Somerville Motor Tour
Feb. 3rd, 2011 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
earlgreytea68It has become a thing now, these motor tours of mine. And so it came to pass that when arctacuda’s parents were visiting (months and months and months ago, because I fail at being timely), her father joined us on a motor tour of arctacuda’s current home, Somerville.
What we discovered on this motor tour was a lot about Somerville and also that motor tours are way easier if one person is driving, one person is reading, and another person entirely is reading the map!
Somerville, with an altitude of 41 and a 1937 population of 100,773, was settled in 1630, incorporated as a town in 1842, and became a city in 1871. In 1937, it had three railroad stations (the book calls Somerville’s railroad facilities “unusually good”) and one hotel.
Somerville rubs right up against Boston, just over the river, nestled next to Cambridge and also close to Charlestown, of which it was part until 1842, and the book characterizes it, variously, as “one of the independent municipal spokes radiating from the Boston hub,” “a type of the many industrial-residential communities that press upon the borders of the capital of the Commonwealth,” “proud of [its] own identity,” and resisting “annexation to Boston.”
The book paints all “Somervillites” (yes, it calls them this) as having “little of the frivolous diversion of concern about one’s neighbor’s conduct and beliefs so characteristic of his Boston neighbor.” In 1803, the Middlesex Canal opened through Somerville and spurred the city’s industrial development. The canal was outdated by 1822, but Somerville remained important because of its railroads. In 1937, Somerville remained as heavily industrial as you would guess from its status as a waystation: The book reports that three-quarters of the Massachusetts meat-packing happens in Somerville’s six meat-packing plants, as well as a large variety of other industries which the book details for us, but it’s not all that interesting.
“Self-rule is prized in Somerville,” according to the book. “It is this love for self-government that gives the city its vigor and its virility.”
1. St. Catherine’s Church
Built in 1892 of gray brick with white marble trim, the church “shows the influence of the Byzantine style of northern Italy, and of the Gothic.” Apparently, authorities (read: the author of the book) believe it to be “one of the most beautiful churches in America.” The basement is a crypt. It was a Sunday when we did the motor tour, and Mass was going on, so we couldn’t investigate this.
2. James Miller Tablet
We could not find this bloody thing. We drove around and around the same Somerville block, looking for it. On the way we were subjected to these hideously colored houses:
Anyway, the best we could come up with for this was the monument above. Pretty good, you might think. Not so much. Because this is a monument to World War I veterans, see?
And the James Miller Tablet “stands at the spot where James Miller, aged 65, was slain by the British retreating from Concord and Lexington, April 19, 1775. ‘I am too old to run,’ he said.” We decided that this World War I memorial must stand on the spot where James Miller was killed. History’s mysteries, solved!
3. Prospect Hill Tablet
This was just a plaque, leading us to believe that maybe the James Miller thing had just been a plaque that we missed (although we looked EVERYWHERE), but we were pleased at our success in finding this one, because we were worried. But here it is! Commemorating the spot where the 13-striped American flag first flew, on January 1, 1776. On this spot was a fortress that covered the siege of Boston, during the time when the British were trapped in the city, with no way out over land, for eleven months during the Revolution.
4. Memorial Tower
This stands on the site of the fortress. From November 7, 1777 to October 15, 1778, the fortress held about 4,000 prisoners of war who had surrendered at the battle of Saratoga. Apparently, it was not pleasant.
To give you an idea how far away the fortress was from Boston, here’s the view of the skyline.
5. Civil War Monument
Located in Central Hill Park, it has an angel acting as a bodyguard for a marching soldier. Next to it, in front of the Public Library, is the Spanish War Monument, which is also “one of the few” monuments commemorating Americans in the Boxer Revolt in China in 1900 and “in which the treatment of both soldier and sailor are markedly realistic.”
It was spring when we did this tour. How gorgeous are those trees?
6. Public Library
The requisite discussion of the town’s library, which seems to be included on every single motor tour. This one is notable for having a full-size copy of the frieze of the Parthenon at Athens, tinted in blues and greens just like the original was.
It also has a bas-relief portrait of Sam Walter Foss, a former librarian and author of the poem “The House by the Side of the Road.” (No, you are not supposed to know what that poem is.)
I hope you appreciate that we take these furtive photos inside libraries for you!
Anyway, what I found most notable about the library is a feature the book does not discuss at all:
Why the scary cow skull, Somerville Public Library? Does anyone know? We were not successful in our attempts at Googling.
