Adams-Nervine Asylum - Boston Globe Article

This article originally appeared in the Boston Daily Globe on April 18, 1887

A good many people besides the doctors are beginning to realize that nervous diseases are alarmingly on the increase.  To use that abominable word which nowadays parades all newspaperdom, nerves are the most “prominent” complaints of the nineteenth century -  at least, on this side of the water.

Is it our climate, or is it the mad pursuit of the “mighty dollar” that makes so many American martyrs to what is known as “nervous prostration.”  No doubt both are potent factors of what threatens to become the great national weakness.  In view of this condition of things, it is a comfort to know that there are places dedicated to the care and fate of the victims of nervous disorders.  The so-called civilization of this western world has more to do with the dark side of our “vital statistics” than we are apt to believe.   And, so long as supposititiously sensible people will persist in leading lives that keep every nerve in their bodies in constant tension, just so long shall we need such institutions as the Adams Nervine Asylum at Jamaica Plain.

No woman who has enjoyed the privileges and benefits and beauties of this house of healing but has blessed the name of the late Seth Adams of Newton, to whom it owes its existence.  

The will of its founder provided that it should be “for the benefit of the indigent, debilitated nervous people who are not insane, inhabitants of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, as may be in need of the benefits of a curative institution”; but its charter authorizes it also to “receive and care for persons not indigent, who may otherwise be suitable for treatment in the institution, on payment of reasonable compensation for such treatment, the same to be determined by its managers.”

Incorporated in 1877 and first opened for patients in 1880, the asylum owns real and personal estate assessed at upwards of $600,000.  Situated on Centre Street, in the neighborhood of Bussy Park and the Arnold Arboretum, its beautiful group of buildings, crowning the summit of a well-wooded slope, presents one of the most attractive pictures of this most picturesque locality.  There are three main buildings, the hospital or asylum proper, the doctor’s residence and the nurses’ college, the latter connected by a covered way with the asylum.  Then there are barns, stables, boiler-houses, etc., etc., altogether

Quite a Little Settlement
A well-kept carriage-drive winds in and out among the giant evergreens that are among the chief beauties of the place, and brings you to a great quaint Queen Anne structure, made up partly of wood and partly of pudding stone, phenomenally gifted with gables, and breaking out all over with balconies.  A first glance gives the comforting  assurance that there is at least a balcony apiece for every patient.  Balconies of all conceivable shapes and sizes - in short, such a varied assortment of these delightful architectural excrescences as is bound to suit the most fastidious.  A generous hall, not a mere passageway, but a genuine out-and-out hall, occupies the centre of the ground floor, and out of it opens reception, drawing, dining and battery rooms.

Rich rugs scattered here and there over polished hardwood floors, graceful draperies, engravings and etchings of good pictures, and best of all, books, go to make up a cozy homelike interior  that is most attractive. In the dining-room, pictures, pretty china and a neatly-laid table prove that a meal at the Nervine Asylum is no mere vulgar “leed”.  And, indeed, everything about the place shows that the managers have a realizing sense of the soothing and healing influences of aesthetic surroundings.  Bright-faced, healthy, wholesome looking young women in nurses’ caps and aprons flit hither and yon, and patients are reading, writing, talking or strolling about, as the spirit moves them.  

There are accommodations for twenty-six patients in the main building.  A few “double up,” and in one large apartment there are four beds, but the majority of the patients enjoy the privacy of separate rooms and charming rooms they are, too, attractively, even artistically furnished, well lighted, well aired, and every one commanding a magnificent prospect.  And though the walls are adorned with some very pretty landscapes the best ones after all are outside.  For when it comes to pictures Dame Nature’s take the palm.  And the inmates of the asylum have on every hand specimens of her choicest handwork.  The views here are simply superb, - not so wild as to be exciting nor so quiet as to be monotonous, but just the proper picturesque medium.  It would be hard to find anything better calculated to calm and cure poor tired-out, overstrained nerves than sitting of a summer evening on one of the many aforementioned balconies and drinking in the sights and sounds and odors of this lovely spot.  The sweet, balsamic smell of spruce and pine and hemlock fill the air.

All the Air with Healing
Altogether, the asylum is a most delightful place and fully realizes the dream of its founder.  True, it can hardly be said that the clause of Mr. Adams’ last will and testament, which directs that “the architectural style of the building shall be plain, substantial and simple,” has been strictly adhered to.  Substantial, the building most certainly is, but it really cannot be called plain.  And if its style be simple it surely is of a very “elegant simplicity.”  But be sure the blessed man could find no fault with it as it stands!  For could he but know it, its very beauty is but another ingredient in the good work going on here and adds to the patient’s well-being just as it does to have food properly prepared and temptingly served.

That portion of the will, which enjoins that “great attention be paid to convenience, comfort, good-sized rooms and good air” has been fulfilled to the very letter.  The air is pure and sweet, and a mild, summery temperature is maintained even in the coldest weather.  All the buildings are heated by steam generated in the boiler house, and but one fire is to be found upon the entire place, and that in the kitchen.  Steam and electricity do many wonderful things and doubtless will do many more but when it comes to grilling a steak or chop they are not ‘there.’  The perfect cuisine will continue to call for a solid bed of glowing coals and nothing but actual contact with flame can bring out and preserve the ideal flavor of fish, flesh or fowl.  

Talking of electricity reminds us of the afore-mentioned battery-room.  Here the bright brass discs of a big electric battery glisten under a great glass case and hanging from the walls of the room are all sorts of queer apparatus for driving the lazy blood into new life, and giving the flesh and that it implies a gentle fillip to remind it that it is forgetting its functions.  This is where you get “points” and have your hair combed by electricity till you present the appearance of a very “fretful porcupine”.

Commodious bathrooms give ample opportunity for hot and cold bathing, which is greatly relied upon as a curative agent, as is also the massage.

Broad, easy staircases, with broad and frequent landings, each one lighted by a large window, lead from floor to floor.  There is nothing of the air of the regulation hospital or asylum.  Every door is thrown open, and there is an all-pervading atmosphere of comfort and hospitality.  It seems like a perfectly appointed elegant private residence, and the white-haired matron who moves about with such quiet, gentle dignity, the high bred chatelaine presiding over her broad domain, emphasizes this impression.

Paying Low Rates
The wisdom as well as the humanity of the managers is shown by the fact that the free patients and those of board are not confined to any one floor, but are distributed over the house as seems most desirable to doctor and matron, and no one knows how much or how little is paid by any one.

A provision of the founder’s will was that great attention be paid to diet - a proof of his wisdom.  The estate contains eighteen acres, two of which are devoted to a kitchen garden thus insuring the patients an abundance of fresh vegetables, small fruit, etc.

No family is complete without a horse, and the happy family here is in possession of three more or less noble steeds, while the carriage-house contains various vehicles, so that, whenever Old Prob permits, the patients go out driving both morning and afternoon.

Thus far, women only have been received at the asylum.  A building for men has been in contemplation from the first, but the managers do not feel that the resources of the institution will at present warrant the erection and maintenance of another building, although they hope soon to compass their desire.

During the past year 104 persons have been treated in the asylum.  The total number of applications for admission was 281.  The reasons for refusal of those denied admission were: 7, because they were males; 11, too great age; 1, infancy; 31, insanity; 26, non-resident; 18, unsuitable cases either not likely to improve or having other than nervous diseases.  Lack of room alone prevented admission of the remaining number.  This shows that the asylum needs not only a building for men, but greater accommodations for women.  Four patients can be, and usually are, accommodated in the doctor’s residence, a roomy, comfortable and handsome house which was purchased with the estate.  Here they can be made perhaps even more comfortable - but  that hardly seems possible - than in the asylum proper, and come directly and continuously under the doctor’s personal supervision.

Dr. Samuel G. Webber has been in charge since 1885.  Dr. Frank Page having up to that time filled this most responsible post.  A talk with Dr. Webber is naturally both interesting and instructive.  His experience goes to show the fallacy of the popular notion that women are “nervous” through sheer laziness - that they, so to speak, cultivate their nerves because they have nothing else to do.  Dr. Webber says he is “not sure that of all the cases treated during the year, a single one has been caused by inactivity and ennui.”

So long as there is not sufficient room for both sexes, it is natural and proper that women should have the preference, since women are greater, or rather more frequent sufferers from nervous disorders.  Not that men are exempt.  By no manner of means.  But, as a rule, they fight fate to the bitter end.  They can’t afford to give in, and so keep up till there is an utter collapse and the human machine, like the wonderful one-hoss shay goes to smash

At One Fell Swoop
The statistics of the asylum show that of those admitted, unmarried women are in a great majority.  Chiefest among the causes mentioned by the doctor as giving rise to this state of things is the fact that many of these women have worn themselves out working for and waiting upon others - daughters upon whom have devolved the weight of household cares and the nursing of invalid parents or relatives, and who have no one to fall back upon when their own strength fails.  They and  similar cases are the ones who appear in the report of the asylum as having “no occupation” - a statement calculated to lead one who doesn’t read between the lines into serious error.

Housework and teaching contribute nearly 50 percent of the victims of nervous disorders; that is to say, they are credited with that in the published table of occupations.  But this percentage is swollen to about 70 when the class last mentioned is taken into account.  Nearly 20 percent of the patients come under the head of “housewives.”  And who that has seen the lives of some New England farmers’ wives, will wonder at this?

“A man’s work is o’er at set of sun; A woman’s work is never done”, runs the old couplet, and these women verify it.  Baking, brewing, sewing, scouring, mending, milking, washing, sweeping, working late and working early, bearing babies, nurturing sick folks, that’s the recipe for the life of the average farmers’ wife, whose husband takes far more care of his cattle than of his better half, and whose “folks” would be scandalized to hear that Sairey Jane was being killed by hard work.  But Sairey Jane doesn’t go to the asylum.  She can’t spare the time.  She can’t spare the time to go anywhere except to her grave, and when she quietly slips into that it never occurs to the “mourners” to think they have buried, not to say murdered, a martyr.

Then there’s teaching!  How many who haven’t tried it realize what a wearing, nerve tearing business it is?  Teaching, steadily persisted in, is warranted to spoil the temper of an archangel, the constitution of a mule, or the nerves of a cast-iron monkey.  Small wonder that it ranks next to domestic servitude as a nerve destroyer!  The only reason that it comes second is that the teacher has got some time to herself, whereas the destroying angel of that poor unprofessional “slavey”, the domestic drudge, “has all hours for its own.”

The number of recoveries at the asylum is not large, nor can it be, considering the cases treated.  As Dr. Webber says in his report, “Many patients have been ailing for years, or have inherited a weak, nervous organization, and those among such patients whose means have been limited have been obliged to uses their strength and energy in keeping the home circle unbroken.  The strain of this upon a naturally weak, nervous system is severe, and in such cases, a partial recovery is the most that can be expected from a ‘few months’ stay at the asylum.  The relief obtained is, however, of great benefit, enabling the patient to take up her burdens again with fresh courage and renewed strength.  They do not realize the amount of strength they have gained until after returning to their accustomed labors, and many continue to improve, and subsequently regain full health.”

To Mrs. Sherwood, the matron, Dr. Webber accords the highest praise, saying that “to her wise management and counsel is in a great measure due the quiet discipline of the house which has added materially in the relief and recovery of the patients.”  The feeling of kindly sympathy and fellowship that is everywhere so apparent is doubtless also largely due to her gentle, womanly influence.  

The average stay of patients at the Asylum is a little over four months, and few stay longer than six months.  Occasionally a patient has remained for a year, but this is not considered desirable.  Dr. Webber thinks if they can be benefited at all it will be within from four to six months, and that, the good work once inaugurated, it is just as well for them to go away and give other applicants a chance.  He says, and wisely, that sick folks don’t want to stay too much among sick folks.  And yet this quiet, restful home is such a happy one, and life here so enjoyable, that patients go back reluctantly to battle again with the busy, bitter world.

The fact that heredity plays an important part in nervous disturbance has been illustrated in the cases of many of the doctor’s patients.  So, take care of your nerves, good people, not only for your own sake, but that of future generations.  Don’t run the machine quite so fast.  Slow up a little, or we shall have to turn the whole continent into a vast nerve asylum, and the chances are you wouldn’t have such a good time or good treatment as the patients do out at Jamaica Plain.

Mary Norton Bradford

Adams-Nervine Asylum - National Register Nomination Form

The material that appears below was excerpted from National Register of Historic Places Nomination Form prepared by Candace Jenkins, Massachusetts Historical Commission, and Judith McDonald, Boston Landmarks Commission in March 1981 and was entered into the Register on June 1, 1982. Additional material including maps, correspondence, and photographs attached to the Nomination Form have been omitted. Jennifer Stewart assisted with the conversion of the original typewritten form to this digital format.

Statement of Significance
The Adams Nervine Asylum possesses integrity of location, design, setting, materials, workmanship and association, and is significant for its architecture, landscaping, and social history. It is Boston’s single remaining rural estate, which consists of outstanding later Victorian wood frame structures in their original setting. The social significance of the property lies chiefly in its development as a medical treatment center that embodied humanitarian and progressive ideals and methods. The property thus meets criteria A & C of the National Register.

The property was located on highlands at the edge of the Bussey Farmstead, known as Woodland Hill. The farm, now the Arnold Arboretum, was given to Harvard University in 1872 for the establishment of a tree garden (National Historic Landmark). The horticultural improvement did not begin to take its present shape until 1882, when a long-term agreement, projected by Frederick Law Olmsted as part of his Boston Park System Plan occurred, stipulating that Harvard develop and maintain the Arboretum and that the City of Boston hold title to the land.

The Asylum was incorporated in 1877 and opened in 1880. The purchase of the Jamaica Plain estate of J. Gardiner Weld, a commercial merchant who died c. 1876 prior to inhabiting his new mansion, was made possible by Seth Adams, who made his fortune at his sugar refinery in South Boston. The Adams brothers (Seth and Isaac) previously had manufactured printing presses and machinery. At his death, Seth Adams bequeathed $600,000 for the establishment of a curative institution for the benefit of indigent, debilitated, and nervous people: inhabitants of the State who are not insane.

The Trustees purchased the Weld estate and neighboring Lewis and Glover property for conversion to the Asylum in 1879, and initiated the architectural competition to design the necessary additional buildings. The planning of the Asylum was to incorporate the theories of Thomas Kirkbride, a contemporary Philadelphia psychiatrist, who developed the "moral treatment" system for patients with nervous disorders. Kirkbride advocated small (not more than 250 patients) hospitals to be regarded as hostels for patients temporarily removed from their communities; the hospitals were to reflect aspects of normal community living, i.e., home-style atmosphere, non-isolation, dignity of patients. Such theories are early representations of current halfway house and patients’ rights philosophies.

The Asylum also reflected another aspect of nineteenth century medical theory, that is, the "villa style" or "village plan" institution that first emerged at the Kankakee State Hospital and locally appeared in Brookline at the Channing Sanatorium. The Kankakee plan incorporated small residences with a central, restaurant-style dining room, shops and vocational buildings, a green, sidewalks and driveways in imitation of a small village. Both the Kirkbride and Kankakee progressive theories stressed the importance of patient individuality and freedom of movement and required the physical plant to permit the same. The most important aspects of both theories are to be found at the Asylum and in the Adams House itself. The Adams House, built in 1880, served the female patients; it was not until 1895 that a House for Men was completed. Men never numbered more than 25% of the total patient population of about 40. This structure burned subsequently.

nervine460px.jpg

Present and Original Physical Appearance
The Adams Nervine Asylum is composed of three major structures and four ancillary buildings, all dating from the late nineteenth century, sited on a generously landscaped estate in the Jamaica Plain neighborhood of Boston. The major structures are set within broad lawns shielded from Centre Street by a row of tall evergreens. Short granite posts mark the entrances and gravel paved driveways in the 1,800-foot frontage. The service structures are generally placed behind the major buildings, on the easterly portion of the grounds which slope down to and afforded views of the Arnold Arboretum. Shrubbery is clustered between the buildings, and mature trees provide considerable shade.

The oldest structure is the J. Gardiner Weld House, built c. 1875, in the French Mansard style. It is a two-and-a-half-story, three bay wide by three bay deep wood frame house with clapboard sheathing set on a masonry foundation. There is a distinctive five-story mansard-ed octagonal tower on the southwestern elevation. The northwestern entrance facade is symmetrically arranged about a central projecting bay with an elaborate columnar and segment-ally pediment portico. The segmental pediment theme is repeated above, in the cornice and at the mansard level. Floor levels are emphasized by decorative stringcourses and modillion bracketed cornices. In keeping with the French Mansard style, ornament is elaborate, academic, and architectonically placed to articulate openings, corners, and other shifts of plane. It contrasts with the clapboard skin of the two major floors and the slate covering of the mansard levels. Windows on each level differ in shape, but all have typical elongated proportions, a double hung sash and boldly carved enframements.

The offset five-story turret placed in the left bay on the southwestern facade repeats the basic design elements of the main block. The turret’s verticality is counterbalanced by the open veranda that wraps around the southeast corner of the house. The veranda is distinguished by its, ornately carved, wood posts and fretwork railing. The northeastern elevation, a modest echo of the northwestern entry façade, is distinguished by an elaborately carved overhanging door hood. The major fire escape system for the Weld House is located here.

A four-story clapboard sheathed frame addition set at the northeastern corner doubled the size of the house in 1899. Bracketed cornices and stringcourses match those of the main block. Although of no particular stylistic derivation, the addition complements the detailing of the Weld House.

The carriage house accompanying the Weld House is a fine example of pattern-book architecture. Essentially a single-story rectangle with a patterned slate mansard roof, the clapboarded massing is broken by a cross gable entry projection, dormers, and a steep roofed cupola.

The 1880 Queen Ann style Adams House is a commodious two-story structure. The basic T-plan is de-emphasized by the various porches, verandas, large roof dormers and other spatial projections. The main floor is set on a high basement and both levels are faced with polychromatic rough-hewn stonework with brick voussoirs emphasizing corners and window openings. Broad steps lead to the stone, Romanesque detailed porch that covers the recessed entry. The second floor is sheathed with clapboard; its stick style articulation continues in the steep ridged and gabled slate covered roofs of the structure. Fish scale shingling on the gable ends plus the sunburst carvings in dormer pediments, screens, ornate brick chimneys, and bracketed cornices are familiar elements of the Queen Anne stylistic vocabulary. Despite the irregularity of massing and roof profiles, the fenestration pattern of the façade consistently provides paired windows with double hung sash of a variety of proportions.

Elaborate single-story open frame porches counterbalance each other on the sides of the Adams House. Each is distinguished by a lattice filled lower apron and a chinoiserie balustrade with cut and turned posts and brackets. The northeasterly veranda echoes the shape of the projecting three-story octagonal bay of the main house and extends to the ancillary Davis crafts or activity house, a two-story frame hipped roof structure. The balustrade above the veranda wraps around the rear of the Adams building, which displays similar but less elaborate details than its other three elevations. The southwesterly porch with its octagonal projection also links to the two-and-a-half-story, cross gable plan, Nurses cottage.

Behind the Weld Mansion is a small greenhouse, now in disrepair. The boiler and laundry facility is a simple three bay by four bay frame single-story plus mansard level structure, located behind the Adams House. The elevations are sheathed with clapboard. The slate roof, penetrated by dormers, is set above a simple modillion cornice. Side stairs with a simple wooden railing lead to its front entry.

At the southern most end of the property is the Director’s House, a Colonial Revival structure, c. 1895, by an unknown architect. Set on a knoll, the house is oriented southerly and is approached by a short flight of steps. The two-story frame structure displays characteristic Colonial Revival symmetry and proportions. Full height swell front bays flank the central entry portico with slender Doric columns and a graceful balustrade, A Palladian window on the second story and a pediment-ed roof dormer further accentuate the central axis, which is then counterbalanced by the deck on top of the roof with its paired chimneys and delicate balustrade. Later additions have modified the neo-classical symmetry of the other elevations.

The 1891 Men’s Residence was designed by Harris M. Stevenson, a Boston architect who began practice in 1870 after training with Nathaniel Bradlees. This structure later was destroyed by fire.

The Weld House is an exuberant representation of the French Mansard style, while the Adams House portrays the Queen Anne Revival style, and the last of the major structures, the Director’s House illustrates the final nineteenth century architectural fashion, the Colonial Revival. The dependent structures are placed in standard spatial and functional relationships to their central buildings. These structures chronologically reflect the transitions in architectural fashion, and each appears at the onset or peak of its particular style’s prominence.

The Weld Mansion, c. 1875, reflects the picturesque country house ideals popularized in the 1840’s by Andrew Jackson Downing. Downing professed that buildings and their grounds are extensions of each other and that estates should promote hospitality, moral virtue, and domesticity. While asymmetrical plans and irregular rooflines were hallmarks of the picturesque in architecture, numerous stylistic interpretations were employed and usually were derivations of earlier European modes. In this instance, the French Mansard, or French Second Empire style, was at its height of popularity and a logical choice for a gentlemen’s estate in Jamaica Plain.

Weld’s architect acknowledged the magnificent views of the surrounding countryside by providing a high turret for the mansion. The unknown architect delivered a facile version of the French Mansard style villa: a rectangular primary block with openings arranged symmetrically about an emphasized central bay, often as here in semi-pavilion form; a mansard roof with dormers; the offset turret; and extensive architectonic ornament. Interior revisions were made in 1879 when the house became the administrative offices, and its rear was expanded substantially in 1899.

The accompanying carriage house is a fine example of an estate service building; its cross gable plan with a mansard roof of a complex profile and steep cupola reflects its probable builder’s guidebook origin.

More information is known about the design of the Adams House. The winner of the design competition sponsored by the trustees was J. Pickering Putnam (1874 – c. 1905) a Boston architect, who had an active residential practice in Back Bay having designed both Hadden Hall and Hotel Charlesgate. The other entrants were William G. Preston and the firm of Cabot and Chandler. Despite Seth Adams’ stipulation that the structure "be plain, substantial and simple and great attention shall be paid to convenience, comfort, good-sized rooms and good air," two of the three designs, including that of the winner, were hardly plain. Putnam, a Harvard graduate, trained at the Ecole des Beaux Arts and Berlin’s Royal Academy of Architecture, effectively disguised the monumental scale of the structure, built in 1880 and used for the women’s residence, with customary Queen Anne style elements of porches, dormers, ornamental screens, asymmetrical fenestration pattern, constantly changing surface materials and irregular massing and roof profiles. Its restlessness contrasts with the formality of the Weld Mansion, but both represent important phases of the picturesque.

The Director’s House, by an unknown designer, displays the neo-classical symmetry and proportions of the Colonial Revival style, and contrasts with the picturesque forms of the Weld Mansion and Adams House. Although later additions have modified the design of all but the main (southern) facade, the building, set on a knoll, adds to the grouping of varied late nineteenth century architectural styles, complete with its original country environment.

Bibliography
Cunliffe, Ausukel, Hansel & Rotenstein, unpublished and untitled paper, Harvard University Carpenter Center for Visual Studies –VES 163, Prof. E. Sekler, undated.

Drake, S. Old Landmarks & Historic Personages of Boston.

Herndon, Richard. Boston of Today, Boston 1892.

King’s Handbook, 1883.

Putnam, J.P. Architecture under Nationalism, Boston, The Nationalist Association, 1890. Published The Nationalist, "a monthly magazine devoted to the nationalization of Industry and the goal of Brotherhood of Humanity".

The International or Metric System of Weights & Measures, Boston, 1874.

Windsor, J., Ed. The memorial History of Boston. Boston, 1881.

Wyman, Donald. The Arnold Arboretum Garden Book. New York and Toronto, 1954.

Zaitzevsky, C. Final Report-Architectural and Historic Surveys of Park Square, Jamaica Plain, Forest Hills Cemetery, Olmsted Park System and Pierce Square, Dorchester Lower Mills, unpublished report for the Boston Landmarks Commission, 1970.

Annals and Reminiscences of Jamaica Plain, 1897

By Harriet Manning Whitcomb
Printed at The Riverside Press, Cambridge, 1897

[Editor's note: some of the spelling conventions found in the original work will seem odd by today's standards. For example, "today" is always spelled "to-day" and "state" is always capitalized. Other unusual spellings include "minute-men", "ship-master", "deer-park", and "water-front".]

This sketch was prepared by request to be read before the Jamaica Plain Ladies' Tuesday Club. Subsequently a desire was expressed to have it put in a more permanent form and offered for sale at a Fair for the Jamaica Plain Indian Association. Although personally reluctant to appear before the public in this way, I have allowed my desire to aid a good cause and give pleasure to my friends who have kindly received my paper to influence me in its publication.

I am indebted to "The Memorial History of Boston" to Drake's "Town of Roxbury," to Dr. Thomas Gray's "Half-Century Sermon," and to the memory of a few of the older residents for some dates and incidents given.

If any of these should prove to be inaccurate, I must rely upon the charity and courtesy of my readers for only indulgent criticism.

H.M.W.

To collect and review the circumstances and events which have made our homes and those of our ancestors for many generations is more than a pleasant service. We find an interest and fascination in every step of the way, leading us, as it does, into one of the most delightful portions of our country, and introducing us to not a few of the most refined and cultivated, as well as distinguished people of New England.

There is ever a charm about old-fashioned people and places, as about old books and pictures, antique furniture and china; they affect us by the very contrast they afford with ourselves and our surroundings, even though it is with a touch of pathos and sadness.

Long years ago a much-traveled man, who knew the country well, said, "Jamaica Plain is the Eden of America." He was not a Bostonian, and our village was still a part of Roxbury, so that the suggestion of conceit and boasting over this small portion of "the Hub" could not be imputed to him.

It has often seemed to us that the loving, favoring smile of heaven rested peculiarly upon our plain, environed as it is by gently rising hills, which, with their robes of verdure and noble trees, shelter it from harsh winds, and hold it in the warmth and freedom of a pure health-giving atmosphere. Our charming lake, covering more than sixty-five acres, nestles like a gem in its western borders, mirroring forms and colors, all of beauty, and holds upon its banks some of the most delightful of our homes.

In early days it gave of its clear, soft waters for the needs of the neighboring city;[1]while through the eastern portion of our village the quiet Stony River made glad the farms and yielded power for mill and factory.

We find that the name originally given to out village was Pond Plain, but as early as 1667, it is referred to in an official paper as the "Jamaica End of the Town of Roxbury."

There are differing opinions as to the origin of the present name; some have so far reflected upon our colonial ancestors as to intimate that a decided fondness for Jamaica rum suggested it, and it is doubtless true that the punch bowl had other uses than to be simply ornamental on the sideboards of our grandsires. Others, however, believe that it was given to commemorate Cromwell's acquisition of the island of Jamaica, in 1670, which secured to Boston numerous very valuable products. There seems, to us, to be a peculiar appropriateness to the name, as it signified in Indian "Isle of Springs," because if the brooks and springs which abound here, making the land verdant and fertile. If we cannot to-day boast of grand and stately castles, reared in the olden time, as in the mother country, with guarding moats and bastions, loopholes for crossbows and guns, -- silent testimonials of opulence and power, -- we yet can bring to view pictures of many a dwelling, gray and brown with weather stains and lichens and folds of ivy, which have held within their walls of oak and cedar people and events whose records thrill our hearts with patriotic pride or affectionate reverence.

In early times our village was chiefly an agricultural community, and the cultivation of fruits and vegetables for the city supply was the specialty; but here and there were elegant country-seats occupied by government officials, professional and literary men, and city merchants. Some of these homes and people we hope to see, by favoring records and memory's aid, this afternoon.

Until within a short time, near the Boylston Station, stood a very ancient building, with a pitched roof in the rear sloping nearly to the ground, known as the "Curtis Homestead." It is claimed that this was one of the oldest houses in our country, and that, in 1639[2], William Curtis made a clearing in the forest for it, using timbers in its construction from his felled trees. The record is that William Curtis marries Sarah Eliot, sister of Rev. John Eliot, in Nazing, England, in 1618, and that, in 1632, they came with their four children to Boston, and it is believed that most of those who bear the name of Curtis in our country are direct descendants of this William and Sarah. For about two hundred and fifty years this house was the home of the Curtises, the last occupants being the widow and children of Isaac, seventh in descent from William.

During the siege of Boston, troops were quartered here and added their record of strife and suffering to that of domestic peace and happiness, in which the "Apostle Eliot" and his estimable wife often shared; and possibly Winthrop, Pynchon, and the Dudleys, and others whose names stand as pioneers of religious liberty in New England.

Emerson aptly said, "There has never been a clearing made in a forest, that did not let in the light on heroes and heroines."

A few years since, the march of improvement, so called, obliterated this genuine relic of colonial days, with the fine old elm, which for more that a century had shaded it and wafted kindly breezes over it.

Although we have no knowledge that the Apostle Eliot ever lived in the "Jamaica End of Roxbury," he is closely identified with our early history and development, and deserves more than a passing notice. In 1689 he gave some seventy-five acres of land, including the tract lying from Orchard to Thomas, and from Centre to Pond streets, "the income from which was to be used for the support of a school and a schoolmaster." The street, hall, and schoolhouse, which bear his name, commemorate his generous gift. This noble man stands out in those early days as a beacon of godliness, for education, and for trust in philanthropy. Perhaps, in no sphere of his remarkable life does he more command our admiration and reverence that as the friend of the Indian and the Negro. His untiring zeal and self-denying labors on their behalf entitle him to be called "the Apostle."

In a letter to a friend in 1659, he writes: "Pity for the poor Indian, and desire to make the name of Christ chief in these dark ends of the earth, and not the rewards of men, were the very first and chief movers in my heart." Nor can we question that these were the all controlling motives, when we consider that after acquiring their language, by the aid of a young Pequot, he translated the entire Bible into their tongue, besides a Psalter, primers, grammars, and other useful books; and all this in addition to faithfully fulfilling the duties of minister of the First Church in Roxbury for fifty-eight years, a record of devotion, diligence, and scholarship almost unequaled.

One has beautifully summed up his life in these words:[3] "His missionary zeal was not less that Saint Paul's, his charity was as sweet as that of Saint Francis d'Assisi, and his whole life a testimony that the call to saintliness has not ceased and the possibility of it has not died out." Eliot lived to see the fruits of his devoted work in the changed character and life of many Indians. More than two centuries have elapsed since this leader of the Indian cause went to his reward, but his mantle rests to-day on some here who deeply feel the need and love that work in behalf of the poor Indian.

In 1663 our Centre Street was laid out and called the Dedham road or highway, being a direct route from Boston, by way of "the Neck" and Roxbury Street, to Dedham. At that time and for more than one hundred and fifty years after traveling was by horseback, by private carriage, and by the stagecoach. Those who were unable to own horses or pay stage fares walked to and from Boston, often heavily laden.

The accommodation stages would stop for passengers along the route, blowing a horn as they approached the dwelling, wherever a signal had been placed for them. The express stages, used chiefly by business men, running from Providence and the New York boat, took no heavy baggage, required double pay, and made stops only as they needed relays of horses. Four such changes were made from Providence to Boston, and the journey was completed in about four hours. In 1826 the first Jamaica Plain hourlies[4] began to run; the fare was twenty-five cents. They started from Mr. Joshua Seaver's store, and would call for passengers in any part of the village as requested in the order-box.

Mr. Seaver's store, established in 1796, stood on slightly elevated ground farther back from the street than the one now occupied by his grandsons, and connected with his dwelling.

Here, also, was the village post-office for many years, and the favorite meeting-place of the townspeople to discuss local interests, indulge in pleasantries, as well as exchange their coins for fine groceries, small wares, and farming utensils. Our grandparents of that day folded their quarto sheets, sealed, stamped, and addressed them, and paid twelve and one-half cents for the privilege of sending then on their mission.[5] The advent of the two-cent postage stamp and the one-cent card was not then dreamed of.

Entering Centre Street at the Railroad bridge, frequently confounded with the historic Hog's Bridge[6], which formerly spanned Stony Brook near Heath Street, we see on the right all that remains of the once extensive and very beautiful estate of the Lowells, a family among the most honored in our State for character, learning, and culture. The original house, built of stone in the latter part of the last century, was modeled from an old castle in Europe, and became the property of Judge John Lowell in 1785, who resided here until his death in 1802. He was President of the Massachusetts Society for Promoting Agriculture, and his extensive grounds were largely devoted to the cultivation of a variety of the finest fruits and plants. His son, Hon. John Lowell, inherited this estate and the talent and fondness for horticulture and agriculture, and added several fine glass houses, which he filled with rare and beautiful plants, many of them imported from Europe and other foreign lands. He erected the present commodious mansion. The aged lady who occupied the house until recently was a sister of Dr. Charles Lowell, once minister of the West Church, Boston, and father of Hon. James Russell Lowell. The Lowell Institute for free lectures on scientific, literary, and religious theses was founded by John Lowell, Jr.

In 1834, the Boston and Providence Railroad cut through this estate, and from time to time other innovations have despoiled it of its grandeur and beauty.

We pass several ancient houses, with associations doubtless dear to the descendants of their first owners, but unknown to use, and come to Hyde's Square, and the intersection of Centre, Perkins, and Day streets. The triangle in the center, bordered with shade trees, had a valuable landmark on it, not a dwelling, but an old pump, which, if it could voice its memories, would tell is interesting tales of weary, dusty travelers, in vehicles, on horseback, and on foot, of stage-coach horses, and those heavy-laden teams from far away, to which it had given its cooling, refreshing waters, through nearly every day and hour of bygone years.

And now, after a few rods, we come to the well-preserved old farmhouse, the Joseph Curtis homestead, built in 1722 by Samuel Curtis, grandson of the first William, for his son Joseph. A descendant with the same name, and fifth in line from William, now resides here, while the broad acres adjoining, bordering the street with graceful elms, smile with the fruits of careful husbandry, and afford ample space for the beautiful homes of four generations of the same family. During the war of the Revolution, troops from Rhode Island, under General Greene, used this house for barracks, the family willingly giving up its space and comforts for their accommodation.

On the corner of Centre and Boylston streets one is attracted by a quaint and picturesque dwelling, in style and setting one is the most interesting of the older houses in our town, which tells the story of its age on one of its chimneys, 1738 being the date. It was erected by Captain Benjamin Hallowell, who married a Miss Boylston, of Boston, whose family was prominent in its early history. He was a hot-headed, active loyalist, and commissioner of His Majesty's customs, as well as mandamus councilor, which facts made him obnoxious to the public, and in 1775, during the siege of Boston, he found it wise hastily to vacate his house and seek refuge in the city. The house was then appropriated by the patriotic troops for a hospital, and some of the soldiers who died were buried in the lot in the rear of the house. Later the property was confiscated by the State, and, in 1791, bought by Dr. Leprilete, who resided here until his death. He also was buried in the garden, and a memorial tablet marked the grave until the remains were removed to a cemetery. Upon the death of Captain Hallowell in England, his widow reclaimed the estate. His son, Nicholas Ward, then took his mother's name of Boylston and inherited the property. Mr. Boylston was a gentleman of true culture, education, and philanthropy, making valuable donations to Harvard College, and to several schools. He is justly honored by having his name perpetuated not only by our street and district, but by a bank, market, school and street in the city proper. Dr. Benjamin F. Wing purchased this property in 1845, and it has remained in his family to the present time.

In 1797, just one hundred years ago, was erected the stately brick mansion which, with the ample grounds extending to the pond, was called "Lakeville." Mr. Du Ballet first resided here; later it was the home of Horatio Greenough, the sculptor, and it is said that he carved his celebrated group, "The Chanting Cherubs," while living here. In 1840 Lakeville Place was opened, dividing this estate, and later made beautiful by the several residences upon it. Since 1842, the Lakeville Mansion has been the home of Mr. Thomas Seaverns and Family. The inception of the Episcopal Church in our village was largely due to Mr. Charles Beaumont, father of Mr. Frank Beaumont, who resided in the Lakeville mansion in 1833. The first services were held here, and later in the Village Hall on Thomas Street, Rev. Mr. Howe of St. James Church, Roxbury, officiating. In 1840 a lot of land was purchased of Mr. Charles Beaumont on the site of the present St. John Street, and a chapel built which was consecrated on 1841 by Bishop Griswold. The rectory was completed in 1849, and "was paid for, in large part, with money raised by the exertion of the Ladies' League." Many of us remember the attractive avenue, bordered with greensward and graceful elms, which led to the little brown church and rectory, the retirement of its situation seeming to be suited to its purpose of worship and quietness. The membership was very small at first, but in a few years it became the church home of some of the most influential people on our town. Rev. E.F. Slafter was the first regularly settled rector, assuming his duties September 1846. The beautiful stone edifice erected upon land bequeathed by General William H. Sumner, son of Governor Increase Sumner, was ready for the enlarged church congregation in 1882.

General Sumner's old residence on the hill near the present church is beautiful in situation, and still very attractive.

Near the north corner of Pond Lane was built in 1732, a plain, comfortable house by Benjamin May, great grandson of Captain John May, one of the earliest settlers of our village. Captain John Parker married the daughter of Benjamin May, and afterwards resided here for many years which accounts for its still holding the name of the "Old Parker house." Here were the high-decorated wooden mantels over large chimney-places, the paneled wainscoting and ornamental cornices, which adorned many of the better houses of that period. The grounds were ample, extending to the pond and covered with a variety of fine fruit and shade trees. Now crowded by modern buildings into the background, deprived of its garden gray with weather stains, this old house shows few signs of its birthright. About the middle of this century the small cottage still standing on the lot adjoining the Parker house was the quiet home of two much esteemed old ladies, Mrs. Shepard and her daughter Abby. Miss Abigail P. Shepard died October 4, 1878 at 82 years of age. The mother was then totally blind, but possessed the sweet contentment which not even so great a deprivation and trial could affect. Miss Abby devoted the little front room to a store for small wares, school children's utensils, and candies and it was the delight of the girls and boys to leave their coppers there in exchange for her good things.

Some of you may recall an episode connected with this home which might have had a tragic ending. Because of the unprotected condition, and the drawer in which the small receipts from the store were kept, an unworthy young man, belonging to our village, planned a midnight entrance. Miss Abby heard the window raised, and, in her night robe and cap, faced the intruder, just as he entered the room. She dragged the surprised and struggling man into the front room, and held him fast, meanwhile calling loudly for help. The aged mother secured a window stick and dealt unerring blows upon the youth. After a desperate struggle, he escaped carrying a window frame and many bruises with him, but no money. The neighbors were aroused by Miss Shepard's cries and came to her relief.

We may safely say that not since the days of the Revolution had the midnight silence and peace of the village been disturbed by so exciting an experience. The friends of Miss Shepard presented her with a large, illustrated Bible in appreciation of her courage and bravery.

On the west corner of Pond and Centre streets stands a large mansion house of colonial style, with an air of quiet dignity, in the midst of attractive grounds. In the early days it was called "Linden Hall," doubtless because of the magnificent linden trees which lined the walk to the entrance and shaded the grounds. John Gould erected it in 1755 for his son-in-law Rev. John Troutbeck, assistant rector of King's Chapel, where he officiated for twenty years.

He was an ardent loyalist and returned to England in 1776. As an example of the change in public sentiment with the lapse of time, we learn that this noted clergyman was a distiller as well, of whom a witty rhymster wrote:--

His Sunday aim is to reclaim
Those that in vice are sunk.
When Monday's come he selleth rum,
And gets them plaguey drunk.


This fine estate, extending then in the rear to the pond, was later owned by Mr. Charles W. Greene a descendant of General Nathaniel Greene, of revolutionary war fame. He enlarged the house and large wings, and established a successful boarding and day school for lads fitting many of them for college. Possibly some here may recall that in the school building and the grounds the first Papanti taught some of the parents of the rising generation to dance.

Among the men, since famous, who graduated from this school, are John Lathrop Motley, the historian, and George William Curtis, the elegant writer and able editor. The scenes and characters in Mr. Curtis's novel "Trumps" were drawn from our village. Dr. Randall, of Roxbury, but recently deceased, who bequeathed $70,000 to Harvard University, was early a student at the school, and also the two brothers of Margaret Fuller, one of whom was afterwards a clergyman and a chaplain in the Union Army. Mrs. Greene is referred to in an interesting article recently written by a graduate of the school, as one "for whom no need of praise could scarcely be excessive, as she was in sober truth a mother to every lad committed to her care."

This property was next purchased by the brothers John and George Williams, who resided there for several years.

On the opposite side of Centre Street, near Green Street, can to-day be seen a two-story cottage, with pointed roofs and dormer windows which in our day has been known as the Calvin Young house. This building with its fresh paint and modern style can yet trace its history through a century and a half of years. It was originally owned by Eleazer May who sold it in 1740 to Benjamin Faneuil, nephew of Peter Faneuil, and in 1760 it became the property of his brother-in-law Benjamin Pemberton.

We may readily believe that Peter Faneuil -- the Huguenot who in 1740 erected and gave to the town of Boston the noted hall which bears his name -- often shared in the comforts and joys of this home of his niece, Mrs. Susanna Pemberton. About the year 1802, this estate was purchased by Dr. John C. Warren, son of Dr. John Warren, and nephew of General Joseph Warren, hero of Bunker Hill, for a summer residence. He was one of the most distinguished surgeons of our country, and for many years professor of anatomy and surgery at the Harvard Medical School. His name was honored in the recent ether celebration, he having performed the first surgical operation under ether in 1846, and to his sanction it owed its introduction throughout America and Europe.

The dwelling was at that time constructed after the West Indian style, with one and a half front and two in the rear. An immense chimney buttressed the north side; a hall extended through the center of the house, with doors opening on to piazzas at both ends; the windows in the front rooms extended to the floor, all conducing to make it an ideal summer home. The elm, linden, and horse-chestnut trees near the house were remarkable for size and symmetry.

Dr. Warren beautified the grounds with rare plants and shrubs imported from Europe; they extended over many acres, including the present Hill, Parley Vale, Burrage, and Harris estates, and to the line of the Providence Railroad. Captain Charles Hill purchased a portion of this estate about the year 1830, and Mr. Calvin Young the residence in 1837, with the radical alterations in the house, which are apparent to-day, were made.

About the year 1828, the Warren estate became the property of Samuel G. Goodrich, author of many histories, books of travel, school and story books, the kindly, well-loved Peter Parley of our childhood. What a delight it would be to welcome once more the monthly visit of "Merry Museum and Parley's Magazine," to read the charming letters to "Billy Bump," and the adventures of Gilbert Go Ahead, and puzzle out the charades and enigmas which tested out youthful wits! It was Mr. Goodrich who cut the fine avenue through the ledges and woodland, and erected the ample mansion in the grove, which later, because of financial embarrassment, he transferred to Colonel Fessenden, and ultimately became the property of Mr. Abram French. Then it was that Mr. Goodrich enlarged and improved the building which had been his gardener's cottage, among the quaint and unique house now owned by Mr. George Harris. Here he resided for several years, accomplishing a large amount of literary work, which repaired his fortune, so that on his return from Paris, where he was United States Ambassador, under President Fillmore, he purchased a country-seat in Jube's Lane, now Forest Hills Street. Mr. Goodrich was in Paris at the time of the abdication of Louis Philippe, was an intimate friend of M. Lamartine, and was of great service through his wise diplomacy. Many of his works were afterwards translated into French by M. de Boisson. While a resident here he was interested in local affairs, and was genial in his relations with every one. It is related that on an occasion of a Fourth of July celebration, he gave an after dinner toast, "To the ladies of Jamaica Plain, not so very plain either!"

Here we are tempted to linger for a little longer. We may not be permitted to enter within the precincts of many of the old homes on our town, to view the veritable memorials and relics of early days, but such has been the privilege of some of us in connection with the Harris home. Through many generations of education and culture, treasures in books and music and pictures, in furniture, plate, and china, have been collected and preserved, until the home has become verily a museum of rare and beautiful works, whose possessor is eminently suited to these delightful surroundings.

Nor can we fail to offer an appreciative and loving tribute to the two sisters who have long been among our most learned and accomplished women, and have exemplified through their long lives the quiet beauty and loveliness of true charity. The beautiful hill with the adjacent vale now occupied by the estates of Mrs. Hook, Mrs. Pratt, and Mr. and Mrs. Charles F. Sprague, was in the early days the Harris homestead. Here Dr. Luther M. Harris, the father, was born. Some of us remember his as the valued family physician, who, when burdened with the infirmities of age, gave up his practice to Dr. George Faulkner.

One of the most interesting and attractive of the ancestral homes still standing, in this vicinity, is the Greenough mansion, finely situated on the curve of Centre and South streets. It has an air of dignity and spaciousness which many a more portentous modern country-seat fail to match. Although it has been home to five generations of the Greenough family, -- since about the year 1780, -- its history antedates their ownership by many years. This estate was originally of royal dimensions, covering about one hundred acres, and belonged to John Polley. In 1752, it was purchased by Commodore Joshua Loring, one of the Tory gentry, who a few years later built the present house (1758), the frame having been brought from England. Commodore Loring was a native of Roxbury and did gallant service in the British navy, in the campaigns against Canada. He was severely wounded at the siege of Quebec while in command on Lake Ontario, and was retired on half pay when he came to live here. Although probably at heart in sympathy with those who resisted the injustice of the English government, for personal reasons he adhered to the royal cause, and, on the morning of the battle of Lexington, he left his home and everything belonging to it, and mounting his horse, "with pistol in hand, rode at full speed to Boston." He never returned, but sailing to England soon after settled in Highgate. During the siege of Boston this house was the headquarters of General Greene, and has the honor of having been visited by General George Washington. Colonel David Henley, who had charge of Burgoyne's captive army while at Cambridge, also occupied this house at one time. For a while, it was converted into a hospital for the Roxbury Camp, and some fifty of the soldiers who died here were buried on the grounds, near where the Hillside schoolhouse now stands. The remains have since been removed to the old burial ground on Walter Street. This property also was confiscated, by order of the General Court of April 30, 1779, and was then purchased by Colonel Isaac Sears, a successful Boston merchant, who had been one of the most active and zealous of the Sons of Liberty, and a member of the Provincial Congress. Soon after (in 1784) it became property of the first David Stoddard Greenough, son of Thomas Greenough, who had been a member of the Committee of Correspondence in the Revolution.

It was in 1769 that the first church in our village was built, upon land given by Eliot, -- on the site of the present stone edifice, -- and names the Third Parish, from its relation to the First Parish on Dudley Street and the Second or Upper Parish on Walter Street. And it was to Mrs. Susanna, wife of Benjamin Pemberton, that it owed its origin. The distance from the other churches, and consequent inconvenience of regular attendance, led her to desire a nearer church home. She proposed to her husband, who possessed large means and had no children or near relations, that they should erect a house of worship, principally at their own expense. He heartily engaged on the project, "and in the course of a year the house was completed, with thirty-four square pews, and three long seats for the poor on each side the broad aisle nest the pulpit on the ground floor. There were five narrow long pews [for the colored people, several of them slaves] in the front gallery against the wall, and long seats for the singers below.[7]"

The Rev. William Gordon, a Scotchman by birth, entered upon his duties as first pastor, July 6, 1772. A few months later Mr. Pemberton conveyed to the parish the house which had been removed from Commodore Loring's estate to the site now occupied by Mrs. Dr. Weld's house, next to the church for a parsonage. It was occupied by Mr. Gordon during the remainder of his pastorate, and by Dr. Thomas Gray, the second pastor, for sixty years.[8] In 1851 the old house was moved to South Street, and later to Keyes Street, where it still stands. On account of a disagreement with Dr. Gordon, Mr. Pemberton altered his will, in which he had first bequeathed all of his property to this parish "for the support of his future pastors," and left it "in trust for the benefit of the poor of the town of Boston;" and the income of the fund is still used for this specific purpose. Pemberton Square, once lined with many of the fine residences in Boston, and now the site of our new court-house, honors his name.

The first bell on the old church was presented by Governor John Hancock, in 1783, then a resident here, and bore the inscription, "Thomas Lester, of London, made me, 1742." We can readily appreciate the happiness of the people when first called to their house of worship by the voice of this bell, and can weave threads of joy and of sadness around its echoes, In 1852 this old church was dismantled of its spire and removed to the site of the present Eliot Hall. It was subsequently destroyed by fire. While the stone edifice was being erected the congregation occupied the Baptist Church one half of the Sabbath.

We find Dr. William Gordon a very interesting character of the strict Puritan type. In a word-picture drawn by a friend, we see him commissioned by Congress to secure Governor Hutchinson's Letter-books, "as he ambled on his gentle bay horse, in his short breeches and buckled shoes, his reverend wig and three-cornered hat, worthy the spirit of a native-born patriot." It may not be amiss to add that will all Dr. Gordon's admirable characteristics, his faithful work as a minister, his active interest in the cause of American liberty, his unwavering adherence to his convictions as an opponent to the slave trade, and a champion of the Negro, he frequently lacked prudence and good judgment in speech and action. It was because of his severe and public criticism of John Hancock that the governor gave up his summer residence here; it was because of his attack upon the proposed Constitution of Massachusetts, in 1778, that he was summarily dismissed from his office of chaplain in both houses of the Legislature. There is a tradition that the Doctor was somewhat strict and severe in his requirements of the young catechists, and on occasions he resorted to the birch to enforce his teachings. "After punishing several of them one winter day, his feet slipped as he stepped from the icy threshold of the school, and he fell at full length, his hat and wig rolling off his head. There-upon the boys shouted in high glee, and gave three cheers." The rod gave place to persuasion after that experience.

The little cemetery in the rear of the church was consecrated in 1785. A quiet walk through this "garden of the dead" is full of interest, awakening memories as association of the past. There are twenty-four tombs and many graves upon whose ancient, moss-covered headstones we trace familiar names and some unusual epitaphs. The tombs of Dr., Thomas Gray and the Greenough family, side by side, are particularly noticeable, as, unlike the others, they have a large bull's-eye of ground glass inserted in the doors, evidently to admit light into "the chamber of death." Very few interments have been made there since the consecration of Forest Hills Cemetery in 1848. Upon the small triangular lot at the junction of Centre and South Streets the first schoolhouse in our village was erected in 1676. The land was the gift of John Ruggles, and John Eliot and Hugh Thomas were the principal benefactors of the school. In the early days this spot was the municipal center of our town; and here, in 1871, was dedicated our beautiful Soldiers' Monument, in affectionate, grateful remembrance of our heroic dead, who gave their lives in the service of their country during the Rebellion (1861-65). Eliot Street was opened to Pond Street in 1800, and at the corner still stands an old milestone, inscribed: "Five miles to Boston Town House, 1735. P. Dudley."

The Eliot School was incorporated in 1804, and later, January 17,1832, the brick building was dedicated which now stands on Eliot Street in the center of ample grounds.

Within a few months we have witnesses with feelings of regretful interest the decay and removal of the old house known to us as the Nathaniel Curtis homestead. This estate once belonged to Dr. Lemuel Hayward, a physician of high repute, and one of the first to practice inoculation for small-pox in this vicinity. He practiced medicine here for several years. About the year 1780, John Hancock, after he resigned the presidency of Congress, purchased this place of Dr. Hayward for his summer residence. He paid for it seven or eight shares in Long Wharf property, amounting then in all to about $400, but at the time of Dr. Hayward's decease, in 1821, valued at $100,000, -- a striking evidence of growth and financial prosperity in less then fifty years. We learn that the house was, like many of that period, one story and a half in height, covering much space on the ground, and shaded by fine linden-trees. We love to tarry here and do grateful honor to this first governor of our new State, who, during our country's struggles for freedom, was one of the most fearless opposers of British tyranny, one of the most active patriots, and the first signer of the Declaration of Independence. He was of fine, dignified presence, six feet in height, with a very handsome face and gracious manners. In public speaking he was eloquent, graceful and accomplished, and plainly formed by nature to act a brilliant part in the affairs of his time. According to the customs of that period with men of fortune, his apparel was very elaborate and costly, of velvet and satin, embroidered with gold and silver lace. "His equipage was splendid, and public occasions he rode with six beautiful bay horses and attended by servants in livery." Much of his large fortune was spent for benevolent and useful purposes, Harvard College coming in for a share. In the year 1800, Thomas Hancock, nephew of the Governor, built the house which has recently been destroyed, and resided here until 1819, when the estate was purchased by Mr. Nathaniel Curtis, fifth in descent from the first William Curtis. He was a merchant of Boston, highly esteemed, and filled various positions of trust on our town. He resided here during the remainder of his life, a period of thirty-eight years, and died in 1857. He married for his second wife the widow Leeds, who at the time was living in the old Stephen Brewer house, still standing at the end of Thomas Street, and which was afterwards for several years the home of Mr. William D. Ticknor, of the publishing house of Ticknor & Fields. Mrs. Curtis lived in the old house for many years after her husband's death, until we missed the gentle, sweet face, and the kindly, cordial greetings -- and the home was desolate.

More that two hundred and fifty years have passed since the first John May, master of a vessel, came from Mayfield, in Sussex, England, and became a resident of Jamaica Plain, and the ancestor of the many who bear the name of May in this country. In 1650 the old house on May's Lane was built by Mr. Bridge, and since 1771 it has been owned and occupied by the direct descendents of John May. It has always been a typical New England fruit farm, noted for the fine quality of its cherries, peaches, pears, apples, and berries of various kinds. In the early days it covered many acres, including the beautiful hill now occupied by the fine estates of the Bowditch family and others, and the lowlands, extending north and east to Pond and Eliot Streets. During the siege of Boston, the house was given up to soldiers for barracks. Captain Lemuel May was one of the minute-men who responded to the reveille at the break of day on the 19th of April, 1775, and fought valiantly for his country at Lexington and Concord. This house, of the seventeenth-century pattern, has maintained its original features until very recently, carefully preserved from any sign of neglect or decay. Possibly a hasty view of the interior of the old homestead will interest us. Entering by the front porch, we find the small, square entry open through narrow doorways into low studded, irregular shaped rooms, with overhead and corner beams and wainscoted sides, triangular cupboards and dressers and convenient little shelves. There are high wooden mantels adorned with specimens of antique china and brasses over the large bricked fireplaces. In one room an iron crane with kettles suspended on chains, swings over the fire-dogs piled with logs, and on both sides hang quaint domestic utensils. The narrow stairway, from the little entry, had a halfway landing to economize space, and leads to cozy apartments above, all interesting for their antique furniture and family relics.

And now a glance at the old square barn east of the house and more pretentious in size than the dwelling, with wide doors opening at both ends, and lofts stacked with fragrant hay. This is the comfortable home of faithful horses and gentle kine, who looked from their stalls and stanchions on the youths and maidens who often made the walls resound with their merriment and they were borne quickly past in the old swing hanging from the creaking rafters.

The well-curb, with its long sweep and old oaken bucket, brings memories, to some of us, of refreshing droughts of pure water, and of delicious cream and butter rolls, which the moss-covered stone shelves far down the well held securely from possible taint. Back of the house ran the babbling brook and emptied into "the ditch," which was often broad and deep enough to merit a more comely name, and was the favorite resort of the young in winter for skating and sledding. But this ancestral home, with all its charms, had passed from view, like many others, leaving but cherished memories.

Captain Charles Brewer, whose fine estate on Pond Street was originally a part of the May form, was a lineal descendant of Captain John May, on his mother's side. He was born in Boston in 1804, and received his education there, but early developed a fondness for the sea, and for several years was a successful ship-master in the Pacific and East India trade. In 1836 he established a shipping business in Honolulu, and in 1846 returned with his family to this country, and became a resident of Jamaica Plain.[9] Soon after he erected the commodious mansion in the midst of highly cultivated grounds, which was his home during the remainder of his life.

Mr. Edward Bridge was one of the earliest settlers of the town, and it is believed that he built the house, which has recently been taken down by the Park Commission, near the corner of Centre and May Streets. The date 1710 was found cut into one of the old timbers, which is still preserved.

Mr. Abijah Seaverns, grandfather of our townsman, resided here with his family for many years. The original Seaverns homestead, owned by Mr. Joel Seaverns, the ancestor of the family, was upon a farm of some fifty-five acres, now included in Forest Hills Cemetery. In this old house, during the later years of Mrs. Abijah Seaverns' life, a small band of the Baptist faith met frequently for religious meetings, and in 1840 took steps to form a church. Soon after they began to worship in the Village Hall, and in 1842 the public services of their recognition were held in the Unitarian Church, in which Rev. Mr. Gray then ministered. On October 4, 1843, the new house of worship was dedicated, and on the same day Dr. John O. Choules, an Englishman, was installed as pastor. The little church stood on elevated ground on the east side of Centre Street near Star Lane. On September 26, 1856, the church was destroyed by fire, with its furniture, library, and records. For two years the congregation used the Unitarian house of worship one half of the Sabbath, and the Mather (now Central) Church for evening meetings, accepting the very kind invitations which came from both societies while the fire was still burning. In August 1859, the present house of worship on the corner of Centre and Myrtle streets was dedicated.

Following May Street to Pond Street, we come to the beautiful estate now owned by Mr. Edward Rice, and formerly by Mr. John J. Low, and here ready fancy rears again the vanished walls of a stately mansion, three stories in height, first occupied by another of the Tory gentry, Sir Francis Barnard, the Royal Governor of Massachusetts from 1760 to 1769, -- the period of our greatest historic interest. The beautiful sloping lawn, shaded with lofty English elms, gave a charming setting to the house, while broad acres highly cultivated, filled with choice fruit trees, plants, and shrubs, including orange, lemon, fig, cork, and cinnamon trees, and other rare exotics, added grandeur and beauty to the landscape. One can easily call back the old-time scenes within this mansion, of stately official pomp, of social gayety, of dinners and balls, where the brocade and stain and lace, in towering head-gear, and ample panniers; and where the cavaliers rivaled the ladies in their powered wigs, gorgeous velvet coats and stain waistcoats, ruffled shirt-fronts, small breeches and silken hose. We catch a glimpse of them as they troop through the broad hall (fifty-four feet long and twenty feet wide), and the wainscoted tapestried rooms, on the stately minuet or the livelier contra-dances, and possibly recognize the forms and faces of Adams, Hancock, Otis, Warren, and Quincy. Governor Barnard was an Englishman, a graduate of Oxford, a man of erudition and large wealth. He had remarkable conversational powers, and so tenacious a memory that he boasted he could repeat all of Shakespeare's plays. He was a zealous advocate of the claims of the Crown, and through professing to sympathize with the men associated with him in their resistance to unjust taxation, and other coercive measures to the royal government, he secretly worked against them, and used his influence to have the British regiments sent to Boston, and thus initiated the war. After holding his high office for nearly ten years, he was recalled to England, in response to a petition from the House of Representatives that "he might be forever removed from the Government of the Province." As he departed from Boston the bells were rung, cannon fired from the wharves, and the Liberty Tree hung gaily with flags; so great was to joy of the people to be rid of him. Lady Bernard did not leave Jamaica Plain until a year later -- in 1770. Sir William Pepperell was the next resident of this house for about three years. He was a graduate of Harvard, and, in 1776, became a member of the Council, and was avowedly in sympathy with the royal cause. During the siege this house was also occupied by the patriotic troops, and later used as a hospital. The soldiers who died here were buried on the hill in the rear of the house. This property was confiscated in 1779 by the State, and purchased by Mr. Martin Brimmer, a Boston merchant, who died here in 1804. Captain John Prince next owned it, and took down the old house, a part of which had stood one hundred and forty years, and erected a very attractive mansion which has recently given place to the one now occupied by Mr. Rice. Mr. Prince opened the street, which bears his name through his estate to Perkins Street, and it has since been the seat of several beautiful residences.

The summer home of Francis Parkman, LL.D., on Prince Street, deserves more than passing notice, not only because of his great prominence as an historian and writer an scientific horticulture, but for the remarkable beauty of the grounds lying along the shores of the lake and covered with luxuriant and rare shrubs, trees, and plants, many of them models of symmetry and loveliness. One cannot but regret that this homestead had not been preserved in its completeness, as a memorial of this distinguished man.

The old Jonas Chickering estate adjoining Mr. Parkman's, with its lovely water-front, its unique Gothic buildings, its vine-covered lodge, and its deer-park, was, in our early days, one of the most charming of our country-seats.

Pinebank, the home of the Perkins family for nearly a century, with its broad, winding avenue, beneath noble pine and larches, its stately mansion and its many rich landscape features, claims admiration for its grandeur and nobility.[10]

Returning to South Street, we find that in early days different branches of the Weld family owned and lived upon estates in this portion of our village. The largest and most important of these was the estate which was given to Captain Joseph Weld by the province, about the year 1660, in consideration of services rendered. It was bequeathed by him to his son, John, and was the home of seven generations of that family, until about the beginning of this century (1806), when it became the property of Mr. Benjamin Bussey. During the Revolutionary War, Weld's Hill was selected by Washington as a rallying point for the patriot army to fall back upon in case of disaster, as it protected the road to Dedham, the depot of army supplies. Mr. Bussey, after a few years, erected the fine mansion, still standing, and resided here until his death, in 1842. The late Mr. Thomas Motley, brother of the historian, was the husband of one of Mr. Bussey's granddaughters, and occupied the house with his family until his decease. This magnificent estate of three hundred acres was bequeathed to Harvard University for the establishment of a seminary "for instruction in practical agriculture, useful and ornamental gardening, botany, and such other branches of natural science as may tend to promote a knowledge of practical agriculture and the various arts subservient thereto and connected therewith." The Bussey Institute was built in 1871, and the beautiful Arboretum, embracing one hundred and sixty acres, has been in the process of development since that time. During Mr. Bussey's life, and for years after, the public enjoyed the freedom of these charming grounds. There were lovely wood paths, carefully kept, in all directions. Here was a rustic bridge spanning the jocund brook; there a willow-bordered pond, the home of gold and silver fish. This path wound back and forth to the summit of Hemlock Mountain, where was an arbor with seats for resting surrounded by majestic trees, and where lovely vistas of the distant hills and nearer valley could be enjoyed, On the gray rocks yonder were nature's moss-clad seats, where one listened to the endless whispering of the leaves, the prattle of the happy brook below, and the ever-changing songs of birds.

Up springs, at every step, to claim a tear,
Some little friendship formed in childhood here;
And not the lightest leaf but trembling teems,
With golden visions and romantic dreams.


Mr. Bussey's life is a remarkable illustration of the success, which results from natural ability and persevering industry. With very small pecuniary means in early life, he made the most of every condition and advantage, and ultimately acquired large wealth and influence. Possibly some here may remember the family coach, with its yellow body and trimmings, drawn by four fine horses, in which Mr. Bussey and his family rode to church each Sabbath. There is a pleasing tradition that the old gentleman had the unusual but very gracious habit of bowing to people near him on all sides in the church before taking his seat in the square pew. On the occasion of President Andrew Jackson's visit to Boston, accompanied by Vice-President Van Buren, in June 1833, Mr. Bussey joined the grand procession in his yellow coach, drawn by six horses, richly caparisoned, and attended by liveried servants.

On the opposite side of South Street one sees the very attractive house known to us as the Peters homestead, which, in 1799, was built by Captain William Gordon Weld. About three years after making this home, Captain Weld was lost at sea, leaving his widow, who was a sister of Judge William Minot, with a large family of sons and daughters, who have been very prominent in the interests and development of our town. Mrs. Weld is remembered with great respect and admiration for her character and life work. She lived to a great age, happy in the prosperity and the loving devotion of her children. We recall the beautiful and touching scene when her form was carried on the bier by her noble sons, followed by the other mourners, all walking from her house to the family tomb in the little church cemetery, and lovingly laid at rest, without the touch of a stranger hand.

Soon after Captain William Weld's death, the estate was purchased by a Mr. Wilson, who resided here for a few years, Mr. Horatio Greenough, the sculptor, also lived here when young, and it is believed that he took his first lessons in art of Binon, the French sculptor, in this house, In 1829 Mr. Edward Peters purchased it for a summer residence, and it is still occupied by his descendants. This house is the finest specimen of the West Indian style in the vicinity. Stony Brook runs through the dell back of the garden, with a line of fine old oaks and butternut-trees on its banks. Years since, when trenching the land, the smooth bed of the broad Stony River was reached, into which some of the large trees had fallen and lain imbedded in the mud, well preserved. A perfect beaver dam was also discovered there, and marks of beavers' teeth on some of the trees. Various Indian relics have been unearthed in different parts of the place.

About the year 1827, Mr. Stephen M. Weld, son of Captain William G. Weld, established a boarding-school for young men on the site of the present residence of his family, the corner of South and Centre streets, which was very successful during thirty years, pupils coming from many of the States and from Mexico, Cuba, and Yucatan. Weld Hall, connected with Harvard College, was erected by William F. Weld, in memory of his brother Stephen Minot Weld. Dr. Christopher Weld, another son of Captain Weld, was the first homoeopathic physician here, and was much esteemed and beloved during his long practice.

Upon the site of the present Seaverns mansion, on Morton Street, near Washington Street, stood the old house of the gifted and scholarly Margaret Fuller between the years 1839 and 1842. Her father had died a short time before, and her mother, sister (the late Mrs. Walter Channing), and two brothers made with her the household. In this quiet, rural home, Margaret found time and inspiration for many of her charming outdoors sketches. She often wandered through the lovely walks in Bussey Woods, soft with fallen needles from pine and hemlock, and bright with abundant wild flowers, and drew glowing pictures from nature's wealth, which her pen has preserved for us. It was while living here she inaugurated the literary conversations, which produced such a marked effect upon the young and old of the women of the time. There were weekly meetings for free conversation on literary and aesthetic topics at which she was the principal talker. They began in the autumn of 1839 at the home of Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody, on West Street, Boston, and continued through five successive winters. It was also while here that she edited "The Dial," a quarterly journal, in which she was aided by Ralph Waldo Emerson, Theodore Parker, George Ripley, and others. In this old house Ralph Waldo Emerson boarded for a time with a Mrs. Tilden, who afterward had a young ladies' boarding school at the Cold Spring House on Washington Street, opposite Green Street. In Franklin Park, on Schoolmaster's Hill, may now be seen a bronze tablet, inserted in a boulder, which records the fact that Mr. Emerson lived in a farmhouse on that spot for two years, from 1823 to 1825. The home of Rev, James Freeman Clarke, D. D., on Hillside Avenue, has a lasting interest, because of the noble, beautiful souls who thought and worked there, and gave by spoken and written words strength and counsel and comfort to many.

Returning to Centre Street, we pass south from Eliot Street, and look with interest upon the old Williams house, a commodious, square building with central porch and balustrade along the roofline, built in 1805 by Stephen Gorham, a Boston merchant. It was for many years the attractive home of Mr. Moses Williams and family and is still in their possession.

The old Hallet, Seaverns, Balch, and Louder homes, all suggest interesting and valuable memories, which we would gladly record did our limits permit. But we are tempted to spare a few moments for a stroll through Louder's Lane. Many times have we proved the truth of Young's words: "How blessing brighten as they take their flight!" and they ring in our hearts to-day as we wander into this picturesque old way; and we love even more dearly than of yore the quiet, the grassy sides, the wild growths of roses and blackberry-bushes, the tangle of ivy and woodbine, and the lovely vistas through leafy framings of sunny hillsides and woods, of pastures dotted with grazing cattle, and of peaceful farm homes. It is a country idyll, sweet and restful! We may slacken our horses reins while he crops the wayside grass, or we may sit on a fallen stone from the old wall, while we muse of early days when there was no turnstile to block our path, but we should wander on around the loops of Sargent's woods, and gather at will the blue and white violets, the anemones and columbines and cowslips, without a fear of brass-buttoned monitor or coasting wheelman.

We see again the dignified form of Manlius Sargent in his stately horse, as he rode through his wood-roads, and many another familiar face of those who sought these rural paths, and cared not yet for "rapid transit," with its spectral accompaniments. And our hope is akin to a prayer, that what is left of Louder's Lane may be spared to us yet many years.

The old Winchester house, on the hillside of Centre Street, was built in the year 1800 by Captain Artemas Winchester, grandfather of the third Artemas, now residing here, for his young bride, Miss Anna Fuller, and it was their home through their long lives.

In early days, whenever a new dwelling was begun, the neighborhood volunteered their services, prepared and stoned the cellar and well, often giving days of labor to help on the work. Then at the time of raising the house, as in the case of the Winchester dwelling, -- an unusually fine one for the times, -- the relatives and friends came from near and far to show their kindly interest and enjoy the tempting and bounteous collation.

This farm originally belonged to Mr. John Morey, who in 1771 presented the clock, which for many years ornamented the front gallery of the First Church, and is to-day faithfully meeting its duties in the Parish House.

Greenbank, a quiet old home overlooking the Arboretum, holds among its treasures a record of a few years, when Rev. William Ware lived there, after resigning his ministry in New York and wrote those remarkable works, "Zenobia" and "Probus." Mr. Ware was a man of great learning. of classical culture, and elegant accomplishments. His mind was a gallery of pictures which he portrayed in his writings for the profit and delight of others. Dr. Bellows, in his memorial sermon of Dr. Ware, writes of these books: "The evinced talents, resources, and tastes, which could not be traced to any known writer, while they seemed wholly beyond the reach of any unknown one."

On the corner of Allandale Street and Centre Street, Peacock Tavern stood a century ago. It was kept by Captain Lemuel Child, distinguished for having led the Minute Company of the Third Parish in the battle of Lexington. This tavern was a somewhat noted resort at that time, being on the direct highway from Boston to Dedham and Providence, a stopping-place for travelers and stages and factory teams. We learn that when the British officers were in Boston they frequently made up sleighing and skating parties, and after exercising on the pond, came to "The Peacock" for their late suppers. Doubtless Generals Gage and Burgoyne indulged in bumpers there, to help their drooping spirits. The records state that during the siege of Boston, Generals Washington and Knox and other distinguished officers were frequent visitors, the former stopping on his way to New York after the evacuation of Boston. In May 1794, Samuel Adams, the grand old patriot, purchased "The Peacock" tavern and forty acres of land, and resided here during his term as governor, and during the remainder of his life made it his summer residence. We are proud to add this name to our list of honorable and distinguished men. It stands inseparably with Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, and Hancock, and they form together the brightest constellation which illumes the Revolutionary annals of our country![11]

Some of the most apparent and pleasant indications of growth and progress in our town have been the establishment, from time to time, of the churches, which represent the faith and worship of our people, the erection of the commodious school buildings, and the various charitable institutions. Strongly as we cling to much that makes the past dear to us, we rejoice in all that is making this the golden age of our country.

Within the limits given, it is impossible to review all of the homes and characters which have left their impress on our village and made it worthy to be a part of the admitted "Athens of America." A long line of names comes at memory's call in the various walks of life, -- clergymen, authors, teachers, physicians, lawyers, and merchants, men and women whom we delight to honor.

They hurry from out the forgotten past,
Through the gathered mist of years,
From the halls of memory, dim and vast,
Where they have buried lain in the shadows cast
By recent joys or fears.


More than three hundred years ago the poet Drummond wrote: "It is a great spur to virtue to look back on the worth of our line. In this is the memory of the dead preserved with the living, being more firm and honorable that an epitaph, and the living know that band that tieth them to others."

Footnotes
1. The Jamaica Plain Aqueduct Company was incorporated in 1795, and was the first systematic water system that the city of Boston had. It extended from the Pond to Fort Hill, and had about forty-five miles of pipes, made of white pine logs, nearly a foot and one half in diameter, with a bore of five and three quarters inches. The average daily supply was about 400,000 gallons. In excavating for the Subway, several specimens of the old wooden pipes have been unearthed in a good state of preservation. -- From a recent number of the Boston Transcript.

2. The first dwelling, built in 1633, was a simple log house, and was burned three or four years later.

3. An historical sketch of the First Church in Roxbury, by Dr. De Normandie.

4. One of the old omnibuses was very long, and named Osceola, for an Indian chief, a representation of whom was painted on the side.

5. At the time to which we refer, postage was regulated by distance. Thus, 6 1/4, 12 1/2, 16 3/4, and even 25 cents, were sometimes necessary.

6. For the origin of this peculiar name, see the incident that gave rise to it described in Drake's Town of Roxbury.

7. Dr. Thomas Gray's Half-Century Sermon.

8. Dr. Thomas Gray was born in Boston, March 16 1772, and graduated at Harvard College in 1790. He married a daughter of Rev. Samuel Stillman, D., pastor of the First Baptist Church in Boston, by whom he was prepared for the ministry, and entered the pastorate at Jamaica Plain, April 22, 1792.

9. His mother, Mrs. Abigail May, widow of Moses Brewer, was then living in the old homestead, and died April 24, 1849, aged 80 years.

10. Perkins Street, known in early days as Connecticut Lane, was named for William Perkins, who came to Roxbury in 1632.

11. Within our recollection, a very small, old house, on the opposite side of the street, almost hidden from view by shrubbery and trees, was the humble home of old Simeon Giles, a Negro, who made a precarious living by wood-chopping and like service for the neighbors. He was the son of old Peter, who was a slave of Governor Adams, valued and kindly treated, and who lived to number one hundred years. Long, long ago their tired bodies were laid at rest in the little graveyard on the hill.

Copyright 1897
Harriet Manning Whitcomb
All rights reserved.

Baseball in Jamaica Plain

The beginnings of baseball in Boston, and its first connection to Jamaica Plain, are found with Harry Wright and his brother George. The Wrights were born in England and had been cricket players until switching to baseball when they came to America to begin careers in baseball. Harry played and managed the Cincinnati Red Stockings, the first professional baseball team, to a run of 76 consecutive victories in 1870. When the players there asked for more money and attendance faltered after finally losing to the Brooklyn team, the Cincinnati team disbanded. Harry then came to Boston in 1871 and, with his brother George, co-founded the Boston Red Stockings. These Red Stockings would later become the Boston Braves.

Harry lived at 7 New Heath Street, just a short distance from the Huntington Avenue grounds where the Red Stockings played. There’s an existing plaque at the Huntington Avenue grounds, and a statue to Cy Young at the old pitcher’s mound there.

The Red Stockings came in second place in 1871, their first year in the National League. Then they won the championship in 1872, ‘73, ‘74 and ‘75. Wright’s four consecutive years of winning essentially taught the whole country how to play baseball!

The star pitcher of the Red Stockings during those winning years was Albert Goodwill Spalding. Spalding pitched and won 56 games in the ‘75 season. In 1876 he jumped to Chicago for more money and he was a star there too! He then became manager and co-owner of the Chicago Whitestockings. We’ll hear more about Albert G. Spalding later.

In 1876 we find Harry Wright listed on Pond Street. He apparently lived there only one year because we next find him at 1 Highland Park Avenue, Roxbury, which is gone now. He then moved to 9 Highland Park Avenue, which still exists as a nice row house with a beautiful view overlooking the Stony Brook Valley. Thus, since Wright was an early inductee to the Baseball Hall of Fame as the founder of professional baseball, and the person responsible for nearly half the game’s concepts of play that exist today, Jamaica Plain can rightfully share bragging rights, along with Cincinnati, to this great baseball icon.

Even more intriguing than the Jamaica Plain connection to one of the co-founders of professional baseball is the little known fact that baseballs were manufactured here. This is documented in 1869 and 1870 advertisements we’ve found for baseballs made by one L.H. Mahn with a Jamaica Plain, Mass., PO Box given for the source of the “Mahn Dead Ball.”

Louis Mahn perfected the manufacture of a good “standard” baseball. Up to that time baseballs were very expensive and only one was used for the entire game no matter how beat-up it became during the game. It was then awarded to the winning team as sort of a trophy. Since there were no standards, the early balls varied widely, resulting in significant differences in pitching and hitting results. For a time, each side used their own ball for their half inning.


american-baseball.jpg 

A tag from the Hamilton Web company based in Wickford, Rhode Island, and addressed to L.H. Mahn, American Baseball Company. The tag was found at 1 Marlou Terrace and was once attached to raw materials used to make baseballs. Image provided courtesy of  Herb and Mary Nolan.

Mahn’s standardized ball was developed under a March 21, 1872 patent that he bought from a John Osgood. The ball was built in two hemispherical sections and sewn together with an interlocking double herringbone stitch in a figure eight loop, so that if one stitch broke, the whole ball didn’t unravel. Mahn manufactured the first balls at 39 Green Street starting in 1874. 39 Green Street is a private residence now.

Mahn never owned the building at 39 Green Street. He rented it while residing as a tenant in one side of the house next door at 33-35 Green Street, owned by George Williams. 39 Green Street was built later on the lot adjacent to 33-35, that was also owned by Williams. The tax records of that era showed not only the owner, but also tenants and functional uses of taxed properties. Thus for 1874 and 1875 we find 39 Green Street taxed as a house, stable and baseball factory with Louis Mahn listed as the tenant. Prior to that, in 1871-1873, it was listed as just the house and stable, so we can conclude that 39 Green was purpose-built as a baseball factory.

After 1875 Louis Mahn disappears from Green Street and buys his own house on a plot on Lamartine Street in the area of Cheshire Street and Chestnut Avenue. Mahn ultimately owned six buildings at this location. The two buildings fronting on Lamartine Street are numbers 307 and 311 Lamartine. There were four buildings in the rear, one of which was a stable and another taxed as a baseball factory.

Since all six buildings on Mahn’s plot were built at about the same time, it is difficult to determine which of the existing buildings there now was the baseball factory. It was most likely the building located on Marlou Terrace which is located on the left of 307 Lamartine. It is speculated that Marlou Terrace got its name from the contraction of Marie and Louis Mahn’s first names. Marie F. Mahn has been verified as Louis’ wife.

So now we might ask why Mahn stopped making baseballs on Green Street and moved to Lamartine where he bought land and built five buildings in addition to the one already there? The evolving history of baseball at the time may shed some light on this.

In 1876, when Mahn moved from Green to Lamartine Street, he sold the patent for the Louis Mahn baseball to Albert G. Spalding. Spalding wanted to get into baseball equipment and sporting goods in general. He bought Mahn’s patent, and since he, Spalding, was the co-founder of the National League in 1876, he was able to manipulate the league to get an exclusive monopoly on supplying Spalding (Mahn) baseballs to the National League. This created a great increase of business for Mahn, so he had to move to the larger quarters that he built on Lamartine Street. Spalding later formed the well-known sporting goods firm of the same name in Chicopee, Massachusetts.

Harry Wright, Louis Mahn, and a fellow named George Howland - sometimes called Holland - were partners in a baseball retail store on Washington Street at the corner of Kneeland Street. Known as Wright, Howland, & Mahn, sellers of baseball goods, they continued in 1878 to ‘79. They then vacated 30 Kneeland Street and moved to 765 Washington Street in 1880 and ‘81.

In 1881, with the Red Stockings fading, Harry and George Wright moved to Providence, Rhode Island, where they co-managed the Providence Grays.

Louis Mahn was still manufacturing baseballs all the way up through 1883 and ‘84. He disappears from the city directories in ‘1885, ‘86, ‘87, and then reappears in Boston, in 1888; but not manufacturing baseballs any more, according to that year’s Directory. We know, however, that following his baseball-manufacturing career he went to work for a cash conveyance system company. You remember those pneumatic tube systems that carried your cash in a brass cylinder, with a big WHOOSH, to the main office and then sent back your change and a receipt? (Jordan’s, Filene’s, Gilchrist’s etc. all had them.) Mahn worked for the largest company in that field, Lansom Company; headquartered in Boston, as an executive handling European sales. Mahn had a good run and is truly a significant part of Jamaica Plain and Major League Baseball history.

More Jamaica Plain baseball connections are found at Fordham Court, a large apartment building on South Street just south of Hanson Street. The owner of the Red Sox, Joseph Lannon, owned Fordham Court, and might even have built it. Lannon owned Fordham Court from 1914 to 1920 when he sold it to some investors in Brookline. Lannon sold the Red Sox to Harry Frazee in 1916.

Fordham Court was rumored to be the home of some of the Red Sox players during their heady years when they were winning the World Series. It was even suggested that Tris Speaker might have lived there. He was a famous Red Sox player until traded away to save money in 1916. Others have said that Babe Ruth might also have lived there. Babe Ruth, of course, was a pitcher for the Boston Red Sox before being traded away in 1919. We haven’t been able to substantiate these stories but we do know, from newspaper reports, that Tris Speaker attended the third annual St. Thomas Field Day at the Carolina Ave playground, and that Joseph Lannon contributed a loving cup to the winner of a local baseball game on that July 4th, 1915 event. We have pretty much confirmed, however, that neither Speaker nor Ruth actually lived at Fordham Court.

Another major leaguer, Eddie Waitkus, was born in Cambridge and died in Jamaica Plain. He played for the Chicago Cubs, Philadelphia Phillies, and Baltimore Orioles, and then again for Philadelphia, with four years off during the war. Waitkus’ story was a sideline in the Robert Redford movie, “The Natural”. He was shot by a mysterious, unstable, young woman in a hotel room. Waitkus survived and lived until 1973 in Jamaica Plain, leaving an 11-year major league career, from 1941 to 1955, on the books.

Other players include Babe Twombley, born in Jamaica Plain, who played with the Chicago Cubs from 1920 to 1921 and Leo Callahan, who played two years with the Brooklyn Dodgers and later the Philadelphia Phillies. Callahan was born in Jamaica Plain in 1890 and played from 1913 to 1919.

A player known as Shorty D. was born in Halifax and died in Jamaica Plain in 1971. Shorty played one year with the St. Louis Browns.

And Johnnie Tobin was born in Jamaica Plain in 1906. He played one year for the New York Giants in just one game and got up to bat just one time!

In addition to the named contributors to baseball, we note some of the early baseball rules that might surprise present-day fans. For example, scores of the early games, played without catcher’s masks, gloves or mitts of any kind, could run-up to 72 to 56! Balls and strikes were not usually called, but when they were, it took 9 balls before a walk was awarded. The idea was that the pitcher was obliged to put the ball in play and the fielders were bound to work the play after that.

Other differences included the freedom to bunt foul as many pitches as you could, without penalty, until you got a pitch you liked. This was changed in the 1890’s to the current rule that an attempted bunt that goes foul after 2 strikes, puts the batter out. Also, professional teams consisted of exactly nine players, so the pitcher had to pitch every game. And since there was no base stealing allowed, the catcher was usually situated 20 to 25 feet behind home plate.

There were regional rule differences also. For example, in New York a ball caught on the first bounce was an out, whereas in Boston you had to catch it on the fly. In addition, the New York rules allowed beaning the base runner with the ball that was known as “soaking the runner” and it was a putout. And, underhand pitching prevailed until the 1890’s. Around this time stealing was allowed, four balls earned a base on balls, and umpires were added to each of the bases. Other innovations beginning to evolve were the use of hand signals, spring training down south, and sadly, the deliberate attempt to keep Black Americans out of professional baseball which existed until 1947 when baseball’s segregation was finally broken by Jackie Robinson. The Red Sox were the last team in the league to admit a black player. Pumpsie Green, the first black Red Sox player, signed with the Red Sox in 1959. 

We can’t leave the Jamaica Plain connections to baseball without mentioning an intriguing gentleman named Gottlieb Burkhart. He owned a huge brewery in the Mission Hill area, which, for a time, was known as the North Jamaica Plain section. He had eight large six-story buildings producing brews known as Red Sox beer and Pennant ale. The backs of the labels for these beverages held the complete schedule of the Red Sox. Burkhart lived on Boylston Street, on a large estate, that has now become the John F. Kennedy School. His breweries existed up to the 1950’s.
 
So ends our survey of baseball in Jamaica Plain and its connections with the Major Leagues. Once again, diverse and important Jamaica Plain connections can be found in a national institution that enriches the quality of American life for all of us.

This article is based on a lecture given by Michael Reiskind on June 15, 2004 with additional information provided by Kenneth A. Perkins. Editorial assistance was provided by Chris Globig, Charlie Rosenberg, Amy Rothman, and Peter O’Brien.
Copyright © 2006, Jamaica Plain Historical Society.

Boston's Lost Breweries

Beer making in Boston was in its heyday in the early 1900’s. Try to imagine the clatter of horse-drawn, iron-wheeled, wagons bringing raw materials in and finished product out of the 24 breweries in Roxbury and Jamaica Plain which were located on or near Columbus Avenue, Heath Street and Amory Street. Add the pungent odors of hops, yeast, slowly cooking grains and the coal and wood smoke billowing from each of the 24 smokestacks and you begin to sense the impact these breweries had on their neighborhoods.

And why were they located here? There are two simple reasons: abundant and crystal clear water from the aquifer along the Stony Brook along with artesian wells bubbling to the surface around Mission Hill; and the relatively cheap land after the City of Roxbury merged with Boston in 1868. These conditions, combined with the demand for the new German type Lager beers, drove the expansion of the industry locally.

The Stony Brook originates in the Stony Brook Reservation in Hyde Park near the highest part of Boston and it flows from there to the Muddy River, terminating behind the Museum of Fine Arts in the Fens. In the early 1900’s Stony Brook was enclosed within a large culvert that straightened-out the old meandering route as it passed through Jamaica Plain and Roxbury. The top of the culvert lies very near the surface of the land; thus one can trace the route of the culvert by the absence of construction over it along a straight line from Cleary Square, in Hyde Park, to its terminus in the Fens. Another marker for its location is the rail corridor for the Orange Line and Amtrak trains which parallels the culvert’s path.

Today many of the old main brewing buildings are gone but some of the ancillary buildings are still in place. Most of the remaining buildings are in rough shape having been idle for long periods since the beginning of Prohibition in 1919. after the repeal of Prohibition in 1933 there followed a short period of growth by the five that reopened, but they were overpowered by the giant national breweries. Only one of the 24 breweries; Haffenreffer’s, remains active at this time, as we shall see.

Boston, with a total of 31 breweries, was distinguished as the city with the highest number of breweries, per capita, in the United States. The 24 located in our area were very close together, within a circle of about a mile and a half. Sometimes they were located right across the street from each other, and sometimes there were three in a single block! Traveling down Columbus Avenue one passes seven former brewery sites in just a few minutes. This density of breweries was also a very unique circumstance at the time.

Let’s visit some of the remaining brewery sites and review their places in Boston’s lost brewing history.

A.J. Houghton & Co. “Vienna” Brewery
Located at Station and Halleck Streets, it was active from 1870 to 1918. It occupies the site of the old Christian Jutz brewery built in 1857.

The Vienna Brewery had originally been located across the street where it was owned by Messrs. Houghton and Cole of Maine and Vermont. They bought the Christian Jutz property and moved their main operations across the street, converting their original property to a stable to house their several transport horses. Here they produced Vienna Lager from a German recipe. The lighter German and Austrian Lager beers came into favor in the 1850’s and 60’s displacing the heavier English/Irish Ales. Besides Vienna Lager, they made Pavonia Lager Beer, Vienna Old Time Lager and Rockland Ale.

This is the only landmark brewery in Boston, having been protected by the Boston Landmarks Commission, despite its poor condition. It had a five story main brewing building with a large cupola, an office building, three storage buildings, a coopering or barrel-making building, and a power plant. It was a beautiful building with brick used for architectural features instead of stonework or terra cotta. The sweeping arches are built of brick while the sills and parts of the arches are granite. The floor joists are supported by architectural ironwork. The exterior “X” shaped elements on the sides of the buildings are iron brick-ties that support the brick bearing-walls and were common design features at that time. They were often connected by long interior iron rods, spanning between the walls, to help hold the structure together under the floor loads of several stories.

The main brewing buildings had robust hoists and pumps to lift the grains and water up to the top floor to begin the brewing process. Gravity would then take the brew down to the various levels and processes below. This, then, was a “vertical” brewery. When pumping technology improved, the vertical process was discontinued in favor of the “horizontal” brewery with lower buildings and other efficiencies. This brewery closed when Prohibition arrived in 1919 and it never reopened on a full-scale basis.

Burkhardt Brewery
Moving now to Station and Parker Streets we come to a large parking lot which is the former site of one of the largest and best known Boston breweries, the Burkhardt Brewery, active from 1850 to 1918. Mr. Haffenreffer, whom we’ll hear more about later, began his career here and became Burkhardt’s brewmaster.

Burkhardt built two large six-story Roxbury Puddingstone buildings and a large stable forming an L shaped enclosure around the adjacent Houghton and Company Vienna Brewery. Gottlieb, or George Burkhardt and his son, Gottlieb Jr., ran the brewery until Gottlieb Senior died in 1884. It continued brewing until Prohibition closed it in 1919. It stayed open, however, until 1929 producing cereal and other grain products during the dry period. Burkhardt made both beer and ale. Their labels were Tivoli Beer, Extra Lager Beer, and; starting in 1912, Red Sox Beer, to honor that year’s World Series Champions. They also made Augsburger Lager & Augsburger Dark, Salvator Lager, Brown Stock Lager and Bock style Lager. They produced over 100,000 barrels a year of beer alone, plus Golden Sheaf Ale, Cream Ale, Brown Stock Ale, Old Stock Porter, India Pale Ale and; also starting in 1912, Pennant Ale.

Most of the skilled brewery workers were Germans and Austrians. Other skilled crafts included mechanics, boilermakers, steamfitters, coopers, stablemen, teamsters, ice handlers, etc. Gottlieb Burkhardt Senior lived directly across the street from his brewery. Wentworth Institute, who planned to put a hockey rink here until it was made a Boston Landmark, presently owns the building.

McCormick Brewery, Hanley and Casey, and Continental Brewing
There were three breweries located where the present Mission Housing Development now stands; McCormick Brewery that brewed Fenway Ale, the Hanley and Casey Brewery and Continental Brewing, also known as Frey & King.

Now moving through the Mission Hill neighborhood on Parker Street the first house on the right was Mr. Hanley’s. The adjacent three-deckers housed German and Irish brewery workers employed in the area’s dominant industry. The nearby Holy Trinity Church served a German-speaking congregation that continues to this day in Jamaica Plain. The original church is the small aluminum clad building on the site. It was originally called the Elliot Mission, named for John Elliot of Roxbury. The new church was built by a German-American architect named Jacob Luippold.

H. & J. Pfaff, Roessle, and Habich “Norfolk” Breweries
Active from 1857 to 1918, the Pfaff Brewery was located at 1276 Columbus Avenue, the present site of Roxbury Community College. Mr. Pfaff lived next door to Mr. Hanley on Parker Street and could easily walk to work.

Looking across Stony Brook Valley the white house with the cupola is 47 Center Street, the former home of brewmaster John Roessle, who owned the Roessle Brewery at 1250 Columbus Avenue that was active from 1846 to 1918 and from 1933 to 1951. It too was on the Community College site. A third brewery, Habich “Norfolk” Brewery, active from 1874 to 1902, was located at 171 Cedar Street and occupied the same College site. Habich was the first Boston Brewery to make Lager beer in the 1850’s.

The Stony Brook culvert sits very close to the surface of Terrace Street, the home of two very productive breweries. The Union Brewery, active from 1893 to 1911, was located at 103 Terrace Street. It produced only German Lager beer. It had a large six story, arched, main building and two smaller buildings housing a stable and a powerhouse. The two smaller buildings and the mural-decorated smokestack, which now also does duty as a cell phone tower remain. The former stable is now Mississippi’s Restaurant.

Nearby, at 94 Terrace Street, the Park Brewery, active from 1881 to 1918, produced only Irish Ales. One building, now Frank’s Auto Body Shop, remains on the site. The wood siding on the building covers the original brick. In the rear, the remains of a granite block embankment still exist. Most of it was removed for the Orange Line construction project. James W. Kenney owned both breweries. It’s thought that the different yeasts used in beer and ale production is the reason Kenney separated the two processes.

Now we come to the Rueter & Alley “Highland Spring” Brewery, active from 1867 to 1885, located at Heath and Parker Streets. This was a five or six-story magnificent building with a beautiful little arched refrigeration building built in 1895, and a bottling building. Before artificial ammonia refrigeration was developed in 1884, natural ice from the ponds around greater Boston was used to cool the beer after brewing and during the aging process. The artificial refrigeration plants that nearly all breweries installed made ice for the purposes stated and thus displaced the ponds as the source of ice.

Driving down Columbus Avenue one can still see “Highland Springs Ale” painted on the outside of the building. Rueter produced Irish style ales and it was the largest ale and porter brewery in the United States in the 1870’s. In 1876 their ale won a coveted gold medal at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition, despite Philadelphia’s claimed leadership in brewing ale.

When Alley left to start his own brewery on Heath Street, the name was changed to Rueter & Company and continued under that name from 1885 to 1918. Rueter was President of the United States Brewers Association for many years. His estate was on the Jamaicaway where Jamaica Towers is presently located.

This plant closed in 1919 and was thereafter used as a warehouse by Oliver Ditson Company, the Boston music-publishing firm. Croft Company, making Croft Ale, remaining active from 1934 to 1953, reopened it as a brewery after Prohibition. Mr. Croft had been a brewmaster for Rueter and Alley. One of the buildings stayed active until recently as Rosoff Pickle factory until it was bought by Hebrew National Co. and moved to New York.

Highland Springs, John R. Alley, American Brewing Company, Burton and Roxbury Breweries
Leaving Stony Brook and traveling along Heath Street we come to the Highland Spring Brewery. Highland and the other Heath Street breweries drew their water from artesian wells beneath Mission Hill, instead of the Stony Brook aquifer. The wells have been capped to allow conversion of some of the old brewery buildings to housing and studios.

Next comes the John R. Alley brewery that Mr. Alley started when he left Rueter and Alley. Located at 123 Heath Street, it was active from 1886 to 1918. It was designed by Otto Wolf, a Philadelphia Architect, in 1886. The Chicago Historical Society has graciously given us a set of the interior plans for the brewery from which we get great interior details of a working brewery. It is a seven bay building with 3 arched bays either side of the main carriage entry bay. The brewing was done in the left set of bays. This displays a beautiful use of brick and granite with half the granite polished and half left rough in a handsome checkerboard pattern. You will still see the owner’s initials, JRA, carved over the employees’ entrance. Note also the metal carriage blocks in the carriage entry that would prevent a broken wheel should a carriage negotiate too tight a turn coming in or leaving. The smaller brick refrigeration building was built in 1899.

The Alley brewery was also known as the “Eblana” brewery because it produced “Eblana” Irish Ale; Eblana being the Greek word for Dublin. Frederick and George Alley took it over in 1898 when John R. died. It continued operating until Prohibition. During and after Prohibition it was a Canada Dry Ginger Ale bottling plant.

We come now to the American Brewing Company at 235 - 249 Heath Street. It was active from 1891 to 1918 and from 1933 to 1934. James W. Kenney whom we met earlier at the Park and Union breweries owned it. The brewmasters were Gottlieb, Gustav and Gottlieb F. Rothfuss, all of Jamaica Plain.

This is undoubtedly the most handsome of all the remaining breweries in Boston and once can see at a glance the pride the owners had in the place, the process and the product. The architect was Frederick Footman of Cambridge. It was built in three phases, with the oldest part on the left, the second one with the American Brewing Company name came next and then the third wing with the beautiful granite arches and terra cotta heads which was the office complex emblazoned with the initials ABC. The granite was probably either Chelmsford or the slightly grayer Quincy.

Still visible in the main, or brewing, building is the large overhead access shaft where the malted barley and water were lifted to the top floor with hoists and pumps. The barley was stored in cedar-lined rooms in the top two stories of the main building to prevent insect infestation. The brewing process was started there as the grain was cooked. The cooked mash then flowed to the floor below where the grain was removed as waste and hops and other ingredients were added to the residual brew, along with the yeast that triggered the fermentation that produced the alcohol. The final product was then stored in temperature-controlled areas at the lowest level. Also still visible in the lower level is the capped wellhead that had delivered countless thousands of gallons of pure Mission Hill spring water to the process.

A wonderful touch of the spirit of the times is the “customer” room in the basement. Customers were entertained here in a room with walls, ceiling and floor painted with German drinking slogans, flowers and other reminders of the source of the Lager recipes. The offices had beautiful arched, semi-circular windows with stained glass. The tower is rounded and has a clock fixed at seven and five, the workers’ starting and quitting times. It also has granite carriage blocks to protect carriage wheels from breaking if too tight a turn were attempted when entering or exiting.

During Prohibition it was used as a laundry. After 1934, Mr. Haffenreffer used it for a time as a second brewery. Most recently it was used by a fine arts crating and shipping company, the Fine Arts Express Co. It is presently being converted to housing units.

At the opposite end of Heath Street, near General Heath Square, we would have seen the small Burton Brewery on the site now occupied by the Bromley-Heath Housing complex. It was owned by J. K. Souther who produced Burton Ale, Bull’s Head and Special Porter. During Prohibition it bottled a soft drink called Moxie, — which was definitely an acquired taste; but more importantly, the genesis of a new word in the American lexicon. Moxie is the oldest continuously manufactured soft drink in America starting in 1884 in Lowell, Massachusetts and it is still available from on-line vendors.

Nearby, the small Roxbury Brewing Company at 31 Heath Street was also built by Frederick Footman. It was active from 1895 to 1899 and was owned by William G. Titcomb of Providence. Its short life was due to under-capitalization. Rueter & Company bought it and produced 125,000 barrels a year there.

Robinson, Franklin, Haffenreffer and Sam Adams Breweries
The ubiquitous James W Kenney appears now in Jamaica Plain where he buys the Robinson “Rockland” Brewery at 55 - 71 Amory Street. It was active from 1884 to 1902. The building and smokestack still stand. Mr. Robinson, the former owner, ran the brewery for Kenney producing Elmo Ale, named for Robinson’s son. The building later became Trimount Tool Company. It is now a Futon factory with residential artist’s lofts.

Traveling along Amory Street one passes the former sites of many diverse industries including electrical, japanning and lacquering, electro-plating, silver-plating, leather tanning, rubber, and junk yards; none compatible with brewing beer. Reflecting this diversity, the former names of nearby Cornwall and Brookside Streets were Cooper Street and Chemical Avenue. There were many brewery employees’ homes located here along with several German social and cultural clubs. They served the nearly 14% German-American population in the area with places to gather socially and preserve their strong ties to the old country.

At 3175 Washington Street we find the handsome Franklin Brewery; named for nearby Franklin Park, and rivaling ABC Brewery in architectural beauty. It was active from 1894 to 1918. Its beautiful façade was hidden from view by the elevated railway from 1912 until 1988. The initials FPC can now be seen at the 4th floor. It was a vertical brewery with six stories above Washington Street and nine stories above Haverford Street in the rear. Carriages couldn’t turn around in the yard and had to pass through and exit via a ramp in the rear. It was built by Chicago architect Charles Kaestner who cleverly fools the eye with arches designed to make the building look symmetrical, when in fact it is unbalanced. They produced 40,000 barrels of ale per year, including the XXX (Triple X) Ale and Stock labels. After 1918 it became Larkin and Sons Storage Warehouse, and it’s now an Extra Space Storage facility.

Now we come to the Haffenreffer Brewery at Bismark and Germania Streets. It was active from 1870 to 1964 and reigned as queen of the Jamaica Plain fleet of breweries. Rudolph Haffenreffer had been brewmaster at Burkhardt’s brewery and had married Burkhardt’s niece. He then left Burkhardt’s and started his own brewery which was to become the last operating brewery in Boston.

It was a 14-building complex with a tower building, main brewery, storage building, paymaster’s office, stables, and an extensive bottling plant, etc. A widely believed local rumor places a spout in the main brewery wall delivering free beer to any and all visitors. The buildings had slate roofs, one of which was an odd, trough-shaped, affair designed to catch and funnel rainwater to the power plant. Underground steam pipes connected many of the buildings, including Haffenreffers’s house next door at 21 Germania Street. This is a good example of the vertical and later horizontal brewery with the lower buildings and other efficiencies gained in that process. After closing in 1964 it was a storage warehouse including garages and artists’ accommodations as well. Now owned by the Jamaica Plain Neighborhood Development Corporation it counts among its tenants several food operations and the famous Sam Adams Micro-Brewery that was started in 1988. Regular tours are conducted at Sam Adams and one can once again see beer brewing in Jamaica Plain in a building that just won’t quit.

Conclusion
In this survey of Boston’s lost breweries we’ve seen how a thriving local industry prospered, expanded and then abruptly died under a well intentioned, but impractical law. Fortunately, however, the lost breweries have left us with several beautiful buildings and diverse Jamaica Plain neighborhoods still enriched by the ethnic and cultural roots of the people who came here to work in them.

Additional Resources
A collection of Boston brewery posters has been placed on line by the Boston Public Library via their Flickr site at http://www.flickr.com/photos/boston_public_library/  We have provided links to a selection of those images:

American Brewing Company
Burkhardt
Burton
Highland Spring
Pfaff
Roessle 

This article is based on a tour given by Michael Reiskind on March 25, 2006. Peter O’Brien transcribed and edited the material from tape. Modern photographs by Charlie Rosenberg. Copyright © 2006, Jamaica Plain Historical Society.

Bowditch School

The following material was drawn from the nomination form to the National Register of Historic Places and was submitted on May 4, 1989 and authored by Leslie Larson and Kimberly Shilland.

The Bowditch School, number 80-82 Green Street at the corner of Green and Cheshire Streets, occupies a prominent position near the MBTA Orange Line Green Street station in Jamaica Plain. Basically rectangular in plan, the free-standing, 3-story-plus-basement Classical Revival structure of sandy-colored brick with North River stone sills, lintels and string courses, rises from its high quarry-faced granite base with hammered granite coping, to a modillion block cornice of North River stone and a gray-slate-covered hipped roof.

The primary Green Street façade features a slightly projecting central pavilion rising from a dignified tripartite portico with pillars and pilasters supporting a granite and North River stone entablature. Paired stairways, flanked by heavy granite railings which rise from a granite monument in the center, lead to the recessed entry porch, from which two sets of double wood panel doors surrounded by small-paned transoms and sidelights, lead into the building. Shallow windows with North River stone sills and lintels are grouped in twos on the central segment and threes on the flanking wings, with single windows immediately abutting the central pavilion. A stone string course forming the second floor lintels encircles the entire building. Third floor central windows are paired within the masonry openings and are topped with small-paned, round-arched transoms. The entire central façade above the spring of the transom arches is of North River stone with voussoirs fanning out above each transom. The windows throughout the building with few exceptions contain 4/4 double-hung wood sash.

 

The rear elevation is similarly organized with a projecting central segment flanked by wings, but with less elaborate detail. Windows are paired on the first two floors of the center portion and united in groups of fours by continuous stone sills and lintels on all three levels of the wings. Unusual corner oriels with single windows join the three elements at the third level. There is no portico or significant rear entrance. Paired fire escapes, which are later additions, distract from the rhythm of the rear elevation.

The side elevations are without projecting elements, punctuated only by window groups and modest double-door entrances flanked by multi-paned sidelights. Rising from these entrances in continuous columns to the cornice are series of paired windows alternatively small-paned fixed sash and 4/4 double-hung sash. Groups of four and three windows with continuous sills and lintels at all levels flank the central column.

An iron picket fence along Green Street remains largely intact, giving the school a residential rather than institutional air. The architectural integrity of the building has not been marred by additions or remodeling, with the exception of the rear fire escapes.

Above the modillion-block cornice rises a hipped roof of slate in three parts, with the two wing segments butting into the slightly raised central section. Rising dramatically from the roof are two towering brick vent stacks with stone trim and wide hip-roofed metal canopies. These are joined by two smaller brick and stone chimneys plus a circular iron chimney with a conical top. The rear portion of the roof, which slopes only slightly, was originally of copper but is now of built-up tar and gravel. Gutters and flashing are of copper.

The lot area is 29,536 square feet. Front and rear dimensions of the building are 114.5 feet, side dimensions are 78.5 feet. The central portion is 92.4 feet deep. The ridge of the central pavilion is 62 feet above grade.

Vertically the interior is divided into four levels plus an attic. The three lower levels are each organized around a generous central corridor, with the third floor top level bisected by a large auditorium, originally an “Exhibition Hall.” Cast iron staircases with ball-topped newels and twisted balusters, behind the vertical window columns on southeast and northwest sides of the building connect all levels.

The basement, with its painted brick perimeter walls and partitions, is essentially utilitarian and without detail.

All rooms on the three main floors contain the same treatment of surfaces: narrow maple strip flooring, plaster walls and ceilings, beaded-board wainscoting over high baseboards, 4-panel wood doors and casings, many with 4-light transoms, horizontal moldings above blackboards and at ceilings in classrooms, and, in the first and second floor central coordinators, plaster arches with beaded corners. Central corridors on floors 1 and 2 lead to all significant rooms. There are two entrance vestibules with marble floors on floor 1, flanking a reception room at the front of the building. There are large classrooms in all four corners, each with seven windows and each with its long narrow wardrobe, plus a fifth classroom in the center rear. Staircases can be seen through steel and glass partitions (later additions) at either end of the central corridor on both floors 1 and 2. Floor 2 is similar to floor 1 except that a classroom and master’s room replace the vestibules and reception room. Ceiling height in the classrooms is 13’.

Corner classrooms and staircases on the third floor are similar to those below, but the central pavilion contains a large open auditorium with a stage and proscenium, plus wardrobes beside the stage and small rooms to the rear. The 20’6” high auditorium is entered through double doors from the staircase and classroom halls at the northwest and southeast ends of the building. The auditorium is relatively unadorned, with only the wainscot found throughout the building and some simple panel moldings on the walls. A sloping floor was added at some point after construction. The proscenium arch is flat with rounded corners. There is no fixed seating in the auditorium.

The attic is unfinished, with wood rafters, trusses and collar beams exposed. The floor level rises over the auditorium. It is accessible only by ladder.

In addition to the moldings, wainscoting and other high quality architectural details, interior items of note include cast iron newels on the staircases, cabinet work in the master’s room, a plaster frieze in the second floor corridor, donated by the Class of 1904, and a plaster-cast reproduction of the Liberty Bell, donated by William A. Filene, of department store fame, and mounted in the first floor entry vestibule ca. 1918. Mr. Filene generously commissioned twelve of these casts which were placed in public schools of the city.

The Bowditch School, declared a surplus property by the City of Boston in July of 1981, has been vacant since that time. It has fared reasonably well, although suffering some water damage, graffiti inside and out, broken windows and minor vandalism.

Significance

The Bowditch School (1890-92) possesses integrity of location, design, setting, materials, workmanship, feeling and association, and meets National Register Criteria A and C. Under Criteria A, the Bowditch School is strongly associated with the development and growth of Jamaica Plain and the education of its citizens, through its role as a public educational institution for nearly ninety years, and as a prime example of well-intentioned, civic-minded goals of local and city government from the time it was built through the first decades of the Twentieth Century. Under Criteria C, the Bowditch School is a virtually unaltered, dignified and well-proportioned example of a Classical Revival educational structure, designed by the prominent local architect and politician, Harrison Henry Atwood (1863-1954). The architect’s sensitivity to site is still evident today as may be seen in the scale, siting and use of materials for the school and its successful relationship to the 2- and 3-story frame, shingle and brick residential environment. The architectural integrity of the building has not been seriously altered, the interior and exterior alterations primarily reflecting updated fire codes. The major exterior additions over the years were paired rear fire escapes and metal vent shaft covers, as well as fire doors inside the building. A 1943 fire resulted in damage to the third-floor auditorium, attic and roof, but repairs closely matched original details, with the exception of eliminating skylights over the stage. The original relatively cramped lot was expanded to the southeast in 1926, forming the present L-shaped configuration.

Rich with cultural and historical associations for generations of Jamaica Plain residents, the Bowditch School was constructed during the development boom of the 1880s and 1890s which dramatically altered the composition of Jamaica Plain. Jamaica Plain has played an important role in the history of the Commonwealth dating back to pre-revolutionary days. Originally know as “Jamaica Plain in Roxbury,” the area was settled early on, initially as a small farming community within the larger Roxbury district.

Roxbury, with Jamaica Plain as a smaller community within its boundaries, was a hotbed of Revolutionary activity. Joshua Loring, for example, a prominent citizen and Loyalist, was forced to flee the country, leaving behind all possessions and the grand Loring-Greenough House when he would not renounce his allegiance to the Crown. Nearby at John Eliot Square, the grounds of the First Church in Roxbury were the scene of repeated cannon fire during the siege of Boston, and it was from the Church green that William Dawes began the second leg of his famous Midnight Ride of 1775.

Jamaica Plain developed a character of its own within the larger area of West Roxbury, which severed its ties with Roxbury proper in 1851. Sam Bass Warner, whose book Streetcar Suburbs is helpful in understanding the growth and development of Boston’s suburbs, states: “During the 1820s a charming rural village grew up near Jamaica Pond and along the main street, Centre Street, which was formerly the highway to Dedham.” This area, which came to be known as Jamaica Plain, was the political and social center of West Roxbury. Jamaica Plain was sparsely populated until the second half of the 18th Century, when the area became a popular location for the summer estates of such notables as Governor Francis Bernard and John Hancock. A series of improvements in roads and turnpikes, ca. 1795-1830s, and the laying of the Boston and Providence Railroad, opened the doors for industrial growth. By the mid-19th century, tanneries and breweries, such as the Haffenreffer Brewery, were familiar sights. In 1873, the citizens of West Roxbury voted to annex the town to the City of Boston.

The most striking physical change for Jamaica Plain occurred in the 1870s when streetcar lines were extended from Roxbury into West Roxbury along Washington and Centre Streets, making the area available to larger numbers of commuters. The streetcar lines dramatically changed the rare by brining real estate speculation, which resulted in increased residential, industrial and municipal growth, thus making possible to many the “ideal” housing opportunities we now associate with suburban life. Warner notes that the suburbanization of Roxbury, West Roxbury and Dorchester occurred in two waves, first from 1865-73 and then during the 1880s-90s. Wit this second wave of development in housing, came dozens of schools, libraries and public buildings, of which the Bowditch School is a prime example. Franklin Park and the Arnold Arboretum were also being planned at this time, again providing evidence of tremendous civic commitment.

Built during this second wave of development on the site of an earlier frame schoolhouse, the Bowditch School represented the well-intentioned civic concerns of the day: increased attention was given to fireproof construction, adequate ventilation and proper lighting. As part of Jamaica Plain’s rich school inventory, the Bowditch School shows the pride the community took in educational structures at this time. This is evident in the high quality of design, not only of the Bowditch School, but also in other neighborhood educational buildings such as the earliest extant school in Jamaica Plain, the Eliot School (dedicated in 1832), through the completion of the Margaret Fuller School (1891-92) by Edmund M. Wheelwright, the Jamaica Plain High School (1901, 1920s) by Andres, Jacques and Rantoul, and the Mary E. Curley School (1931) by McLaughlin and Burr.

The urbanization (or suburbanization) of the Green Street section of Jamaica Plain began on July 27, 1836, when Samuel G. Goodrich of Roxbury, gentleman, conveyed a large portion of his land and gardens to John Ashton and Theophilus Parsons, plus a trust including Charles W. Greene, Charles Bradley, Levi Haskell and others, on a 40’-wide street “now being made” (referred to as Union Street) from Jamaica Plain to the Dedham Turnpike (Norfolk Deed 111:210).

In June of 1837 a Plan of House Lots at Jamaica Plain by Alexander Wadsworth, Surveyor, appeared in the deeds (Norfolk 115:226) with 30 lots of varying sizes grouped around “Willow Street” running northwest and southeast, crossing the Boston and Providence Railroad, and “Boston Avenue” running northeast from Willow. Parts of lots 26 and 27 eventually became the Bowditch School site. Willow became Greene Street on August 14, 1837 and Boston Avenue was renamed Lamartine Street in 1848.

The Bowditch site is made up of three lots with different histories of ownership, acquired by the city of Boston at different times. The vacant northwest lot at the corner of Green and Cheshire Streets was purchased from Roxbury carriage makers John E. and George H. Williams by Joseph Perry, carpenter, also of Roxbury, on October 7, 1843 (Norfolk 144:218). Perry resold the lot about nine months later “with buildings thereon” to Josiah Capen of Boston, also a carriage maker (Norfolk 147:293). Charles E. Jackson acquired the house and lot in 1864 (Norfolk 321:20) and eventually conveyed it to the City of Boston on February 27, 1890 (Suffolk Deed 1923:136). The middle and southeast lots were acquired by the Philip Allens Senior and Junior from Charles W. Greene in 1844 (Norfolk 147:96). Following a series of transactions, William Wellington, a West Roxbury trader, conveyed the middle lot to the Town of West Roxbury on June 27, 1863 (Norfolk 316:58) for construction of a primary school, which occurred soon thereafter. The land and building became City of Boston property when West Roxbury was annexed in 1874.

Those two lots formed the original site for construction of the Bowditch School. Charles Jackson’s house was probably demolished, but the wooden late Greek Revival schoolhouse was apparently moved to the southeast adjacent property, where it still stands in an altered state abutting the Bowditch parking area. The third lot, which of late served as an asphalt-covered play area, was added to the site on April 22, 1926, when the city took the property from Alice E. Fowler for unpaid taxes.

Built with what were considered to be the finest materials of the day, granite, North River stone and sandy-colored brick, the Bowditch School is a well-proportioned carefully detailed building exhibiting an imaginative interplay of the materials, especially on the central pavilion on Green Street. The fenestration is well composed and made integral to the structure by the stone trim. The interior spaces are generous and airy, with well-detailed woodwork in all rooms and graceful plaster arches in the central corridors. The scale, siting and materials of the Bowditch School as a whole relate well to the immediate neighborhood which features a comfortable mix of residential and institutional (or former institutional) uses such as the old Jamaica Plain Police Station, designed by George A. Clough ca. 1873, and the Municipal Court, designed by Edmund M. Wheelwright ca. 1890. Both are located a short distance from the Bowditch School on Seaverns Avenue.

The Bowditch School was the recipient of local patronage and alumni support. The Boston Art Commission, in its annual reports, lists several items of artistic note within the Bowditch School. For example, the artist Walter Gilman Page (1862-1834), organizer of the Public School Art League, had two portraits on display at the Bowditch School. A portrait of Charles Willard Hill (1834-1896), the first master of the Bowditch School from 1890-1896 and a Jamaica Plain resident, hung in the Assembly Room. It was purchased in 1898 “with the proceeds of an entertainment arranged by school.” A Memorial Service was held in the Jamaica Plain’s Curtis Hall to commemorate Hill in November 1896. An account in the Boston Herald, entitled “Record of a Useful Life,” reported that the hall was filled to capacity with present and former pupils as well as school committee members. Hill was obviously a well-liked and respected Jamaica Plain citizen.

Hill’s tenure was followed by that of Edward Schuerch, who was master of the Bowditch School from 1896 until at least 1926. His long reign saw many changes in the school, including the change from a Girls Grammar School (Grades 4-9) to an Elementary School (Grades 1-3) in 1907. In the mid-1920s, the Bowditch became an Intermediate School.

While Hill and Schuerch are both important individuals in the history of the Bowditch School’s development, Dr. Elizabeth Catherine Keller, while not a graduate of the school, apparently had close ties with it. Keller (1837-1912) was, according to a page-one obituary in the Boston Evening Transcript of 29 November 1912, “one of the first four women in the world to study and practice surgery.” Keller was Superintendent for the Home for Friendless Children in Philadelphia, going on to establish a hospital and dispensary in 1871, also in Philadelphia, going on to establish a hospital and dispensary in 1871, also in Philadelphia. She was called to succeed Susan Dimmock at New England Hospital for Women in Roxbury in 1875. She was resident surgeon there until circa 1900. Keller had established private practice in Jamaica Plain by 1877. From 1899 on, Keller took a keen interest in the Boston School Board, representing the 24th ward on the School Committee. She donated a 3/4 portrait of herself (also by Walter Gilman Page mentioned above) the Bowditch School during the 1890s. Keller first lived at Green and Lamartine Streets, a short distance from the school, and later built a mansion at Rockview and Green Streets, also only a few blocks away. That she probably felt a civic responsibility as a successful woman surgeon to the young women and girls of the Bowditch School is quite likely.

Throughout its construction, the school was referred to as a “Hillside District Grammar School,” first appearing as the “Bowditch School” in the 1892 report of the Architects Department by Edmund M. Wheelwright. The architect for the Bowditch School was Harrison Henry Atwood (1863-1954). (See attached Appendix A for a partial list of building designed by Atwood.) Atwood had a long and distinguished career not only as an architect, but also as a politician.

Born in North Londonderry, Vermont, Harrison Atwood came to Boston as a young man and was educated in Boston schools. Before training as an architect, he began his career in the law office of Godfrey Morse and John R. Bullard. Deciding instead to pursue a career in architecture, Atwood apprenticed with the well-known New England architect, Samuel J. F. Thayer (1842-1893) for three and a half or four years. Richard Herndon, in his 1892 compilation, Boston of Today, states that Atwood was with Thayer for four years followed by “a year or more” with former city architect George Clough (1843-1916). Atwood left Clough to begin his own practice in 1886, when he was first listed under “Architects” in the Boston Directory, with an office at 22 School Street, where he remained through 1889. From 1891 through 1894 he rented space in the Stock Exchange Building at 53 State Street and was back on School Street at Number 13 in 1896. Atwood’s name did not appear again in the Directory’s classified section until the period from 1911 to 1920, when his home address at 61 Alban Street, Dorchester, was listed.

Harrison Atwood undoubtedly had a thorough, high quality training which, in combination with his own talent, enabled him to set up his own practice at a young age as well as to qualify for the prestigious position of City Architect in 1889 at age twenty-six. Before taking over as City Architect, Atwood completed the following solo projects: the First National Bank Building in Chelsea (1888), at a cost of $100,000; a Baptist Church on Woodlawn Avenue, Chelsea; a large warehouse on Friend Street, Boston; and a dozen houses in Ashmont between Dudley Street and the Milton line.

While establishing his architectural practice, Atwood was also involved in politics as a State Representative, serving his first full term from 1887 to 1889. He was the Republican Representative of Ward 8, West End. Atwood participated on the liquor, mercantile affairs and building department committees. He continued to be active in local and state Republican politics until late in his life.

Appointed City Architect in 1889 by Mayor Thomas Hart (28th Mayor, served 1889-90, 1900-01), Atwood held this position from May 16, 1889 to March 30, 1891 In 1891, however, he was removed from office by the succeeding Democratic administration of Nathan Matthews (29th Mayor, served 1891, 92, 93, 94). (The Mayor was elected annually until 1895, after which elections were held biennially. In 1909, John F. Fitzgerald became the first mayor to enjoy the extended term of four years.)

At this point it seems pertinent to discuss the peculiarities of the City Architect position (which caused Atwood to be dismissed by one administration and reinstated by the next) and the effect of a one-year mayoral term. The City Architect Department was established in 1874 as a means of cutting building costs. Although politically appointed, holders of the position turned out to be only the most qualified of architects, with the first being George A. Clough (1843-1914), whose tenure lasted through several mayoral administration, circa 1875-1883. (It will be remembered that Atwood trained briefly with Clough.) Clough began his career as a shipbuilder and later trained with Snell and Gregerson from 1863 to 1869. He was responsible for completing at least 25 Boston schools, including the renowned English High and Latin Schools (1877).

Charles Bateman (b. 1851) followed Clough, serving two terms, one in 1883 and a second in 1888. Some of his most noted designs include: the O Street School House, St. Cecilia’s Church in the Back Bay, the Andrew Carney Hospital in South Boston and St. Catherine’s Church in Charlestown.

Succeeding Bateman was Arthur H. Vinal (1854-1923), a versatile and prolific architect who often designed in a Richardsonian style, as illustrated in his Engine and Hose House #33, 1885, and the present Institute of Contemporary Art, 1886. Atwood, who came next in this chronology, was succeeded by Edmund March Wheelwright (1854-1912). Wheelwright’s contributions to Boston architecture were extensive. He was the subject of a book by Francis Ward Chandler which dealt exclusively with Wheelwright’s municipal structures for the City of Boston. He was the last City Architect, serving from 1891 to 1895. It was in this talented group that Atwood belonged.

In his inaugural address of 1895, Mayor Edwin Upton Curtis recommended that the position of City Architect be abolished. This was the result of several factors, the primary one being that although the Architect Department had been initiated to cut building costs, it had in fact become more costly to operate the department with its staff than to put the projects out to private bid. Accusations of political favoritism and the giving of contracts to friends and political favorites were widespread and Atwood himself bore the burnt of many years of accumulated frustration with this department.

In a highly publicized scandal concerning the awarding of contracts for the work on public buildings, the activities of the Architect Department came under the harsh scrutiny of the public. Atwood, while guilty of bestowing favoritism, was in reality continuing the practices well established in the department. It is evident in the Bowditch School that he chose skilled workmen and contractors for the project. Atwood rose above the scandal, for he continued his successful careers in both architecture and politics after this event.

One of the major problems with the post was that it was an appointed one and therefore inextricably tied to politics. What one architect began under one administration might be carried out under three architects from three different administrations, causing considerable delays and radical and costly changes. The building was often subjected to several different approaches before eventually being completed and occupied.

Exactly what was required to “quality” for the position of City Architect is uncertain. One item that Atwood secured, however, was a petition signed by others in the architectural community, as well as those for whom he had completed work. The petition was presented to the Mayor for consideration. Atwood was recommended by S.J.F. Thayer (Atwood’s former employer, architect of the Clarendon Street Baptist Church, The Tudor), Carl Fehmer (Oliver Ames House, 357-59 Beacon Street, 505 Beacon Street), John Spofford (partner with Brigham, Maine State Capitol Building Extension, Massachusetts State House Addition), Charles Brigham (Burrage House, earlier a partner with Sturgis on the old Museum of Fine Arts), Gridley J.F. Bryant (Old City Hall, Boston City Hospital) and Charles F. McKim (Boston Public Library, Algonquin Club), to name a few of the more prominent individuals.

As the appointment to the post of City Architect was annual, it is often difficult to ascertain which buildings were designed by which City Architect. Such is the difficulty with Atwood’s work. In fact, the Bowditch School has often been attributed to Atwood’s predecessor, Arthur H. Vinal (1854-1923). Atwood’s Report of the Architects Department for 1889 (presented January 30, 1890), however, clearly states: “Plans are about ready for the approval of the School Board for the following named school building, viz:—A twelve room grammar school with exhibition hall at the corner of Green and Cheshire Streets, Jamaica Plain, Ward 23…” At this point in Atwood’s tenure (January of 1890) the plans for the Bowditch School had not yet been approved by the School Committee.

Herndon, writing in 1892, said of Atwood’s work: ”…and the new work laid out, completed or under contract during his term of office comprises four of the finest public schools in New England, namely, the Henry L. Pierce Grammar School Dorchester (Demolished), the Prince Primary School, Cumberland and St. Botolph Streets (he probably means the Perkins School which is at the address and which was designed by Atwood. The Prince School was at Newbury and Exeter Streets, designed by George Clough), the Bowditch Grammar School, Jamaica Plain and the Adams Primary School, East Boston.”

Completed circa 1891, slightly earlier than the Bowditch School, the Perkins School shares with the Bowditch School a restrained and intelligent use of the Classical Revival style, as well as a similarity in massing, siting and use of materials.

Atwood’s skill in school design is apparent in the structures he built while City Architect, but he obviously maintained a reputation for talented institutional design and remained aware of current style, technology and practice, as he was commissioned to produce plans long after leaving the City’s employ. Several of his later plans for school buildings include: the George Lewis School, 131 Walnut Avenue, Roxbury, 1912; the Curtis Guild School, 5 Ashley Street, East Boston, 1921; the Frank V. Thompson School, 110 Maxwell Street, Dorchester, 1922; and, as late as 1935, the Joyce Kilmer School, 35 Baker Street, West Roxbury.

In addition to the large number of public buildings Atwood was responsible for during his term as City Architect in private practice, he also designed many distinguished residences, primarily in the Ashmont Hill section of Dorchester. His own house at 61 Alban Street has been the subject of attention for its unique design. Atwood was equally adept at designing institutional and residential structures, in Neo-Classical, Queen Anne, Stick and Shingle styles.

While engaged in a successful practice, Atwood continued his involvement in politics. From 1893 to 1897, he was Representative in Congress for the 10th District. In 1914, Atwood was elected to represent Dorchester, Ward 24, in the State Legislature, where he served until 1929. Atwood was a delegate to numerous Republican conventions over the years. This successful mixture of politics and architecture appears to be uncommon.

The records are silent on exactly how the school came to be named after Nathaniel I. Bowditch (1773-1838), an astronomer, noted mathematician and insurance executive. Although there were several prominent members of the Bowditch family named Nathaniel, it appears most likely, in regard to date and long-term influence, that the school was named after the aforementioned Bowditch.

N.I. Bowditch was born in Salem, Massachusetts on March 26, 1773. His ancestors had “for three generations followed the sea so that this lad came very naturally by his passion for ships and sailing.” He was interested at an early age in calculations and navigation and went on to write extensively on astronomical and nautical subjects, preparing the first American edition of The Practical Navigator. In 1823, Bowditch was named actuary of the Massachusetts Life Insurance Company and moved to Boston. He resided at what was then 8 Otis Place (now Winthrop Square) until his death. Members of his family lived at Otis Place until the house was demolished in 1858 to make way for a new opening to Franklin Street.

Boston’s first “Bowditch School” was located on South Street, not too far from where the family had made their home, beginning in 1861. In 1874 the school was relocated to nearby East Street, with the free-standing South Street schoolhouse eventually replaced by a row of three, 5-story loft buildings under the trusteeship of one Charles Bowditch et. al. The East Street institution survived until 1884.

Nathaniel I. Bowditch served as the President of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences from 1829 until his death in 1838. Awarded an honorary Master of Arts from Harvard in 1802—most likely coinciding with his publication of The Practical Navigator—Bowditch received the degree of LL.D. from Harvard in 1816, and was made a Fellow of the Corporation of Harvard in 1826. At the time of his death he was working on a translation of the 4th volume of La Place’s Mechanique Celeste.

Members of the Bowditch family such as Henry Pickering and Jonathan Pickering, grandsons of Nathaniel, resided on a large estate on Pond Street, Moss Hill, in Jamaica Plain, perhaps providing another clue to the origin of the school’s name. J. Ingersoll Bowditch, President of the American Insurance Company, was the first family member to be listed at that address, in the Boston Directory for 1856. These later members of the Bowditch family continued to provide support for the school named after their ancestor. A plaque mentioned by the City Art Commission, which has since disappeared, read: “In Grateful Appreciation of the Generosity of Charles P. Bowditch by the Bowditch Teachers.” Henry Bowditch, Charles’ brother, was a long-time member of the School Committee.

In summary, the Bowditch School played an important role in the education advancement of Jamaica Plain citizens for over ninety years. The school is a prime example of the endeavors of various Boston City departments, through the Architects Department, the School Board and the Art Commission, as well as the local citizenry, to provide high-level educational and cultural opportunities for the students. Additionally, the Bowditch School is a fine example of the work of prominent local architect and long-time politician, Harrison Henry Atwood.

Verbal Boundary Description

The Bowditch School occupies an irregularly-shaped lot at the corner of Green Street and Cheshire Street in the Jamaica Plain section of Boston. It is bounded on the southwest by Green Street, 195.56’; on the northwest by Cheshire Street, 175’; on the northeast by another lot, 69’; again on the northwest by this same lot, 2’; again on the northeast by this same lot and another lot, 66.86’; on the southeast by another lot, 89.53’; again on the northeast by this same lot and another lot, 63.8’; again on the southeast by two other lots, 99.7’.

Boundary Justification

The boundary defining the Bowditch School site is shown on the attached Boston Redevelopment Authority map. The site was acquired by the City of Boston through three separate real estate transactions. The legal boundary for each parcel, from northwest to southeast, was established in Suffolk country Deed 1923:136, Norfolk Country Deed 316:58, and Suffolk Country Deed 4572:242.

Major Bibliographical References

Periodicals and Newspapers
“Atwood, Harrison Henry,” Obituary, The Boston Globe, October 23, 1954.
“Atwood, Harrison Henry,” Obituary, The New York Times, October 23, 1954.
Hill, Charles Willard, Memorial Meeting, “Record of a Useful Life,” The Boston Herald, November 23, 1896.
“Keller, Dr. Elizabeth C.,” Obituary, The Boston Evening Transcript, November 29, 1912.
Lahr, Ellen G., “City Wants to Change Bowditch Sale Terms, Says Developer Group,” Jamaica Plain Citizen, March 28, 1985.
Menzies, Ian, “A Brighter (housing) Picture for Artists,” The Boston Globe, December 26, 1983.
Satinsky, Dan and O’Malley, Tom, “Bowditch School: A Chance for Affordable Housing,” The Boston Business Journal, December 16, 1895.

Books
American Art Annual, New York: American Federation of Arts, 1923.
Austin, Arthur W., Address at the Dedication of the Townhouse at Jamaica Plain, West Roxbury, Boston: Alfred Mudge & Sons, 1868.
Bacon, Edwin M., ed., Bacon’s Dictionary of Boston, Boston:1883. Boston Directories
Bromley, G.W., Atlas of West Roxbury, 1890, 1896, 1914, 1924.
Bunting, Bainbridge, House of Boston’s Back Bay, Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard, 1967.
Chandler, Francis W., Municipal Architecture in Boston, Boston: Bates & Guild Co., 1898.
Crawford, Mary Caroline, Famous Families of Massachusetts, Boston: Little Brown & Co., 1930.
Damrell, Charles, A Half Century of Boston’s Building, Boston: Louis P. Hager, 1895.
Hamlin, A.D.F., Modern Schoolhouses, New York: The Swetland Publishing Co., 1910.
Harrell, Pauline Chase and Smith, Margaret Supplee, Victorian Boston Today: 10 Walking Tours, New England chapter/Victorian Society in American, 1975.
Herlihy, Elisabeth M., ed., Fifty Years of Boston, Boston: Subcommittee on the Memorial History of Boston Tercentenary, 1932.
Herndon, Richard, Boston of Today, Boston: Post Publishing Co., 1892.
Hewitt, Lewis J., Achievements of New England Architects and Engineers, Boston: Southgate Press, 1927.
Jamaica Plain, Boston: The Boston 200 Corporation, 1976.
Langtry, Albert, ed. Metropolitan Boston: A Modern History, New York: Lewis Historical Publishing Co., 1929.
Massachusetts Superior Court, Commonwealth vs. Peabody, Testimony of Harrison H. Atwood December 1895-January 1896, Boston: L.H. Lane, Printer, 1899.
Mayors of Boston: An Illustrated epitome of Who the Mayors Have Been and What They Have Done, Boston: State Street Trust Co., 1914.
Norfolk County Deeds: 111:210; 115:226, 281; 144:218; 147:96, 293; 157:282; 173:223; 209:299; 316:58; 321:20.
Rand, John C., One of a Thousand, Boston: First National Publishing Co., 1890.
Record of the Streets, Alleys, Places, Etc. in the City of Boston, Boston: Municipal Printing Office, 1902.
Scully, Vincent J., The Shingle Style and the Stick Style, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1955.
Stanley, E.O., Boston and Its Suburbs, Boston: 1888.
Strayer, George D., Report of a Survey of the Public Schools of Boston, Massachusetts, Boston: City Printing Department 1944.
Suffolk Country Deeds: 1418:6; 1672:548; 1923:136; 4572:242; 4794:122.
Tucci, Douglass Shand, The Second Settlement, 1875-1925. A Study in the Development of Victorian Dorchester, Milford, MA: Charlescraft Press, 1974.
Tucci, Douglass Shand, Built in Boston, City and Suburb, Boston: New York Graphic Society, 1978.
Wade, Rufus, School Houses and Public Buildings, Commonwealth of Massachusetts, State Department of Inspection, 1893.
Warner, Sam Bass, Streetcar Suburbs, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press and MIT Press, 1962.
Wheelwright, Edmund March, Annual Report of the Architect Department, 1892, 1893, 1894, 1895, Boston: Rockwell & Churchill, City Printers.
Wheelwright, Edmund March, School Architecture, Boston: The Barta Press, 1901.
Who’s Who In New England, Chicago: A.N. Marquis & Co., 1909, Albert Nelson Marquis, Editor.

Additional Sources: City Resources and Documents
Boston Art Commission, Annual Reports, City Document #2: 1912, 1914, 1918, 1920.
Boston Landmarks Commission, Ashmont Hill Study Report, 1979.
Boston Landmarks Commission, Dorchester/Mattapan Survey, 1979.
Boston Landmarks Commission, Jamaica Plain Preservation Study, June 1983.
Boston Public Library, Fine Arts Reference, Architect and Address Index Cards.
Boston Public Library, Government Documents, Boston City Documents, Boston: Rockwell & Churchill, City Printers, 1886-92.
Inspectional Services Department, City of Boston, 1010 Massachusetts Avenue.
Massachusetts State Archives, Call #B-5-11, #7429, concerning 1945 renovations.
Public Facilities Department, Surplus Property Files, 26 Court Street, Boston

Boylston Schul-Verein and the German Saturday School

The Boylston Schul-Verein was granted its charter by the General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts on September 17, 1874. This official date of incorporation was preceded by an initiative of a number of citizens of German descent living in the Boylston Station section of Jamaica Plain to found a club in 1871. The club had its beginning under the name The Independent German Club of West Roxbury. The club proceeded to purchase land at 45 Danforth Street [currently the site of Spontaneous Celebrations], Jamaica Plain in 1873 and in 1874 constructed its first club house.

During its formative years, the Boylston Schul-Verein included a German language class for children of members (and neighbors), a drama club, Gymnasium (High School) and a singing group.  Its charter then, as today, charges the club with “the physical and intellectual development of German American youth, as well as the social organization of its adults for the pursuit of general humane, civil, cultural and political welfare of the American way of life” (Constitution and By-Laws of the Boylston Schul-Verein). Today, the Boylston Schul-Verein has become the center of German-American social, cultural, and educational activities and programs in Eastern Massachusetts.

From its infancy, the German Saturday School has been an integral part of the Boylston Schul-Verein. The School was started by several German musicians to include August Fiedler (uncle of Arthur Fiedler, prominent former conductor of the Boston Pops) and Carl Ludwig (grandfather of Carl Ludwig, who was a former Chairman of the School Administration, and also was a previous President of the Association of American Teachers of German and the Boylston Schul-Verein). It is the oldest language school for children in Massachusetts.

In 1881, the Boston Symphony was founded. In its early days, the Boston Symphony was successful in attracting many German musicians from Berlin. Eager to maintain their culture and language in the foreign land many of the German musicians became members of the Boylston Schul-Verein. They assisted in various ways, especially in teaching the German language and occasionally performed an impromptu concert for the enjoyment of the members.

In the beginning, classes were held on Sunday mornings as the normal school week was six days. Accordingly, the school was called German Sunday School. In its first year, the school had 75 students. The first principal was Professor Koler, a German teacher from the German Evangelical School.

“The gymnastics instruction, at first thought to be for boys only, generated so much interest that a girls class was scheduled for Saturday afternoons. The boys went on Sunday mornings, as part of their German Language instruction. Not only were children of members enrolled in the school but neighborhood playmates from non-German speaking families attended. The Boylston Station section of Jamaica Plain became a beehive of activity centered around the original Sonnabend Schule. ” (Karl Ludwig, Die Brücke).

Initially, students were taught free of charge. In order to support the school, parents organized many fundraisers i.e. during the late 19th century, mothers would knit and sell the finished products at a bazaar. The school furniture, being desks with ink wells were donated by Dr. Zakrzevska. Later the school hired and paid for trained teachers.

On February 17, 1877, Karl Schurz, American Ambassador to Spain and a member of President Lincoln’s cabinet, visited the German Sunday School.

When the six-day school week came to an end, the teaching of German was moved to Saturday and hence the School has since been called the German Saturday School.

During World War I the school did not function because of the prevailing anti- German sentiments. From 1937 to 1939 the School was located in Roxbury. Because of anti-German feelings even among Germans, the school was closed again in 1940.

A New Beginning

The German Saturday School reopened in 1959 on the initiative of the German Consul General Dr. Günther Motz and Vice Consul Elfriede Krüger. The consul’s secretary, Ruth Schwab, became one of the first teachers and the first class took place at the consulate.  This was a time of German renaissance with the Goethe Institute coming to Boston and the founding of the Goethe Society.

The revived school was designed as a language school for children from all countries with an emphasis on language and culture rather than German identity. Richard Penta, the first pedagogical advisor to the School and teacher at Belmont High School as well as German professors Erich Bude from Boston University, and Harry Zohn from Brandeis University helped to design a curriculum that would complement the high school curriculum of local schools in Brookline, Cambridge, Belmont, Lexington etc. and prepare students to gain advanced placement in high school or college. After the initiative of the consulate, the school became part of the Boylston Schul-Verein and was run by volunteer parents who were also members of the Verein.

A steering committee took form, led by Boylston Schul - Verein President, Carl Ludwig, and including his chosen collaborators, Kurt Schenck and George Schaub. The German Consulate General lent its continuous support through its representatives, in succession, Hans Joerg, Siegfried Frank, and Otto Meyer. Beginning in the mid 1960’s, the Goethe Institute provided its services in testing the qualifications of candidates for the teaching staff of the German Saturday School.

The student body which started with children of German immigrants in the early beginnings, changed to a more international background. In 1983, students came from 25 different countries and about 50% were of German extraction. They were also rather successful in achieving the goals set out by founders in 1959. Students in the higher grades participated in the annual Association of American Teachers of German (AATG) Tests. In 1983, many reached 100% achievements with a class average of 84% in German II and 91% in German III. Seven students also took the College Board Advanced Placement Test.

In 1988, 90 students, six to sixteen years old were enrolled; half of them of German ancestry. Today the majority of the students of the German Saturday School - Boston claim German heritage with 87 parents out of 127 families coming from Germany, Austria or Switzerland, 137 parents are American and 29 parents come from other countries ranging from Korea, India, Iran, Poland, Albania, Belgium to Mexico. Most of the families live in the greater Boston area, although a few families travel from as far away as New Hampshire, Rhode Island and many parts of Massachusetts some of them driving 60+ minutes every Saturday to get to school.

English is the dominant language spoken in the home of most students. A few families come from Germany for a limited amount of time, working as university professors or business people. For those students it is important to recognize that they are not alone in Boston, that there are other children who speak the language. For American students and many children from all over the world, the school opens a new world.

Boston University provided the classrooms for the original 27 students. Rooms were at the School of Liberal Arts on Commonwealth Avenue. There was an interruption during the school year 1973-74 when the school was at the University of Massachusetts at 250 Stuart Street in Boston. From there the school moved to the School of Nursing Building at 635 Commonwealth Avenue. For the school year 1988-89, when the School of Nursing was closed as it became “victim of unfair competition from state-subsidized nursing schools” (John Silber), the school went to its current location, the School of General Studies at 871 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston.

For the school year 1984-85 and 1985-86, the school offered a second location with one class at the Boylston Schul-Verein in Walpole. This effort was discontinued the following year as the class would have had to be split, and the resulting small class sizes made it economically unfeasible to continue the program. In addition, a shortage of German teachers made it difficult to find qualified faculty to teach the classes and under the guidelines of the sponsorship by the German Government the location was not eligible for their grant. Thus, the classes were consolidated again onto the B.U. campus.

Since its reopening in 1959, the school has been funded through grants by the German Government, tuition payments, the support from parents, the Boylston Schul-Verein, and Boston University. The school is governed by a School Administration which consists of volunteers. Directors in the 1960s and 1970s were Siegfried Frank, Carl Ludwig, Eric Wellner and Helmut Henneberg. Henry Athanasiou was Director from 1978 to 1985 followed by Walter Matson, mathematics teacher at Assabet Valley High School in Marlboro from 1985-86 to 1989-90. Dr. Joan Murray, Professor of German at Regis College was Director from 1990-91 to 1997-98 with the current Director being Paul Konetzny, Director of EDI Application at Staples, Inc. Many of the former directors received the Verdienstkreuz am Bande des Verdienstordens der Bundesrepublik Deutschland.

Walter Matson took over the school as Director after a short reign by Dr. Bernard Hall as President of the School during the school year 1984-85. Under his guidance, the school investigated the assignment of a separate tax identification to be able to operate as a non-profit organization independent from the Boylston Schul-Verein. This initiative never materialized and ultimately resulted in a $3,700 operating deficit of the School which was borrowed from the Boylston Schul-Verein and repaid over the following two years.

Up until 1994, registration took place on the first day of school. With a growing student population, this method was no longer feasible and registration by mail was introduced. In 1998, 90% of registrations were by mail. This allowed the administration to plan the number of classes and teachers needed. Before then, these decisions were made on the first day of school after everybody was registered.

The School’s annual events, the Christmas Party and the Abschlussfeier represent a tradition going back to the 1960’s. While these events have taken place at the Boylston Schul-Verein in recent years especially since the construction of a new facility in Walpole in 1989, these events used to be in different locations: i.e. the 1967 Abschlussfeier was held at the Workmen’s Hall in Norwood, Massachusetts, the 1968 and 1971 Christmas Party was at Boston University, Sherman Union, Commonwealth Avenue, Boston. The 1973 and 1974 Abschlussfeier were celebrated at the Broadmeadow School in Needham.

The Curriculum

In the 1960’s, the curriculum was focused on conversational German and geared toward enhancing the German skills students had learned overseas or at their local high school. The teachers had a lot of academic freedom in offering a program that fit the needs of the students. Lessons lasted two hours. In the 1970’s, the lesson plan was expanded to three hours, and more emphasis was placed on the study of grammar. The school used the book Auf Deutsch Bitte in conjunction with slides and other visual materials. A portion of the school day was also devoted to games.

Over time, it became clear that a more formal program was needed. In the 1980’s the school’s curriculum was based on the Harcourt Brace Jovanovich German Series with the book Unsere Freunde and “Die Welt der Jugend” and the Sprachheft 1 & 2 of Hueber Verlag (upper grades) and Komm, Bitte Kurs 1, 2, 3, Bild und Wort from Hueber Verlag (lower grades). Visual materials were provided by the Consulate General’s library which provided a variety of films related to history and culture.

While first graders learned vocabulary with flash cards and group plays, the highest grades engaged in the reading of 20th century literature (i.e. Boell, Hesse, Waiser, Zweig), poems and ballads by Goethe & Schiller and ultimately prepared for the Sprachdiplom offered by the Ministry of Education, of the former Federal Republic of Germany. On the average, students remained in the school for about five years, moving to the next higher level each year.

In 1986, the German Saturday School became a member of the German Language School Conference (Interessengemeinschaft Deutscher Sprachschulen) which itself was founded in 1978 with the purpose to support and coordinate German Language Schools in the U.S.  The School continues its membership to this day and takes advantage of the many programs offered by the Conference, in particular, workshops for the teachers. The School also receives support through this organisation in its annual request for books.

In 1992-93, the School introduced the series Wer Wie Was on recommendation of the Academic Advisor of the German government Hans Georg Salm and the German Language School Conference (GLSC). This book allowed for a consistent approach throughout the different grade levels with a series of four books. In addition, teachers continued to bring in additional materials to supplement the lesson plan. For the school year 1999-00, a new book Das Deutschmobil will be introduced.

The German Saturday School is also a member of the AATG (Assocation of American Teachers of German) and administers its annual AATG Test for the upper grades during the month of January. The Sprachdiplom was administered for the first time during the school year 1990-91.

The Youngest Students

For many years parents requested a German speaking program for the preschool and Kindergarten age siblings of their older brothers and sisters who were attending the German Saturday School. Upon the arrival of Donna Giromini during the school year 1990-91, the German Saturday School could finally realize this dream. Consequently, the School added a class for the younger children (ages 4 to 6). Soon, the number of children attending required that two Kindergarten classes were offered with mostly four year-olds in one class and five-year olds in another.

With the advent of the book “Jump into German” in 1992 which was introduced for grades 1 to 3, the younger grades were also integrated into this project teaching method. Each week specific themes and vocabulary were introduced, thereby building vocabulary from year to year. With the help of Annemarie Weicker, a suitable selection of stories, games and art projects was worked out for use in these groups. The curriculum for the younger grades was gradually enriched with many new initiatives from teachers and parents. Karin Lemmermann came on board and developed the crafts aspect of the curriculum. Krisjann VanOpdorp started the Deutsche Elternbücherei allowing for the continuation of the curriculum at home. She also began to visit the lower grades to read a story from the Elternbücherei supporting the Thema der Woche.

The classes of the lower grades have also been aided by a music program which started with a volunteer parent Victoria Morrow playing the guitar. Angela Evans added new songs and during the school year 1995-96, Birgit Danckert joined the faculty as classroom teacher and officially became the School’s music specialist providing a music program for all the lower grades. In 1998, she recorded all her music on a cassette with an accompanying book available for the parents to allow them to sing with their children. The music program follows the thematic ideas of each lesson.

In the mid 90’s the use of videos in the class room became possible. The School bought a video recorder, and the Elternbücherei provided the videos many of which were recorded in Austria, Germany or Switzerland by parents visiting Europe. A video converter was purchased to allow viewing on the American TV system. This new practice introduced the children to German children’s programming such as Augsburger Puppenkiste, Die Sendung mit der Maus, Asterix, German fairy tales, and German cartoons as well as many American shows such as Sesamstrasse and Walt Disney movies familiar to the children which are popular with the German children as well.

The Deutsche Elternbücherei

The Deutsche Elternbücherei was founded by parents under the direction of Krisjann VanOpdorp with the mission to facilitate parents and children to continue to learn German together outside of school. The Elternbücherei was first offered to parents of the lower Grades (1 and 2) in 1992-93, and during its first year registered 21 families with 29 students. By the end of the school year, the German Early School Library (its original name) was the proud owner of 143 titles which were bequeathed by the German Saturday School, purchased from membership contributions, and donated by member families. The following school year, the library was expanded to include students at all class levels. Today, the Deutsche Elternbücherei has 83 families with 121 children. The Elternbücherei is also an excellent resource for the teachers.

Parents donate books, original videos, audiocassettes in German and raise funds via a nominal annual membership fee to purchase additional materials in Germany. These funds are supplemented by the annual Dankeschoen Program for the teachers of the school. Families will donate a book, audiocassette, videotape or make a financial contribution to the library in honor of their child’s teacher prior to the holiday season as well as at the end of the school year. Since 1996, the library organizes a flea market soliciting donations with proceeds of the flea market going to defray administrative expenses of the library. Throughout the years, the library has made substantial additions to its collection via purchases and many donations. The collection kept growing over the years and in 1999 it had approximately 1,000 books, 150 audio-cassettes and 300 videos. During the school year 1998-99, with the help of Andrea Alves the library established a computer software corner adding CD ROMs of children’s software in German to its collection.

With the increasing number of materials, it became more challenging to keep the library organized. The biggest challenge has been to set up and take down all the books, cassettes and videos every Saturday morning. Parent volunteers accomplish this task. They also label the new books, videos and audio cassettes, repair the existing inventory and keep a complete database on a computer. Each book is color coded and carries a symbol for the year it was acquired. Materials are displayed by subject i.e. picture books, fairy tales, poetry and music, stories and novels, educational books and beginners’ Thema der Woche. Books are also sorted by age groups and cover such diverse topics as holidays, seasons, house and home and geography.

Today, the Elternbücherei has become an integral part of the school and is probably one of the best German children’s libraries in the USA.

Student Enrollment

As the chart below shows, enrollment in the German Saturday School Boston changed considerably over the years. From 1960, when the school had 27 students, interest in the school climbed considerably until 1983-84 when a high of 155 students was reached. With the passing of Proposition 2 1/2 in the Massachusetts State Legislature, funding for schools declined, and many language programs in local schools were cut. As a result, the interest in the German Saturday School as a means to enhance the local school programs diminished as well resulting in a drop in enrollment to 90 students in 1988.

In an effort to increase enrollment at the school, the Director Walter Matson actively advertised the school via the Boylston Schul-Verein, the Goethe Institute and the Goethe Gesellschaft and placing advertisements in various newspapers including the Boston Globe, the Middlesex News and the Transcript Publications Dedham.

This trend was reversed with the introduction of a curriculum for younger grades, coupled with a renewed interest in the German language after the unification of Germany in 1989. The recent economic expansion has helped as well so that today we have an all time record number of 188 students.

Fees were much lower in the late 70’s and early 80’s as funds from the German Government on a percentage of the total budget were much higher and the parents were more active in fundraising i.e. providing items for sale at the annual bazaar during the Open House and the Octoberfest of the Boylston Schul-Verein. In order to raise money, members of the parents committee sold folk costumes and pants, T-shirts, pencils and buttons and asked parents for donations. In recent years, fundraising has become more limited to the sale of advent calendars at the School and at the Holiday Bazaar at the Boylston Schul- Verein as well as the sale of Stollen for the Christmas season.

Year Enrollment Tuition Director
1874 75 free Mr. Koler
1960 27    
1971-72 101 $36 Carl Ludwig
1982-83 155   Henry Athanasiou
1988-89 90 $180 Walter Matson
1990-91 120   Dr. Joan Murray
1995-96 156 $410 Dr. Joan Murray
1996-97 171 $420 Dr. Joan Murray
1998-99 188 $420 Paul Konetzny


During the most recent decade the student population more than doubled from 90 students in 1988 to 188 students today. While we celebrate the 250th birthday of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Bundesrepublik Deutschland and the 10th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, it appears that the study of the German language has found renewed interest. The German Saturday School is at full capacity with 15 classes, 13 of which are at full or excess capacity. For the first time, the school is no longer able to accept all students and had to start a waiting list. Also, for the first time it has become a very realistic endeavor to start a full-time German School in the Boston area.

April 1999. Boston.

Sources: The Boylston Schul-Verein, by Carl Ludwig, in Germans in Boston, published by Goethe Society of New England; Die Geschichte the Deutschen Sonnabendschule, by Martina Janisch, in 1983 Jahrbuch der Deutschen Sonnabendschule (first Yearbook); Profiles of the German Saturday School by Arnim von Friedburg, 1989; The History of the Boylston Schul-Verein, Boylston Schul Verein Membership Information 1994; The History of the Boylston Schul-Verein, by Carl Ludwig, in Die Brücke; Sachbericht for the school years 1971-72, 1972-73, 1985-86, 1986-87, 1996-97 and 1997-98; Annual Report to the Boylston Schul-Verein for 1984-85; 8-85 German Saturday School Status Report, Program marks closing of BU Nursing School, The Boston Sunday Globe, May 1, 1988; 1979-80, 1985 and 1987 School Brochure, The Boylston Schul-Verein News 12/68, 12/71, 5/84; Ein Mauerblümchen Regt Sich, in Begegnung 2/1981.

Special thanks go to Gustav Scheer, previous treasurer of the German Saturday School and former President of the Boylston Schul-Verein who provided access to historical records including the Erblass of Carl Ludwig (former Director of the School and former President of the Boylston Schul-Verein), Dr. Joan Murray (former Director of School), Dr. John Wells (Professor of German Emeritus, Tufts University), Paula Wells (former employee of German Consulate General-Boston) , Dr. Klaus Miczek (current member of School Administration), Donna Giromini (current teacher), Krisjann VanOpdorp (current member of School Administration), Annemarie Weicker (previous head teacher), Dan Evans, (previous Treasurer), Andrea Alves (current Registrar), Susanne Haller (previous teacher), Richard Penta (academic advisor in the 1960’s and 70’s), Irmgard Hicks (Goethe Institut Boston, former teacher), Bodo Reinisch (member of School Administration 1973 to 1998) and Siegfried Frank (previous Director in the 1960’s).

By Helga M. Lyons. © Copyright German Saturday School Boston, http://www.germansaturdayschoolboston.org, reprinted with permission.

Brandegee Estate and Boston Mounted Police Unit

by John Ruch

This article originally appeared in the August 14, 2009 issue of the Jamaica Plain Gazette and is used with permission. Copyright Gazette Publications

When people talk about the Boston Police stable—and they have a lot lately, with the disbanding of the police horse unit—few of them know the term doesn’t do the place justice. Tucked away on a corner of the Brandegee Estate on the Boston/Brookline border at 165 Allandale St., the stable is likely Jamaica Plain’s least-known grand historic building.


   
An architectural beauty inside and out, the 115-year-old neo-classical stable looks more like a fine house. It was “the mansion for the horses,” said Officer James Naughton, the JP native who oversees the stable’s administrative offices, last week on a Gazette tour of the property.
   
And, though the horses are gone, it’s still a home. Police dogs still train there, sniffing out suspects in exchange for tennis balls and treats, as they have since the Brandegee family donated the first K-9 unit dogs 45 years ago.
   
“You don’t find buildings built like this anymore,” said Officer Troy Caisey, whose work as the K-9 Unit’s head instructor helps keep the stable a piece of living history.
   
A new chapter in that history is being written with the controversial dissolution of the Mounted Unit, whose own history predates the stable by 20 years. The Gazette has learned that JP photographer Richard Wilkins, without any publicity, documented the final months of the Mounted Unit in hundreds of photos—including possibly the only full documentation of the unit’s historic “last ride,” a final parade through JP’s Arnold Arboretum.
   
The horse stalls seem to have passed into history now, standing empty except for the two cats that earn their living the old-fashioned way, by mouse-catching. But the Brandegee family foundation that owns the estate considers the horse section to be in limbo and will keep it in police hands awaiting a possible return of the Mounted Unit, according to Charles Boit, a foundation board member who lives across the street.
   
“I don’t know what other use you could put the property to,” Boit told the Gazette.

Magnificent Building
Allandale Farm, which operates a roadside stand farther down Allandale Street, is the public face of the Brandegee Estate. Also owned by the family’s trust, it sprawls across more than 100 acres of Brookline and JP, making it Boston’s last working farmland.
   
But much more survives on the estate acquired in 1891 by Mary Pratt, who married clothing manufacturer Edward Brandegee a few years later. Mary was a member of the Welds, the ancient Boston family that owned vast tracts of JP-area farmland in the 1600s. Her estate brought some old Weld lands back into the family fold—including today’s Allandale Woods urban wild park, across the street from the stable. That land was once owned by the Southers, whose long-lost mansion Allandale gave the road its name.
   
The Brandegees built a lavish mansion of their own deep in the heart of their estate, currently rented by Brookline’s Dexter School as administrative offices.
   
Around 1893, Mary built the stable—a facility so fine that visitors often mistake it for the Brandegee mansion, Naughton said. That is, if they notice the stable at all. It is set back and facing away from the road, screened behind trees, with no street signs advertising its use. An imposing gated drive leading to both the mansion and the stable is flanked by two of Boston’s surviving Victorian gas lamps.
   
The working entrance, set in the elbow where Allandale meets Elwell Road, has a smaller decorative iron gate hanging slightly askew. Visitors—who can come by invitation only—pass a red sign warning them of police dogs.
   
The stable is a two-story building with two wings, latticed windows on its massive main doors and decorative wooden trim designed to look like stone blocks. Painted in pastel blue and yellow, it would fit right in among Pondside’s mansions.
   
The inside features a dramatic, three-story atrium topped with a skylight and pierced by decorative round windows. The floors are of patterned wood, and the horse stalls were heated by a steam radiator—a virtually un-heard-of luxury in its time.
   
A curving ramp—designed for horses smaller than the police prefer—winds down from the first floor to the basement, where a hand-operated trap door once lowered carriages for storage. The upstairs hayloft has bins for custom-mixing grain, which was sent via wooden tubes to the stalls.
   
“It’s a magnificent building, no question,” said Boit, calling it a “landmark,” though it has no official historic designation. “We’re definitely dedicated to preserving it,” he said.
   
Preservation has hinged on active reuse. The late John Brandegee, Mary’s son, brought the K-9 and Mounted units to the stable in 1963-64, leasing it to the city for $1 a year.
   
“I don’t know what the genesis was,” Boit said of the police stable idea. But, he added, “It was a great way to reuse a building.”

Dog House
John Brandegee actually founded the K-9 Unit in 1963, buying its first three dogs out of some enthusiasm that appears lost to history. One of those dogs, Anchor, turned out to be too tame for policing and became the pet of longtime groundskeeper George Keyho.

The stable has an even older history as home to a different sort of canine unit.
   
“Mrs. Brandegee bred dogs,” which were kenneled in the stable, Boit said. But Mary preferred a gentlewoman’s breeds: poodles and Keeshonden.
   
German shepherds prowl the stable today, along with Dutch shepherds, Belgian Malinois and Labrador retrievers—the K-9 unit’s favored breeds. But the dogs don’t live there—they go home with their human partners.
   
The stable grounds are used to train the dogs—both from Boston Police and other departments—in patrolling, suspect-tracking and narcotics- and explosives-sniffing. Six wooden boxes with slits in them stand in one yard—places officers hide so dogs can practice sniffing for a suspect under the crack of a door. In another yard is the obstacle course, where dogs practice running up ramps and jumping through the window of a car door. And during the patrol-dog training, some lucky officer gets to put on padding and get his arm bitten.

The obstacle course is being rebuilt. The Gazette has learned that, as part of the same reorganization that ended the Mounted Unit, the K-9 Unit was going to be moved to Dorchester. That previously unpublicized move was headed off, but not before the obstacle course was dismantled.
   
The animals can be aggressive, but the training isn’t. To the dog, it’s all playtime.
   
“We don’t force them to do anything,” Caisey said. “We make it a game so the dog has more desire to do it.”
   
Early in the tour, the Gazette observed a police dog and his handler embarking on a simulated manhunt deep into the wooded grounds. Later, the dog returned with his man—and a tennis ball, his reward for a job well done.
   
Caisey wouldn’t bite when the Gazette asked for exciting dog stories, saying the main function of the dog is to discourage an adventurous criminal. “A lot of times, a dog barking in the car is an attitude-adjuster,” he said.
   
Not only are the dogs intimidating, so are their handler’s orders—which are always given in German. The unit’s German shepherds often really are from Germany, or elsewhere in Europe, where the police dog was first bred. “A lot of dogs are coming from the Czech Republic now,” Caisey said.
   
John Brandegee flew the unit’s original dogs in from Germany, Boit said, adding, “I suspect that was a little countercultural after World War II.”
   
Caisey’s new partner, a German shepherd named Bronson, happens to be American-born, and despite his fearsome job is a welcome member of the Caisey household.
   
Joining the K-9 Unit means having a partner who lives in your yard and demands constant attention and training. Caisey’s dogs even stay with him after retirement, where their active minds still crave training.
   
“When you’re trying to find an intelligent creature that’s trying to evade you…and just you and your dog find him, it’s rewarding,” Caisey said. And that professional satisfaction is “in addition to the head on the lap and the big brown eyes staring at you.”

Horse History

The Boston Police Mounted Unit was the nation’s first, founded in 1873. It was older than the Brandegee Estate, which it first called home in 1964.
   
Its 12 horses, 10 officers and nine civilian hostlers disappeared by June 30, the end of the fiscal year. But the stable still holds many reminders, giving it a haunted air.
   
The atrium is still lined with memorabilia of police horses past and just-past. It is dominated by a large drawing of Prescott, a police horse who lived for more than 30 years and served most of that time. Prescott, who died in 1994, was a gift from former Mayor Kevin White.
   
Officer Naughton still has plenty to do in his memento-packed office, but the end of the Mounted Unit clearly has taken a toll. “I was real distraught when it happened,” he said of the day the last horses were shipped out to the Plymouth County Sheriff’s Department.

Wilkins, the JP photographer, was there, too, as he had been two-dozen times since March, documenting the Mounted Unit’s last days.    

Members of a camera club he belongs to decided to document events in their neighborhoods, and Wilkins knew the police horses would be a good subject when we read about the possible elimination.
   
Wilkins said he frequently goes to Allandale Farm, but never knew the police stable was nearby. And as a 66-year-old African-American Bostonian, hanging out with cops wasn’t his natural inclination.
   
“As a black kid growing up in Boston…I had a clear idea of who police were and what I thought about them,” Wilkins said. But behind the scenes at the stable, he got to see officers as people and their bonds with animals.
   
“The last day, I got choked up,” he said. “It was people crying. It was a shame to see those bonds broken without any recognition of what it meant to people, what that relationship meant for people.”
   
Wilkins shot not only at the stable, but also at City Council hearings and anywhere else the Mounted Unit’s fate was discussed. That included its historic—but unpublicized and unofficial—last ride on June 17. “It was an incredible exercise trying to run after them,” he said of photographing the last ride’s route through Arnold Arboretum.
   
Wilkins’ usual work is portraits, including “family documentaries” in which he photographs families candidly at their homes during their normal activities, then gives them the images bound in a hardcover book. His documenting of the Mounted Unit’s last days has a similar family feel, and he is planning a book and exhibits based on it.
   
But, Wilkins said, he deliberately did not publicize his project while he was doing it, and intended to keep it secret until after this fall’s city elections. He said he did not want to get involved in the political dispute over the unit’s elimination, or have his photos become ammunition in it.
   
Wilkins said his opinion was that the Mounted Unit should be not only saved, but used more in outreach programs to urban youths. But, he said, he aimed for his project to be “as objective as possible.”

The horses may yet return. The contracts that sent them to Plymouth County, New York City or private owners require them to be sent back if the Mounted Unit reforms. Whoever the future residents of the Brandegee stable may be, they’ll find history alive and waiting.

 

Bussey Woods Murders

With the proliferation of weapons in crowded American neighborhoods in our time, murders-even of innocent children-seem part of news reports all too often. Has our area ever seen anything so gruesome in the past? Since this column is a mirror of things past, violent crimes must be included in its impartial light.

Even without combing police reports, one double murder in Jamaica Plain during its seemingly bucolic days stands out chillingly. In the words of the 1865-66 West Roxbury Town Report, “The murders in the town in the month of June, which so shocked the community, have given us an unenviable notoriety.” The killings took place in what is now the Arboretum.

For those who despair about current news reports, the words of a local resident speaking in 1878 of the murders set a continuity, “Of the many dark deeds of blood which have disgraced this age few have been fraught with more harrowing details than the one enacted right here.”

Isabella and John Joyce were the children of a Lynn dressmaker recently widowed. On Monday, June 12, 1865, they left their aunt’s home in the South End with a picnic basket and carfare for a day in the famed Jamaica Plain countryside.

They called on their grandmother at Newland and West Concord Streets and, at 11 a.m., left her house (still standing in the South End) never to be seen again alive. Their announced destination was May’s Woods along the present Arborway. Night came, and the unescorted picnickers (an action not then considered dangerous) did not return. A vigorous search was immediately made but was fruitless due to all the June greenery. It was not until the next Sunday that the children were found accidentally by some hikers in the Bussey Woods.

A view of Bussey Brook in the Arnold Arboretum, taken in 1949 by Professor Karl Sax, who was the Arboretum’s Director at the time. Photograph from the Archives of the Arnold Arboretum. Used with permission from the website of the Institute for Cultural Landscape Studies of the Arnold Arboretum
©The President and Fellows of Harvard College.


The Bussey Woods were part of an old 400-acre farm on both sides of Bussey Street, given by Benjamin Bussey to Harvard College for the horticultural institute. After several gyrations, 120 acres of the farm and woods would become the Arnold Arboretum with the Bussey Institute (now the State Lab) on one side. Somehow the children had arrived at the far end of the South Street side of the present Arboretum and had sought higher ground for a good view and their picnic. But this was before the grounds were planted and groomed by the Arboretum after 1882.

Isabella, age 15, was found in the hollow of a rock atop a hill. She had been stabbed 28 times, and (by contemporary account) “the murderer attempted a deed upon the body of the little girl” despite her efforts to fend him of. Her brother, age 8, was found later a quarter mile away by Bussey Brook in a condition that sickened Civil War veterans who viewed the body. It was surmised that just before noon he had left his sister, fallen, and finally been attacked by his sister’s murderer.

The children were brought back to Lynn for burial. Much sorrow and many efforts to find the criminal were generated by the shocking event-just two months after the assassination of President Lincoln. Rewards were offered by all authorities. Seven suspects were interrogated but released. The many visitors to the girl’s murder site raised a memorial cairn. In the process, any further clues were obliterated, with forensics still in its infancy. For the protection of all, a police beat was established in the Bussey Woods.

In March 1866 the Boston Weekly Voice reported a possible break in the case. A man of violent disposition had been arrested in August 1865 for burglary. While being held for trial in Fitchburg, he plotted to murder his guard and to escape with others. Known as Scratch Gravel, he stated that any man who had done “the Roxbury job” would not hesitate to kill again. His bravado about the children’s murder revolted another prisoner, who foiled the escape by telling authorities about Gravel’s entire conversation.

Upon his removal to State Prison for the burglary conviction, officials there attempted to get Gravel to speak directly-but in vain. He was transferred to a light work detail in hopes that he might talk with a trusted prisoner-again in vain. Finally a detective of supposed Southern sympathy was placed in Gravel’s cell in February 1866. Gravel liked his cellmate, and soon they were hatching a plan for escape. Gravel referred to “the Roxbury children” but never confessed to their murders.

The oddly named prisoner turned out to be an adopted lad, born in Boston, who went to sea at age 15. He had entered the Confederate Army after being pardoned from the South Carolina State Prison. Then he joined the Union Naval Forces, deserting one ship after another. A man like him was seen at Taft’s hotel in Roslindale less than a mile from Bussey Woods. The knife taken from him at Fitchburg could have wounded the Joyce children.

An aerial view of Bussey Woods in early days of the Arnold Arboretum.Used with permission from the American Environmental Photographs Collection, [AEP Image Number, e.g., AEP-MIN73], Department of Special Collections, University of Chicago Library.

Yet, the Boston police were not convinced by the prison warden’s reports that Gravel was their man. All his information could have come entirely from newspaper reports. If no stronger evidence came forth, Scratch Gravel (alias Charles Aaron Dodge) would be proved more of a braggart fool who embellished the basic information in the newspapers for his own reasons. Thus rested the matter of Jamaica Plain ‘s most heinous and unsolved murder until it took another bizarre turn.

The details of our area’s “terrible atrocity and barbarity,” fueled “a feeling of unprecedented horror” in the words of a book about the murders, published in Boston in 1878, some 13 years after the barbarity. “In a section as civilized, a community so guarded, a population so abundant, in the marginal outline of a great city” how could it have ever happen, asked the book.

The book’s author was Henry Johnson Brent (1811-80), who had founded and edited the New York City magazine, Knickerbocker, widely enjoyed from 1833 through the Civil War. In June 1865 he happened to be staying with friends within a few hundred yards of the murders. He wrote his book “Was It A Ghost” to focus attention again on the twin murders that had gone unsolved for more than a decade despite a vigilant police chief.

Brent himself had immediately become a suspect in the case because a boy told police that he had often seen a man of Brent’s description in the Bussey Woods with a knife and gun. Fortunately, Brent was also an artist, whose palette knife and gun practice was known in the neighborhood. He was also acquainted with the police force. For lack of any solid evidence, yet another suspect in the murders was free to go.

By the end of June 1865 the search for the murderer had worn itself out. A week or so later, in a bizarre personal twist, Brent saw a male apparition on the far side of his host’s property between Bussey and Motley Woods. This meeting, described in his book’s Chapter 10, will appear in the next column. Brent truly felt that the event was something beyond his ability to reconcile by the usual rules of explanation and that it deserved publication.

He had gone down to meet his host returning from Boston via Forest Hills, only to learn later that he had returned home via Centre Street at 10 p.m. Brent revisited the site of the apparition at 9 p.m., within half an hour of the event, but nothing more was seen nor found. Initially the apparition was definitely connected by Brent with his host, but during this second visit, which included a walk to the rock where Isabella Joyce had been murdered, Brent suddenly connected it with the murders.

He went with his story to a perplexed police chief, who urged him to publish it. The chief’s reaction was whether Brent recognized the male ghost. Was it a witness to the murders of the children’s recently deceased father?

Over time, Brent felt that he did know the face, as he was familiar with the police evidence. He never named a suspect but published his book.

He brought his book out so much later after the case had grown cold once he knew what clues the police had and after much thought. He hoped to stir up a renewed investigation and to goad the murderer, if still alive, into remorse and confession. The ghost story is the centerpiece of his book-rightly so, given the title. Yet “this book would never have been written if that misty figure had not confronted me on that night.”

Many Jamaica Plain residents must have had theories about the murders. Brent, believing the murderer still alive, did not state his complete details. The change from May’s Woods (as announced by the children) to the more secluded Bussey Woods prompted a suspicion that the children were accompanied by someone they knew. The streetcar fare was found near the girl; someone had paid their fare. There was little screaming, as men were mowing in the area and heard nothing.

In his latest chapter Brent notes the results of séances-so popular at the time-reported in the spiritualistic press. He notes a letter said to have been written by the murdered girl and another by her father. A communication from the boy also circulated. Though unacquainted with spiritualism, Brent felt in a sense of fair play that he had to include them with his ghostly account. He felt very bad that he had not been in the Bussey Woods at noontime of June 12, 1865, doing some target practice or painting.

Brent names his host only as Dan. Lot maps of the period show only two properties surrounded by the Motley-Bussey tracts: the Skinners and the Weatherbees by Centre and Walter Streets. Dan must have been a son in one of these families, which owned “a house that looked out on Centre Street with the rear giving view of a meadow watered by a tiny rivulet and on up to the Bussey Woods.”

Our author ends wondering about the ghost, “So strange an occurrence does not happen without an intention. What that intention was, I for one, if only one, shall patiently wait to see.” Two years later Henry J. Brent died in New York City with the murders yet unsolved. The writer in the Boston Sunday Times in November 1878 was incorrect in his reading of the book in his statement that Brent felt the children were murdered by something supernatural.

This brutal event, like so many others, has passed into legend. In April 1936 Boston Herald artist Jack Frost ran a sketch of 644 South Street in Roslindale. In his explanatory paragraph in his “Fancy This” column he states that a boarder at the house murdered two children in the nearby woods, then barricaded himself in his room and killed himself in remorse. So goes the last twist in Jamaica Plain’s most heinous crime.

Sources: H.J. Brent, “Was it a ghost;” Appleton’s Encyclopedia of National Biography; “Boston Herald,” April 2, 1936; “Boston Sunday Times,” Nov. 24, 1878, Boston Weekly Voice, March 15, 1856; Boston Sun Times, November 24, 1878; West Roxbury Town Report 1865-66, pg. 14.

By Walter H. Marx. Reprinted with permission from the November 5 and November 19, 1993 Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

Arboretum Ghost Story

The following event took place on a moonlit night at 8:30 p.m. some three weeks after the brutal murders of the Joyce children on June 12, 1865, in the Bussey Woods (now part of the Arnold Arboretum). It is described by JP visitor, H.J. Brent, in a book he wrote in 1878 entitled “Was It a Ghost?” in chapter 10, here abridged for the reader.

Upon a still and clear night I went out of the cottage, and, taking two dogs with me, strolled down through the stable yard and past the garden, until I came to the brow of the hill that formed the apex of my friend’s grasslands. The brow of the hill was flat all about me and at the base ran off into a meadow, the opposite side of which was overlooked by the Bussey Woods.

From where I stood, several pines rose out of the even surface of the forest, marking (as with an uplifted hand spread out) the place where the girl’s murder had been done. On my left was Motley’s Woods, drawing up with its intense shadows close to the dividing wall. From the wall to where I stood all was clear and distinct, save where the shadows fell over the ground.

The wall and the wood on my left ran down to that corner at Bussey Creek, which was only a short distance (about 50 feet) from the spot where the boy had fallen. Some 250 yards away and close to the corner just mentioned was a clump of trees, and then straight before me without an intervening object, the dark wood gloomed over the rock of the girl’s death. My purpose was simply to take the cooling air from the winnowing trees.

It was the habit of my host, who did business in Boston, of leaving the train at Forest Hills Station at 9 o ‘clock as a general thing and keeping to South Street until he got to the bottom of the hill near to where the brook crosses the road. He would then enter the lowlands at the outskirts of Bussey Woods and thence follow the path and up the hillside covered by Motley’s Woods, keeping close to the wall until he reached the point of the wall near which I was standing, pass over it and be home.

Knowing that my host was irregular as to his hours of return home at night, I was not surprised when I saw a figure lean over the wall for an instant within about 20 feet of me, pause a moment, and then cross over to the side on which I was. Seeing that he stopped, I spoke aloud these words, “Hello, Dan, is that you?”

Though I could discover the figure and recognize its movements, there was too great a shade thrown over the wall to enable me to distinguish a face so familiar to me. To my appeal there was no reply, and then in an instant the impression came upon me that if it really was my friend, he was testing my nerves. Up to this moment I never had a thought apart from him.

While I stood perfectly motionless, waiting for some recognition of my appeal, the figure advanced slowly in a direct line from the wall, leaving the shadow, and stopped before me and not 20 feet away from me. I saw at once that it was somebody I had never seen before. When in the light without even a weed to obstruct my vision, as soon as he stopped, I called, “Speak or I will fire!”

It was at this period that I observed especially the behavior of the dogs. Up to this time they had been quiet, lying on the grass, but now they both got up, and I felt on each side of me the pressure of their bodies. They were evidently frightened, and I saw that they were looking with every symptom of terror at the figure that stood so near us without a motion.

The figure never once turned its head directly toward me but seemed to fix its look eastward over where the pine-trees broke the clear horizon on the murder-hill. This inert pose was preserved but for a moment, for as quick as the flash of gunpowder it wheeled as upon a pivot and, making one movement as of a man commencing to step out toward the wall, was gone!

To my vision it never crossed the space between where it had stood and the outline of the shade thrown by the trees upon the ground. One step after turning was all I saw, and then it vanished. What I saw I relate exactly as it happened. Can I describe this figure you will ask?

It looked like painted air. There was no elaborate appearance, indeed I could not make out the fashion of the garment. I was more occupied in the effort to recognize a human being in the figure that was before me. He looked dark grey from head to foot. Body he had, legs, arms, and a head, but the face I could not distinctly see, as he turned it from me.

By Walter H. Marx. Reprinted with permission from the December 3, 1993 Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

Civil War Monument and Streets

A Well-Known Landmark
By Walter H. Marx


Fitting it is to die on behalf of one's country. - Horace, Odes 111. 2

As Memorial Day was founded in 1868 to honor the dead of the Civil War, it is entirely appropriate this week to focus on JP's most familiar landmark, the Monument at the intersection of South and Centre Streets. Officially it is the Soldier's Monument in West Roxbury, since our area was part of Norfolk County.

Under her ardent war governor, John A. Andrew, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts raised $42,000,000 for the war effort and sent 159,000 sailors and soldiers to the Civil War. Of this number, 46 from the town of West Roxbury went off never to return, buried from the shores of Texas to the valleys of Pennsylvania.

The Reports of the Town of West Roxbury from the Committee on the Soldier's Monument best describe our Monument's origin. First is the 1869/70 Report, noting the appointment of a committee of eight men to erect "a suitable monument or memorial tablet in honor of the West Roxbury men who lost their lives in the service of their country during the Rebellion." This was done in accordance with the wishes of a Town Meeting held on November 5, 1869.

The Committee quickly fell to work and in its debut in the same Town Report had a site chosen and had procured plans and estimates for several types of monuments. It was determined by a majority vote (often done elsewhere) that $15,000 was needed for the memorial. In addition, the Committee had established a list of the dead of the town - interestingly, with no sailors among them despite our coastal location. Although more than 40 were found, only 23 who had been actual residents of the town at enlistment were inscribed.

West Roxbury was a well-to-do town and her unmatched memorial produced a revered area like a templum of the ancients with sacred ground and building. The triangular piece of soil that was chosen had been given to the town for our area's first schoolhouse in 1676 and had always been set off from its surroundings. Surely it was the center of the town with the new town hall (Curtis Hall), having been built in 1868 diagonally across the street. The Monument is in the Gothic style of architecture and lends itself a solemn but awe-inspiring tone.

This tone is confirmed by the granite construction: a three-step base of dark Quincy granite. 11 x 11 x 3 supports the steeple-like superstructure of bright-gray Clark's Island (Plymouth) granite. The steeple's base is nicely worked with the Federal shield, and from these rise pinnacles carved with cannon, guns, swords, or anchors - a naval reminiscence at least. Bronze finials cap the pinnacles at 20 feet. The steeple's interior was left open to produce a "holy of holies" as in Solomon's temple at Jerusalem.

Approached by a step is a platform, on which like the Ark of the Covenant stands in gleaming contrast to the rest of the Monument. A white marble block that is still fairly legible. It is inscribed on three sides with 23 names along with the rank, army unit, date and occasion of death, as given in the Town Reports. Even with just these 23 the course of the Civil War is seen. The fourth side noted the Monument's being in the words of the 1869 Town Meeting.

Above each of the aches leading into the interior are gables inscribed with names: Lincoln, Andrew, Farragut (the naval connection again), and Thomas (the original donor of the land), but more probably (to represent the Army) Virginia-born Gen. George Henry Thomas (1816-70), "the Rock of Chickamauga" and hero of the Tennessee theatre.

A solid octagonal dome concludes the steeple effect standing above carved festoons of stone drapery caught up by rosettes at each angle. Finally, the gem of all military memorials: a fine seven-foot granite statue of a Union soldier, leaning in pensive attitude upon his rifle at guard rest.

Joseph Sala did this still-fresh statue, while the architect of the whole was W. W. Lummus. The total height is 27 feet. The cost, as noted in the last Town Report for 1873/4 was nearly $22,000 with $3,500 for the statue.

The Monument was dedicated on September 14, 1871: "A fine day with no accidents and the entire observances were of a quiet, serious, and impressive character well suitable for the occasion," notes the commemorative booklet for the day.

At 3 p.m. came a procession of the police, a military group, a band, the Monument Committee, the Selectmen, the Orator of the Day in the tradition of Pericles (Rev. T.F. Clarke), honored guests (Gov. Claflin, Town Officers, clergy, and Civil War veterans) followed by the Fire Department with decorated engines and bouquet-carrying schoolchildren. The Monument Committee Chairman gave the Monument to the Town with a brief speech honoring the dead. Flags draping the Monument were removed as a 13-gun salute was fired and the Chairman of the Selectmen accepted in a brief speech.

Then Jamaica Plain had its own Funeral Oration for the war's dead, delivered somewhat lengthy with remarks on each patriot who lost his life in the battle. This done, "America" was sung, a benediction was said, and once again each went his way. Another historical moment had passed. The Monument is still the same today except that the fence between the arches has been replaced by a fence that surrounds the entire triangle.

Early War Memorial Speeches

Late in 431 B.C. following ancient custom, Pericles, leader of Athens, delivered a funeral oration for his fellow-citizens who had died in the first year of the Peloponnesian War. Even if its report in Thucydides' Histories is not verbatim, the oration transcended politics and matters of state to enter literature. This first recorded funeral oration soon became one of the finest expressions of human intellect. After it was delivered, each in the audience went home quietly, says Thucydides (11. 47).

On November 19, 1863, the National Cemetery was dedicated at Gettysburg some four months after the vast three-day battle there, which is regarded as the turning point of the Civil War. Sharing the platform with President Lincoln was our Senator, Edward Everett, noted orator and former professor of Greek at Harvard, who delivered a long oration mostly describing the battle. Mr. Lincoln then rose to deliver his three-minute concluding remarks, which were received without much notice. Later it was elevated to Pericles' status - even inscribed on Civil War memorials.

Gettysburg produced a forest of memorials (today totaling 845), with Massachusetts building the first of 27 in 1879. The zeal for memorials that dot military parks in the North and South had begun, as the casualty lists came out, before the end of the Civil War.

May 25, 1989

Jamaica Plain's Gaggle of Civil War Streets
By Walter H. Marx


The Civil War Monument with its marble block inscribed with names, places and dates of the fallen, forms a solid outline of that war's events. The City of Boston reinforced the memory of the Civil War further when it lay out and named the streets in Jamaica Plain.

Names focus on heroes of the war: the naval officer Porter, the general Sheridan, post-war president Andrew Johnson, Massachusetts war governor John Albion Andrew (also seen above an arch on the Monument), and perhaps, in a magnificent gesture, Southern commander-in-chief Robert E. Lee.

Pictured: Civil War cadets from Roxbury. Photograph from Jamaica Plain Historical Society archives.

The focus of our street names then shifts to battle areas of the Civil War that took place in The Carolina's including the city of Newbern, North Carolina. Of the 146,730 black and white troops from Massachusetts (with 13,942 casualties) sent to the war under the zeal of governor John A. Andrew, 23 of those dead are memorialized on our Monument, three died in the Carolina campaigns.


Bostonian Rev. Thomas Higginson's classic Army Life in a Black Regiment (the First South Carolina) tells the story of the southern front, which produced immortality for Higginson himself and Bostonian Robert Gould Shaw with his black 54th Massachusetts Regiment, commemorated before the State House and in the academy-award winning movie, "Glory."

Newbern's tale is nicely preserved in a 1909 account by J. B. Gardner, written when our Commonwealth erected a statue to its fallen sons in the National Cemetery. A 13-foot bronze statue in classic drapery representing Peace, by M. H. Mosman of the 46th Massachusetts Regiment, surmounts a granite base with side tablets identifying the 17 regiments who served there.

Newbern (also seen as two words with or without a final E on Civil War memorials) was named for the ancient Swiss city by its founders in 1710 (as they were born there).

It was strategically located at the tidewater mark of the Neuss River at a stop on a branch of the Charleston-Richmond railroad, the "jugular vein" of the Confederacy.

The Carolina theatres may have been sideshows in the war, but they were vital ones. The Outer Banks off the North Carolina coast (now a National Seashore) cried out to become a repair base for Federal ships blockading the Southern coast and a headquarters for troops that could raid the many rivers emptying the coast. Such action could raise havoc for the confederate economy, pin down rebel forces from diversion to the major theatres, and possibly allow cutting railroad service - that all-important Civil War transportation channel. Finally, blockade-runners would no longer be able to be in these inlets.

By January 1862, a corps of ten regiments was recruited from New England - presumably better qualified for coastal service - to act under General Burnside as an auxiliary force of the Army of the Potomac as a coastal division. Roanoke Island in the middle of an island chain was captured by Massachusetts regiments in early February amid hard fighting. Proceeding through Pamlico Sound and up the Neuse River, Burnside concentrated on Newbern so as to gain control of the railhead. After heavy fighting the regiments reached the city on March 14, 1862, to find all bridges destroyed but repairable. This emporium of produce, lumber, and cotton became the headquarters of the Department of North Carolina for the war's duration.

Burnside proceeded with the general plan of bringing all the Outer Banks under Union control and reduced Beaufort and Ft. Macon on the Banks' southern end on April 25, 1862, to open the port of Morehead City, the maritime terminus of the branch railroad. Thus the northern half of North Carolina was used as the springboard for Union incursions to inner parts of the state along the mainline of the Charleston-Richmond railroad. Inland Kinston and Gainsborough were under Federal control by the end of December.

However, the Confederacy kept up the fight to protect its rail lifeline, and a tug of war ensued until 1865. Taking the offensive in February 1864, the rebels sent ironclads up and down the Carolina rivers, after building them up river. Sherman's March to the Sea, ending in Savannah, Georgia in December 1864, doomed further resistance. His forces met up with the Union troops in North Carolina in March 1865, and war ended when Johnston surrendered to Sherman on April 26. So the Carolina sideshow had proved its ultimate value and saved a vast cleanup operation, for under Union occupation for so long the area had already returned to civilian life.

By the war's end, 17 Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry companies had seen service in the Department of North Carolina, and many were buried in its soil thus the push in 1907 for the statue at Newbern, dedicated on November 11, 1908. A great number of Bay Stators went down for the occasion and were so impressed by Southern hospitality in spite of "the late unpleasantness" that upon returning to Boston the group sent the Newbern chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy an inscribed punchbowl of solid silver "in grateful appreciation of the hospitality, kindness, and sympathy show at the dedication of the Soldiers' Monument." The Union was beginning to mend in the best possible way.


Three Memorials for Memorial Day
By Michael Reiskind


Memorial Day was born in 1866, out of the Civil War, and has grown to become a holiday to commemorate the dead of all wars. This year of 1995 has brought us two special war commemorations - the ending of World War II in Europe is fifty years old and the Vietnam War's end is already more than twenty years old. Jamaica Plain sent soldiers to all three conflicts and when they returned, memorials to their fallen comrades were established in the town. The three memorials were built in different eras, and speak to us differently about our past. Where are these three memorials?

In the center of Jamaica Plain, at the corner of Centre and South Streets, lies the Civil War monument. The arched granite commemorative is our town's most recognizable landmark. An impressive, gothic Victorian symbol to the War between the States, it was erected in 1871, and designed by the architect William W. Lummus. Frederick and Field Company of Quincy cut it from stone. It is thirty-four feet high overall, and made from light gray Clark's Island granite sitting on an eleven-foot square base of darker Quincy granite. The four arches form a covered space in which is a marble tablet containing the names of the townsmen who died from the war. Surmounting the canopy of the arches is a seven-foot statue of a pensive soldier carved by Joseph Sala.

Jamaica Plain was part of West Roxbury, and this was actually erected by the short-lived Town of West Roxbury (1851-1874) as its Soldiers Monument. It was a deliberate act of civic pride to put it next to the Town Hall (now Curtis Hall). The effect of the memorial is like a sacred temple remembering the departed. It is a gothic shrine to memory - with a military motif hovering above it. It speaks of its importance by its placement behind a fence, by its size, its heavy materials and its intricate design. The Monument is practically the most important object in town.

In contrast, Jamaica Plain's World War I and II memorial is almost hard to find. Located at the side of the traffic circle at Centre Street and Arborway, it sits by itself on a grassy plot with hardly anybody walking by. It is a starkly simple granite stone five feet high commemorating the Jamaica Plain dead from both World War I and World War II, and was erected by the Women's Auxiliary of the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 675. The fallen are remembered solemnly, but the Town of West Roxbury did not exist any more as a separate municipality, and Victorian ostentation was no longer in style.

By the time of the end of the Vietnam War, styles in memorials were changing again. With Jamaica Plain becoming a part of Boston when the Town of West Roxbury was annexed, a municipal memorial was never a possibility. But different neighborhoods of Boston did create their own expressions of remembrance for the fallen in the Vietnam War. Jamaica Plain was one of these neighborhoods. Jamaica Plain had an annual Vietnam Veterans Parade in the early 1980's, and did dedicate a memorial to the Jamaica Plain dead. Seven trees in a row were planted in front of Curtis Hall next to one already fully grown. All seven have flourished and stand as a monument during this twentieth anniversary year. It seems fitting that a memorial has returned to the old Town Hall, the center of civic pride. But this memorial is of its time: a living monument, not of stone but of green; no names are inscribed, indeed no words at all are attached to the memorial, but the seven living symbols of the will to persevere and be reborn are a fitting memorial.

Sources: Alfred S. Roe, Monuments, Tablets and Other Memorials Erected in Massachusetts, Boston, 1910; Roxbury Gazette, June 9,1870.

Copyright © Jamaica Plain Historical Society

Firemen’s Memorial at Forest Hills

By Walter H. Marx

One of the most striking monuments in Forest Hills Cemetery is the Firemen’s Memorial across from the City of Roxbury’s Civil War Memorial near the Walk Hill gate.

When the cemetery was not yet a decade old, in December, 1857, the City of Boston purchased a huge lot in the City of Roxbury’s new municipal cemetery for the burial of comrades who fell in the line of duty or who wished to be buried there.  For more than half a century it was only a burial lot amid talk of some monument, but in 1909 the delay resulted in something special.

    On a lofty granite base prepared by White & Sons of Quincy was sculpted by John Wilson a larger-than-life fireman in bronze, attired for service but in a moment of contemplation.  On each side of the pedestal were set bronze plaques, 3 ft. by 4 ft., depicting the life of a fireman in the spirit of a renowned set of Currier & Ives prints.  Shown in vivid bas-relief were horse-powered equipment and men en route to their duty.  The plaque on the rear of the statue pictures a nineteenth century pumper as it would have looked between fires in the firehouse with no horses, men, or background.

    The memorial was dedicated in grand style on June 14, 1909.  On that day, set aside in all the state for past firemen, the memorial was dedicated in a ceremony partially presided over by John F. Fitzgerald, grandfather of John F. Kennedy and former mayor of Boston.  Nathaniel Taylor of the Boston Globe gave the speech and the unveiling was performed by two daughters of Capt. McLean of Engine 46.

The plaque at the rear of the Firemen’s Memorial was stolen a year ago and recovered through a pleasant set of circumstances.  A chance photograph of the plaque taken for the Historical Society last spring was given to the cemetery staff. The staff used it to publicize the loss in word and picture in fire-buff magazines.  A potential buyer, who had seen the plaque at a New Hampshire flea market, happened to consult the magazine before making his purchase and notified the cemetery staff.
    
The flea market owner returned the plaque to its rightful place, gratis, under no obligation to do so, and told how he had obtained the piece.  Investigation continues, but on Firemen’s Memorial Day on June 10, as Boston firemen remembered fallen comrades, the thanksgiving was more profound than ever before.

June 14, 1990

First Newspaper in Jamaica Plain

The Jamaica Plain News, Jamaica Plain's only previous one-hundred percent local newspaper, was printed by the Jamaica Printing Co. from 1872 -- with roots from 1855 -- until 1932 during the Great Depression.

The weekly of 12 to 16 pages led off with a general section that was followed, after May, 1893, by three pages each for Jamaica Plain, Roslindale, and West Roxbury. Ads revealed local businesses and the life of the times. Illustrations were few, since the copper plates required for them, made out-of-house, were expensive. Since the newspaper was founded during the existence of the Town of West Roxbury, its specially targeted pages reflected the three regions of the old town that still continue long after incorporation with downtown Boston in 1873.

The 19th century bannerhead read West Roxbury News Jamaica Plain, but with the century's turn became simply The Jamaica Plain News. The office was first located next to the railroad and Green St., in the Bartlett Building on the Washington St. side of the tracks, as the Jamaica Plain News Co., from 1901 to 1908 (as the Jamaica Plain Printing Co. until 1907), it was then at 674 Centre St. opposite the old firehouse, in a building where the post office boxes are now.

In 1908, the company built its own two-story brick building at 66 Seaverns Ave. between Alfred and Elm Sts., where the Knights of Columbus is now located. [Editor's note: this building now houses a church.] The printing plant was in the basement, the newspaper office on the ground floor, with a rental hall above, mostly used by a fraternal organization, then as now.


Home of the Jamaica Plain News Co. at 66 Seaverns Ave. beginning 1908. Photograph by Charlie Rosenberg, January 2003.

Jamaica Printing employed an editor, two female clerks, a female proofreader, a janitor, and seven men in the printroom. In addition to the News, the printers were kept busy producing The New England Medical Journal. As with many local journals, submitted material comprised a great part of the paper.

When local resident Henry Keaveney was employed there in the early 1920s, he worked under editors Olyde Ordway and Stephen Von Euw as a teenage apprentice or "two thirder" in the plant, setting type and ads. Besides working downstairs, he often became "the outside man," bringing the finished products to the post office, then located at Green and Alfred Sts. on a two-wheeled pushcart. Henry often submitted sports stories, and in the spirit of artists who put their friends' names in their paintings, he often tacked on a fictitious account of a post game party with his cronies. Even now he wonders if his editors were onto him or not.

To Mr. Keaveney, who followed the newspaper trade all his working life, Jamaica Printing was "a quality place - a great shop in which to learn the trade." His job with the news was a fine first stepping-stone to a career that lasted decades at the Boston Globe. At the News, he had done everything but feed the big presses.

The firm was owned by Rouge Ledru Brackett, who resided on Robinwood Ave. He took it over in 1899 after being its managing editor for two years. When Brackett's son, Anthony, a star on the Harvard College swimming team, graduated in 1927, he became the manager. He brought aboard another Harvard man, Gurden Worcester, son of a prominent Brahmin minister in the Back Bay, as editor.

In the it-will-never-end spirit of the Roaring Twenties, new machines and methods were brought into play. But in the bleak 1930s, the company went bankrupt, unable to pay for all the new equipment. During its last five years, the printing firm did business as Jamaica Publishing Company.

The building was sold. In payment for his legal services, Mr. Keaveney's brother-in-law, J. J. Leonard, took three bound volumes of the News. After Mr. Leonard's death, Henry deposited these volumes in the Boston Public Library and, with a touch of local pride, justly insisted that microfilm copies of them be sent to the Jamaica Plain Branch Library.

Another person took the 1900-01 bound volume, later acquired by Tom Hughes of the former Harvey's Hardware by the Post Office. Mr. Hughes, a collector of Jamaica Plain memorabilia, gave the volume to Cary Keith, who presented it to the Jamaica Plain Historical Society in August, 1990. Microfilm copies of it are in the main Boston Library and in the Jamaica Plain Branch.

Sources: Interview with Henry Keaveney, November 1990. "Change of Ownership," Jamaica Plain News, December 23, 1899.

Written By Walter H. Marx. Reprinted with permission from the February 1, 1991 Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

History of Beer Making in Jamaica Plain 

As the 20th century dawned, it was said that within a mile of Roxbury Crossing there were twenty-five breweries. Now, as this 100-year era begins to bow out, none are still running, though a new one is about to start up.

Many of these necessarily big brick hulks still survive, doing yeoman duty as storage warehouses, mostly in the Highland section of old Roxbury. Even in their altered forms, the old breweries display keen attention to decoration of all sorts. The arched gates leading to a central court, as seen in the American Brewing Company on Heath St., take the imaginative viewer to cobblestone streets with horse-drawn beer wagons (like the famed Anheuser-Busch wagon drawn by Clydesdales moving out to unload barreled products.)

Beer has been made all over the world since earliest times, and is first mentioned in Egyptian texts of the 22nd century B.C. Thus, just as soon as they were established, the Pilgrims and Puritans established malt-houses, and in keeping with English university practice, Harvard students had a malt-house on campus.

Jamaica Plain’s newest brewer, the Boston Beer Company at the old Haffenreffer brewery, takes its label from patriot leader Sam Adams, who inherited a malt-house from his father in 1748. But as his revolutionary ardor grew, the business fell apart according to biographers, and after the British left Boston; nothing was left on Adams’ South End property near Fort Point Channel.

When the flood of European immigration began in the early 19th century, Boston was a natural port for those from the famed beer brewing countries of Ireland and Germany. By 1846, the Roseole Brewery was established on upper Columbus Ave., because the railroad was needed for receiving hops and other ingredients.

More Germans came with beer recipes brought from the homeland (in beer steins, by some accounts) and favored our area (though some beer was brewed in South Boston and Charlestown). Brewery addresses focused on Heath, Terrace, Parker, Station, and Tremont Streets, along with Columbus Ave., while another core grew up by Egleston Square on Germania and Washington Sts.

Perusal of city directories of 1890-1950 indeed reveals twenty-five breweries in the immediate area within a mile of Roxbury Crossing.

The pre-eminent beer barons were Rueter, Haffenreffer, Burkhardt, Roesoje, Pfaff, and Souther. Like other barons, the Rueters lived in Jamaica Plain, where the Jamaica Towers now stand, in large mansard-roofed Victorian houses that were later abandoned. National prohibition (1919-1933) was disastrous for the local beer industry (though some kept going by making near beer) and, if not knocked out by the Depression, the majority was gone by World War II.

In addition to the brick ghosts, the brewers left a legacy of Germanic street names in the area where their employees lived. Today a new minority who hope to prosper here, as did my grandfather and mother, who lived here in their first days in America in the 1920s, people these streets.

Many of the old German clubs are gone (like the Schwaben, Turnverein, and Arbeiter) or have been recycled (like the Schulverein on Danforth St., now home to a health club) and the large brick, former Trinity Lutheran Church building (1892) at Parker and Gore Streets on Parker Hill was built with beer money. This might also be true for Mission Church. One wonders how many other traces of their existence these sources of heady suds left behind.

Written by Walter H. Marx. Reprinted with permission from the Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

Haffenreffer Museum of Anthropology

An industry in the Stony Brook valley of Jamaica Plain provided the initial wherewithal for a transported Boston beer baron to secure a fine seaside estate along Mount Hope Bay in Bristol, Rhode Island.

Everyone in our area at some time gets to know the old Haffenreffer Brewery behind Amory and Boylston Streets, now a center for light industry, owned and managed by the non-profit Neighborhood Development Corporation. It is also the New England home of Jim Koch’s Boston Beer Company. The old brewery’s yellow-brick chimney, depleted of its top three identifying letters is visible for blocks. A Saturday noontime visit will yield not only a sprawling complex of brewery buildings of various dates but also a tour of the Koch operations complete with its own ratskellar.

Rudolph Haffenreffer arrived in Boston after the Civil War, intent on starting a brewery in an area teeming with German immigrants and already thick with Yankee breweries (as a drive along Heath and Terrace Streets will quickly show). After buying the old Peter’s Brewery, Haffenreffer began operation in 1870, tapping into the aquifers of Stony Brook (now buried under the railroad bed). In addition, he built many neighboring row houses for his employees and other workers. Anyone just off a boat from the old country could work there.

Many people today can tell brewery stories featuring their parents or grandparents, for Haffenreffer was the last of all the thirty breweries in Roxbury to survive. The operation closed in 1965 after 95 years. Legends abound about the spigot where one could always get a beer and about the employees’ own biergarten for lunch hours.

Son Theodore, married to a President of Wellesley College, early on lived in the house by the brewery at Brookside and Germania. Son Rudolph Frederick left the Boston area after learning the business and set out for the Narragansett Bay area, where he established a brewery that produced a beer named after the Bay. He lived in Fall River and also owned a mine in Utah and receivership for the Mount Hope Toll Bridge. These non-brewery interests led the beer baron to collect American Indian artifacts from both the West and New England.

In 1916 he bought land alongside the Bay that included “the throne of King Philip,” the son of the famous Massasoit of Plymouth Colony fame, which had been turned into an amusement park named for the chief, who had tried to drive the English out of New England in the war named after him (1676-78). Haffenreffer converted it into a fine dairy farm with choice Guernsey cattle. Fire two years later brought disaster and left only a shed and a barn.

At that point he decided in favor of his growing aborigine collection. By 1928 major additions to the site were completed, and the place became known as the King Philip Museum. It was beautifully enhanced by display cases of mahogany wood built by the nearby Herreshoff Shipyard.

The Haffenreffer summer home, a converted 18th century inn, was nearby for easy access to the collection. Haffenreffer hired a Wampanoag Indian from Nantucket as his advisor and opened it to Boy Scouts and those who expressed and interest in it.

The Haffenreffer collection’s reputation grew, and by trading and discussion Rudolph Haffenreffer became a major player and expanded into the Eskimo culture. Upon his death in 1954, his family gave the land and collection to Brown University and the lovely place is now known as the Haffenreffer Museum of Anthropology. It is well worth a visit south of the lovely Rhode Island town of Bristol off Route 136.

Written by Walter H. Marx. Source: Haffenreffer Museum Notes #11, Jamaica Plain Historical Society Archives

Reprinted with permission from the September 11, 1992 Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

Two Grand Breweries
by Michael Reiskind


Locally produced beer and ale has become a rare commodity for most Americans - but not so here in Jamaica Plain. Because of the Boston Beer Company’s Samuel Adams Brewery, set up in the old Haffenreffer Brewery on Germania Street, beverages brewed in our neighborhood are once more for sale at the corner market and saloon.

Before Prohibition, there were 31 breweries in Boston, largely concentrated in the Stony Brook corridor of Jamaica Plain and Mission Hill. Haffenreffer became the last remaining brewery in Boston. It closed in 1964, and Jamaica Plain produced no beer until 1988 when Jim Koch started up his local company whose beer distribution has radiated outward from Boston year by year, spreading the name of Sam Adams.

Jamaica Plain and Mission Hill had no fewer than twelve separate breweries, because of the concentration of German and Irish immigrants in the area. Local distribution of ale, and later German-style lager beer, was the rule before refrigeration and modern roads. While local production ended in 1964, many brewery buildings still stand in our neighborhood. The two most beautiful breweries are along Heath Street - a legacy for locally-produced beer, a reminder of the rich manufacturing heritage in the valley between Mission Hill and the plateau of Jamaica Plain, and a glimpse of beauty in industrial architecture.

At 249A Heath Street on the corner of Lawn Street, the American Brewing Company is the most elaborately designed brewery still standing in Boston. The three-building complex is wrapped around a hidden cobblestone courtyard, and the access through a double-arched granite block doorway is watched over by three carved terra cotta heads. At the Lawn Street corner building, a tall conical metal roof sits on the round tower and reveals to a careful viewer several decorative clocks. Set at 7 and 5, they proclaimed to the brewery workers their daily work times. The light that came through the stained glass transoms still gracing the arched windows must have warmed second floor office workers. Who had built such an elaborate industrial building?

Designed by architect Frederick Footman of Cambridge in 1891, the American Brewing Company was just one establishment of James W. Kenney, an Irish immigrant to America in 1863. Mr. Kenney had already founded the Amory Brewery on Amory Street (1877) and the Park Brewery on Terrace Street (1882). He would later start the Union Brewery on Terrace Street in 1893.

By 1900, the alphabetically named American Brewing Company (ABC can still be seen posted above the great double arches) became the largest branch of the great ten-brewery consortium, Massachusetts Breweries Company, and was producing 100,000 barrels a year. The family members of Gottlieb Rothfuss ran the brewery and could walk to work from their houses on Zamora Street and Wyman Street in Jamaica Plain. During Prohibition (1920-1933), the buildings were used for wool and cotton storage under the American Storage Warehouse Company name. Our local Haffenreffer Brewing Company later bought the plant for storage of its own beer and bottles. From 1958 until recently, lowly storage was still the function of the complex, when Fraser & Walker Movers used the old brewery as a furniture and moving warehouse.

A short glide down Heath Street to numbers 123-125 brings us under the shadow of the imposing old Eblana Brewery. Started in 1885 by Dublin expatriate John R. Alley, Eblana brewed ale and porter in this distinctive building designed by brewery architect Otto Wolf who was imported from Philadelphia to work on the complex. The building is dominated along the Heath Street facade by a great three-story central bay front, made of brick supported by huge granite braces and topped by a metal-arched balcony. The brewery’s central entrance still has its original wrought iron gate and beautiful granite block arches.

On the right side of the facade’s second floor, a mysterious granite block with the letters “J.R.A.” probably refer to the brewery’s founder, John R. Alley. He lived in Jamaica Plain from the late 1880s to his death in 1898 at 3 Revere Street on Sumner Hill. He passed this grand brewery on to his sons Frederick, Arthur and George. The sons ran the business as the Alley branch of the previously mentioned Massachusetts Breweries Company. They produced 80,000 barrels of Jamaica Plain ale annually until Prohibition.

Wool warehousing and medical manufacturing occupied the building during “The Great Experiment”. After that, Canada Dry bottled soft drinks in the plant. Since 1960, the Hampden Automotive Manufacturing Company has manufactured automobile repair machinery in this beautiful building.

These buildings are the silent giants of an industrial era shuttered by changing tastes in beer, temperance crusades, and economic consolidation. The smell of beer brewing no longer wafts from these two grand industrial buildings, nor from the ten or so others that used to produce it in the Stony Brook corridor of Jamaica Plain and Mission Hill. Only our lone Samuel Adams Brewery can lay claim to continuing the neighborhood tradition.

Copyright 1995 © Jamaica Plain Historical Society
Sources:
Baron, Brewed In America; Boston Landmarks Commission, Parker Hill/Mission Hill Inventory. Photograph of the American Brewing Company, 325 Heath Street, Boston, courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photograph Division.

Hospital Founded by Women for Women

The New England Hospital for Women and Children was founded in 1862 as an "all-women's hospital". Now called Dimock Community Health Center, women doctors started the institution at 55 Dimock Street in Egleston Square for the exclusive use of women and children patients. Only women physicians were allowed on the full-time staff. It was one example of the many separate institutions founded by women in the last century. The woman's movement in the nineteenth century responded to the discrimination against them in American life by forming their own organizations, segregated by sex, and managed in all aspects by women.

In Boston health care during the 1800's, women were prevented from joining hospital staff, medical schools, and professional societies. By starting the New England Hospital for Women and Children, women could receive clinical training at a par with that available for men. The New England Hospital, in fact, became a leader in American health care. It was the only hospital in New England that combined medical, surgical, obstetrical, and pediatric services in a single institution. It was the first hospital in the country to have a school for nurses. The New England Hospital graduated America's first trained nurse (1873) and first African-American trained nurse (1879). By the superiority of the doctors' training and care, this hospital reduced the deaths from childbed fever. In fact its competitor, the Boston Lying-In Hospital closed from 1856 to 1872 because of its inability to contain this disease.

The generations of women physicians that were trained at the New England Hospital spread throughout the world on their careers. Mary Putnam Jacobi in America and Sophia Jex-Blake in Great Britain were the leading doctors of their era. The hospital continued to expand from its early beginnings and by 1930 had eight buildings on its nine-acre campus just outside Egleston Square. The beauty of the layout and the unity of the architecture lend a calming harmony to the area as one walks through the campus. Even today, all the main buildings have names affiliated with women. These buildings' names constitute a list of important Boston women from the last century.

The former surgery building, a Georgian Revival edifice from 1899 that has been recently restored, is named for Ednah Dow Cheney. She was a Jamaica Plain woman who lived at 117 Forest Hills Street from 1864 to 1904. As a young woman, Margaret Fuller, Theodore Parker and Bronson Alcott influenced her. Probably the leading reformer in Boston in the 1800's, she was a founder of the New England Women's Club in 1868. This Club became the pioneer of women's clubs in the U.S., along with New York City's Sorosis Club. She was a manager of the New England Female Medical College and the second president of the New England Hospital for Women and Children. She wrote several memoirs and children's books, and through the Club founded a horticultural school for women, founded Girls' Latin School in Boston, and organized the Massachusetts School Suffrage Association.

The Goddard Home for Nurses (1909) was named after Lucy Goddard, George Goddard and Mrs. M. LeBaron Goddard. Lucy Goddard was the first president of the New England Hospital and led it for twenty-five years. She had been a manager of the New England Female Medical College and an avid supporter of women in medicine and nursing. George Goddard was the treasurer of the New England Hospital.

The most imposing building on campus is the original medical and administration building (1873), named the Zakrzewska building after the founder of the New England Hospital for Women and Children. It is a beautiful High Victorian structure with different colored slates on the magnificent roof, turrets, arches, porches and dormers. Dr. Marie Zakrzewska was one of America's first woman physicians and led women's medicine for almost fifty years. After helping start the first woman's hospital in New York with Emily and Elizabeth Blackwell, she founded the New England Hospital in Boston to provide women doctors the clinical training not open to them at the male medical establishments, to give women medical care from women doctors, and to train nurses.

The hospital attracted the top women physicians and nurses, and became a premier example of the "separate" women institution of the nineteenth century. Also, Dr. Zakrzewska helped found the New England Woman's Club and was active in the American Woman Suffrage Association. She was a friend of Lucy Stone, William Lloyd Garrison, Karl Heinzen, Julia Ward Howe and the Grimke sisters. She was connected to all the active reformers of her time and their mutual support helped sustain the movements.

The former children's building (1930), is named for Linda Richards. This Classical Revival building with its arcaded loggia and decorative details attracts all visitors. Linda Richard was America's first trained nurse, and after having studied and graduated from the New England Hospital Nursing School in 1873, she went on to found other formal nursing schools and become a leader in nursing in the United States. Because of her work after 1873, every hospital wants to claim this graduate of the New England Hospital as its own. In 1892, she became the New England Hospital's first superintendent of nursing.

The spirit of these eminent leaders of the nineteenth century woman's movement lives on among these buildings in our town. This weekend's 75th anniversary of woman suffrage is a fitting time to celebrate their memory. A walk among their namesake buildings, at the institution to which they were so devoted, could renew us all.

Written by Michael Reiskind. Copyright 1995 © Jamaica Plain Historical Society Sources: Drachman, Virginia, Hospital with a Heart, Ithaca, 1984; Notable American Women; August Associates, Preservation, Stewardship, and Development of the Dimock Health Center Campus, November 1984.

Jamaica Plain Men Who Died in the Civil War

By Walter H. Marx

Concord’s Sleepy Hollow Cemetery contains a lovely memorial by Daniel Chester French, for the three sons of the Meriam family that farmed at the Concord-Carlisle line. John died in a military hospital at Albany, Virginia; Asa died in the battle of Petersburg, Virginia; and Samuel died at the POW camp at Andersonville, Georgia. His diary of that horrendous camp that lasted only nine months was finally published at the Memorial’s dedication in 1909. McKinley Kanter also used it in his historical novel of the same name in 1952.

So, too, Forest Hills Cemetery, starting as the municipal cemetery for the former City of Roxbury contains many soldiers who died or survived the Civil War. Foremost is Roxbury’s Civil War Monument. Another such monumental area is the Dwight plot at the intersection of Consecration and Magnolia Avenues in the front part of the cemetery. The area is striking because it utilizes a big outcropping of Roxbury’s unique conglomerate, puddingstone, with little more adornment.

The Dwights, a Roxbury family, bought the plot early in the cemetery’s existence as a spacious family burial place. When they lost two of their five sons in the war, the outcropping became the plot’s focus for to the stone was attached a large bronze plate, its two halves relating the fates of sons Wilder and Howard, who died in different theatres of the Union effort. Beyond the elegant wording in 29 lines the plaque shows two bayonets wreathed in a flowery garland, the whole inside a border of leaves and acorns.

Wilder Dwight, second son of William and Elizabeth, was born in Springfield on April 23, 1833, and became a lawyer. During the seesaw campaigns of the Virginia theatre with the 2nd Mass. Volunteer Infantry he was mortally wounded at the second battle of Bull Run, Maryland, and died after two days near the field battle on September 19, 1862, in the 30th year of his age. As he lay wounded and alone under enemy fire he wrote with other words of comfort to his mother these words: “All is well with those who have faith.”

His brother Howard, the Dwight’s’ fourth son, was also born in Springfield on October 29, 1837. He served in the lesser known Gulf of Mexico operations to take control of the Mississippi River Valley. In the campaign against Port Hudson

(Often mentioned on our Commonwealth’s Civil War monuments) he was surprised and killed by guerillas near the Bayou Beouf near Opelousas, Louisiana, on May 4, 1863, at age 26. Before death came he had cheerfully declared himself willing to die for the cause to which his brother gave his life.

The Dwight tablet closes with two quotations: “No man can suffer too much and no man can fall too soon, if he suffer or if he fall in defense of the liberties and constitution of his country” and “ They rest from their labors, and their works do follow them” (Revelations 14:3) Interestingly, no mention is made of rank. Wilder rose from major to lieutenant colonel in a year, while Howard rose from 2nd lieutenant to assistant adjutant general in the 4th Missouri Cavalry.

Jamaica Plain Police Report, 1872

It is fairly certain that the lockup for the prisoners described herein was in the old Town Hall, later the Grand Army of the Republic Hall on Thomas Street where the parking lot now is. Yet local legend insists that the lock-up was in the basement of 743 Centre St. with its iron doors. Here are the opening pages of the watch book with its unique spelling once again.

police-station-on-seaverns-460.jpg
Police officers pose in front of the former District 13 Police Station at 28 Seaverns Ave.

The following description of the lockup is from the Town Report of 1872-73: “The cells are built of wood, and the danger of their being set on fire is very great. There are no conveniences for the comfort or cleanliness of the prisoners. The ventilation is bad. We have as many as ten prisoners and lodgers crowded into the cells of a night. Many of these prisoners are brought in with damp and filthy clothing, which with the fumes of bad whiskey make the place anything but agreeable or healthy.”

April 18th-The town all quiet during the night.

April 28th-Town all quiet except we had a ruf and tumble with force men.They were drunk; they had been to Canterbary to a wake and they were noyse and desputed our right to hale them after hours We thretened to loock them up; one of them, Edward Salby, shoed fight. We had to take him towardsthe Lockup. He begged of and promised to do better for the future. Welet them all go home.

May 11th-Town quiet except Samuel Chamion was drunk and noyse down onFew. St., and when he was requested to stop his noise and go home, heshoed fight. But he was subdued after he had thretened vengence on all the watch. He was taken to the Lockup up in a carriage and was left thereto reflect on his good behaver. He was let out to go on his way in the morning rejoicing.

Night of the 13th-Town all quiet. Mike Kelly was drunk and had lade him down to repose on the street. We had to put him in the Lockup so that he might have better quarters.

June 2nd-Town all quiet during the night. Charles Williams opened a drinking saloon on the corner of Stan Lane. He gave the boys a free blow: they drank a barrel of Beer and then they left for the streets. They got intoa fight. There ware no room for them in the Lockup, for it was all fullof poor travelers. There was a blinde coulard woman, a woman and three children, and fore men. The boys had there fight on Green St. Edward Duffyand Joseph Kingsley was drunck and noisey. John MacDonald and a man by the name of Heley was drunck and noisey. Had to send them all home, for we found that we had no accomodations for them, our own Lockup being too small for once.

June 17th-Town all quiet during the day. There had been a good deal of noise, through the day being Sunday. There was drincking and fighting.George Curley from Roxbury and a man from Canterbary by the name of Tracey.Mr. Frank Weld had to arrest him and put him in the Lockup, but he brukeout the next day and got clear.

June 22nd-Town all quiet. Patrick Leonard was drunk; had to take Leonard to the Lockup. Let him gow in the morning on condition that he would go and take the pledge.

August 4th-Town all quiet during the night except there was a dance at Cabtabary, being Saturday night. I thought we had better go over and see what they were doing. I had with me Joseph H. Row, and we found the house and a great many people, men and women. When a man at the door spoke,I asked him if he was the propreter and he tolde me that I had not foundeout. I picked his name. He refused to tell me. I tolde him to come infi he belonged to the house, but he refused and used some hard language,for which I threatened to handcuf him.

He with others sprang at me, got me out of doors, renched away me billey,commenced to beat. Two with a board came at me with sticks and stones,nocked me down senseles. They cut three places on my head, bruses on myback lages and arms. Beat raw consierarebe about the bodey. We got away from them. One man chased me some wase and tryed hard to hit me again.He had one of our billyes.

Officer Chase was sent for to quel some desterbence at a wake. He arested Thomas McDonald, who shoed fied and struck the officer. Chas nocked himdown with his billey. Then a crowd gathered around and beat the officer and rescued the man away from him. Thus endeth the night of the forth& the mornog of the fifth of August.

By Walter H. Marx. Originally published in the October 5, 1989 Jamaica Plain Citizen.

The More Things Change
A 130-Year-Old Police Report

By Walter H. Marx

Readers probably know that Jamaica Plain was once part of the town of West Roxbury, which separated from its parent, Roxbury, in 1851, followed by both joining the City ofBoston in 1874. During the Town of West Roxbury’s existence, police duties were handled by the West Roxbury Town Watch.Because the Town centered around the Monument in JP, it is not surprising that police work centered there also. The imposing High Gothic style police station was built on Seaverns Ave. in 1870, and it served as Precinct 13 until the 1970s.

seaverns-exterior.460.jpg
 This exterior shot of the District 13 police station was published in a 1901 souvenir book.


