By Barbara Barker
On these warm days in July old folks who are native to Hanover reminisce about swimming in the old swimming hole, instead of today’s back yard pool. The favorite spot for the boys in the Four Corners area was near the junction of the Third Herring Brook and the North River in the back part of Sylvester’s field off Washington St. Here, just below where the old Rainbow Bridge spanned the brook, the boys, out from under their elders sight, would jump in “au natural”.
Charlie Gleason remembered those happy days of his youth in Vermont when he defied his parents by taking a dip against parental rule of early swimming. When he reached home he was asked if he had been swimming. “No”, came the reply. “Then how come your shirt is on wrong side out?” Parents have always been wise.
The Third Herring Brook is the first tributary of the North River below the bridge which crossed on Washington St. at the Pembroke line. It forms the boundary line between Norwell and Hanover and winds through the woods, rising in Valley Swamp near Hingham. Alewives oringinally ascended the Third Herring Brook to Valley Swamp. Along the brooks many mills set up dams until the alewives could come up this brook no longer. The brook is narrow and rocky near Assinippi as it spills out of Jacob’s Pond. It winds through the woodlands to Mill St. and thence to East Street. Here iy begins to widen a bit, crosses Broadway, and widens more as passes through the flooded river plain.
It is in this area between Broadway and where it enters into the North River that Rainbow Bridge was constructed quite early, though no one knows its exact date. Its primary use was for the ship’s carpenters who made their way from Church Hill in South Scituate (Norwell) across the marshes and brook to the shipyards back of the Sylvester farm on the river. Likewise, it accomodated the Hanover men who worked in the Fox Hill Yard on the South Scituate side of the brook. From the picture one can see a wooden planked walkway above the level of the marsh leading to the bridge. (See map from Barry’s “History of Hanover” 1853 for the location of the brook, bridges, and yards)
Barry says that “during the palmy days of shipbuilding in Hanover, 1800 to 1808, five or six yards were in active operation and at least ten vessels were annually fitted for the sea….Every morning the carpenters might be seen crossing the pastures, or walking along the river bank, or over the tiny “Rainbow Bride’ to the place of their daily toil.” Imagine the scene at the Corners on payday ,Saturday night , when maybe 400 carpenters wanted to spend some of their money. Four Corners must have been a lively spot, not the sleepy little village of today.
How did Rainbow Bridge get its name? Proabably because of its graceful bowed shape, like a rainbow. It certainly was picturesque.
Then came the “Big Storm” of November 1898, sometimes called the “Portland Gale” The sea broke through the beach between Third Cliff and Fourth Cliff and made a new mouth for the North River direct to the open sea. Tides ran higher, the marshes were flooded, and ice flows in the winter did more damage. Rainbow Bridge gave way to the assault from the sea and ice. Other effects of the new mouth were great. Sand was washed in, and the river became shallower. It was harder to float a large ship down the river. This, coupled with the growing scarcity of large oak, finished the shipbuilding industry, already on the decline.
As a result of the “Big Storm” the salt water was pushed much higher up stream and caused higher tides and greater salinity in the water up as far as the falls in Hanover. The vegetation along the river changed. Thousands of trees, shrubs and plants died, because they could not adapt to the brackish water. New plants and vegetation took their place and began to grow, as a new era began.
I walked down through the Sylvester fields (with permission) on Sunday to view for myself this interesting piece of history. (These fields are still open and lined with the old stonewalls. They are one of Hanover’s wonderful unspoiled pastoral scenes thanks to the stewardship of Betsy Sylvester Robinson.) I tried to envision those “palmy days” of shipbuilding, the carpenters “walking along the fairy-like bridge of plank, worn by the tread of human feet for many years” (Barry), and the boys skinny dipping in the old swimming hole just below the bridge. I was surprised at the width of the brook at high tide, and the rocks which could be seen at low tide. Charlie Gleason said the bolts for the bridge were still visible in the old rocks which marked the location of Rainbow Bridge. I could not see them, but maybe I was not in the right spot. But as a walked out on the Gardner’s walkway across the marsh to the brook and looked toward the river nearby, I could not help but feel a sense of history.