7. Oliver Tufts House
Ah, yes, the portion of every motor tour when we take photos of people’s private residences, thus looking extremely sketchy! Anyway, this house was originally built by Peter Tufts, who was the grandson of the Peter Tufts who emigrated to America in 1646. One of them, either grandfather or grandson, operated a ferry from Charlestown to Malden, but the book is unclear on which it was. Possibly because the real reason the house was on the tour was not because of Peter Tufts but because it was the headquarters of General Lee of the American Army during the siege of Boston. Fifty years after that, Charlotte Cushman spent her childhood holidays in this house, which was at the time a farmhouse belonging to her uncle Oliver. Charlotte Cushman was, apparently, “a noted Boston actress.”
Incidentally, I suspect Peter Tufts, or his family, must have something to do with Tufts University, located not far from where we were. But the book mentions nothing about that.
8. Ploughed Hill
“The site of a celebrated and distressing incident of social history, the burning by an anti-Catholic mob in 1834 of the Ursuline Convent.” Somewhere along here was also the start of the Middlesex Canal, in the old days, and, kind of randomly, the book points out that it was the last hostile territory crossed by the British when they retreated from Lexington and Concord, because Charlestown was British-held. We couldn’t really find any of the stuff that we were talking about, but this empty lot looked like the right spot for the destroyed Ursuline Convent. So there you go. History’s mysteries, solved!
9. Ford Motor Plant
Not surprisingly, it’s no longer there. We think it’s now this shopping plaza. In 1937,it made three hundred cars every day, and visitors were permitted “by permission.” Since it is no longer there, we give you a Ford in front of the old Ford Motor Plant. We considered the fact that we pulled up behind this car A Sign that we were right in our suspicion on the location of the Ford Motor Plant. Another of history’s mysteries, solved!
10. Marker
Yes. We were looking for just a marker. I don’t really know what he considers the difference between markers and tablets. So we have two choice here:
(1) The marker was on this bush-tangled traffic island in the middle of a very busy highway.
(2) The marker was displaced by this courthouse:
Either way, we’re pretty sure that one of these spots was the place where Governor John Winthrop built the ship “The Blessing of the Bay,” a 36-ton boat that was probably the first vessel built in Massachusetts. The boat was launched on July 4, 1631. I find the “July 4” to be amusing.
11. Site of Ten Hills Farm
This is where Governor Winthrop spent his first winter in America, before moving to a townhouse in Boston. He maintained Ten Hills Farm as a “country estate” that he visited often. The book says the area is “now covered with modern residences,” and we think we’re right in showing you this street, because it happens to be called…Ten Hills Road. (I love it when stuff like that happens.)
12. Magoun House
We spent a lot of time scurrying around people’s private property trying to figure out which house was the correct one, but we think we’re right with this one. The book says it’s gray, which this house is not, but this house otherwise fits the description much more closely than any other house in the era: two-and-a-half stories, wooden, with a “delicate arched fanlight, one of the best Colonial specimens remaining in Greater Boston.” This house was the location of Somervile’s first printing press.
13. Old Powder House
Built in 1703 to be a gristmill, this “circular field-stone structure 40 feet high, with cone-shaped shingled roof, was a storm-center of Revolutionary history.” A STORM-CENTER, I tell you. On September 1, 1774, General age seized the 250 half-barrel of gunpowder in this mill. The following day, in reaction, thousands of patriots assembled on Cambridge Common, determined to fight the British then and there. “Judicious counsel” talked them down, and war didn’t start until the following April. In 1775, the American army besieging Boston used this powder house as their “magazine,” whatever that might mean.
The walk up to the Old Powder House was dotted with other interesting things, about which the book had nothing to say.
This wins the award for strangest monument I’ve ever seen. There’s a story behind this monument, you just know it. Sadly, the book doesn’t tell it. The book doesn’t even mention the pickle factory. If it was a shoe factory, you know the book would be all over it.
Something else the book chooses not to tell us about.
Oh, this is just a random photo of me with a my-sized TINY tree, that makes me look like a GIANT.
To get to the Old Powder House, we had to cross the James A. Reynolds Traffic Circle.
See? “Traffic Circle” is a nice way of saying ROTARY OF DEATH. I hate driving on rotaries. I hate crossing rotaries even more. You had to keep an eye out, because cars were coming from EVERYWHERE, any second your life might end in pursuit of a good picture for the motor tour.
However, this rotary is a little bit better than many rotaries for having in the middle of it this kind of adorable thing that I loved:
What we discovered on this motor tour was a lot about Somerville and also that motor tours are way easier if one person is driving, one person is reading, and another person entirely is reading the map!
Somerville, with an altitude of 41 and a 1937 population of 100,773, was settled in 1630, incorporated as a town in 1842, and became a city in 1871. In 1937, it had three railroad stations (the book calls Somerville’s railroad facilities “unusually good”) and one hotel.
