The latest edition of the Mapping Feminist Cambridge walking tour, this time featuring Harvard Square, will launch next week. Sign up to reserve your spot!
The Women’s Commission is thrilled to launch the third and final tour of the Mapping Feminist Cambridge series, Harvard Square 1970s-1990s, with two walking tours July 25, 6-8pm and August 11, 2-4pm. Click below to sign up:
Throughout the 1970s to 1990s, Harvard Square activists organized around labor rights, housing justice, education, lesbian advocacy, music, poetry, and more. Come learn about women’s entrepreneurship in the emerging hospitality sector and how many of the restaurants and inns from this era became long-standing establishments, hear about the vibrant music scene in coffee houses and on street corners, discover feminist art tucked into alley ways, and learn how Cambridge youth were also making their mark. While organizing at Harvard University is included in this tour, the primary focus is on local grassroots activism and organizing.
319th Harvard commencement interrupted by Saundra Graham and activists from the Riverside neighborhood, photographed by Associated Press on June 11, 1970 (via Digital Commonwealth)
Mapping Feminist Cambridge is a series of three historic tours focused on the feminist movement in Cambridge from the 1970s–1990s. From the takeover of 888 Memorial Drive, to the formation of the first domestic violence shelter on the East Coast, to one of the earliest feminist bookstores, to the home of one of the initial women’s studies courses – Mapping Feminist Cambridge is a vibrant account of feminist organizing and politics. Each tour – Inman Square, Central Square, and Harvard Square – spans several organizations and provides context about the movement and its priorities including racial equity, reproductive health care and abortion access, women in film and print, healing for survivors, lesbian and bisexual visibility, political collectives, and so much more.
Image: Bird’s Eye Map of Cambridge, 1877. Franklin View Co.
Did you know that Sherman Street in North Cambridge was once called Dublin Street? And that a small housing development off Dublin (Bolton St) was once known as New Ireland? In fact, in the 1840s before the street had been officially laid out, the whole area around Sherman St was referred to as “Dublin” (in quotes) or Dublin Village (without quotes).
Why were so many Irish living in that neighborhood? Clay pits and cattle. The cattle market at Porter Square had been functioning since the early 1800s and was a big employer. (For more on the cattle market, see our post from National Cow Appreciation Day). Since Dublin Street ran through so many clay pits and brick yards, this post focuses on the influence of that industry.
New England Brick Company (NEBCO) kiln, date unknown. CHC collections.
The growth of Boston in the mid-19th century created high demand for bricks as a fireproof construction material – which meant high demand for clay. Retreating glaciers left vast beds of clay in parts of eastern Massachusetts. The beds in North Cambridge were particularly accessible because of the railroad built through the area in 1842, and so were among the first to be exploited. You can see two of these clay pits in the 1854 Walling map below, to the left of the Catholic Cemetery.
The brick business in North Cambridge began in the mid-1840s when ice dealer Nathaniel Jarvis Wyeth (1802-1856), who lived near Fresh Pond, began selling his land in the area. The extension of the Charlestown Branch railroad through North Cambridge in 1842 had given a big boost to brick production by providing an economical way of shipping bricks. In 1847, Wyeth opened his own brick business.
Dublin Street was laid out in 1847 from what was then Kidder’s Lane (next named Spruce St, and now Rindge Ave) south to the railroad tracks. It was subsequently extended to Walden St in 1851, to Garden St. in 1861,; and renamed Sherman Street, in honor of William Tecumseh Sherman, in 1895.
Detail: Map of the city of Cambridge, Middlesex County, Massachusetts by Henry Francis Walling (1854) showing Dublin Street in red
According to one source, “in 1858, around 187,000 bricks were produced each day in North Cambridge.”[i] More production meant more jobs. More jobs meant more immigrant laborers, and they needed housing.
Local farmer Solomon Sargent (1801- 1864) stepped in to fill the need. With a keen eye toward what the railroad would do to land values, in 1847 he surveyed 49 lots between the railroad tracks and Kidder’s Lane. In 1851, Sargent created the second subdivision off Dublin St. just south of the railroad tracks, which became “New Ireland.” It now includes Bellis Circle and Bolton Streets.
Detail: Map of Cambridge, Mass prepared by W.A. Mason & C.D. Elliot as is appeared in the 1872 Cambridge directory, showing Bolton St and the area of what later would be Bellis Cir
The diagram below shows the development of the brickyards south of Spruce St. in 1873.[ii] Dublin St is in green, Spruce St in red, and Concord Ave in purple.
North Cambridge brickyards in 1873, figure 35 from Survey of Architectural History in Cambridge: Northwest Cambridge by Cambridge Historical Commission (1977)
Life on Dublin Street
In early Cambridge city directories, before street numbers were used, Dublin St was often referred to as a general identifier of where someone lived. For example, a person’s address might be listed as “h. n Dublin” meaning house near Dublin. In 1856, there were 40 people listed on Dublin Street and an additional 18 listed as “h. n Dublin.”
In 1875, novelist and Atlantic Monthly editor William Dean Howells (1837-1920), described a stroll through the area:
“… I take my way up through the brickyards towards Dublin, the Irish settlement on the north,passing under the long sheds that shelter the kilns. The ashes lie cold about the mouthsof most, and the bricks are burnt to the proper complexion….. As I moved down the street, luminous on either hand with crimsoning and yellowing maples, I was so filled with the tender serenity ofthe scene, as not to be troubled by the spectacle of small Irish houses standing miserably about on the flats ankle deep, as it were, in little pools of the tide, or to be aware at first, of a sluggish movement of men through the streets, and a flying of children through the broken fences of the neighborhood, and across the vacant lots on which the insulted sign-boards forbade them totrespass. Here and there abandoned hoopskirts defied decay and near the half-finished woodenhouses, empty mortar beds and bits of lath and slate were strewn over the scarred and mutilated ground, adding their interest to the scene.”
W. D. Howells, Suburban Sketches, 1875
As can still be seen today, (and in some of the photos below) many workers’ cottages were built on high, brick foundations. This may have been to avoid digging a cellar in the marshy land, or, because bricks were so readily available, it was just easier to build up rather than dig down. A good example of this is #132 Sherman Street, demolished in 1972 and pictured below.
132 Sherman Street, built 1852 and demolished 1972. Photograph by Robert R. Rettig, ca. 1967.
In other instances, two family houses were created by jacking up a wood frame house to create a more livable space in what had been the brick basement. [iii].
In the 1870s, the local grocer on Dublin St was Jeremiah Murphy (b. Ireland, 1820) whose store was adjacent to his home at #187 Dublin St. Neighbors might have enjoyed buying Smoked Neat’s Tongue for 20 cents/lb., oysters (then cheap source of protein) at the astonishing rate of only 40 cents/qt., eggs at 28 cents/doz., or the all-important potato from 50 cents to $1.50 per bushel. Or, perhaps you wanted to pick up some “Irish Moss,” which was advertised in many grocery stores in Cambridge. “Irish Moss” is a nutrient-rich red seaweed long harvested in Ireland, dried, and used as a sort of gelatin. Here is recipe for “Irish Moss Blanc Mange” from 1897:
Cambridge Chronicle December 18, 1897
Jeremiah Murphy’s house today:
#187 Sherman St. today (left side) adjacent to the historic Abraham Watson House at 181-183 Sherman St., just out of the picture to the left. Photograph by author, 2023.
If you were a man, in 1876 you might have joined the meeting advertised below to organize an Independent Workingman’s Club. This is the only reference to “Murphy Hall” on Dublin St found to date. It is unknown which of the four Murphys living on Dublin St at that time may have owned a separate structure known as “Murphy Hall.”
Cambridge Chronicle October 28, 1876
The People
Many are familiar with the big picture when it comes to how the potato famine in mid-19th century led to a surge in Irish emigration to the United States. Soon, there were four distinct Irish enclaves in Cambridge: East Cambridge, Cambridgeport, “The Upper Marsh,” (West Cambridge between Mt. Auburn and Foster St) and in “Dublin” in North Cambridge.
To celebrate this St. Patrick’s Day, we set out to find some particular stories about the particular Irish people living on Dublin Street back around 1872. The year was chosen because the City Directory for that year is the closest to the census of 1870, which was used to confirm people’s birth and birth dates. But finding out the personal stories of individual people was harder than anticipated. This is for several reasons: for one, many Irish in Cambridge shared the same names. Secondly, the young laborer population was very fluid and their listings in the City Directory inconsistent. Some, known to have been living on Dublin St from the Directory, did not show up at all in the 1870 census. This made figuring out who was who in newspaper articles difficult.
Take the example of Jeremiah Murphy mentioned above. He was initially listed as a laborer and subsequently as a grocer. The 1876 Directory lists 120 adults named Murphy in Cambridge, of whom 11 were named “Jeremiah.” Is our grocer the same Jeremiah Murphy noted in the newspapers as arrested for “assault and battery” in 1855? Or the Chief Marshall of a St. Patrick’s Day parade in 1873? Or a member from Ward 5 of the City Democratic Committee? Obituaries reveal many with the same name as those living on Dublin St owned real estate, were deeply involved in ward politics, and had successful businesses. But even obituaries are not always enough to confirm the deceased actually lived on Dublin St.
The clay pits provided work, but they were also a hazard. Newspapers were full of accounts of children drowning, workers being crushed by sliding banks, horses going over the edge, or boys crashing through the ice while ice skating. By 1892, “the clay pit nuisance” was being discussed in the papers, with a suggestion to “include the pits as ponds in parks”[iv] It took another 98 years for that idea to become a reality.
Time went by. Many Irish moved to other neighborhoods while French Canadians replaced those workers working in the brickyards. Eventually, all but one of the hazardous clay pits were filled in. Jerry’s Pond (formerly known as Jerry’s Pit) survives on Rindge Avenue. In 1951, those owned by the New England Brick Co. were sold to the City of Cambridge, and this area became the town dump. The dump closed in the early 1970s. Finally, in 1990, the idea for a park first mentioned in 1892 came to fruition. Danehy Park is named after former Mayor Thomas W. Danehy whose paternal great-grandfather and maternal grandfather had been born in Ireland. The Danehy family had grown up in the neighborhood, on Sargent and Yerxa streets.
City dump in September 1952. Photograph by Edward F. Carney.
The 1872 Directory listed 86 adults on Dublin Street. The Irish birthplace of 50 of those is listed in the 1870 census. Of the remaining 36 residents, nearly all have Irish names, but their birthplace cannot be definitively confirmed in the census. Below are images illustrating what some of their homes look like as photographed by the author in 2023:
124 Sherman St: home of Johanna Callahan 1868-1875.
163 Sherman St: home the Nelligan family 1872-1885.
169 Sherman St: home of Patrick & Hannah Lawler and family from at least 1868-1902.
194 Sherman St: home to Murphys, Rourkes, Kelley’s, Hurleys and others from at least 1868 to around 1885.
Finally, we can’t forget that symbol of the Irish culture of the neighborhood, Paddy’s Lunch at 260 Walden Street which opened for business 86 years ago in 1934.
Image: Wicked Local
Today’s post was written by CHC volunteer, Kathleen M. Fox.
Hello! My name is Phillip Wong, and I am a graduate student from Simmons University volunteering with the Cambridge Historical Commission. I am happy to say that there is a newly processed collection at the CHC! Say hello to the Dewey and Almy Chemical Company Records, 1919-1994. Bradley Dewey (1887-1971) and Charles Almy Jr. (1888-1954) established the company at 66 Whittemore Avenue in 1919, having specialized in chemical treatments and processes as students at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Dewey assumed the role of president, and Almy took charge of sales.
Bradley Dewey (left) and Charles Almy, Jr. (right), ca. 1950
Inspection Certification for the site at 62 Whittemore Ave., 1954
Aerial photograph of the 62 Whittemore Ave. location, ca. 1990
The firm’s main outputs were sealing compounds for the food industry and new machinery to help with production. Their early products included Wilson Soda Lime, stronger labeling adhesives, and shoe cements, and with these early successes the Dewey and Almy Chemical Company established plants in Illinois, California, Canada, Italy, France, England, Germany, and Argentina.
Account book covering finances in Naples, Italy, ca. 1942
The company was acquired in 1954 by W.R. Grace Inc.; the newly formed Dewey and Almy Research Division developed weather balloons, brake bands, and Cryovac® shrink film. The company’s evolution is detailed in the many company histories in the collection.
Advertisements for Dewey and Almy’s products, including a balloon for advertising and toys
Decoy Duck (left) and Experimental Weather Balloon (right)
One of the interesting aspects of the collection is the thorough documentation of the company’s and their peers’ machinery. The ‘Machinery Photographs’ files contain images that trace the evolution of and improvements to the company’s processes, including examinations of other company’s machinery (one example is their research into the Hawaiian Pineapple Company)
Photograph of factory worker demonstrating proper stirring methods, 1928
Photograph of factory worker alongside a lacquer machine for the Hawaiian Pineapple Company
Other items of note include the technical bulletins, in which research into new technologies is presented to and considered by the heads of the division. These reports include summaries of new technologies, informational pamphlets and articles, and researcher suggestions for how the technology could be introduced into existing work processes.
Technical Bulletin for handling contaminated materials along with supplementary pamphlet, 1946-1948
Organizing the collection wasn’t difficult, despite its size, as a lot of the documentation could be easily categorized based on its function within the company. Those in charge of documentation made sure everything was properly labeled and kept together (be it with screw posts, tiny brass fasteners, or rusty nails). For example, if someone were to come in and view the Machinery Photographs, they would see that most of the folders are marked with the date the photo was taken, the name of the part or process, the specification number of the part, and whether the part or process was obsolete.
To end this post, I would like to take a moment to talk about my favorite piece of ephemera: a short case study called Causes of Industrial Peace Under Collective Bargaining: The Dewey and Almy Chemical Company.
Published in December 1948 and written by Douglas McGregor and Joseph N. Scanlon (both lecturers at MIT), the case study details how the relationship between upper management and union workers developed into one of peace and health after initial conflict. It provides interesting insights into how the company worked from an outsider’s perspective and is an early example of giving a voice to those not always represented by the company image. Worth a gander!
Here we are smack in the middle of the sweltering and humid heat of “the Dog Days” of summer.
The actual dates of the Dog Days can vary according to sources, but they generally fall July 3 and August 11. As Becky Little writing for National Geographic tells us:
“For many, the ‘dog days,’ evoke those summer days that are so devastatingly hot that even dogs would lie around on the asphalt, panting. But originally, the phrase had nothing to do with dogs, or even with the lazy days of summer. Instead, the dog days refer to Sirius, the brightest star in the constellation Canis Major, which means “big dog” in Latin and is said to represent one of Orion’s hunting dogs…To the Greeks and Romans, the ‘dog days’ occurred around the time Sirius appears to rise alongside the sun, in late July in the Northern Hemisphere. They believed the heat from the two stars combined is what made these days the hottest of the year, a period that could bring fever or even catastrophe.”
So, what to do? Go shopping. Some Cambridge merchants in the 19th century used the arrival of “Dog Days” as a marketing gimmick:
Cambridge Chronicle June 24, 1876
In July of 1877, grocer Sam James (545 Main Street) claimed that if you buy June Butter it is cheaper and better than that made in dog days—“Try it once and you will thank me.” (Cambridge Chronicle July 7, 1877)
Another grocer, J. A. Holmes, advertised the implication that after the arrival of dog days his eggs would not be as fresh.
Cambridge Chronicle January 12, 1889
It was also the time to advertise summer clothes. Yacht caps, anyone?
Cambridge Chronicle July 25, 1891
In 1895, the J.H. Corcoran store also led off with underwear:
Cambridge Chronicle August 10, 1895
G. C. W. Fuller, Main Street…how about negligee shirts?
Cambridge Chronicle July 23,1892
It has been difficult to find the hottest day on record in July for Cambridge, but we did find this for neighboring Boston from the Boston Evening Transcript in 1911 (excerpts):
Boston Evening Transcript July 3, 1911
And now that the political season of 2022 is revving up, lets conclude with this snippet from 1926:
Cambridge Chronicle August 6, 1926
Today’s post was written by CHC volunteer Kathleen Fox
According to an article in the Scientific American (April 25, 2014), honey bees arrived on the scene about 130 million years ago, having evolved from wasps at a time when “The vast supercontinent of Gondwana was beginning to break up, with South America drifting off to the west of Africa, and Australia moving majestically off to the east. Antarctica decided to head south…”
Fast forward to humanity entering the scene. Honey bees buzzed their way into the culture of civilizations as symbols of:
-the sun, community & celebration: Druids.
-royalty and power: Egyptians.
-the attributes of Christ: Christians.
-Mother Goddess, representing mutual support and fertility: Minoans.
-Aristaeus, god of bee-keeping: Greeks.
-immortality and resurrection: Merovingian royalty.
They were the Italian Renaissance sculptor Bernini’s symbol, and, in general, a symbol for industry, hard work and dedication.
Because of that hard work and dedication, honey bee communities have often served as a model for human society. They appear on the seal of the Massachusetts Historical Society (MHS), which “features a beehive with several honeybees buzzing around it.” (MassHist.org)
Massachusetts Historical Society seal, via masshist.org
The inscription reads “sic Vos Non Vobis” which translates roughly to “you work, but not for yourselves.” It was chosen in 1833 to represent the mission of the MHS.
Of course, the main attraction of honey bees is what they produce: honey.
TO GET THE HONEY YOU GOTTA KEEP THE BEES
Image via ShutterStock
Instructive articles about raising bees in Cambridge can be found as early as 1847 in the Cambridge Chronicle. Here is a startling idea—bees rob one another (who knew?)
Cambridge Chronicle May 20, 1847
There was the advice to add salt to their diet:
Cambridge Chronicle September 21, 1848
And in 1850, E. W. Stewart was advertising his newly patented “improvement in the rearing and feeding of Bees, for the production of honey.”
Cambridge Chronicle July 4, 1850
The article goes on: “…the food comprises a compound from which the bees will feed very eagerly, and in preference to any flower or artificial food ever before discovered: and sometimes in a single day the value of ten swarms has produced a hundred lbs. of honey, which readily brings the highest price in any market making it a source of very great profit to anyone who should keep bees enough to make a business of it. The honey is the best flavored and is as white and clear as any ever beheld….”
Here’s a comment about women’s suitability as bee keepers that would hardly fly today:
Cambridge Tribune May 4, 1918
While E. W. Stewart extolled the profitability of raising bees in 1850 (above), by 1918 keepers were being admonished that standard “box hives” were definitely not profitable.
Cambridge Tribune December 14, 1918
AND NOW TO THE MAIN EVENT: THE HONEY
Image via Dreamstime.com
Honey became a part of cuisine as soon as humans discovered it. It is believed that mead, which is made with wine and honey, may have been the “first alcoholic beverage known to man.” Greeks and Romans referred to it as “the nectar of the Gods.” In mid nineteenth century, buying honey in the comb seemed to be Cantabridgians’ favorite way to obtain the delectable nectar:
Cambridge Chronicle September 22, 1850
Cambridge Chronicle September 25, 1852
“Extracted honey,” which was less sought-after, came predominantly from California as in this advert of 1890, and mentioned in the following article.
Cambridge Chronicle October 25, 1890
Philip Seymour Crichton, an accountant and émigré from Canada, was keeping bees at his home on Hammond St. near the Harvard Divinity School. The article mentions the general preference for honey on the comb rather than extracted honey from California:
Cambridge Chronicle September 17, 1910
Cambridge Chronicle November 2, 1912
Cambridge Chronicle December 18, 1915
PRACTICAL AND MEDICAL USES OF HONEY
Honey wasn’t just for sweetening food and drink. It was also used as a main ingredient in toothpastes:
Cambridge Chronicle July 19, 1856
For treating burns:
Cambridge Chronicle October 13, 1860
And as an ingredient in soaps:
Cambridge Chronicle February 27, 1858
HONEY AND WAR
Honey bees just fly around doing their business, oblivious to the fact that their efforts played a part in supporting the war effort in both WWI and WWII, when citizens were exhorted to save sugar by substituting honey:
Cambridge Tribune November 24, 1917
Cambridge Sentinel August 17, 1918
Cambridge Tribune September 14, 1918
Cambridge Sentinel October 26, 1918
World War II
Cambridge Sentinel March 7, 1942 (excerpts below)
Cambridge Sentinel July 11, 1942
FUN BEE FACTS
“Honey Bee” by wwarby via Creative Commons
Cambridge Chronicle July 29, 1847
Cambridge Sentinel March 7, 1942 (excerpts)
Cambridge Sentinel January 9, 1915
BEES IN 2021
“Commercial honey bee operations are essential to agricultural production in the U.S., pollinating $15 billion worth of food crops each year. Honey bee colonies are moved around the country to pollinate important agricultural crops such as almonds, blueberries, and apples. Minimizing their losses and ensuring the health of both commercial and backyard colonies is critical to food production and supply.” (BeeCulture.com)
Alarmingly, these days honey bees are in decline. According to the annual survey by the Bee Informed Partnership (BIP) “beekeepers across the United States lost 45.5% of their managed honey bee colonies from April 2020 to April 2021.” (Auburn University Jun 24, 2021.)
Some bees abandon their hives for no apparent reason, a condition called Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD). It is speculated that a combination of pesticides, limited space, inadequate food supply, parasites or a virus targeting bees’ immune systems may be the cause. Fortunately, this has led to an uptick in interest in beekeeping.
Today’s post was written by CHC volunteer Kathleen Fox
Portrait of Charles Mason Hovey included in his work The Fruits of America
The Lady Sweet Apple, from The Fruits of America
Before you chomp into that next apple, pause for a moment to consider Charles Mason Hovey, Cambridge resident and world-renowned pomologist. He co-founded the American Pomological Society and wrote The Fruits of America in an effort to “reduce the chaos of names” and document consistency in naming fruits. As he was remembered:
“Horticulture on this continent is probably more indebted to him than to any living man.” “The Gardeners’ Monthly and Horticulturist” (Meehan, 1886)
Charles M. Hovey was born on Brookline Street in Cambridge in 1810, the sixth of seven children born to Phineas Brown Hovey (1770-1852) and Sarah Stone (1769-1846). His father’s family first arrived on American shores in 1635, and six generations later Charles’ father was proprietor of a grocery store at the corner of Main and Brookline Streets and an investor in Cambridgeport properties. Phineas Sr. being one of 16 children, Charles had 15 aunts and uncles on his father’s side alone – – which may explain why there are so many Hovey’s in Cambridge. The City Directory for 1848 (the first one available digitally) lists 15 Hoveys. The family included several grocers (including Charles’ brother Josiah Dana Hovey, see below), real estate agents, fire engineers, architects, a carriage smith, and a bacon curer.
Cambridge City Directory, 1866
An earlier relative, Thomas Hovey, ran the prominent Hovey Tavern in Cambridgeport which was burned down in 1828. The lithograph below, made from a drawing Charles Mason made of the tavern, shows his considerable drafting skills:
Excerpt of print in the collection of the Boston Athenaeum
Significantly, Charles’ father also owned a large garden, running from Massachusetts avenue at Pearl Street through to Franklin Street.
C. M. Hovey’s formal education appears to have ended with his 1824 Graduation from Cambridge Academy at the age of 14. By his mid- teens he was already enthusiastically gardening in his father’s garden. He took after the 18th century taxonomist Linnaeus, with a scientific approach to his interest, keeping meticulous notes and drawings on species and varieties. He did not want for energy: by age 19 he had a strawberry collection; and by age 24 he had created the first American strawberry derived from crossing varieties. Between 1832 and 1835 he had established his nursery in Cambridge, a seed store in Boston, and the first gardening magazine in America.
HOVEY & CO.
In 1832, at the age of 22, Charles and his brother Phineas Brown Hovey, Jr., (age 29) began their nursery with the purchase of one acre of land in Cambridgeport. Eight years later in 1840 they purchased 40 more acres on Cambridge St. Charles lived next door at 381 Broadway between Fayette and what would become Maple Street. The house/cottage that stood at 381 Broadway at the time Charles Hovey lived there no longer exists. The home was torn down in 1893 to make way for a new house constructed for then-owner owner John McFarlane.
1854 Walling Map with arrow towards Hovey’s house on Broadway
The nursery was divvied up into sections with pears and other fruit trees planted along its interior “lanes.” By 1848 the property included four greenhouses, each of which were 84 feet long. The size of his nursery was so staggering it is difficult to comprehend. The Cambridge Chronicle reported “Of pear trees it shows 1000 health and beautiful specimens growing in avenues, embracing about 400 varieties; while of these trees in stocks and ready purchasers, there are about 50,000. Of peaches, there are some 8,000 trees; of apples 200 varieties, and 30,000 trees for sale; of plums nectarines, apricots, cherries, about an equal number. (July 13, 1848).
Hovey specialized in the hybridization of plants, in particular was camellias. He developed a Camellia Japonica and named it for his wife, the “Mrs. Ann Maria Hovey.”
“…the whole neighborhood is scented with their odor, and an array of smaller flowering plants beautifully arranged the greenhouses and outdoors.” (Cambridge Chronicle July 13, 1848)
The Hovey strawberry, “regarded as the foundation of the New England strawberry industry” was grown on large scale until about 1890. It was “the first American strawberry variety that resulted from a planned cross, and it is an ancestor of most modern varieties.” (University of Vermont)
The Hovey’s Seedling Strawberry, from The Fruits of America (1851)
Apparently, one need not go directly to the nursery to place orders. Here is an unlikely sales agent:
Cambridge Chronicle May 6, 1847
Two years after starting the nursery, in 1834 Hovey and his brother Phineas B. (also a horticulturist) opened A “Horticultural Seed Store” at 79 & 81 on Cornhill (previously called Market Street) in Boston. It was conveniently located just below the offices of the Mass. Horticultural Society at #81 Cornhill.
Image: Historic New England
Boston Post March 19, 1834
Eventually the store moved to 53 North Market Street, opposite Faneuil Hall:
Image: Mount Auburn Historical Collections.
Boston Evening Transcript April 6, 1865
THE MASSACHUSETTS HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY
Hovey was a regular exhibitor at the Massachusetts Horticultural Society from as early as 1831, two years after the society was founded. By 1833 he was an official member. He served on numerous committees, in particular the Committee on the Library, and won countless weekly exhibition prizes. He served as President from 1863-1867. During that time, he oversaw the construction of the new hall for the society, laying the cornerstone and dedicating it in 1865 at 100-102 Tremont Street, at the corner of Bromfield St, opposite the Granary Burying Ground:
Exterior view of Horticultural Hall, corner of Tremont Street and Bromfield Street, ca. 1880. Image: Historic New England.
PUBLICATIONS
America’s first magazine dedicated to horticulture was started by Charles and his brother Phineas Jr. “The American Gardener” appeared on the scene in 1835. Later the name charmingly changed to “The Magazine of Horticulture, Botany, and All Useful Discoveries and Improvements in Rural Affairs.” Hovey remained its editor until 1868 when it ceased publication. (Hutchinson)
Cover of “American Gardener’s Magazine and Register of Useful Discoveries and Improvements in Horticulture and Rural Affairs” (1835)
Perhaps most impressive is Hovey’s two-volume quarto, The Fruits of America, with luscious chromolithographs by William Sharp which he published between 1848-1856.
