can be learned, it was 18×24 feet in size; a partition some six feet from the front end, with a door in the middle, made on the right a bin for wood, and on the left a space for the hanging of the children's wraps.
This left a square room about nine feet high, with two windows in each of the three exterior walls.
These were well up from the floor, of small panes, and secured outside with shutters.
The teacher's desk was at the right of the entrance, and at the left was a cast iron box stove with a door in one end, into which sizable sticks of wood could be fed.
The scholars' seats were wooden benches, and the desks were of the most primitive kind, made on the spot and firmly fastened to the floor.
In process of time these were hand carved in original and quaint design, not furnished by the teachers, however.
The interior was plastered from the window sill upward, and was
once white, while the exterior
may have had a coat of red paint or possibly none at all—the chances in favor of the latter.
It had been nearly four years in its new location when one June day the first railway train passed by on its way to
Boston.
We may imagine the curiosity and excitement among the children.
Let us trust that the schoolma'am was kind and allowed them to look out and see the novel sight; quite likely she did so herself.
In 1849 the school committee recommended that this schoolhouse be thoroughly rerepaired and painted; and added ‘that on account of
[p. 77] the condition of this schoolhouse, and the irregular attendance of several of the scholars, this school cannot be expected to appear in a good state.’
There were then ‘thirty scholars, twenty-three at the examination; twenty average attendance.’
In 1851 the town began the erection of a more modern school building, upon the western slope of ‘
Mystic Mount.’
The citizens of West Medford assisting by their contributions, the result was a larger and two-storied structure with some pretension to architectural style.
While this was building, late in the afternoon of August 22, a destructive tornado or cyclone swept through a portion of the village, wrecking everything in its track.
The old schoolhouse did not escape, but was completely destroyed and its floor, with the seats still fastened to it, was found upside down across
Whitmore Brook.
In its hasty flight it encountered a large horse chestnut tree.
‘Knowledge is power’; the tree was no match for the schoolhouse in the general shake — up of that fateful time, and was cut completely off. No scholars or teacher were injured, as it was vacation time, but school was to have begun three days later.
In 1846
Miss Mary Gleason was the teacher, at an annual salary of $109.50. She still resides in old
Medford, and is now known as
Mrs. Otis Waterman; with her the writer had a pleasant interview recently.
She at once recognized the scene of her early labors in the cause of education, when shown the original picture from which our illustration is copied.
This, though not made on the spot by ‘our special artist’ in years agone, was made by a member of the Historical Society (himself a later
Brooks school boy), as the result of information and details gathered from old residents and schoolboys of the '40s, by the writer.
It has found a place in the library of the
Brooks school of today in company with those of its successors.
The four are a commentary on the growth of the western section of
Medford, and the progress made along educational lines.