Somerville rubs right up against Boston, just over the river, nestled next to Cambridge and also close to Charlestown, of which it was part until 1842, and the book characterizes it, variously, as “one of the independent municipal spokes radiating from the Boston hub,” “a type of the many industrial-residential communities that press upon the borders of the capital of the Commonwealth,” “proud of [its] own identity,” and resisting “annexation to Boston.”
The book paints all “Somervillites” (yes, it calls them this) as having “little of the frivolous diversion of concern about one’s neighbor’s conduct and beliefs so characteristic of his Boston neighbor.” In 1803, the Middlesex Canal opened through Somerville and spurred the city’s industrial development. The canal was outdated by 1822, but Somerville remained important because of its railroads. In 1937, Somerville remained as heavily industrial as you would guess from its status as a waystation: The book reports that three-quarters of the Massachusetts meat-packing happens in Somerville’s six meat-packing plants, as well as a large variety of other industries which the book details for us, but it’s not all that interesting.
“Self-rule is prized in Somerville,” according to the book. “It is this love for self-government that gives the city its vigor and its virility.”
1. St. Catherine’s Church
Built in 1892 of gray brick with white marble trim, the church “shows the influence of the Byzantine style of northern Italy, and of the Gothic.” Apparently, authorities (read: the author of the book) believe it to be “one of the most beautiful churches in America.” The basement is a crypt. It was a Sunday when we did the motor tour, and Mass was going on, so we couldn’t investigate this.
2. James Miller Tablet
We could not find this bloody thing. We drove around and around the same Somerville block, looking for it. On the way we were subjected to these hideously colored houses:
Anyway, the best we could come up with for this was the monument above. Pretty good, you might think. Not so much. Because this is a monument to World War I veterans, see?
And the James Miller Tablet “stands at the spot where James Miller, aged 65, was slain by the British retreating from Concord and Lexington, April 19, 1775. ‘I am too old to run,’ he said.” We decided that this World War I memorial must stand on the spot where James Miller was killed. History’s mysteries, solved!
3. Prospect Hill Tablet
This was just a plaque, leading us to believe that maybe the James Miller thing had just been a plaque that we missed (although we looked EVERYWHERE), but we were pleased at our success in finding this one, because we were worried. But here it is! Commemorating the spot where the 13-striped American flag first flew, on January 1, 1776. On this spot was a fortress that covered the siege of Boston, during the time when the British were trapped in the city, with no way out over land, for eleven months during the Revolution.
4. Memorial Tower
This stands on the site of the fortress. From November 7, 1777 to October 15, 1778, the fortress held about 4,000 prisoners of war who had surrendered at the battle of Saratoga. Apparently, it was not pleasant.
To give you an idea how far away the fortress was from Boston, here’s the view of the skyline.
5. Civil War Monument
Located in Central Hill Park, it has an angel acting as a bodyguard for a marching soldier. Next to it, in front of the Public Library, is the Spanish War Monument, which is also “one of the few” monuments commemorating Americans in the Boxer Revolt in China in 1900 and “in which the treatment of both soldier and sailor are markedly realistic.”
It was spring when we did this tour. How gorgeous are those trees?
6. Public Library
The requisite discussion of the town’s library, which seems to be included on every single motor tour. This one is notable for having a full-size copy of the frieze of the Parthenon at Athens, tinted in blues and greens just like the original was.
It also has a bas-relief portrait of Sam Walter Foss, a former librarian and author of the poem “The House by the Side of the Road.” (No, you are not supposed to know what that poem is.)
I hope you appreciate that we take these furtive photos inside libraries for you!
Anyway, what I found most notable about the library is a feature the book does not discuss at all:
Why the scary cow skull, Somerville Public Library? Does anyone know? We were not successful in our attempts at Googling.
7. Oliver Tufts House
Ah, yes, the portion of every motor tour when we take photos of people’s private residences, thus looking extremely sketchy! Anyway, this house was originally built by Peter Tufts, who was the grandson of the Peter Tufts who emigrated to America in 1646. One of them, either grandfather or grandson, operated a ferry from Charlestown to Malden, but the book is unclear on which it was. Possibly because the real reason the house was on the tour was not because of Peter Tufts but because it was the headquarters of General Lee of the American Army during the siege of Boston. Fifty years after that, Charlotte Cushman spent her childhood holidays in this house, which was at the time a farmhouse belonging to her uncle Oliver. Charlotte Cushman was, apparently, “a noted Boston actress.”
Incidentally, I suspect Peter Tufts, or his family, must have something to do with Tufts University, located not far from where we were. But the book mentions nothing about that.
8. Ploughed Hill
“The site of a celebrated and distressing incident of social history, the burning by an anti-Catholic mob in 1834 of the Ursuline Convent.” Somewhere along here was also the start of the Middlesex Canal, in the old days, and, kind of randomly, the book points out that it was the last hostile territory crossed by the British when they retreated from Lexington and Concord, because Charlestown was British-held. We couldn’t really find any of the stuff that we were talking about, but this empty lot looked like the right spot for the destroyed Ursuline Convent. So there you go. History’s mysteries, solved!