From an updated column in The Quincy Patriot Ledger by Curt Norris found in the JP Branch Library, weprint in the first of two reports the Watch’s official records for several days in 1860 and 1861 as America was sliding into the Civil War. The reports show a JP very different from that of today and yet very similar to the human condition portrayed in the Police Report in this issue of the Citizen.Spelling and punctuation are left, as they occur to show an age of less formal education.

Sept. 13 - Town all quiet during the night except the Republicans had a torch light pocession. Put a manin the station for to lodge the night. There was a danse on Heyesand they broke up in a row. They made so much noise that the watch hadto interfere. Edward Duffy and his son Thomas Duffy was drunk and hadgot into a fight. Dan Helly wasdrunk. Had to dispers and take the Duffeys home.

Sept. 14th - Town all quiet during the night. Duffy still drunk & his son not sober.

Sept. 15th - Town all quiet during the night. Duffy still drunk.

Sept. 16th - Town all quiet during the night. Duffy still drunk.

Oct. 1st - Town all quiet during the nite. There was two more watchmen put on duty. We tuck posseion of engine house No. 1 for a watch house. Had three lodgers to start with.

Nov. 25th - Town all quiet during the night exept There was a man Put in the lock up for being dutnk.He came to himself at 10 o’clock and thought he would get out. He tucka chane and breek the sash and glass out of the windows but the iron bars would not yeald he had to stick it out till morning & then take five months in the house of correctionat Dedham.

Dec. 16th - Put a man in the lock-up for strolling around the streets. He sade he was from Charlestownand that his name was Loud. A man pased on the stret with a bufalo robeon his back. Sade he was going to Munroes.

Feb. 1st - Town all quiet during the night. Coldest of the season 28 belo zero.

Feb. 9th - Town all quiet during the Night except there was a fire. Mr. Goldsmiths house was burnt &a woman burnt to death in it. Fountain I was there and dun good service in quashing the fire.

May 8th - Town all quiet during the night except Mrs. Dunicjer was locked up for trying to Break her Husbands head with a Teakettle. she used her tung very freely.

August 31st - John Chadwick locked up Thomas Gash for being drunk. He was brought before the court,found guilty and ordered to pay a fine of three dollars and costs, which he failed to do. He was sent up.

Officer Chadwick Reports the following nuisances: Hugh Mays yard and prvey on Glenn st Also Own backyard filthy and Owen Ringes has a filthy place. Patrick Cisick has a filthy place: hog pens and swill. Michael Farral has a filthy Pig Pen. Therewas a bad place near the osscar stables on Jamaica st. consisting of a hole of stagnant water which I filled up with grabel.

seaverns-interior-460.jpg
 Interior view of District 13 police station.


By Walter H. Marx. Originally published in the February 16, 1989 Jamaica Plain Citizen. Photographs courtesy of the Boston Police Department,  Donna M. Wells, Records Manager and Archivist.

____________________________ 

Jamaica Plain History was Something to Sing About
By Walter H. Marx

The chorus of London bobbies in Gilbert & Sullivan’s Pirates of Penzance may sing that a policeman’s lot is not a happy one in Act II, but Jamaica Plain police and citizens are glad to have coverage based in a Jamaica Plain location once again for many reasons.  When Precinct 13 on Seaverns Ave. closed in 1976, it was the first time in our area’s history that there was no local station, and despite modern telecommunication and transportation, residents felt more vulnerable.  For even in the days of the Town of West Roxbury our station was headquarters for Jamaica Plain, Roslindale, and West Roxbury.

As in many towns today our police were quartered in the Town Hall, first where the Footlight Club now resides on Eliot St. and then a block over on Thomas St. in the G.A.R. Hall, not so long ago demolished for the City’s parking lot there.  When the Curtis family in 1868 gave the hall named for them today as a Town Hall, the Town Watch (as it was then called) moved in there until their own quarters were ready.  Just where the lockup was before Seaverns Ave.’s Precinct 13 was built in 1873 is now obscured in legend, which insists it was located in the basement of 743 Centre St. with its small rooms and iron door rather than in earlier town halls.

Previous columns reprinted entries from the Town Watch Books of 1860-1 to reveal a Jamaica Plain quite different (a total force below 10 men) and yet much the same with the eternal human condition.  Each of the 23 Town Reports contains a police report with statistics on crime of all sorts and on the department itself.  Proximity to the cities of Boston and Roxbury prompting a larger police force becomes a constant theme.  In the 1870 Reports the growing town of West Roxbury was preparing to go the route of its parent, Roxbury, which had joined Boston in 1868.  The Reports are thicker and constantly showing increased expenses as the Police Chief filed his own report – no longer mixed in with the Selectmen’s Report.

Chief McDonald reports a force of 10 men now with the usual statistics and deeds of the Department and mentions that for lack of room in the station many vagrants had to be turned away.  In his 1872 report, McDonald devoted a section to the then-current station.  “The building contains the Trial Room, a room for the police, and five cells for prisoners – built of wood and not safe.  The woodwork is liable to get filled with vermin, and the danger of it being set on fire is very great.  There are no conveniences for the prisoners’ comfort.  The ventilation is bad, and we have had prisoners crowded.”

The Chief then pointed out the small size and closeness of the Trial Room – particularly during criminal trials.  “There is great need of a larger building, so that there may be a place separate from the criminal cells to put lodgers in, since there is quite a difference in those that come to the Station for a night’s lodging.  I urge the necessity of providing a new and larger Court Room and Police Headquarters.  The present building, poorly contrived and contracted, cannot be altered to answer the purpose.  The different trial judges here will bear a willing witness.”

As the Town of West Roxbury prepared to join Boston, it constructed a number of municipal buildings.  Precinct 13 on Seaverns Ave., a superior example of High Victorian Gothic style by City architect, George A. Clough, was one of these.  In his last report Chief McDonald noted:  “A new police station was finally brought to consummation in March 1873 mainly through R. M. Morse, who deserves great credit for the effort with which he labored to obtain the appropriation for the new station and for his discrimination in selecting a committee.

“They have been untiring in their efforts to secure a building which is second to none in the City of Boston for beauty, convenience, and durability.  In behalf of the Police Department I desire to thank Mr. Morse and the gentlemen comprising the committee for their kindness.”  Chief McDonald may also have been pleased with the well-crafted Colonial Revival 1890 brick addition, the work of City architect, Edmund March Wheelwright, who also did the former Forest Hills Elevated Station and Glen Road’s Margaret Fuller School (1892).

This then is the account of the events that led to the prior Precinct 13.  Its municipal task may have finished in 1976 while it now has private status.  The civic function must go on – and once again here.  May the policeman’s lot be a bearable one!

September 20, 1990

Jamaica Plain's Role in the 19th Century Back Bay Fill

O fons Banusiæ, splendior vitro"
-Horace, Odes III, 13


The well-publicized activity surrounding the Big Dig and the Third Harbor Tunnel had its 19th Century counterpart in the Big Fill. From 1858 to 1898 the cities of Roxbury and Boston, the Commonwealth and a power company participated in the well-known filling in of the Back Bay from Massachusetts Avenue to Charles Street. The project increased Boston's land area by 70 percent and cost the taxpayers nothing, since the land created was sold for lots in a fashionable section. Five-hundred-fifty acres of tidal marshland were covered to an average depth of fifteen feet.

The constant land filling began in 1858 with the contracting firm of Goss & Munson. Drawing on sand and gravel left by the Ice Age in Needham just west of the Charles River, the contractors very easily brought the material in on side-dump railroad cars and added spurs to already existing lines as needed. Thirty-five-car trains made 25 trips each day and night, six days a week arriving every 45 minutes to dump their loads quickly. A total of only 80 men worked on the Big Fill, including loading, transportation, and dumping.

Making loading extremely easy were two 25-horsepower steam shovels built by John Souther (1816-1911) at the Globe Locomotive Works in South Boston, as they moved on a track parallel with the gravel mounds and the railroad cars. "Souther's monsters" would also be responsible for leveling 89-foot Fort Hill from 1866 to 1872. In 1884 Souther's son Charles moved with his family to Jamaica Plain into a house called "Allandale" on the Moss Hill road named after the house. He had bought the spacious house from his wife Maria's cousins, the Wellingtons, and it was duly registered in her name.

Though Henry W. Wellington was a dry goods merchant in Boston, he was also an entrepreneur. He owned 88 acres of the land where currently the old Boston State Hospital stands unused on the Jamaica Plain/Dorchester boundary. Nearby Wellington Hill, now crowned by the Lewenberg School, is named after him.

Wellington's Jamaica Plain estate consisted of high ground, meadowland and marshes immediately south of Allandale Road. He bottled and sold the water of the well-known spring on his land, thus showing that today's Poland Spring bottled waters are nothing new. The springhouse still survives and is to be the centerpiece of the retirement village being developed on the site currently by another Jamaica Plain institution, the Mt. Pleasant Home, founded in 1901.

Wellington had bought his 20-acre estate from the Allen family, who had it from the vast area holders, the ancient Williams farming family with their pre-Revolutionary farmhouse were Our Lady of Annunciation Church now stands at the start of the VFW Parkway. The Allens built the house and named it by linking their name with the rural setting. Already in 1851 a dirt road known as Franklin Avenue connected Centre Street with the spring and, in an improved state, took its name from the house in 1863. The house stood on a high plateau overlooking the meadow and the highest rocks in what is today called the Allandale Woods.

Allandale partially burned in July 1888, and the Southers tore it down and built the two-and-a-half story house on fond memory at 14 Allandale in 1889-90, now marked only by the entrance posts at the start of the long circular drive. Sitting on a curving terrace of Roxbury puddingstone, the new Allandale overlooked a 60-foot long greenhouse, terraced gardens on the south, and meadow, through which a stream meandered to Elephant Pond on the south corner of the estate.

The estate stayed intact into modern memory because daughter Marguerite P. Souther (1882-1975) lived most of her 93 years there. No recluse, Miss Souther is still mentioned in hallowed tones in our area. Plunging into community activities, she joined the Tuesday Club of Jamaica Plain and in 1924 put up the collateral for the Club's mortgage on the Loring-Greenough House, the last remaining pre-Revolutionary mansion still in Jamaica Plain, thereby preventing its demolition for storefronts and house lots-the fate of all such prior houses along Centre Street.

Most memorable were the dancing classes Miss Souther ran at Eliot Hall, home of the Footlight Club, from the '20's to the '60's of rigorous but graceful instruction," as the Boston 200 Plaque on Eliot Hall still attests. When Miss Souther moved to a nursing home in 1968, the estate was quickly sold to Faulkner Hospital.

The hospital quickly razed Allandale and leveled the ground in hope of building on it. Denied permits amid cries by the Jamaica Hill Association, the hospital dumped earth and rubble into Allandale's foundations, and an ugly landfill is what the once beautiful Souther Estate, a byproduct of "Souther's monsters," looks like today. A happier future awaits it as Mt. Pleasant's Springhouse community takes shape.

Sources: W. Holton "What's So Big About the Big Dig?" W.M. Whitehill, Topographical History of Boston; Ballou's Pictorial, October 1858 and May 1859; R. Heath, Allandale Woods; The History of the Loring-Greenough House; Mr. David Mittell.

Written By Walter H. Marx. Reprinted with permission from the March 12, 1993 Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

Jingle Bells and Jamaica Plain

By Walter M. Marx   

When the Southwest Corridor Project that finally linked Amtrak, commuter, and Orange Lines was completed in the 1980s, research of all sorts was done on Stony Brook that plays tag with the tracks in its unseen culvert as well as on the old properties along the route.

One name that emerged in the research was that of Pierpont (or Pierrepont), a family that settled in Roxbury in 1648.  By 1657 John Pierpont had bought a 50-acre estate between Stony Brook and Muddy River from money made from a mill on the river – unthinkable today. 

A granddaughter, Sarah, married the still-eminent Northampton Puritan minister, Jonathan Edwards, but a family trek westward to Connecticut had already begun with John’s son, James.  A 1681 graduate of Harvard College, he became minister of the New Haven church four years later and in 1698 was one of the three ministers who came up with a plan to found a college (now Yale) there in 1700.  His great-grandson, John, graduated from that college in 1804, and after starts at teaching, law, and commerce, he became a minister. 

He was minister of Boston’s Hollis Street Church from 1819 to 1845 as he powerfully advocated temperance and anti-slavery.  His views sent him to Troy, New York, for the next four years, but he was minister again in the Boston area at West Medford from 1849 to 1856.  He became a field chaplain in the Civil War and died soon afterwards in Washington.  Some of his poetry and prose survives.  Of his six children, the fifth, another James, born in Boston on April 25, 1822, is our chief concern.

James was a wanderer brought up in a strict family.  He returned home after running away to sea at age 14 and married at Troy in 1846.  In the early 1850s he went to California to try his luck, but returned to West Medford to his wife and three children.  When his wife died in 1856, James went south and in Savannah two years later married a Georgia belle, by whom he had five more children.  There he survived the Civil War, teaching music and doing odd jobs until he moved to Winter Haven, Florida, with his youngest sons.  There he died quietly in August, 1893.

All through the 1850s, James, with no family encouragement, had been writing doleful ballads, songs, and polkas for the piano in the style of Stephen Foster (1826-64), of which ten are known.  After his first wife’s death he and his children moved back to his father’s home at 87 Mystic St. in West Medford (the house was torn down in 1950).  For a Sunday School entertainment at his father’s church, James wrote a song, “One Horse Open Sleigh,” based on the popular winter recreation of the era, and composed the tune at the home of a neighbor, Mrs. Otis Waterman, who happened to possess a rarely seen piano. 

Pierpont’s inspiration had been the sleigh races that were held on the Salem St. four-lane speedway between Medford and Malden Squares, where people would stand at their windows to see who had the fastest horse.  First published in Boston in 1857, it soon acquired the title of “Jingle Bells,” which is actually a command to the sleigh bells.  This now worldwide Christmas song is thus a pre-Civil War New England winter folk song of four verses that for years was dubbed “traditional” until Pierpont’s son insisted on its writer and composer.  The Pier(re)ponts of Roxbury had come full circle!

Sources
F. Drake, “The Town of Roxbury,” Roxbury, 1878, pg. 325.
J. Fund, “The Book of Famous Music,” Appleton’s Encyclopedia v. Pier(re)pont.
G.N. Hoover, “I Have a Song in My Head,” Boston Globe, December 12, 1946, pg. A-3.
F.W. Lovering, “The First Jingle Bells,” Yankee Magazine, December 1962, pp. 62ff.

December 20, 1990
Jamaica Plain

Lewis Farmhouse at Arboretum

By John Ruch

The vacant farmhouse at 1090 Centre St. in Arnold Arboretum, once threatened with demolition, may become a landmark for its 180-year-old origins.

But the house also has a more recent, but little-known, history as the home of notable plant collector Ernest Jesse Palmer (1875-1962), who moved in 75 years ago. Theodore and E. Macdougall “Mac” Palmer, Ernest’s sons, told the Gazette they strongly support preserving the house.

“Of course, Macdougall and I are very relieved to learn that the idea of tearing it down may be circumvented,” said Theodore Palmer, now living in Oregon, in an e-mail to the Gazette. “In the last couple of decades it has been horribly abused, but as far as I know the wonderful structure is still intact, just overlaid with lots of garbage.”

Another defender of the house’s living history is Centre Street resident Ruth Wagner, whose family worked as household help for the Palmers when she was young.

“It was lovely,” Wagner said of the house in the 1930s and ’40s. “We didn’t realize it was an antique.”

Harvard University, which runs the arboretum and owns the house, recently planned to tear it down to make way for an equipment barn. Now, it plans to “mothball” the house while the Boston Landmarks Commission (BLC) is considering it for official landmark status. [See related story.]

The house was built around 1822-27 by farmers Jabez and Lucretia Lewis. Harvard later leased the house and made it the home of renowned horticulturalist Jackson Dawson. Historical interest has focused on the house’s age (and related architectural detail) and the Dawson connection.

However, the Palmer connection may add to what BLC commissioner William Marchione has called the house’s standing as “an extraordinary landmark of American horticultural history.”

According to a Harvard biography, Ernest Jesse Palmer was born in England. His family moved to Missouri when he was young. When his father’s foray into mining failed, Ernest Jesse dropped out of high school. His knowledge of botany, Latin, literature, math and other subjects was apparently largely self-taught.

He carved out a niche collecting plant specimens to sell to research institutions. In 1915, he began collecting for Charles Sprague Sargent, Arnold Arboretum’s renowned first director as well as its co-designer with Frederick Law Olmsted.

In 1921, Ernest Jesse was hired by Harvard’s Herbarium, a research collection of plants at the arboretum. That began a long association with the arboretum, where his research publications included “Food Plants in Arnold Arboretum” (1944) and “Spontaneous Flora of the Arnold Arboretum” (1930). He was especially known as a hawthorn expert.

He also established the arboretum’s collection of Native American artifacts, plucking them from flowerbeds and preserving them.

After retirement, he returned to Missouri and published a book of poetry, “Gathered Leaves; Green, Gold and Sere.” The University of Missouri named its Herbarium partly after him and has an annual scholarship in his name. Several plant species are also named after him as “palmeri.”

Ernest Jesse was 55 when he married Elizabeth MacDougall, a bacteriologist at the Massachusetts State Laboratory. The marriage came “much to the surprise of those who knew him…[as] a presumed hard-bitten bachelor,” according to the biography.

The couple moved into the 1090 Centre St. house on June 15, 1931, according to Theodore Palmer, who has his mother’s daily diaries. He said the house was known as the “Dawson House” at the time. The Palmers may have been the first occupants after Dawson. The move-in was slow and conducted around extensive rehab work, which seems to match a fix-up Harvard conducted after buying the house outright in 1927.

All three of the couple’s children, also including daughter Grace Elizabeth, were born during their time in the house. They moved out on Aug. 6, 1948. Theodore recalls a friend of his father’s moving in after that.

“We all loved the house,” Theodore said. “Daddy opened up a number of fireplaces, all of which had been bricked up. When we left I believe the one in the dining room was the only one in working order.”

“Daddy tried to find out about the history of the house but had limited success,” Theodore said. “I do visit the house when I am in Boston every few years. [Arboretum Director] Bob Cook has been willing to loan me a key.”

Theodore said he’s writing a biography of his father, whom he calls a “very remarkable man.” He’s also followed a bit in his father’s footsteps, having co-founded Oregon’s Mount Pisgah Arboretum. Mac Palmer said he volunteers there during visits.

“I’m pleased to have recent news and to learn that others are still working toward preservation of the 1090 Centre St. house,” said Mac, who now lives in Montana, in an e-mail to the Gazette.

The brothers learned of the possible landmarking of the house from Wagner, who contacted them after reading a Gazette article.

“She was my babysitter when I was little,” said Mac, who will be 75 this month. He recalled Wagner’s family, the Hammans, as “friends and helpers. When the Palmers were away for more than a day or two, the Hammans would often stay at 1090 to take care of pets and look after the place.”

Wagner remembers that well. She recalled one vivid memory of staying in the house one night when vibrations from Centre Street traffic knocked a huge, antique mirror off the wall, shattering it. More happily, she also recalls “coasting,” or sledding, at night down the arboretum’s hills.

Wagner also remembers hard, Depression-era work. Her family lived on Amory Street and she would walk all the way to 1090, a trip of at least 2 miles one way.

“I used to scrub the kitchen floor every Saturday morning for a dollar,” Wagner said. “We didn’t use a mop. We got on our hands and knees and scrubbed the floor.”

Vacant since 1993, the house hasn’t had that kind of care in years. Wagner said it should be preserved.

“It’s something like the Loring-Greenough House,” she said, referring to the historic Monument Square house. And she should know—she also worked there years ago, pouring tea for the Tuesday Club.

Reprinted with permission from the November 3, 2006 Jamaica Plain Gazette. Copyright © Gazette Publications, Inc.

Parochial Education In Jamaica Plain

In 1873, with the Church of St. Thomas Aquinas built, Reverend Thomas Magennis, the pastor, turned his attention to the establishment of a grammar school for boys and girls in the parish. He had been elected to the school board of the Town and he appreciated the value of the public school system, but he wanted that extra something, religious training and liturgical music, taught as well. He made a trip to New York and observed the teaching methods of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Flushing and Brooklyn and reported back favorably to Bishop Williams who invited the nuns to teach in Boston.

The invitation was accepted. Sr. Mary Regis, with ten years experience as a teacher, was appointed superior, and she would be assisted by Sr. Felix and Sr. Clare. Sr. Dolores would be the housekeeper. They boarded the railroad cars in New York on October 4, and arrived at the little house on the church property in Jamaica Plain that would serve as their convent. The house had been bought from Dr. Winkler and moved from Harris Avenue. It must have been primitive indeed compared to the well-established Mother House, academy and schools in Flushing and Brooklyn. However, the nuns were borne into the parish on a tidal wave of love, which would sustain them in their early trying days.

The school opened two days later in the basement of the church with an enrollment of 200 girls. In 1877 accommodations were completed for the teaching of boys. Classes were held in the basement of the church for seventeen years until the new school was completed in 1890. St. Thomas Aquinas School was the first parochial school of its kind in New England.

The parishioners were, for the most part, immigrants from Ireland who worked as civil servants, domestics, gardeners and coachmen in the area and who gave to the church as generously as they could, but money was scarce and the sisters had to work to support themselves. Some of them were skilled with the needle and took in sewing, making dresses, cloaks and altar linens. Some even covered and stitched baseballs with kid for a local factory.

Among the difficulties, which the nuns faced, the first year was "The Flooding." They learned about this one morning when two of them came downstairs to start the fire for breakfast and found the kitchen floor covered with water. They had some success with the breakfast but dinner was impossible to prepare as the water level had risen to three feet by that time. They were to learn that this flooding was no rare occasion in the area, for when Stony Brook rose the houses built near to it on land that had been drained had to take what the banks could not hold back.

This particular flooding was especially bad for the Community for only the day before Sr. Regis had bought a barrel of flour, a barrel of sugar, and one of dried beans. Now the flour was soggy, the sugar vanishing, and the beans were so swollen that they would have filled three barrels. However, the flooding soon ended as citizens' complaints moved the authorities to change the course of the rampaging Stony Brook.

The hard work and privations, which the sisters had to undergo, did not trouble them at all, but the apparent ill will and militant sectarianism of the public schools did. Also, there was a prevailing belief that these teaching nuns could not possibly be competent educators. St. Regis established her goal - the nuns would teach the children so thoroughly in subjects, which both they and the public schools taught that if ever they had to give an accounting the children would speak for themselves.

The system grew in the next few years and a second convent was built which would serve as a school also for the three primary grades. In 1898 the third convent was built which would serve the nuns for the next 75 years.

In 1899 a school for the deaf was opened in the little house, which had been the original convent. The facilities were moved to Randolph in 1905 and one year later the Commonwealth of Massachusetts agreed to pay the tuition of each student referred by them provided the children were admitted regardless of race or creed.

In the development of the Catholic educational system the innovative diocesan exams emerged. They were prepared at the Educational Office in Boston and given in June on each subject taught. Thus the scholastic standing of each student enrolled in the entire school system could be determined at the Diocesan Office at any time.

In the 1920's St. Thomas was a flourishing parish and plans were made for the erection of a high school. It was completed in 1927 and offered an advanced curriculum, a fine sports program with an enviable reputation, and an excellent band. The band competed locally and nationally rising in five years from Class C to Class 1-A Championship. This distinction they topped by marching in the Presidential Inauguration Parade in 1969.

The climate in the Catholic Church began to change in the 1960s and this was reflected by a decline in vocations for the religious life. Jamaica Plain was also passing through a period of urban transition. The "flight to the suburbs" would continue for many years. In 1973, after 100 years of Christian education, St. Thomas Grammar School closed and the High School closed two years later.

Thousands of students graduated during that century, a tremendous saving of tax dollars for the City of Boston. Some moved on to higher education, some to the trades; industry and business. Many would answer the call for military service and would give their lives for their country in the First and Second Would Wars, in Korea and Vietnam.

Monsignor Magennis served for 44 years and died in 1912 at the age of 69. He was 30 years of age when he first initiated Catholic education at St. Thomas Parish. Sr. Mary Regis was 30 years of age when she arrived in Jamaica Plain and she also served for 44 years. When she died at the age of 74 in 1917 at the convent on St. Joseph Street she had the venerable title "Mother" of the entire St. Joseph order in the Archdiocese off Boston. Regis College in Weston is named in her honor.

Sources: Archives of the Congregation of St. Joseph; St. Thomas Aquinas Yesterday, Today, and tomorrow, Boston c. 1970; personal recollections.

Written by Mary Glynn. Reprinted from From the Archives, Fall 1989, a newsletter once published by the Archive Committee of the Jamaica Plain Historical Society. Copyright © 1989 Jamaica Plain Historical Society.

Reminiscences of Jamaica Plain, 1845-1875 

By Miss Ellen Morse (given before the Tuesday Club in 1921)
There are some people in this world (and some among our friends) whose requests cannot be disregarded. These requests may be too gentle to be called commands; yet they will lure us on in spite of ourselves. This is why an octogenarian has been persuaded to appear today before this youthful audience. She earnestly hopes also that it may be an audience very forbearing and kindly towards all that may be wearisome and too personal in these reminiscences of our town of Jamaica Plain from the early 1840's over a period of 30 years.

The Neighborhood
Some years ago I had occasion to visit a sick woman, who lived on Custer Street, and as I approached the house, which was so different from the new tenements in that neighborhood, I was struck by the strangely familiar look in spite of there being a double entrance for two families. When I went upstairs and stood by the bedside of the sick woman, my mind seemed to travel back some 70 years. I couldn't help exclaiming: "Why, this was my mother's bedroom, and here I must have been born."

Yes, that was the old house which had stood on the northern corner of Prince and Pond Streets and which some of the younger people may remember as the Pierce House before it was taken by the City for the Park and moved to its present location. My father rented that house from his friend, Mr. John Ashton, and he and my mother moved there from Boston as young married people in 1841. The first few years of my life were spent in that house and its neighborhood, which was then my little world. When I was lost one day there in a small cornfield, no forest could have seemed more frightful.

On the opposite corner of Prince and Pond Streets stood the old Waldo House, and a very early recollection is of a wedding there and of watching from the window the guests coming and going, which seemed a very gay sight to a little country girl. Behind the Waldo House, where is now Mr. Rice's estate, stood the house then occupied by Mr. John Low (217 Pond Street) on the site of the one which Francis Bernard, the Royal Governor, lived in from 1750 to 1769. This house was also in my childhood the home of a fine large family of Blake's, and many good times with those children are remembered.

The only other house on Prince Street were those of Mr. Francis Low and Captain Daniel Bacon (222 Prince Street), both of which happily are still standing, the Low House now being occupied by Miss Annie Blach and her sisters. Later my father bought several acres of land on Prince Street up the hill, and he built at different times the two houses that stood there until all of the land on Jamaica Pond was taken by the City.

Moreland Cottage stood on Pond Street opposite Eliot Street, approached by a long driveway (or it seemed long in those days,) and was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. John Rogers and their daughters. An early remembrance is of being taken to that house and seeing lovely ladies on the porch ready to give their pleasant welcome to a little girl. What a sad change came over that beautiful place when it was moved to an inconspicuous spot on a small corner lot near the Pond, and ugly ice houses were put up in its place, a road also being cut through, on which two or three small houses were built for employees of the (Jamaica Pond) Ice Company.


1893 view of the Lyman House (Moreland Cottage) taken by the Olmsted Brothers. Courtesy of the Frances Loeb Library, Graduate School of Design, Harvard University.

This, however, did not happen in the 1840's; but when these changes did come, Moreland Cottage in its new location was for many years occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Lyman. On May's Land (now May Street) was the old May Farmhouse, and May's Ditch, a very small pond, was a great winter resort and a very safe one for children of those days with skates and sleds. There was no Orchard Street then, and the May Estate extended through to Eliot Street, part of this land afterwards being built upon by Captain Charles Brewer. Eliot Street in my childhood days contained some very interesting houses and people.

On the northern corner of Pond and Eliot Streets, where now Mr. Nelson Curtis lives, stood a dignified white house, in which lived Mr. Melanthon Smith and his family. Mr. Smith was a noble specimen of a gentleman of the old school, always full of thoughtful neighborly attentions, which made a great impression even upon children and young people, and he was so very generous and full of public spirit. Mrs. Smith was of a different type, a very good woman, but her interests centered on her housekeeping and dressmaking, so that some of her neighbors related very funny stories about her earnest questions in regard to the latest pattern in sleeves-a very vital matter with this plain, practical, little woman.

Next door to Mr. Smith in the house were Mr. and Mrs. Channing Williams now live, were Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Sweet and their two tall boys. Mrs. Sweet was a daughter of the splendid old Dr. James Jackson, and I remember her as a very noble woman. Henry, the oldest boy, was a little backward mentally, and I am afraid that the other boys in the neighborhood took some advantage of his lack of intellect, but perhaps they were not really unkind. The younger brother George gave great promise as a doctor, but he died before he had really started in his profession.

The fine old Ellery House, now belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Durfee, then had a broad lawn extending to Eliot Street, and a wonderful children's party in that house for the little heiress, Esther Ellery, was a festivity never to be forgotten. Mr. and Mrs. Dexter, great-grandparents of Mrs. James Parker, lived in the old house now occupied by Judge Duff, and that was one of the hospitable centers for Parish Sewing Circles and Supper in those days.

The Monument Area
Centre Street was a beautiful street, bordered by fine trees and with many fine old mansions with broad lawns (even the part occupied by a few shops) having no ugly buildings. The Seaver Store I remember from my earliest childhood. It had been established in 1794 by the grandfather of the two brothers who now carry it on. I well remember the father of Robert Seaver, who like his genial sons was everybody's friend, interested in every Jamaica Plain happening both past and present. For many years this had been the only store in Jamaica Plain, but in my day Mr. George James carried on a general village store on the opposite side of Centre Street near Green Street. Perhaps my special reason for remembering this store is because of my great sorrow one day when I dropped a penny or some small coin down a crack of Mr. James' piazza. How could such a sad loss ever be made up for or forgotten?

Among the most attractive of the old houses on Centre Street were those of the Curtis families, the historic Wing House, that of Mr. Thomas Seaverns on the site of the present Lakeville Apartments, and the Emerson House, which not many years ago Mrs. Adams moved to face Jamaicaway. Beyond the old white Meeting House, which was on the site of the present Unitarian Church but facing Eliot Street, was the Parsonage, where is now Dr. Chadwell's house. Mrs. George Whitney and her family occupied this parsonage in my childhood. Mrs. Whitney was the daughter of Dr. Gray, who was minister of that church for 50 years, and Mr. Whitney came as Dr. Gray's colleague in 1836.

The young minister lived only a few years after taking up his work, but his family continued to live in the parsonage for some years after his death in 1842. I remember that after our early morning Sunday School in the pews of the old church the children were allowed to go across the green to Mrs. Whitney's hospitable house for a drink of water before returning for the morning service, for we all went to church as a matter of course in those days.

Beyond the Parsonage was the fine house occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Curtis. Then came the house of Mr. Moses Williams, which is no doubt remembered by some of these present. Then came the Hallett House, which was originally a very pretty two-story house. Later with an additional story it was Mrs. Walker's schoolhouse. I associate it as being occupied for some years by Mr. and Mrs. Charles Horton and their handsome daughters and sons. We cannot forget the noble Loring-Greenough House, which has held such an especially interesting history going back to Revolutionary days and earlier. All those old houses and others are remembered as full of old-fashioned hospitality of many kinds, and the faces and figures of the fine men and women who lived in them are most pleasant to recall. How we should like to have their pictures to look at today!

The Loring-Greenough House. Photograph by Donald W. Latham.

On Pinebank was the second Perkins House, which was destroyed by fire and afterwards replaced by the present one, now used for the Children's Museum, and the Gorham House, which was for so many years especially associated with music and everything that was pleasant and happy for children and young people as well as for the older ones. Beautiful Bowditch Hill with the homes of the noble Bowditch and Dixwell families was a little separated from the village, but it was one of the most charming parts of its neighborhood.

Travel
A child growing up in the 1840's remembers long tedious trips from Jamaica Plain to Boston in a conveyance, which is now called a bus; but then its name was an hourly because it started every hour. This child always supposed it was spelt O-W-E-R-L-Y. This hourly at certain times made its trips from Centre Street through May's Lane to Pond Street, stopping at Prince Street corner for passengers. It may be well imagined that a little girl would only be taken to town in those days for something very important like visits to a doctor or dentist-no movie shows then.

How we rumbled over Hog(g)s Bridge and the long interminable Tremont Street to our destination-two rows of people facing each other, their feet in deep straw-and how glad we were to be back in our peaceful village again! In those early 1840's a stagecoach was still making mail trips from Boston to Dedham, stopping at the Jamaica Plain Post Office, which was then on the corner of Thomas and Centre Streets.

Schools and Entertainment
The Village Hall on Thomas Street, which is now used by the Grand Army Post #200, was then used in the daytime for a primary school and in the evening for lectures and concerts. Good Miss Lucretia Williams taught this school, and one little girl can remember a big stitch on her patchwork brought a hard knock with a thimble on her knuckles. A red peppermint rewarded very good behavior, for moderately good a white one was given.

Distinguished lecturers came then to the platform of the old hall, Mr. Homes and Professor Agassiz being among those whom some of the boys and girls of those days remember most vividly. Professor Agassiz' benevolent, kindly face and his broken English gave him great charm, even if we couldn't follow much of his scientific instruction. What a privilege it was to hear such men in those days when they traveled all over the country to deliver their fine lectures! How did they ever survive the long journeys in stagecoaches and the resting places in country hotels and cold bed-chambers?

After these lectures there were often neighborly gathering of some of the fathers and mothers in some of the hospitable homes, and evening were finished in pleasant social ways with simple refreshments. Charming concerts by the Mendelson Quintette Club, in which the famous Fries brothers (Wolf and August) played so delightfully, were given at Village Hall and sometimes at private houses. The Parish Sewing Circles, where mothers and daughters sewed for the poor and where everyone stayed for supper (then called tea) were among the neighborhood pleasures and excitements.

There were private theatricals also at some of the houses, which were at that time very famous. On one of these occasions, where there was to be a performance at the Spaulding House of Poor Pillicody, one of the actresses who was to have an important part suddenly gave out almost at the last moment. What could be done? I remember that my brother, who was to be one of the actors, boldly went to town and interviewed Mrs. John Wood, then a leading actress in the Boston Museum Company, who (it happened) was free that evening. She very kindly filled the gap to the great delight of the audience as well as of the youthful performers.

It seemed to the children of those days as if their fathers and mothers had a great many good things as they watched them starting off on an evening sleighing party or for a fancy dress party at some friend's house. We wondered if we would be doing the same delightful things when we grew up. But there was also much of very simple family life in those years, and there were many home evenings.

Life Then and Now
There were no trained nurses then, and when sickness came, perhaps it might be possible to get some woman called a nurse, whose experience, if she were bright and conscientious, would be very helpful. At least her hands and feet were helpful, and when the babies came, they were most necessary. But how much help was gladly given by good neighbors and how like a good angel one of these neighbors would sometimes appear and offer to take a night's care and watching to relive the weary mother or daughter!

The summer life then was very different from that now, and it was not considered necessary to leave this country neighborhood. Fathers and mothers sometimes treated themselves to a trip to the White Mountains, Niagara, or the Catskills, and sometimes they took the children for a week or two to some nearby beach, but most of the summer weeks were spent at home. This gave the opportunity for much neighborly life, and there were very pleasant meetings of mothers and aunts on the piazzas with sewing or perhaps reading aloud, if the children were not too absorbing and noisy in their sports and antics.

We all appreciate now the privileges of summer games and outings in places cooler than Jamaica Plain and the opportunity which so many modern children have at camps and seashore; but something may perhaps also be said in favor of the old-time serenity when mothers and housekeepers did not have the strenuous preparations for the summer move and the busy times of settling down again to the autumn and winter routine.

With the introduction of horse cars (sometime in the 1850's) and the greater frequency of steam trains, it became much easier to make trips to and from Boston for business and shopping and occasional theatre and opera. Children heard Father and Mother (and perhaps an older brother) talk about Grisi and Mario of opera fame, of Jenny Lind and Fanny Kemble, who were all just a little too early for them to enjoy. But on some wonderful Saturday afternoon to be taken to the Boston Museum to see Aladdin's Lamp or some other fairy spectacle and incidentally to see the grand wax works, that was indeed a treat to a child of that period to be remembered for many a long day.

Jamaica Pond in our childhood was especially associated with fishing and short trips on rafts near the shore, but there were not many boats there until later on. We must have done many dangerous things, but in those early years we cannot remember that there were any serious accidents. There were also the good times in the beautiful woods, which were much later so thoroughly and unnaturally (it seemed to us) cleared and cleaned up by Mr. Billings.

In those earlier years there was no Rockwood Street, and children were allowed to take their luncheon and stay for hours in those woods, picking the many kinds of beautiful wild flowers, which grew there so luxuriantly and watching the birds. A cave, which seemed very wonderful to us, was a place of great interest in those woods. Our mothers seemed to have no fear about these expeditions for their children, as there were no wild animals there, only occasional snakes, and the days of gypsies and tramps had not yet arrived in our neighborhood.

Schooldays
After the little school taught by Miss Williams in the Old Village Hall, Miss Jane Lane, a sister of Mr. George Lane, Latin professor at Harvard, carried on a private school for girls and boys in the rambling old house which stood for many years on the corner north of Centre and Eliot Streets. How we wish that old house were still there instead of the new block of shops which is now greeting our eyes on that once-dignified corner. Miss Lane was an old-fashioned teacher and a good deal of a disciplinarian, but her teaching was probably as thorough and satisfactory as it was in most schools of that day.

In the long spelling class were many boys and girls of the neighborhood-all eager to keep their places as near the head as possible but there was a great deal of moving up and down. I think there is no doubt that important branch (of learning) was taught in a very thorough way. There was no music except perhaps an occasional little song. The only song that I connect with that school is one beginning:

"Now school is done;
away we run,
hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!"

Of course there was no opportunity for physical exercise except in the schoolyard in a short recess. There were two sessions of this school, and the summer vacations were only for the month of August. Very long, dull noon hours used to be spent between the sessions by a little girl, for whom the two long trips home were too long, eating her solitary lunch in the school room, watching and waiting for the return of the teacher and children.

Miss Adams' school began later and continued for many years under the care of her two younger sisters, Hannah and Helen, in their Burroughs Street barn transformed into a schoolhouse. For a few years also Mr. William Jarvis, a bashful bachelor, carried on a young ladies' select school. The young ladies were rather a lively set of girls, especially the older ones, who enjoyed nothing more than playing pranks upon their teacher, of which he was apparently unconscious.

One memorable hot day our teacher excused himself, saying, "Young ladies, I leave you a little while on your honor." Immediately one of the older girls collected money and sent one of the obedient younger ones to buy a treat of cream cakes at a nearby confectioner's shop. The girl returned very quickly full of confusion with the word that she had found Mr. Jarvis in the shop partaking of ice cream. How could he do anything but blush when he again resumed his duties in the schoolroom? The good man was never known to scold; neither is he remembered as a successful teacher, although he was well educated, but he did effort his pupils much amusement.

Over Mr. Jarvis' desk was a large open ventilator in a half-story attic. Here the girls used to resort at recess time, sitting around the ventilator, the soles of their shoes being plainly visible from below, and it was very tempting to the mischievously inclined ones to occasionally drop their crumbs down on the good man's chair. Can this be believed by the well-behaved girls of later generations?

Mr. York's Day and Boarding School, which began in the old Waldo House and Miss Peabody's, were both on a more modern plan. Mr. York was a Greek by birth, but his wife was a native of Cape Cod. Both were well-educated fine people and very strict Baptists; so among their boarding scholars some of the girls, but not all, were of that faith. Still there was no sectarian influence evident, and the instruction by Mr. and Mrs. York and their assistants was of a very high order for those days. Miss Peabody, belong to a distinguished New England family, naturally had a higher social standing, and her school, which started after Mr. York's, was more popular and more successful in many ways. The girls who had the association with this remarkable woman and teacher were fortunate in every way.

An early boarding school for boys was carried on by a Mr. Green in the fine old house which stood on the south corner of Pond and Centre Streets and which was afterwards for many years used as a boardinghouse. Mr. Stephen Weld's boarding school for boys later in the 1850's was quite famous, most of its scholars being Cubans, and I think perhaps the initials cut by some of those boys in the bark of the big trees on the board of Jamaica Pond may still be faintly visible. Their walks were often taken in that direction, and they were interesting figures to the girls of those days.

The Eliot School was for many years used for the High School, and in my young days Mr. Daniel Hagar, a much-respected teacher, was the principal of that school. Hagar Street by Eliot Hall was named for him, as his house was on that ground.

Churches
There was much friendly feeling and intercourse among the people of the old churches in those days of the 1850's. In 1854 the old white Meeting House of the Unitarian Parish, which was built in 1768/9, was moved across Eliot Street to the present location of Eliot Hall, the spire being first pulled down. This was a great sight for Miss Lane's scholars, who were allowed an extra recess so that they might sit on the steps of the old house to see the wonderful performance. Very soon after the body of the church was placed in the new position so that services might be held there during the building of the new church, the old historic building was destroyed by a fire, which was set by some mischievous boy or man. There were many such fires in those days when it was such fun for the boys to run with the old hand engines.

The Baptist Church then stood on Centre Street near the present Seaverns Avenue, which did not then exist. Immediately after the destruction of the Unitarian Church a courteous invitation was sent by the Baptists, offering their building for services on Sunday afternoons, and this offer was gratefully accepted. Some time later, when fire destroyed the Baptist Church, the opportunity came for this friendly act to be reciprocated, and for many months the new stone Unitarian church was used by these neighbors on Sunday afternoons.

These things are pleasant to remember, and Jamaica Plain has been rather noted for them, as when good Dr. Thompson, minister of the Unitarian Church, raised money from his parish to help in building the little Methodist Church. The Episcopal Church then stood on St. John Street, and Mr. Babcock, the rector in the 1850's, lived with his family in the house next to the church. The family is very pleasantly remembered, especially the two beautiful daughters, Annie and Emma. Many gay church sociables were held in their rectory, to which other young people were sometimes invited, and I have a vague recollection of Virginia Reels and other dancing on those occasions, but I dare not be sure of the accuracy of my memory in this regard.

When the stone Unitarian church was built, for many years Sunday school was held in the vestry under this church, which we entered from a driveway from Eliot Street, this driveway occupying the site of the present Parish House. After some years some of the parents began to wonder if these basement rooms were very healthful for their children, although no harm is remembered to have come to them there. However, for that reason the parish rented Eliot Hall, and for a number of years it was used for the Sunday school and for all social occasions, until money was raised for the Parish Hall in 1889.

Outdoors
How quiet our streets were in those old times! It seemed as if we could walk or ride or drive anywhere and everywhere without a thought of danger, although I do remember an exciting experience when on a before-breakfast ride my horse started on a run down Prince Street past the houses (where there was no sign of life) at full speed, until he was suddenly brought to a halt near Centre Street by painters, who stretched their ladders before him. This brought our wild ride to a sudden end with horse and rider panting and breathless. It was a kind act, and perhaps it saved more serious trouble, but it was a bit sudden and a little unsettling for my morning duties as teacher in my little home school.

We cannot leave the 1850's without especially speaking of the life on Jamaica Pond in those days both in summer and winter. When the Metropolitan Company first began to run horse cars between Jamaica Plain and Boston, Mr. Stephen M. Weld, the President of the Company, made great efforts to attract skaters to Jamaica Pond by having signs on the cars advertising "Good Skating," and when snowstorms came, the Pond was cleared at the expense of the Company. This, of course, had the effect of drawing large numbers of people-not a rabble, but it was really like a great social gathering.

It was a very picturesque sight when the Pond was cleared in wide curing avenues for the skaters and when sleighs were merrily gliding over the parts where the snow had been left undisturbed. The days of modern fancy skating had not yet come, but there were some of the beautiful girls of that time who were quite famous for their graceful skating as well as for their beauty. Now that we are making our rapid trips to town by automobile, it does indeed seem past history as I look back to the days when after a half past six breakfast I used to row my brothers across Jamaica Pond to the Pond Street shore to take a horse car for their early ride to town, but it did make a pleasant beginning to the day. And how delightful it was for the friends on the opposite shore to visit each other in their boats like a little bit of Venice!

There were regattas from time to time and always on the Fourth of July, when we all assembled to see our brothers and friends race in their two- and four-oared boats for some small prize, and our excitement no doubt seemed as great as that nowadays over a Harvard-Yale contest. The girls all rowed, and if they were very careful, they were sometimes trusted in the light four-oared wherries. On summer evenings what good times the young people had when they met in their various boats and laughed and talked and sang sentimental and popular songs. The mosquitoes were there to, but (never mind) we were all very happy.

The Civil War
What a change came over the life of that beautiful pond in the summer days of 1861! How many of the boys who had figured in the regattas and in the evening gaieties became soldiers instead of rowers; and how the girls all began knitting socks and making flannel shirts for them. All the social gatherings were for those purposes, and soon a branch of the Sanitary Commission was organized in our town for the hospital work, which became so sadly necessary. All of this story has been so recently repeated that it need not be dwelt on, but to those who lived through those years of the Civil War it must always be a vivid memory.

The Second Massachusetts Regiment, the officers of which were almost all, if not quite all, Harvard graduates and Boston boys with several from our own town, was encamped for several weeks in the early summer of 1861 at West Roxbury on the old Brook Farm grounds, and much of our local interest naturally centered in that regiment. Its camp was named Camp Andrew in honor of our noble Civil War governor. Trips to the camp at the hour of Dress Parade or on special occasions to see the presentations of the flags varied the busy days and gave the treasured opportunity of greeting our friends before their departure for the front on July 8th.

Fifty years from that day on July 8, 1911, a small company of the veteran officers and men of the old Second met on the grounds of the old camp and dedicated a bronze tablet set in a boulder, simply saying that from that camp the Second Massachusetts Regiment went out for its four years of service. By this boulder the veterans raised a flag, which they gave to the care of the Lutheran Home in a building at the entrance to the grounds, and the Superintendent of the Home promised that the flag should always be raised on Memorial Day and on all other appropriate days.

Through many hot days of that summer of 1861 the women and girls met at Eliot Hall (then a new building) to make Havelock's (named for General Havelock, whom we associated with the Siege of Lucknow) for the regiment. The Havelock's were made of white lined with green linen visors. They were hats with capes to go over the army hats and come down over the shoulders to protect the boys from the southern sun, as they did the soldiers in the Crimean War. So the generous men contributed the expensive materials until a thousand of these elaborate articles were finished, and then they were tenderly packed and sent to our regiment.

But alas! Much as the officers appreciated the loving work what did we hear after a while? The Havelock's were never worn, but they caused much amusement and were finally used by the men for cleaning their guns or for other purposes, equally commonplace and practical. This was a sad disappointment, but it had been a great help to the workers to have those busy days, and this was some compensation for their mistaken efforts.

One memorable Sunday stands out in a specially marked way: this was September 1862, a very hot Sunday, when news was coming that the Northern troops had been cut off from Washington and that a battle was going on at Antietam, Maryland. In the Unitarian Church, where a large congregation had just assembled, the minister Dr. Thompson arose and said that a most urgent call had come from Washington, asking for all possible hospital supplies to be sent there that evening. The congregation was therefore dismissed, and all were asked to give the day to that needed work.

In some households the linen had already been depleted, and it was hard to spare more sheets and pillowcases to tear up for bandages and scrape for more linen; but it had to be done, for nothing could be too much to give or to do for this great need. So those Sunday hours were spent, and at night great packing boxes were filled and ready to be sent from the church to the Washington Hospital headquarters. The joyful news that Washington was safe soon came to relieve the people of the North after some of the most anxious days of the Civil War.

Sometimes in the midst of the anxious days of those four years would come the joyful surprise of a short furlough of a young officer, and what a hero he was when his friends, old and young, gathered together to give him greetings! Our own house was taken possession of on one occasion, the family of the returned soldier having been invited out to supper. When a message was sent them that callers had arrived, they immediately returned home to find a party of many friends and neighbors who had made the rooms gay with military decorations and had spread a royal feast in their dining room.

A day, which stands out vividly to us older people, is that April day of 1865, when after the joy and thankfulness because the war was ending came the tragic news of Lincoln's assassination. Our neighbor, Mr. Farrington, a striking figure always, came in the early morning into our driveway on horseback and in great excitement shouted the terrible news to my father, who was in his bedroom. The poor man was almost out of his mind as he rode among his neighbors bearing the sad news. What a week that was, and how impressive services were the services held in the churches on a day especially appointed as a day of fasting and prayer!

Most of us have attended impressive services in memory of President Harding a few months ago, but with all the sadness connected with that event how thankful we can be that he was tenderly cared for through those last days and that no cruel act brought is noble life to its sudden ending!

Neighborhood Characters
If I had the brilliant pen and gift of Sir Frederick Hamilton in his Days before Yesterday, how many interesting pictures and incidents of the personalities of those days might have been given to you, even tough we are not dealing with diplomats and royalty; but even without this royal background and many individuals do come before our minds who have helped in their varied ways to make the life of their time interesting.

The two families of sisters who lived on Harris Avenue for so many years: the three Henrys, one of whom used to carry peppermints to church and pass them over to the restless children in the next pew and one of whom, although not rich, left a thoughtful legacy to that church; and the Harris sisters, whom I first remember living on Harris Avenue with their father, the good Deacon, and their good mother, very stiff and straight but no doubt full of warmth and kindness.

Can anyone ever forget Miss Lydia and Miss Ellen Harris? They were really learned women in many ways, and occasionally brilliant bits of information showing this would fall from their lips, although uttered with great shyness at some meeting where serious subjects were being discussed. How they loved flowers and what energy they showed in gathering them here and there from many gardens for the decorations of the church, which for so many years was their loving work. It was hard for them to give up when some of the younger people began to pine for some more varied and artistic arrangements and offered to take their turn, but they bore the suggestion more graciously than did their good brother who after many years as church organist was gently approached with regard to some changes about the music which seemed desirable.

He was very much respected and his musical work had been appreciated; but his sensitive nature could not bear criticism, and the church lost his interest and presence from that time. But the good sisters stayed loyally to the end of their days, and no church occasion-especially no wedding-would have been complete without them, even though they might always be a little late, probably because it took so long to adjust those wonderful chenille veils and other unique garments of the olden time.

And yet as late as 1882 Mrs. George Ernest relates this interview with one of the good sisters: "When the Footlight Club was to give an old-time play in the hope of borrowing something particularly suggestive of the period of the play I took my courage in my hand and made a call upon the two quaint ladies. The one who received me came down in just the coveted attire: an ashes of roses silk with brocaded stripes running round both body and skirt worn over a hoopskirt of the vintage of 1867. With a satisfied thrill I made my plea, only to be checkmated with the reply, given with some hauteur, 'we should be glad to help, but we have nothing at all old-fashioned.'"

However, a very cordial answer came to the request for a loan of old silver for a loan exhibit. We may be sure that in the matter of clothing the sisters were quite unconscious of wearing anything unusual and that they were very nobly superior to spending time or thought upon changes in styles or fashions. All in all, they represented one fine type of women of a former time, and we are glad to remember them.

Some of you may remember Abner Child. What a character he was! How attentive he was in welcoming all who came to the Unitarian Church as he fulfilled his duties as sexton! And how he pushed the ladies into their carriages so that they almost fell out on the other side! And what a voice he had singing so loud in the back pew (after that voice became cracked) that it raised over the music of the organ and choir. At last when a bold member of the Parish Committee ventured to suggest that Abner should not join in the singing, the poor man's heart was well-nigh broken, but he survived and was loyal to the church and his friends, although he was ever after a sadder as well as wiser man.

We must not leave out another quaint personality who may be remembered by some of those present. This was Milton Young, who for many years drove the depot wagon from Green Street Station, and although he had a rival in Mr. Mason, a more taciturn man, he was the family friend about whom many amusing stories were told. He had wonderful conversational powers, and from the moment when his passengers entered his ramshackle wagon until they landed at their destination his flow of words rarely ceased. His drawling voice could be heard at a long distance, and although it was somewhat wearisome to listen to him and to answer his questions, his patrons seldom had the heart to check him, as he was such a friendly character.

On one occasion when he was taking my brother Robert to a train, which it was very important for him to reach, Mr. Young was late-not an infrequent happening-and the old horse was very slow. When about halfway down Green Street, the train came in sight and Mr. Young's first remark was "well now, ain't that funny? I brought a man to that same train yesterday, and just as we got to this same place, it went by in the same way." The episode was not so amusing to a busy man with an important engagement, but almost anything could be borne patiently from the old Young.

The Trains
As our minds reverted to those old wagons and drivers, how can we refrain from looking in upon the Green Street Station perhaps before the arrival of the popular 10:19 train for town. What a meeting place that was for friends and neighbors-especially for the ladies starting on their shopping or other business. No modern teas could possibly give such opportunity for social converse and friendly greetings. Then the schoolboy and girl trains. How gay they were and how we older ones enjoyed looking at their rosy faces and hearing their fun, even if it was a little too noisy sometimes.











In the hoopskirt days we felt a little awkward and embarrassed sometimes in those crowded trains; it was so hard to keep the hoops from spreading out into the aisles and in the way of the busy conductor. That trouble is long past now, and many of us hardly know anything about that old-time way of going to and from town or the social gathering at the station. Perhaps like other things we do miss them sometimes, much as we may enjoy modern ways and travel.

More Distinguished Inhabitants
The wonderful Mrs. Adams and her three daughters are associated with my childhood and they lived to such an old age that they need no introduction to some in (the) audience. What industry and energy they showed through many years of teaching and other work and what social interests they kept up! What notable public spirit and readiness to work for every good cause in their days of school keeping in the barn on Burroughs Street.

I remember the private theatricals in their house, in which they acted themselves and where I remember seeing among other actors lovely Annie Russel (afterward Mrs. Alexander Agassiz), Mr. Henry Ware, and some of the Cabot family in a very interesting play. To me they all seemed wonderful actors, and I am sure they must have been very good. What energy it showed in those busy Adam sisters with their school to carry on rehearsals and performances in their house besides the upsetting of everything which was included; but nothing was ever too much for them in those years or for many years after.

In those days before yesterday Mr. Francis Parkman, the distinguished historian, whose birthday was noticed by many writers in September, was a pleasant and interesting neighbor in the summer months. He was seriously disabled about walking, and the condition of his eyes made him dependent on a reader and a secretary for his literary work, but he spent hours of the day in his garden and also rowing on the Pond, which was a great enjoyment to him.

His interest in children was very delightful, and he loved to have them visit him, usually presenting them when they were leaving with some of his beautiful roses or lilies, for which he was almost as famous as for his books. He was also much interested in turtles and in cats and kittens, and certain cats, which used to appear on the shores of the Pond when he was rowing, he talked about in an amusing way, calling them by their names. My father had named one of them Queen Victoria. No doubt all these interests helped him to bear his physical infirmities, and they certainly kept him cheerful and full of delightful humor.

In those 1860's I also recall my first acquaintance with Dr. George Faulkner, who was such a familiar figure as he drove about in his buggy with his white horse, accompanied usually by his invalid wife and their little daughter Mary. While he made his calls, the mother gave the little girl her first schooling or read to her. Well we remember the calls of that good physician: his every kindly presence in the sickroom and his helpful, cheery words in the homes of anxiety and care. How little we thought in those days that a wonderful hospital would be built bearing his name! And what could be a more fitting memorial to him and his family?

Epilogue
The figures and personalities of many other noble men and women come to my mind in looking back upon those old times; many too whose lives have continued almost to the present day; men and women of hospitality and public spirit; those who have loved and encouraged music and art, planted trees, and in many other ways have done their part towards the happiness and well-being of this old town.

In these days of removing old landmarks and historic houses and replacing them with modern apartments and of changes of many kinds there seems to be little left to tell of the old village days. Still we like to believe that the association with the old places and the figures of the past can never quite fade away. At least this is a dream and a hope of this old woman who has been looking backward over many years of the last century and who has given you these few reminiscences today.

Transcribed by Walter H. Marx. Production assistance by Gretchen Kappelmann and Jennifer Stewart.

The Call Mansion Originally Stood at 14 Everett St

This article originally appeared in the November 14, 1908 edition of the Jamaica Plain News.

During the past week there has been under process of demolition a Jamaica Plain dwelling which, though devoid of great antiquity or particular historical significance, was of some distinction in the community, and its demolishing is a matter of considerable local interest. This dwelling is what is popularly called, locally, the old Call mansion, situated at 14 Everett street.

The cause of its destruction and final disappearance from the public view is that its present owner contemplates improving the property, possibly by erecting a series of modern apartment houses. This mansion house was built in 1869 by Mr. John M. Call, for many years a prominent resident of Jamaica Plain, and was occupied by him until his death in 1898, since which time it has been empty and the prey of time and decay.

The contractor who erected the mansion was Mr. John J. Shaw, a well-known and quite prominent business man of the section who lived for many years on Washington street near Cornwall, and who, like the owner of the mansion, has been for a number of years deceased.

The contract for building the house was $23,000 and a few years later an addition was built at a cost of $11,000. Soon after its completion Mr. Call was offered $50,000 for the estate. This figure gives an idea of the size and elegance of the mansion, for the times in which it was built. It had 24 rooms and was finished with marble mantles and thresholds and black walnut doors.

It was two stories high with a French roof and the rooms had exceptionally high ceilings. The wall paper and other furnishings were of a richness to match. In the room originally used as a billiard room but later made the dining room, the wall paper was of French origin and of elaborate pictorial design having life size figures, birds of plumage, mountain scenery and forest and garden views.

Mr. Call moved to Jamaica Plain in 1851, occupying a house adjoining the present site of the mansion. When the construction of the latter began, the old home of the family was removed to Gordon street, where it now stands just in the rear of R.S. Harrows’ real estate office. The mansion was completed in 1869, after being about two years under construction and the family moved in on January 1, 1870. Into the great dwelling of 24 rooms went a family of three, Mr. and Mrs. Call and their son, J. M. Call. Jr., then a lad, who for several years has resided in the house on Everett street almost directly opposite the mansion.

For many years the family resided there and then business reverses came to the owner and the fine old estate gradually declined the last few years of its occupancy, it being run as a boarding house. Mr. and Mrs. Call having rooms and taking their meals there. Not long after Mrs. Call’s death, which followed that of her husband, the mansion was abandoned and a few years ago was purchased by Mr. E.N. Foss, who is now tearing it down to utilize its timbers in the erection of another building.

One hears the question frequently asked why such a fine, large old dwelling was ever erected on a site so near the railroad track and it is a matter of wonder until one learns that it was quite a fad to build such mansions and that several were erected in Jamaica Plain about this time, among them being the old Farrington estate and one or two others on Pond street. As to the location it is interesting to know that when the mansion was built there were but six other dwellings in sight of its location. Two of these were the house now occupied by Dr. Arthur N. Broughton on Roanoke avenue and the streets now known as “The Elms,” the location then being one of unusual sight lines and attractive views.

The Footlight Club at 125 Years

1877 was a good year for the founding of lasting institutions in Boston. That spring, the Swan Boats were introduced to the lagoon in the Public Garden. Earlier in the year, on February 9th, Trinity Church in Copley Square had been dedicated. Given the scope and size of the congregation at that ceremony, it is logical to assume that some of them would be attending that evening's premier performance of a new theater club they had been elected to join. The Footlight Club had been organized on January 4, 1877.

The topic had come up around the previous Thanksgiving. In December, Miss Caroline Morse, 19, of Pond Street, at a meeting at her home, proposed starting a theater club of serious intent. On January 4th "the meeting was called to order by Mr. Ticknor at eight o'clock. The report of the Committee appointed to take into consideration the definite organization of a dramatic club was presented. The Committee reported that the movement seemed to be well received and justified definite action. After a thorough discussion, the constitution and bylaws were amended and adopted."

The founders were well-off, well-connected, educated, and probably had known each other for years. Many were from long-established local families. The Frothinghams traced themselves to Thomas, who arrived in New England before Boston was established (you don't get much more Brahmin than that). All but one (Parkman Dexter) lived in Jamaica Plain. The twenty-five founders of the Footlight Club were:
Thomas B. Ticknor
Wm. P.A. Brewer
Mary C. Swett
Edmund M. Wheelwright
C. Louise Johnson
James W. Walker
John Tyler Wheelwright
Robert W. Guild
Parkman Dexter
Harold C. Ernst
Ellen L. Frothingham
Hettie R. Goodwin
George A.O. Ernst
Jennie C. Bynner
Wendell Goodwin
Richard H. Gorham
Lillie P. Wender
Frances Goodwin
Frank W. Reynolds
Anna K. Morse
Grace Gorham
Edith Weld
Lillie H. Morse
Harrison B. Hodges
Caroline Morse
 

The object of the Club was "to promote friendly and social intercourse, and to furnish pleasant and useful entertainment by the aid of the drama". The group committed itself to produce a play by the fourteenth of February.

They had no play, no theater, and no audience. By their next meeting on January 19th, however, they had chosen a play and assembled a list of names of friends and neighbors to be asked to become Associate Members (the audience for their productions).

But the members still could not decide on a name for their group, given the choices of "Footlight", "Jamaica Plain" or "Jabberwocky". By the meeting on January 29th, a hall had been found and rented and by the end of the evening, a name was finally decided upon. It was "Footlight" (8 yeas, 1 nay). Boston theatrical and social history was on its way.

The Footlight Club, at its beginning, was a classic Victorian club. Almost half the members came from just four families. The men in the Footlight Club were establishing themselves as prominent members of their communities, although in the Wheelwright brothers the club had two men who had already inaugurated a lasting and significant cultural institution by helping to found the Harvard Lampoon several years earlier. J. T. Wheelwright became a prominent Boston attorney. His brother, Edmund M., an architect of significance in the Boston area, would design the Boston-Cambridge (salt- and pepper-shaker) bridge, Horticultural Hall, and the Harvard Lampoon castle. Geo. A. O. Ernst was a lawyer and political reform candidate involved in educational issues and known as "a thorn in the paw of Mayor John 'Honey' Fitzgerald". Doctor Harold C. Ernst was a pioneering bacteriologist and was the first head of that department at Harvard University. Thomas Ticknor, the first Footlight Club president, was a scion of the Ticknor publishing family, whose father published Nathaniel Hawthorne and introduced Charles Dickens to America. These five men were Harvard grads and the connection to Harvard, Boston publishing, and architecture lasted well into the next century. Others became prominent Boston businessmen and professionals. Of course they were friends and in the great tradition of theatrical pairings, Miss Jennie Bynner became Mrs. Geo. A. O. Ernst and Miss Frothingham became Mrs. Harold Ernst. As you pass by the Monument or Curtis Hall (built by the Guild family); as you travel down Weld, Ernst, Brewer, or Bynner streets or walk by Frothingham Cove at Jamaica Pond today, you can appreciate the prominence of the families behind the founding of the Footlight Club.

The Club's first six performances were held at the German Club, "a little hall used as a theater in the rear of the Boylston Street (Jamaica Plain) railway station". Associate membership was limited to sixty-five because that was how many people the hall could hold "by close packing".

The enterprise was such a success that interest in Associate Membership immediately swelled and by their first Annual Meeting in June, 1877, the Club was considering a move to Eliot Hall should certain repairs be made.

The following year, on October 15, 1878 the Footlight Club debuted in Eliot Hall, a well-established local landmark owned by the First Parish Church (across Eliot street). There they spent the next eleven years growing and improving their space. By March 1884 their popularity demanded a second performance of each production. In that same year, the platforms (the same ones we use now) were introduced to provide raised seating.

In 1889 the Church decided to raze the hall and put the property to better use. Friends of the Club formed a committee who sold 1000 shares of a trust in Eliot Hall and bought the hall for the Footlight Club. Major renovation was done to convert the hall into a true theater and on January 9, 1890 the Club's 50th production played in the new Eliot Hall, home of and owned by the Footlight Club, as it still is.

Electric lights were installed in the Club in 1896 for the cost of $160 (!). No more would the Ladies of the Club need the small metal fence placed far downstage by the gas footlights to warn them that their skirts were drifting dangerously close to the flames. The Footlight Orchestra appeared on December 3, 1893 and for over twenty years members were entertained with three or four selections before each performance. A selection of interest by the Orchestra in one evening's program was a waltz authored by the conductor, Roger L. Scaife, entitled "Footlight". Somewhere out there we have our own theme song; research may turn it up yet.

The Club continued to grow, and by the turn of the century there was a waiting list of over 200 names just to become an Associate member. The Annual Report of 1905 reported the average cost of production to be $525 (a very significant amount in then-current dollars). Production costs, by the way, included the costs of coach rentals to take ladies to and from rehearsals. Dues were $3 for an Active Member and $8 for an Associate Member.

Mr. Ticknor, who was President of the Club for its first twenty years, through his professional association with the Riverside Press, must have been responsible for the wonderful artwork that we see on early programs and tickets. His membership in the Hasty Pudding Society at Harvard surely led to the puckishness of the historic plea printed on our tickets: "Ladies will please remove their bonnets". While that phrase appeared on the back of tickets with "All are particularly urged to be in their seats by 8:00 p.m." on the front, by March 12, 1889 "Ladies will please..." appeared on the front of the ticket, where it still proudly reigns.

The "club" ideal satisfied two major desires for the Victorian mind. The first was to "order things", to establish and acknowledge guidelines for life and the world. The second was to fill non-work related time with meaningful occupation. Note that the object of the Footlight Club was to "...promote... useful entertainment by the aid of the drama". The Footlight Club's emergence was due to a variety of social factors. The first and principal factor was the middle- and upper-middle-class character of the western part of Jamaica Plain in the 1870's. Jamaica Plain had been annexed to the City of Boston in 1874 and was benefiting from a great deal of civic improvement. The rebuilding of the commercial heart of Boston, which had been destroyed in the fire of 1872, was speeding the rise of a large professional class, who, with much improved transportation, no longer needed to live near their place of business. Old farms and estates were being developed into substantial homes for the new white-collar elite who were joining the older, established Roxbury families in the area around the pond, which had long been a country house community for the wealthy (such as John Hancock) of Boston.

With increasing amounts of leisure time enjoyed by this new class of citizens (throughout the urban United States) came an increased interest in socially enriching activities. The late 1870's and 1880's are now referred to as "urban joiner" decades. The Footlight Club certainly falls into this category. Also, and obviously, the enthusiasm for "parlor theatricals" which historically had swept American polite society during the 1850's came to a head with this educated young group of friends. In fact, in 1859 "Parlor Theatricals or Winter Evenings Entertainments", a handbook for parlor theatricals (I think of it as a 19th century 'Home Theater for Dummies') had been published. It was filled with sketches, vignettes, and advice on how to build a small stage and hang curtains (usually between the double doors which connected a living room with a dining room or double parlors). The introduction to this wonderfully quaint volume states:

"Few amusements will be found more agreeable for small parties than Parlor Theatricals. They have long held a favored place among the more cultivated circles in the old world and only need to be more widely known to gain equal popularity here. As an educational agent the amateur drama can hardly be too highly esteemed".

The Club's structure was no more strict than that of most clubs of the era. To become an Active member, a candidate had to be nominated by an Active member, seconded by two others, and unanimously approved by all other Active members. One "nay" vote kept a prospect off the roles. The same rules applied for Associate members except that two negative votes were needed to deny membership. Members were encouraged not to join any other theatrical group and were expected to answer the Club's call to any task.

The first meeting on January 4, 1877 saw Thomas B. Ticknor elected President. Miss Caroline H. Morse was elected Vice President. W. P. A. Brewer was elected Secretary and Treasurer. R. H. Gorham and H. C. Ernst were elected Directors. These five were entrusted with the creative and business operations of the Club. They selected plays, chose directors, and cast the plays with the talents of the Active members and the pleasure of the Associates in mind. The Secretary/Treasurer handled all associate member business from ticket distribution to budget approval and disbursement of funds. As in all clubs the number of members was restricted, with the number of Active members being limited to 25 and the number of Associates to 65. By the first semiannual meeting in June 1877 the Active member allotment had been raised to 30 and the Associates to 100.

By the time the Club moved to Eliot Hall in October of 1878 the Associates maximum had been reached and a waiting list for membership existed until well after the turn of century. At one point the waiting list totaled over two hundred names. These numbers, along with an interest by the owners of Eliot Hall in having the Club move their performances to Eliot Street, demonstrate the immediate success of their enterprise.

Like any human endeavor, the Footlight Club has not been without its trials. On the lighter side, and illustrating the strictures of Victorian society, the first major challenge to the Club came in its first year when the Board of Directors, of its own accord, invited a lady (not a resident of Jamaica Plain) to become an active member. At the time it was understood that there were many candidates available for membership among the ladies of Jamaica Plain and that only gentlemen were to be considered from beyond the neighborhood (still a familiar story: not enough men). The lady was rejected as a member, which brought major embarrassment to the Board, enough to still be noted with regret in a memoir over twenty years later. More seriously, the club suffered a severe setback with the death in April 1878 of Caroline Morse, generally credited as being the major impetus behind the founding of the Club. The death of this young lady, only twenty-one at the time, who had just appeared in their March 5th production, was a serious blow to this small band of friends and neighbors. The office of Vice President was suspended in her honor and not re-instituted until 1958. After a mere four years (1881), and with only twenty-three Active members, "the right kind of members were hard to find", and the Board offered to resign with a recommendation to "stop now with a good record behind us". Only after a positive vote and "a pledge... to the most earnest and faithful performance of their self imposed task" did the crisis pass. Again, even more seriously, in 1913 the Club had seemed to hit a wall. With only two men having been President in thirty-three years and older members, with the Club since its founding, ready to retire, a movement to disband the Club gained strength. A few stalwart souls, headed by an influential woman member (we have not been told who) met for tea. There were only two or three men present; the rest were women who had never held office in the Club. While the men in attendance vacillated, "the women announced that the Club would go on and they intended to see that it did".

They "outlined the method of procedure, suggested a new slate of officers, encouraged and fired (up) the doubting men, drank tea and adjourned." The Club had been saved. This anecdote comes to us from the memoir of MacGregor Jenkins, the club's third President, who not only tactfully omitted the name of the influential lady but also modestly neglected to report that he was the nominee for new President, an office he held for three years. The fragility of the Club is illustrated in the minutes of a Board meeting in February 1936, when a donation of new apron lights and tormentor irons by Steven Paine (who went on to found WCRB) was accompanied by a "stipulation that if and when anything happens to the Club, they be returned to him". And this happened in a period we consider the Club's heyday. Mr. Parkman Harding, who was President and Treasurer of the Club in the 1950's and 1960's, reported sending many pleading letters to various utilities asking them to wait for payment. And Miss Souther (who ran the Eliot Hall dance classes for so many decades) was called upon even as late as the early 1970's to come to the Club's rescue with her generous checkbook. Even at the Centennial in 1977 President Sam Messina was talking of having to shut the doors due to lack of funds to heat the hall. But still Club members persevered.

The self-confidence and success of the Footlight Club today presents a bracing contrast to these stories of the past. Surely, it reflects the founders' commitment and enthusiasm in today's membership.

By Paul Campbell. Copyright © 2003 The Footlight Club.