May 1, 2024
When William S. Tilden (1830-1912) wrote his History of Medfield 1660-1886, he reported that Francis Hamant, one of Medfield’s original 13 settlers, was granted a house lot on South Street. Hamant had met the qualifications set out in Medfield founder Ralph Wheelock’s Agreement for would-be settlers that he was “honest, peacable, & free from scandall and erroneous opinnions.”
Tilden added, “The homestead has never been out of the possession of his descendants – and this is the only case of the kind among the first 13 settlers.”
Well over a century and a quarter later – more than 360 years after Francis built his first house – this stretch of continuous family ownership finally came to an end. In the 1980s, Daniels Hamant III built a house on the last remaining parcel of the original Hamant grant. His house is on South Street, at the downhill bend between Curve and Elm streets, and he sold that house about 10 years ago and moved to Florida.
Hamant Way, off Philip near South, is of course named for the family, though the name on the sign is misspelled with a double m. The large house in the background of the photo is the 1810 Hamant homestead. The original 1652 Francis Hamant house is long gone.
Growing up in Medfield in the 1950s, I knew the family well – Daniels Hamant Jr. and his wife Muriel, and their children Ann, Susie, and Daniels III, who was called Stoke as a boy. They were all very bright, entertaining personalities.
Susie was a brilliant free spirit – a frequent challenge for her more conservative parents – but she had an exceptional career as a physician. At one point she donated one of her own kidneys to a patient who needed a transplant! Here’s a link to the obit of this extraordinary woman.
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In addition to his history, Tilden compiled toward the end of the 19th century a series of short pieces which are bound together in a book called Anecdotes and Incidents – Medfield Life in the Olden Days.
The entire book is written in Tilden’s exceptionally beautiful and legible handwriting. Tilden authored most of the pieces himself, but some were written by Joseph Allen, one of the original incorporators of the Medfield Historical Society, and his brothers Nathaniel and James.
Here is a transcript of an article from that book, written by James Allen about his beloved teacher, Charles Hamant, who was born in 1812.
Charles Hamant
By James Allen
As I recall the long list of teachers, men and women, under whose influence I came through childhood and youth, from Miss Mary Johnson in Waltham in 1834, (a true kindergartener in spirit, though probably she had never heard of Froebel) to the gentleman who is the subject of my sketch, who also has probably never heard of “Pestalozzi” nor student “pedagogy,” as a modern science, I am inclined to rank Mr. Hamant, if not “facilis princeps,” at least among the first of Nature’s born teachers, with whom I came in contact during my minority; and I do this through the retrospect of a full half century spent as a professional teacher.
Of Mr. Hamant’s preparation for his work as teacher, I know little. It was certainly made through his own unaided efforts. He doubtless evolved his system and methods from his inner consciousness.
Like his brother, Mr. Walter Janes, he was a natural teacher and a phenomenal disciplinarian, and I have no doubt that what I shall say of the one would be equally true if said of the other.
First, in the arsenal of Mr. Hamant’s faculties or talents, I place his “common sense,” which if it be compared with that of a majority of those who essay to teach, must be termed “Uncommon sense.”
Secondly, I place the practical nature of his intellect in contradistinction to the theoretical; this led him to take his pupils in Arithmetic, for instance, through the actual problems that would surely confront them in life; such as the measuring of wood and peat and the weighing and paying for hay by the ton, of bricks by the thousands, and of lumber by the square foot; of calculating interest, of threshing out grain on percentage shares, and of apportioning taxes. No older pupil of Mr. Hamant’s will forget the pleasant fiction of a town, and its twenty-five or so taxpayers; landholders, bondholders, manufacturers etc., and the apportionment of their several taxes, – their schedules drawn out in black and red ink, in bold legible handwriting, worthy to be framed alongside the “Samplers” of their mothers and grandmothers.
Thirdly his ingenious preparation for examinations, falsely, so called, the invariable custom of the times, and more properly termed exhibitions, calculated to deceive the very elect of the School Committee, and bring joy to the hearts of the proud “parients.” As in “deaconing” packages of apples, pears, berries, etc., such was the custom of the times, that the conscientious packer stood no chance in the “Market of the world,” so at these “circus-examinations” Mr. Hamant knew what was expected by the community, and he knew “what was what,” and it must be confessed, he was too good natured and shrewd to seek to disappoint his audiences; amusing stores could be told of these performances, in which he yielded the palm to no other teach of the period.
Fourthly, his genial good nature, great love of fun, and fine appreciation of the ludicrous. These traits shown forth in his ingenious punishments for the infraction of rules: For whispering – a chip between the teeth; For playfulness, which was disorganizing, an hour’s work in picking up small bits of paper, one at a time, counting the same, and walking with each to the desk where stood to box to receive them. I never knew Mr. Hamant to inflict corporal punishment, though it would be strange if he did not, as that was almost universally practiced in those days.
I recall Mr. Hamant’s recognition of the Anti-Slavery reputation of our family, in a suggested or threatened punishment for whispering in my case, – with arched eye brows and dilated nostrils and a repressed smile, he approached me holding in his hand the anti-whispering chip, well moistened, which he had just removed from the generous lips of a large ebony negro – the suggestion was a sufficient antidote, as he intended it to be.
This school was on Walpole Plain. The boys sat on one side, the girls on the opposite; the two sides sloping down to the level space in the centre. For aggravated offences a boy was sometimes sent to sit with a girl on the opposite side, or vice versa; this punishment in those days was rather more dreaded I think than it would be at the present time. It was also before the era of steel pens, and Mr. Hamant was an expert in making a quill pen. Once I recall his standing over this burly negro, Augustus Green, (albeit he was very black) and allowing the whittlings from the quill to fall on to his wooly head – after which he sent the boy to comb out these bits of quill at my Aunt’s, Mrs. Leonard Plympton, who was by no means partial to the representative of the Negro race. All these and every act, whether of praise or censure were done in perfect good nature, and so as never to antagonize the public sentiment of the school.
This ability to get on with little or no corporal punishment while holding his pupils under almost perfect discipline, is the final characteristic I will mention.
As Fifthly. A mesmeric, hypnotic power not acquired, but inherent in the constitution of the man – by which a direct influence could be exerted over the minds of the pupils, their inclinations and actions. Again he possessed the power of mind -reading, by which the intentions of the pupils could be seen and known and either stimulated or checked or arrested as the case may be.
These occult powers, to which scientific names have been given mostly since Mr. Hamant’s day, were well developed in his organization. He was not conscious undoubtedly of his rich endowment, but it was all his own nevertheless, and its marvelous effects and results were to be seen.
Here was the secret of his remarkable power as a disciplinarian, and as a manager in the affairs of men. On the possession of these faculties I may say hinges the success or failure of teachers in my opinion, not only as disciplinarians, but as Educators.
Add now to Mr. Hamant’s rich endowment, a liberal education, and we may be sure he would have distinguished himself as an Educator at whatever period of the country’s history he might have lived.