9. Ford Motor Plant
Not surprisingly, it’s no longer there. We think it’s now this shopping plaza. In 1937,it made three hundred cars every day, and visitors were permitted “by permission.” Since it is no longer there, we give you a Ford in front of the old Ford Motor Plant. We considered the fact that we pulled up behind this car A Sign that we were right in our suspicion on the location of the Ford Motor Plant. Another of history’s mysteries, solved!
10. Marker
Yes. We were looking for just a marker. I don’t really know what he considers the difference between markers and tablets. So we have two choice here:
(1) The marker was on this bush-tangled traffic island in the middle of a very busy highway.
(2) The marker was displaced by this courthouse:
Either way, we’re pretty sure that one of these spots was the place where Governor John Winthrop built the ship “The Blessing of the Bay,” a 36-ton boat that was probably the first vessel built in Massachusetts. The boat was launched on July 4, 1631. I find the “July 4” to be amusing.
11. Site of Ten Hills Farm
This is where Governor Winthrop spent his first winter in America, before moving to a townhouse in Boston. He maintained Ten Hills Farm as a “country estate” that he visited often. The book says the area is “now covered with modern residences,” and we think we’re right in showing you this street, because it happens to be called…Ten Hills Road. (I love it when stuff like that happens.)
12. Magoun House
We spent a lot of time scurrying around people’s private property trying to figure out which house was the correct one, but we think we’re right with this one. The book says it’s gray, which this house is not, but this house otherwise fits the description much more closely than any other house in the era: two-and-a-half stories, wooden, with a “delicate arched fanlight, one of the best Colonial specimens remaining in Greater Boston.” This house was the location of Somervile’s first printing press.
13. Old Powder House
Built in 1703 to be a gristmill, this “circular field-stone structure 40 feet high, with cone-shaped shingled roof, was a storm-center of Revolutionary history.” A STORM-CENTER, I tell you. On September 1, 1774, General age seized the 250 half-barrel of gunpowder in this mill. The following day, in reaction, thousands of patriots assembled on Cambridge Common, determined to fight the British then and there. “Judicious counsel” talked them down, and war didn’t start until the following April. In 1775, the American army besieging Boston used this powder house as their “magazine,” whatever that might mean.
The walk up to the Old Powder House was dotted with other interesting things, about which the book had nothing to say.
This wins the award for strangest monument I’ve ever seen. There’s a story behind this monument, you just know it. Sadly, the book doesn’t tell it. The book doesn’t even mention the pickle factory. If it was a shoe factory, you know the book would be all over it.
Something else the book chooses not to tell us about.
Oh, this is just a random photo of me with a my-sized TINY tree, that makes me look like a GIANT.
To get to the Old Powder House, we had to cross the James A. Reynolds Traffic Circle.
See? “Traffic Circle” is a nice way of saying ROTARY OF DEATH. I hate driving on rotaries. I hate crossing rotaries even more. You had to keep an eye out, because cars were coming from EVERYWHERE, any second your life might end in pursuit of a good picture for the motor tour.
However, this rotary is a little bit better than many rotaries for having in the middle of it this kind of adorable thing that I loved:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-02-04 04:28 am (UTC)i'm pointing my davis sq buds at this post, 'cause it's pretty - spring will come again! tks much!!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-04 05:08 am (UTC)I always have this feeling that someday I'm going to walk right by you and never know it. Or maybe I already have! O.o
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-04 05:45 am (UTC)I mean...chances are they know something about their own building. (Though...all I can tell you about my library building is that it's built on a faultline, and is thus built in two pieces and on rollers. ...This may be why I'm not the Local History Librarian, and instead work in Collection Development.)
:)
I'm glad that you survived the Rotary of Death.
(And, just for fun, I'm using the icon of my Nana who grew up in the general Boston area...some of the time.)
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-05 05:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-05 06:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 03:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 07:36 pm (UTC)The park at Powder House used to have a wonderful concrete drinking fountain that constantly spouted fresh, cold water. It also had a few parking spots nearby, so it became a rendezvous. ("Meet you at City Soda," was the mantra.)
Rotaries are never kind to pedestrians, but for natives navigating them is easy -- and more efficient than intersections -- as long as you remember that the right of way belongs to those already in the rotary. It's that simple.
I always thought that sign was cool, though I could never figure out where exactly it was pointing to without crashing into someone in front of me. The best part is that, when I was a kid, that sign was illuminated.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-05-11 08:34 pm (UTC)http://www.swindonweb.com/index.asp?m=8&s=115&ss=289
(no subject)
From: