history

Jack Maclean autographing a copy of his first book, “Lincoln Libraries 1798-1984” in the 1980s.

Town Historian Jack MacLean was recently honored with a proclamation of appreciation by the Select Board after he received the Star Award for “long-term volunteer contributions to public history” from the Massachusetts History Alliance.

MacLean, who was born and raised in Lincoln, began putting more time into researching the town’s history in the early 1980s and eventually became “the authoritative resource for any and all of the many inquiries directed his way about the town’s storied past,” according to the proclamation, which was based on a nomination submitted by the Lincoln Town Archives. He became the official town historian in 2016 and is author of A Rich Harvest: The History, Buildings, and People of Lincoln, Massachusetts.

MacLean giving a talk in Bemis Hall in 2015.

“For almost 40 years, Jack has willingly shared his encyclopedic knowledge of, and thoughtful insights about, local history with all who seek to know and understand,” the documents reads. “Jack reminds us that, every day, the legacy of the past shapes the town we currently inhabit, and can help inform our choices about the kind of community we want to leave to future generations.”

By Donald Hafner

When Lincoln formed its first church in 1746, the hymn singing at Sunday services must have been dreadful.

One of the deacons would stand before the congregation and read a line or two of the psalm that had been selected for the day. The parishioners would sing the one or two lines and then stop. The deacon would read the next lines, and the congregation would again sing those and stop. There were only a few hymn melodies used at the time, and they were not attached to specific psalms. The deacon might propose his favorite melody, but since few parishioners did any singing at all, except at church, we can imagine the “tune” sung by many of them was an off-key warble or a droning monotone.

In May 1770, some parishioners had a better idea. They proposed that rows of seats to the front of the church be reserved for “those persons who have taken pains to acquire some good degree of understanding of the rules of singing.” This was a radical proposal, because seating at the front of the church had always been assigned according to the wealth of the family, not their singing ability. Nonetheless, the proposal was adopted. The following March, town meeting approved a list of 25 men and 15 women who had proved their skill in “the rules of singing” and were granted this privileged seating. Many were from the town’s prominent families, but a few were from the poorest.

This change did not sit well with some parishioners. In town meeting on May 17, 1771, a few disgruntled sorts proposed that the singers should be ousted from their seats at the front, and if they wanted to sit together, they should be sent to the back corners of the building.

The battle was joined, and there followed a rare event in Lincoln’s history. Up to this point, town meeting records were terse and bland. The town clerk wrote down each proposed warrant and whether the vote was “in the affirmative” or the negative. No record at all of the points of debate or the tally of votes, yea and nay. But not this time.

In clear handwriting, the clerk recorded: “Voted on the fourth article that it be dismissed with the contempt it deserves.” Take that, you disgruntled sorts!

For a more complete history of hymn singing in Lincoln, the Reverend Charles M. Styron’s The First Parish in Lincoln: History of the Church 1747-1942 is available in the Library.

“Lincoln’s History” is an occasional column by members of the Lincoln Historical Society.

By Sara Mattes

(Editor’s note: The Lincoln Historical Society used this raging controversy as its theme for this year’s July 4 parade float — see the first picture in this photo gallery.)

In Lincoln’s earliest history, the road was known simply as Middle County Road. Lincoln lore has it that the name “Trapelo Road” derived from “traps below,” referring to the beaver traps that were set along the Beaver Brook in northeast Waltham. But that is probably myth, and a dive into archives offers an alternate explanation.

According to noted Waltham historian Edmund Sanderson, author of Waltham as a Precinct of Watertown and as a Town, the road from Beaver Brook to the Lincoln border was known for its steep hills. It was the custom to have horses stationed at the foot of such hills that could be temporarily hooked up to assist wagons with heavy loads. The word “trapelo” in Italian means “to drag by hooks or by extra horses,” so this practice in Italy is called “going trapelo.”

So, while some in Lincoln pronounce it “TRAPelo,” in light of the Italian derivation of the word, the proper pronunciation would be “TraPELo.” All the other towns through which Trapelo runs pronounce it “TraPELo.” Lincoln remains the outlier.