Title page of The Fruits of America, volume 1 by C.M. Hovey (published 1848-1856)
The Coe’s Golden Drop Plum from The Fruits of America
The Hovey Cherry from The Fruits of America
FAMILY LIFE
In 1835 Hovey married Ann Marie Chaponil. (1814-1871). The couple had five daughters and one son. Only three of their children survived past the age of 33. Tragedy came to Hovey’s door in the 1870’s when in quick succession he lost his wife to consumption in 1871, two daughters in 1872 (one also of consumption) and a third daughter lost to consumption in 1878. Their son followed in his father’s footsteps and became a horticulturist in California.
THE DEMISE OF THE NURSERY
After Hovey’s death, the nursery was taken over by William E. Doyle (1843-1916), Cambridge democratic politician, alderman and prominent florist in Boston. Recognizing the value of the Hovey name, he referred to Hovey in all advertising, but renamed the nursery “Doyle’s Conservatories,” which he operated at #1509 Cambridge Street until around 1914.
Cambridge Chronicle, November 2, 1889
Cambridge Chronicle December 21, 1889
Then, in the 1890’s land on Cambridge Street began to be sold off for residential development. Doyle put through Camellia Avenue on the west of the Hovey estate and Leonard Ave on the east. By 1893 he had built eight houses on Leonard Street, with ten more in the works.
Excerpt from the Cambridge Tribune May 6, 1893.
The street names Hovey, Myrtle, Magnolia and Camellia Avenues mark the neighborhood bounds of the nursery. By 1894 the site for the Holy Ghost Hospital for Incurables had already been laid out.
G. W. Bromley Map, 1894
In 1895, the Holy Ghost Hospital for Incurables was established by the sisters of Charity of Montreal, whose founder was Marguerite d’Youville.
Postcard of Holy Ghost Hospital for Incurables, published by M. C. Lane Co., Boston
The name evolved over the years to the Youville Hospital, Youville Hospital and Rehabilitation Center, and finally, in 2009, the Spaulding Hospital of Cambridge. Click here to read our blog post and learn about the history of the former Holy Ghost Hospital.
Charles Mason Hovey died of heart disease on September 1, 1887
Engraving based on portrait by Alonzo Hartwell of Boston
He is buried in Lot 4205 on Mound Avenue in the Mt. Auburn Cemetery
Cambridge Press September 3, 1887
Hovey had been an Honorary member of the Royal Societies of London and of Edinburgh, and President of the Cambridgeport Horticultural Library Association
Excerpt from the Cambridge Chronicle November 5 1887 upon the death of Jenny Lind, two months after the death of C.M. Hovey
Today’s post was written by CHC volunteer, Kathleen Fox.
SOURCES
“A Taste for Horticulture B. June Hutchinson” Arnold Arboretum Ancestry.com Appletons’ Cyclopædia of American Biography Cambridge Public Library Digital Newspapers and Atlases Friends of Mount Auburn. 2012. “Charles Mason Hovey (1810 – 1887).” Mount Auburn Cemetery (blog). January 16, 2012. Grubinger, Vern. n.d. “History of the Strawberry.” Uvm.Edu. Hutchinson, B. June. 1980. “A Taste for Horticulture.” Arnoldia 40 (1): 31–48. Kevles, Daniel J. July/August 2011. “Cultivating Art.” Smithsonian Magazine, July/August 2011. Massachusetts Horticultural Society, and Robert Manning. 1880. History of the Massachusetts Horticultural Society. 1829-1878. Boston, Mass. Meehan, Thomas. 1886. The Gardeners’ Monthly and Horticulturist. Mount Auburn Cemetery Wikipedia Wilson, James Grant, and John Fiske (eds). 1888. Appletons’ Cyclopædia of American Biography. New York: D. Appleton & Co.
View of the greenhouse complex from within the garden, 1867.
From 1805 to 1948, Harvard University operated a botanic garden under the direction of its botany department. In addition to its role in scientific research and education, the garden was open to the public and became a very popular park. Located on seven acres at the corner of Linnaean and Garden streets, the garden featured a greenhouse filled with exotic tropical plants. The structure was one of several buildings organized in a line on the northern, elevated portion of the site, including the professor’s residence, a herbarium, a library, and a lecture room.
1886 Hopkins atlas showing the layout of the botanical garden buildings and walkway circulation. The greenhouse complex is circled in red.
The greenhouse was designed by Ithiel Town who also designed the professor’s residence (now located at 88 Garden Street). Known for his Greek Revival designs, Town also developed a truss system for bridges, which is named after him. The dimensions of the greenhouse are not known. The structure consisted of a semicircular central block with a pitched roof and lower wings that also had pitched roofs. Cold frames were located along the southern foundation, and a toolshed/workshop was located at the north wall. Wooden shutters slid up and down on tracks. Two cisterns inside the greenhouse were filled with water from a nearby spring, and two wood- and coal-burning stoves heated the structure. The greenhouse featured a traveler’s tree of Madagascar (Ravenala madagascariensis), Indian bamboo (Bambusa bosa), an extensive collection of cacti and palm plants, and over 200 orchids.
View of greenhouse to the right, along with library and herbarium situated on a terrace overlooking the botanical garden, 1867.
An article in a publication called The Century Illustrated Monthly from 1886 described the greenhouse complex:
“From the lecture room, you may pass directly into the conservatory, or what is pleasanter, you may walk out around the big hickory on the terrace and enter the rounded front of the central greenhouse, where an ambitious bamboo almost fills the doorway with masses of dark green drooping leaves … . There are several distinct compartments so as to suit the different requirements of the tropical and sub-tropical plants here brought together from all parts of the world. The 1400 species grown insure a goodly supply of blossoms at all seasons of the year, and hundreds of kinds not found in other greenhouses.”
The structure was razed in the late 1940s to make way for a new residential development for Harvard faculty and students, as well as returning military servicemen.
With the establishment of the Arnold Arboretum in Jamaica Plain in 1872, research on woody plants was moved to that location. The herbarium collection continues to be maintained by Harvard at a facility at 22 Divinity Avenue. The former herbarium building, now known as Kittredge Hall, is the home of Harvard University Press.
Below are several illustrations of the greenhouse and plants in The Century Monthly Illustrated drawn by Roger Riordan, Harry Fenn, Francis Lathrop, and E. P. Hayden.
Sources:
Ernest Ingersoll, “Harvard’s Botanic Garden and Its Botanists,” The Century Monthly Illustrated, 1886, pp.242-243.
Susan E. Maycock and Charles M. Sullivan, Building Old Cambridge, 2016.
Charles A. Hammond, “The Botanic Garden in Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1805-1834,” The Herbarist, Vol. 53, 1987, The Herb Society of America.
This week is National Wildlife Week, a time to celebrate our nation’s incredible wildlife. According to their website, “the National Wildlife Federation is working to show how connecting with wildlife and the outdoors can help children and adults thrive during these unprecedented times.”
In honor of this week, we are featuring a special place in Cambridge to observe local wildlife and nature, the Alewife Brook Reservation. In addition to providing information on the history of Cambridge’s built environment, the CHC also collects historical information on Cambridge’s natural environment and landscape, and the City’s various land revitalization projects over the years.
Alewife Brook near Concord Avenue, 1904.
“The Fish Book.” Alewife Revitalization Study, 1979, Cambridge Community Development Department.
The Alewife Brook Reservation is a unique natural resource consisting of 160 acres of protected wetlands, woods, and meadows. A Massachusetts state park, it is “home to hundreds of species, including hawks, coyotes, beavers, snapping turtles, wild turkeys and muskrats,” as well as birds like osprey and Great Blue Heron. The park’s ponds, Little Pond, Perch Pond, and Blair Pond, are also spawning grounds for anadromous herring.
Great Blue Heron eating tadpole, Fresh Pond. Photo credit: Amanda Hodges.
The surrounding area of Fresh Pond and its natural watershed were formed by melting glacial ice and underground springs. Alewife Brook, historically known as the Menotomy River, is situated in what was the traditional territory of the Massachusett people and served as a gathering place for other groups. Native Americans came to the Pond and nearby area for fresh water; they constructed fish weirs along Alewife Brook, which traversed what was called the “Great Swamp” (also called the Great Marsh) to the north of Fresh Pond; and they hunted in the area’s marshes and uplands. Alewife Brook was given its name after the abundance of alewife fish that returned from the Atlantic each spring, swimming up the Mystic River into the Brook to spawn.
Swamp and maple woods near claypits, 1890-1891. Source: Henry L. Rand Collection, Southwest Harbor Public Library, Maine. Copied 12/92.
Fresh Pond Marshes about 1866. William Brewster, Birds of the Cambridge Region, 1906. Source: “Finding Alewife” slideshow by Charles M. Sullivan.
As industrialization in Cambridge grew, the surrounding area was used for claypits and ice harvesting at Fresh Pond. Marshes and wetlands were filled in to make room for new development.
Clay pit, Alewife Brook (M.D.C.), 1904.
In the early 1900s, landscape architect Charles Eliot planned for a reservation in conjunction with the Alewife Brook Parkway, forming part of the Metropolitan Park District. Eliot hoped to connect the Mystic River with Fresh Pond, creating parks along the watershed system. The Alewife Brook was straightened and channelized next to the parkway between 1909-1912 along with road construction, and landscaping was by the Olmsted Brothers firm.
Fresh Pond Drive, ca. 1905. Source: Detroit Pub. Co., Library of Congress.
Today, the Alewife Brook Reservation is a popular spot for people to walk, bike, nature watch/bird watch, and relax, while the Friends of Alewife Reservation work to protect the area. A 2011 project by the City of Cambridge constructed a 3.4-acre storm water management wetland, which also created habitats such as deep marsh and riparian forest.
Source: Friends of Alewife Reservation.
The CHC has many images – paintings, drawings, photographs and maps – of the Alewife area spanning several decades, as well as reports written in the 1970s and 1980s regarding Alewife’s revitalization. Once City offices are again open to the public, make an appointment with us to see these resources.
Fresh Pond Marshes looking southwest, 1904.
Fresh Pond, ca. 1949-1950, Anthony Cabral. Cambridge Photo Morgue Collection.
For a more in-depth history of the Alewife area, especially during the 19th century, we recommend: The Great Swamp of Arlington, Belmont and Cambridge – An Historic Perspective of its Development 1630-2001 by Sheila Cook (2002) and Fresh Pond: The History of a Cambridge Landscape by Jill Sinclair (2009), a small part of which is available on Google Books. For a visual history of Alewife and the Fresh Pond area, see Charles M. Sullivan’s slideshow, “Finding Alewife” (2014).
Cows Near Fresh Pond, September 12, 1891, Henry Lathrop Rand, Henry L. Rand Collection, Southwest Harbor Public Library.
View of lower garden and memorial with Longfellow’s house in the background
Across the street from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s House on Brattle Street is a 2-acre park extending down to the Charles River, established in memory of the great poet. The park includes an open lawn area off of Brattle Street bounded by several residences as well as the Friends Meeting House of Cambridge and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and descends to a lower garden and memorial on Mt. Auburn Street.
Soon after Longfellow’s passing in 1882, a group of his colleagues organized an association to create a memorial in his honor and formed the Longfellow Memorial Association. The Association sought to erect a monument and create a public park to be given to the City of Cambridge. Longfellow’s children donated two acres, consisting of the central portion of a meadow, in 1883. This donation of land came with a plan illustrating their desire for an open grass area to preserve the view of the river from the house, and a monument located in the northern section of the park. A horseshoe-shaped road was proposed to provide access to subdivided lots planned by the Longfellows.
Proposed plan by Longfellow’s heirs with the monument located on the upper green space.
Maintaining the open meadow was a concern by all involved in the park. As Longfellow’s son, Ernest, wrote:
“Such a breathing space on the river in connection with the playing fields of the College, which my father was so instrumental in securing, will one day be a great boon to Cambridge when it becomes crowded, and would be a better monument to my father and more in harmony than any graven image that could be erected.”
Plan by Charles Eliot, 1887 (National Park Service)
In 1887, Charles Eliot, a landscape architect who apprenticed with Frederick Law Olmsted, was commissioned to design the park. He envisioned a park with two distinct areas, an expanse of lawn surrounded by the horseshoe-shaped road and walks, and a garden in the lowland with paths and a playground. To mitigate poor drainage, Eliot recommended the upland be used to fill the area and create a brook. He also included shrubs to screen traffic on Mt. Auburn Street, and trees along the edges of the garden. Between the garden and the green, Eliot proposed an exedra, a semi-circular recessed seating area, facing south and on axis with the front door of Longfellow’s house. A proposed walk would lead to the highest point on the site, ending in a terrace and a set of stairs. Only a few elements of Eliot’s design were actually executed. Changes included a large stone stair case instead of the exedra, and fewer shrubs were installed. In addition, trees were not planted on the edges, and the brook was not created.
View from Longfellow’s house to the river, ca. 1889 (Ellis Gray Loring Papers, Harvard University)
The design of the monument was given to the sculptor Daniel French. The siting of the statue was debated between the heirs who wanted it closer to Brattle Street, and the Association who agreed with Eliot’s original recommendation. The dispute was settled by Frederick Olmsted, Jr. who concurred with Eliot’s idea. Olmsted Jr. also recommended that the design of the monument integrate and redesign the existing steps. The staircase was replaced by a stone retaining wall, designed by the architect Henry Bacon, which forms the base of the sculpture. Two sets of stairs flank the wall, and at the base of the sculpture was a sunken memorial garden designed by Paul Frost.
View of stone steps connecting the upper and lower levels of the park, ca. 1910 (Library of Congress)
View of lower level of the park looking back to Longfellow’s house, ca. 1915 (Boston Public Library, Leon Abdalian photo)
View of portrait bust of Longfellow with 6 characters from his poems depicted in bas-relief behind the sculpture
After 1914, pathways were repaved in concrete and narrowed. Houses and institutions were built around the park. In the 1930s and 1940s, several WPA projects repaired the drive and walkways, and planted shrubs and trees in the garden. Lighting was also installed during this time. By the 1970s, a mature canopy of trees had grown in the garden. In 1989, Carol R. Johnson and Associates was hired to address the deterioration of the lower park. Some trees were removed and re-planted, and others were pruned. The lawn was restored, and the area was regraded for erosion control. Granite cobbles were installed at the south gate, and stone dust paving was placed at the base of the monument.
Sources
Evans, Catherine, Cultural Landscape Report for Longfellow National Historic Site, Volume I: Site History and Existing Conditions, National Park Service, 1993.
Osterby-Benson, Krisan, “Longfellow Park, A Room With A View,” May, 1983.
Maycock, Susan, and Charles Sullivan, Building Old Cambridge, MIT Press, 2016.
Today’s blog post comes to you from our guest author, CHC volunteer Michael Kenney.
“Was there a city of Norumbega” on the Charles River just upstream from Cambridge? That was the rhetorical question posed in 1891 by Eben Norton Horsford, a chemistry professor at Harvard and developer of Rumford Baking Powder. And he was certain of the affirmative answer.
Horsford’s brook-no-doubt answer is to be found in his Defenses of Norumbega, now in the library of the Cambridge Historical Commission. It is an answer he proves to his satisfaction with a series of 16th century maps and the journals of an 18th century seaman, with the name itself derived from the Algonquin word for “a quiet place between the rapids.”
As for the “habit of ear” which was a key element of his researches, Horsford notes in an aside that he had spent his childhood among Indians as the son of missionaries.
It is a densely-argued thesis, with excursions into the accounts of voyages from those of Leif Ericsson to Samuel de Champlain, along with the narratives of explorers and merchants who visited the “city of Norumbega.”
Should one wonder what remains, Horsford offers, by way of an answer, speculative maps including the one reproduced here (above), as well as the curious photograph (below) of what he describes as “the dam, docks and wharves of the ancient city of Norumbega,” sitting alongside the Charles River at Weston.
And the still-curious will find, tucked into the farthest southwest corner of Cambridge, a collection of Horsford-themed streets — Thingvalla Avenue (named for a kettle-hole which Horsford thought was a Norse amphitheater), Ericsson Street, Norman Street, Norumbega Street, and Vineyard Street.
Stay tuned for a future blog post on the interesting Mr. Horsford and Rumford Baking Powder.
