Below is a story I wrote in March 2002 for the Howland Quarterly: A Little History of Plymouth Rock By Gail Ann Adams Plymouth Rock has been an icon of the Pilgrims landing for as long as any of us can remember. From our earliest school days we have the romantic vision of this famous landing. Historians disagree on this story. Indeed, the story may be glamorized but the rock surely has a story to tell. Who knows, maybe John Howland and his young bride Elizabeth sat upon the rock gazing at the ocean remembering their former homes, all they left behind, and making plans to build their new home and family. There is no account of the “rock” by the first settlers, but we do know that a rock was mentioned in 1714 as the “huge rock which is the boundary of the town of Plymouth.” In 1769 seven young Plymouth men formed the “Old Colony Club” for the purpose of “solemnizing the anniversary of the arrival of our forefathers.” One member, Deacon Ephraim Spooner, directed the focus of the group on Plymouth Rock. As a boy he had witnessed a certain Elder Thomas Faunce and his efforts to save and honor the Rock. Thomas Faunce was born in 1647, son of John Faunce and Patience Morton. John arrived in Plymouth Colony in 1623 on the Anne. Thomas was acquainted with several of the Mayflower passengers. He died in 1746 at the age of 99. In 1741 when Thomas Faunce was 95 the town of Plymouth was going to construct a wharf around the huge boulder. He protested and once again recounted the story of the rock. This story was memorialized by the Old Colony Club with an annual celebration of Forefather’s Day honoring the landing of the “ first-comers.” This story is also recorded in James Thatcher’s History of Plymouth published in Boston in 1835. A beautiful picture of the story is painted in Dr. LeBaron and His Daughters, published by Riverside Press in 1901 by Jane G. Austin: “….on a fine sunshiny morning…an open wagon was driven slowly and carefully into the town from the direction of Eel River. In the centre of it was placed an armchair, and upon this was seated an old, old man, whose ninety-five years had bowed the once stalwart figure, seamed the face with a thousand wrinkles, bleached the hair to the whiteness of raw silk, and stolen the strength of a voice once powerful in its Maker’s praise; but they had not been able to quench the memory, or dull the affections, or break the spirit of that brave soul, for this was ELDER FAUNCE, the last man left alive who had talked with the Pilgrims face to face, had heard their wondrous story from their own lips, and had followed them one after another to their nameless graves. And now today, hearing that the Forefather’s Rock was in danger itself going down to a forgotten grave, he had risen from his bed, and tenderly protected and led by the children and grandchildren who cared for his old age, he had come to say good-bye to the Rock, and to identify it with a certainty for generations to come. “As the wagon, with its escort of old and middle-aged and young descendants of the patriarch passed slowly to town, it paused once that the Elder might drink from the Pilgrim Spring of ‘sweet and delicate water,’ and as a grandson brought him the clamshell filled to overflowing, the old man tasted thrice, then poured the rest upon the ground saying: ‘It is as the water from the well of Bethlehem.’ “And so the wagon rolled on up the hill to the center of town; for by this way would the patriarch be brought, that h e might look once more at the old church, just about to be replaced by a new one, and the Burying Hill and the ancient houses which he as a boy had seen erected… “Young men and maidens, old men and children, they gathered in a sort of hushed excitement, waiting when he waited, and following when he moved; for the word had gone forth in some mysterious way that Elder Faunce had come among them for the last time and that he had something to declare. “Through the town, down Leyden Street, past the doctor’s house and past the minister’s that strange cortege moved slowly on, until passing under the brow of Cole’s Hill to he Rock, it halted, and two stalwart grandsons, stepping into the wagon, raised the old man tenderly, and stayed him while others pressed forward, and would have grasped his hands and welcomed him, but he, with solemn majesty, moved on unheeding, until, standing close beside the Rock, he took off his hat, and simply said: ‘Thank God.’ “Covering his white locks, and leaning upon his staff, the Elder spoke, and told the people how he had talked man to man with the last of the Pilgrims— with John Howland and his wife, with John Alden, Giles Hopkins, and George Soule, and Francis Cooke and his son John, Mistress Cushman, born Mary Allerton, who died but yesterday, in 1699. “ ‘Children,’ said the old man, looking around upon the people while such stillness reigned that the surf breaking upon the outer beach became distinctly audible, its grand diapason bearing up the quavering and slender voice. ‘ They all said that upon this Rock they stepped ashore, from the first man to the last; ay, and the woman too, for John Winslow’s wife, who was Mary Chilton, came here before she died, even as I come today, and I stood by while she set her foot upon it, and laughed, and said she was the first woman of the Mayflower to step upon the Rock, and now this was her seventy-fifth birthday. And ye, children of my blood, I charge you to remember how, year by year, while God lent me strength, I brought you here on Forefather’s Day and set your feet upon this Rock, and told you what mighty things the Fathers had done for you, and laid upon you to do them honor, and to serve God even as they had served Him, with all your strength, and all your mind—yes, and with your life, whensoever He calls for it. “ ‘It is true, grand sire,’ spoke out the nearest man; and a score of voices echoed, ‘It is true.’ “ ‘Then come ye forward, sons and grandsons, and set your feet upon the Rock once more in my sight, and never forget this day, you nor your children’s children, to the last generation.’ “So man by man, down to the boy of ten, the Faunces came and stood bareheaded on the Rock, and passed on, until the tale was told; and finally the Elder himself knelt down, and kissed that precious relic, and prayed that it might never be forgotten or the sons of the Pilgrim sires fall short of the bright example of their fathers. “Then exhausted and silent, he suffered his children to raise him and place him again in what had become, in some sort, a triumphal chariot, and so take him home by way of the waterside, followed by a vast concourse of people.” In 1774 patriot Col. Theophilus Cotton and a group of Liberty Boys decided to move the Rock to the Town Square for the Forefather’s Day celebration. Unfortunately the upper third of the Rock broke away. The upper part was placed on the square and a Liberty Pole was erected. In 1834 this upper third was moved to Pilgrim hall and the following year the Rock was enclosed by an iron fence designed by George W. Brimmer of Boston. In 1880 the upper third finally made its way home and was joined to the base. The date “1620” was carved into the Rock at this time. The date had been on the Rock for many years in paint. An ornate stone canopy was completed by Hammatt Billings. During the Plymouth Tercentenary in 1920 guardianship passed to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The Rock was moved one last time for renovations on the waterfront. Its final resting place is under a portico donated by the National Society of Colonial Dames of America. In researching for this article, I did find some historians who were skeptical about the Thomas Faunce story. I kept coming back to the same question: “ Why would Thomas Faunce make it up?” Thomas had heard the story from his father and some Mayflower passengers themselves. It seems reasonable that when Thomas’ father arrived in 1623 on the Anne that stories would be shared with the new-comers. Surely they told how they searched for water, a place to build, the starving time, losing half their number that first winter, and perhaps even about the “rock.” Faunce was a ruling Elder and obviously loved and respected for a large crowd came to hear him speak that day in 1741. Clearly, this Rock held a special place for the early folks of Plymouth. We owe Thomas Faunce and the founders of the Old Colony Club a debt of gratitude. Thomas knew our John and Elizabeth and helped keep the memory of those “first-comers” alive. As for me, I will continue to visit the “Rock” and ponder the stories it could tell. **************Vote for your city's best dining and nightlife. City's Best 2008. (http://citysbest.aol.com?ncid=aolacg00050000000102)