(This will be the first of several pieces on the development of Lincoln’s road system. We are very indebted to Kerry Glass’s important work on the evolution of Lincoln roads from its beginnings, using original deeds and maps. This work, “Tracing the History of Lincoln Ways,” will soon be available on line through Lincoln Archives and the Lincoln Historical Society.)

“Lincoln’s History” is an occasional column by members of the Lincoln Historical Society.

By Donald Hafner

During the early 1800s, Lincoln was pretty much a Whig town. Time after time, it voted overwhelmingly for the Whigs’ presidential candidate, who then lost to the candidate of the Jacksonian Democratic party. But the election of 1848 was different.

The Whig party had been ambivalent about whether slavery should be allowed in the new territories of the southwest acquired during the Mexican-American War. That sparked the rise of a new Free Soil party, adamantly opposed to the extension of slavery. In the 1848 election, Lincoln’s voters split with 52 votes for the Whig Zachary Taylor and 50 votes for Martin Van Buren of the Free Soil Party.

The town’s political division carried over to town meeting in March 1849. It took seven ballots to choose the three selectmen, and then one of those chosen — Abel Wheeler — refused to serve. Two more ballots were needed before Dr. Henry Chapin was elected to fill that spot. Two days later, Dr. Chapin resigned. Six more ballots were needed before William Wheeler was elected and agreed to serve. The polarized politics had delayed the election of other minor town officers, and it was days before a town treasurer was finally selected. 

James L. Chapin, who attended the seemingly endless meetings, lamented the political paralysis: “We are a strange set of people here in Lincoln — always quarreling about something. We have two parties, and if one of them attempts to do anything, the other is sure to oppose them to the last.”

Charles Frances Adams was Vice President on the Free Soil ticket in 1848 with Martin Van Buren. His son was later a resident of Lincoln.

In the next two presidential elections, Lincoln voters would again side overwhelmingly with the (losing) Whig candidate. Finally, in 1860, Lincoln voted in a landslide for a winning presidential candidate — a rough-hewn man from Illinois named Abraham Lincoln.

For more on Lincoln’s politics in the era before the Civil War, see Jack MacLean’s A Rich Harvest, available from the Lincoln Historical Society.

“Lincoln’s History” is an occasional column by members of the Lincoln Historical Society.

By Donald Hafner

Crows can be a nuisance for farmers. They raid grain fields and orchards in flocks numbering in the hundreds, if not thousands. Apparently the patience of Lincoln’s farmers ran out in March 1791, when a warrant at Town Meeting proposed “a bounty to the inhabitants of the town to encourage and bring forward the destruction of those mischievous birds called the black bird and the crow.” Residents “voted that there shall be the sum of six pence for each crow that is feathered and three pence for each young crow not feathered given as a bounty.” 

At some point, the bounty was doubled to one shilling, enough at the time to buy two pounds of salt pork. Plus, the bounty hunter only had to bring in the crow heads; he could keep the rest of the bird, and crow was said to taste as good as quail. Even the feathers were worth having, according to Abigail Adams, who preferred writing with a crow quill: “It is much smaller than a goose quill, and I can write much better with it.” 

“Two Crows in Snow” by Ito Sozan (1884-1920)

Despite the reward offered by the town, not many bounties were paid. By 1799, the treasurer’s records showed only eight payments, for what may have been no more than a dozen or so crows. This would not have surprised the editor of The Boston Gazette, who reminded his readers in 1789 of John Gay’s witty remark: “To shoot at crows is powder flung away.”

Crows are among the most intelligent of birds, with excellent memories and eyesight. They readily learn where and when food can be found, and danger avoided. ’Tis said they can distinguish between one person and another and remember those who pose a threat, and they can pass that warning on to others — which may explain why the eight men of Lincoln who collected bounties did so only once.  

“A murther of crowes” first appears as a fanciful term for a flock of crows back in 15th-century England. The illusion dies hard that the problem of crows can be solved with gunpowder and birdshot. In the 1930s, the state of Wisconsin tried to entice the country folk into shooting more crows by touting “black partridges” as delicious food. That didn’t work either. The murder of crows was no answer to a murder of crows.

“Lincoln’s History” is an occasional column by members of the Lincoln Historical Society.

Following are events scheduled in Minute Man National Historical Park (MMNHP) and other sites  to commemorate events surrounding Patriots Day.

Saturday, April 9

The Capture of Paul Revere: A Dramatic Narrative
MMNHP Visitors Center at 2:45 p.m. or Capture Site at 3 p.m.
March with the Lincoln Minute Men along Battle Road or meet at the capture site where Paul Revere’s ride ended in Lincoln. See Revere, Samuel Prescott, William Dawes, Mary Hartwell, Catharine Louisa Smith, and Major Mitchell tell the true story, despite poetic efforts by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to tell a different tale. Music and musket fire. For all ages.

Saturday, April 16

Battle Road: Civilian Evacuation & Battles
Evacuation scenario at the home of William and Catharine Louisa Smith, 9:30 a.m. – noon.
Battle reenactment at Parker’s Revenge, MMNHP, noon–1 p.m.
Battle of Tower Park, 1200 Massachusetts Ave., Lexington, 4 p.m.
Families prepare to evacuate their homes on April 19, 1775. Later, hundreds of British and Provincial soldiers recreate the running battle along the deadly stretch of road through Lincoln, from Elm Brook Hill to the Lexington border. Then both sides regroup to battle again at Tower Park in Lexington.

Sunday, April 17

Alarm & Muster
Lincoln Public Library lawn, 7 p.m.
A Lincoln resident during the Revolutionary War reminisces about the fateful early hours of April 19, 1775. Capt. William Smith arrives on horseback to alarm the citizens of Lincoln. Bells ring, drums roll, and families say anxious goodbyes, as the Lincoln Minute Men assemble for musket drill and firing, and receive their orders to march.

Monday, April 18

Dawn Tribute & March to the Concord Parade
Outside Bemis Hall, 6:45 a.m.; Concord parade, 9 a.m.
The Lincoln Minute Men salute the Patriots buried in the Old Meeting House Burying Ground as they emerge from the mists for roll call. Fifers play a lament and the muskets fire a volley. Then join the Minute Men on their walk to Concord along Sandy Pond Road (three miles) amid colonial music and musket fire. All ages welcome.

Sunday, April 24

Lincoln Salute: A Festival of Fife & Drum Music
Pierce Park, 1:30–3 p.m. (in case of rain, see the Parks and Rec website)
The Lincoln Minute Men host fife and drum groups from far and wide in a musical performance for your enjoyment. Bring your picnic basket and lawn chairs for rousing entertainment.

Old Burying Ground Tribute
Pierce House, 3 p.m.
March with the Lincoln Minute Men and British Regulars from Pierce House to the Old Burying Ground on Lexington Road to honor the Patriot dead and the five British soldiers killed in Lincoln along the Battle Road. Mary Hartwell and Catharine Louisa Smith tell their stories of burying British soldiers, an enslaved soldier tells how he gained his freedom, and a British mother laments the loss of her son. Ceremonies include music and musket salutes.

After the story headlined “Did you know…” who the first inhabitants of Lincoln were? story was published on December 9, town historian Jack MacLean offered this additional information abut the map that was included:

The map here shows Massachuset territories extending further north than was the case at the time of contact. Along the coast, lands associated with the Pawtucket Confederation extended down to Charlestown, which was purchased from Pawtucket leaders. Boston (Shawmut) was associated with the Massachuset, with the Charles River providing a divide. Watertown and Cambridge south of the river were also Massachuset. However, Lincoln’s primary parent community of Concord was purchased from local leaders (Tahattawan) and from Squaw Sachem, along with her second husband, who lived at Mistick (Medford). Squaw Sachem had succeeded her first husband (Nanepashemet) as the leader of the Pawtucket Confederation. While Concord was formally seen as being under Squaw Sachem and the Pawtucket Confederation, the close proximity of the two “tribal” groups in this area indeed suggests much fluidity and interconnectedness.

David, it should be noted, is the coauthor with his mother of The First Peoples of the Northeast.

By David P. Braun

When people ask, “who were the first inhabitants of Lincoln,” they often mean, “what tribe lived here?” The short answer is, probably Massachuset.

But as best we can tell, most Native American “tribes” were somewhat fluid. They did not have rigid boundaries or a concept of land as property in the way that the European invaders did. With some exceptions, they were more like loose confederacies of local communities that sometimes acted together as larger groups. They had territories based upon their traditional uses of the landscape, their shared history, and their shared history of alliances and disputes with neighboring groups. They spoke related, mutually intelligible Algonquian languages and were descendants of Algonquian-speaking communities that had lived and evolved together for thousands of years.

The exact tribes known from the historic record may not have had that much antiquity. Social relationships and identities likely evolved over those thousands of years, as lifeways changed and as populations grew and shifted over time. But the incorporation of agriculture into their lifeways starting around 1000 A.D. likely brought considerable changes. Populations grew faster, and areas with good soils for farming would have become valuable resources.

Occasionally, where the edges of tribal territories met or overlapped, the communities would have worked out rules for sharing. There is a lake in Webster, Massachusetts, famously named (or at least so recorded), as

“Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg”

If my memory serves, this native name is usually translated literally as something like “you fish on your side of the lake, we fish on our side of the lake, and nobody fishes in the middle.” However, Algonquian languages are very figurative. The local communities might have thought of the lake simply as “Border Treaty Lake.”

Places such as Lincoln, which is mostly upland terrain, may have been part of some native communities’ identities and hunting territories before Europeans arrived, but not the site of winter or even seasonal villages. That was not how the indigenous communities lived. Instead, the adjacent Sudbury/Concord/Merrimack River valley and its wetlands would have been far more important as dwelling places. The rivers were avenues of travel and sources of food, and the floodplains would have provided productive farmland near to their villages.

The arrival of the Europeans in the early 1600s and the fatal diseases they brought caused havoc, disrupting the indigenous peoples’ lives, locations, and connections with each other. Many communities became mixtures of local natives and refugees from neighboring areas that had suffered worse. And the written records we have of these communities post-date the start of that havoc. They do not necessarily record how the people lived beforehand. The historic records, biased though they may be (after all, who wrote them? Not the natives…), suggest that the natives did their best to maintain their sense of identity and their identification with their traditional home landscapes. But the European diseases killed their elders fast. As the native communities lost their elders (with their unwritten stores of history and traditional knowledge), they lost much of their collective cultural memories.

It is wrenching to think of the thousands of years of tradition and knowledge that were lost with the erasure of these communities.

For those who wish to read more, I recommend Charles Mann’s book, 1493: Uncovering the New World Columbus Created (2011). It is grim reading but also important and fascinating. Also valuable is Nathaniel Philbrick’s book, Mayflower (2006). This also is grim and specific to southeastern New England, but an excellent treatment of how the natives and early European settlers in the Massachusetts Bay area perceived and treated each other.

Addendum — After this story was published, town historian Jack MacLean offered this additional information abut the map:

The map here shows Massachuset territories extending further north than was the case at the time of contact. Along the coast, lands associated with the Pawtucket Confederation extended down to Charlestown, which was purchased from Pawtucket leaders. Boston (Shawmut) was associated with the Massachuset, with the Charles River providing a divide. Watertown and Cambridge south of the river were also Massachuset. However, Lincoln’s primary parent community of Concord was purchased from local leaders (Tahattawan) and from Squaw Sachem, along with her second husband, who lived at Mistick (Medford). Squaw Sachem had succeeded her first husband (Nanepashemet) as the leader of the Pawtucket Confederation. While Concord was formally seen as being under Squaw Sachem and the Pawtucket Confederation, the close proximity of the two “tribal” groups in this area indeed suggests much fluidity and interconnectedness.

David, it should be noted, is the coauthor with his mother of The First Peoples of the Northeast.

“Lincoln’s History” is an occasional column by members of the Lincoln Historical Society.

A new photo has been added to the photo gallery at the bottom of the December 8, 2021 story headlined “Archivist, family members unwrap a historic quilt.” The inadvertently omitted image shows a square hand-written by Joseph Flint.

The Lincoln Public Library archives contain all sorts of historical items, but not all of them are on paper — a quilt that was made for a woman before she sailed off to be a missionary recently came out of the vault to be admired and rewrapped.

The Flint family, which has lived in Lincoln since the 1600s, donated the quilt to the library some years ago. Three generations of Flints were on hand in the Tarbell Room when the quilt was removed from its box, carefully unfolded on the big table, and refolded with layers of acid-free tissue paper for posterity.

Overseeing the process was Virginia Rundell, Lincoln’s town archivist, who splits her part-time job between the library and working with materials including vital records (births, marriages and deaths) the Town Office Building. 

When 26-year-old Mary Susan Rice, an ancestor of the Flints, decided to travel to Persia in 1847 to pursue her missionary vocation, members of the Lincoln Ladies’ Missionary Sewing Circle (part of the First Parish Congregational Church) sewed individual squares for the quilt and added hand-written messages of inspiration and affection, many of which are still legible today. They did this knowing that it would serve as a cherished reminder of her Lincoln home for Rice, who quite possibly would never return, given the dangers of distant travel at the time.

The large quilt (109” x 96”) has an unusual structure, with cutouts at the two bottom corners to allow it to be laid flat on a four-poster bed. It was made of scraps of many types of material but only lightly quilted for “sentimental value rather than hard everyday use,” according to a 1998 article by Tracy Barron of the American Quilt Study Group.

Each of the 82 squares contains a personal note or Bible verse signed by Rice’s numerous friends, family and acquaintances, among them her mother, who penned a heartfelt inscription into the cloth:

Father to Thee
I yield the trust. O bless her with a love
Deeper and purer, stronger far than mine.
Shield her from sin, from sorrow and from pain.
But should thy wisdom deem affliction best,
Let love be mingled with the chastening.
With an unshrinking heart I give her, Lord, to Thee.
Thy will, not mine be done.

(A bit of research revealed that this was not an original composition by Rice’s mother; it appeared at least once before in print. It’s part of “Love’s Offering” published in The Mother’s Magazine in 1840.)

Rice was well qualified to teach at the Fiske Girls’ School in Oroomiah, Persia (now Rezaiyeh, Iran) — she had attended Mt. Holyoke Female Seminary (later Mt. Holyoke College), founded just 10 years before her departure by Mary Lyon, who also contributed a Biblical verse and wish on one of the quilt’s squares.

Rice did in fact return to Lincoln after 22 years in Persia, where she “helped implement progressive ideas about the roe of women in a society where women were not educated and considered second-class citizens,” Barron says. Some of her students even converted to Christianity in “Holyoke-style revivals.” She resumed living in Lincoln and attending Sewing Circle meetings until her death in 1903.

Mary Susan Rice was the sister of Caroline Rice Flint, the great-grandmother of Peggy Flint Weir and Ephraim Flint. Mary and Caroline grew up in the house that still stands at 7 Old Lexington Rd. When Mary returned from Persia, she lived with her sister and brother-in-law Ephraim Flint in the Flint homestead on Lexington Road, still home to three generations of Flints. The quilt was found by Margaret Flint Sr. in the attic of Bertha Chapin, whose mother also grew up in the Flint homestead, according to family members.

Preserving artifacts like the quilt are central to the work of archivists like Rundell. Along with local historians, they’re sometimes called on when older residents are downsizing and looking to dispose of old letters, photos, papers, records and other materials that may have been sitting in attics or basements for decades. Documents that are deemed historically significant are treated so the paper so won’t degrade any further. Sometimes books are unbound and later archivally rebound so they can be digitized, making them available online to researchers anywhere in the world. Much of this work in Lincoln is funded by annual town budget appropriations requested by the Community Preservation Committee (the money comes from property taxes and the state).

Another part of the job is making archival materials more “discoverable” using finding aids for the various collections pertaining to Lincoln buildings, families, events, organizations and photographs. “One of the big goals is to get people engaged with the archives,” Rundell said. “You don’t get this stuff and put it in a vault so it just sits there — you went people to use it.”

Click on an image below for a larger version and caption (photos by Alice Waugh).