Bostonia

Ashes to Ashes, Fun to Funky

2005-04-22T09:22:00.000-04:00

While doing some research the other day, yr humble correspondent stumbled upon this 2002 press release commemorating the 75th anniversary of the infamous Sacco & Vanzetti trial. Apparently, & much to the surprise & amusement of yr humble correspondent, the cremated ashes of Mr Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti are kept in the Rare Books Department of the Boston Public Library.

Amazing what one can find in libraries these days, what what?

Happy Birthday, Jacob!

2005-04-21T09:11:00.000-04:00

Image: The Bottles of Jacob Wirth
Speaking of fine dining: on this day in 1868, the Jacob Wirth Restaurant opened for business at 60 Eliot Street. Much congratulations & a very happy 137th, Mr. Wirth!

Hidden Beacon Hill

2005-04-19T10:12:00.000-04:00

Nestled in the basement of 37 Bowdoin Street, on the north slope of Beacon Hill, is a restaurant named Grotto. Yr humble correspondent has for a while now desired to write up a review of this adorable & obscure establishment, for truly it is one of his favorite places to dine.

Oft-overlooked due to its small size and somewhat out-of-the-way location, Grotto is one of those "local secrets" that make neighborhoods in Boston feel so distinctly Old World. One could be an old hand at the labyrinth of Beacon Hill's hidden gardens & alleyways & still overlook Grotto, which is indeed most unfortunate for the place is decidedly fabulous.

One enters Grotto by descending a set of stone steps into the basement of an otherwise nondescript apartment building. Inside, one is confronted with a warm and comfortable environment, designed in a sort of Bohemian theme, with plenty of mirrors & artwork (all done by local artists, of course) & swaths of silk hanging from the ceiling & over the windows. The whole place is bathed in red, from the exposed piping to the ambient lighting, but is well-balanced so as to not seem too extravagent or over-the-top. Cute accents, such red daisies at each table and dessert menus wrapped up like scrolls, complete the feel of the place & make one forget they are half underground.

Grotto is open for both lunch and dinner (closing for a few hours between the two) & is a bit expensive, though well worth the price. A full dinner for two, with drinks, generally costs between $80 and a $100, while lunch can range anywhere from $40 to $60. Again, yr humble correspondent cannot stress enough that the experience is well worth the bill, for, in addition to the lovely atmosphere, the food is delicious, unique, prompt in arrival and served in good portions. The cocktails are reasonably priced, and are all masterfully mixed. In addition, one is almost gauranteed a quiet experience, as Grotto is hardly ever busy & is capable of seating only about a two dozen guests.

The service is more-or-less impeccable. Never once has yr humble correspondet had a negative waitstaff experience at Grotto. Everyone is unfailingly polite, readily at beck & call without seeming overbearing & friendly without seeming superficial or forced.

Again, yr humble correspondent cannot recommend Grotto enough & must insist every one of his dear readers take someone special there this spring or summmer. It is a quick jaunt from the Park Street, Bowdoin or Government Center T Stations, making it ideal for an after-work rendevouz or a Friday night date.

Boston Starbucks: The Smallest Starbucks

2005-04-13T09:32:00.000-04:00

Located at 12 Winter Street, in Downtown Crossing, the Smallest Starbucks is, in the opinion of yr humble correspondent, the smallest Starbucks in Boston. It is roughly rectangular in shape & scarcely large enough to accomodate the counter behind which the baristas work, let alone the cream & sugar stations & the two tables that, somehow, have been crammed into the establishment's tiny bay windows.

The Smallest Starbucks, befitting its location in the heart of a retail zone, caters to all types. Tourists are most common during the spring and summer months & in the morning one can usually anticipate a long line of office workers about to start the usual nine-to-five grind. The occasional law student from Suffolk is not unusual, either.

All in all, the Smallest Starbucks would scarcely warrant notice from yr humble correspondent, or from any of my loyal readers, save for the fact that it is the optimal people-watching spot in Downtown Crossing. If one is able to manage a seat in the aforementioned tiny bay windows — which are often occupied — than one should prepare for a full day's worth of hilarity. The sort of people that linger around Downtown Crossing are, it is widely known, not of the most "typical" sort, after all, & observing their "fashion sense" & activities has most effectively killed many of yr humble correspondent's summer afternoons. For this reason, yr humble correspondent gives the Smallest Starbucks an acceptable A-.

Boston Starbucks: The SMS

2005-04-12T09:18:00.000-04:00

We are honored today to have the illustrious Mr D— advance the cause of the Guide to Boston's Starbucks by providing Bostonia with a guest review of one such establishment! A resounding huzzah to Mr D—, what what?

Image: Mr D—
The Strip Mall Starbucks is located, unsurprisingly, in a small strip mall along Somerville Avenue, a few blocks before the Porter Square T station. It shares the space with a laundromat, a dry cleaners, and a cell phone store; there is a Cumberland Farms with concomitant gas pumps just next door. 711 Somerville Avenue is not a location that invites much walk-in traffic.

Accordingly, customers of the SMS can be classified into two groups. There are, first, the morning commuters, who crowd the registers between the hours of 7 and 9 AM. One would be wise to expect a ten minute wait at the SMS in the morning; while the baristas are cheerful and efficient (of which more later), they are still yet only human.

Second, later at night, those who make use of the laundromat's services sometimes stop by for a latte or such. This is hampered to some degree by the relatively early closing hours — while the laundromat is open past midnight, the SMS closes well before 9 PM. Still, even when the inviting door is locked, the wireless connection continues to beam out into the night and into the laundromat next door.

On the weekends, the usually sufficient seating becomes crowded and even full. It is not a spacious Starbucks but it is a comfortable one, with several tables, a pair of easy chairs, and a counter buried deep inside the store. While I object to the positioning of the counter — a Starbucks counter should allow for easy people watching, and this one does no such thing — I have no complaints about the other aspects of the interior. They have done well with the limited space permitted by the location.

The staff is friendly but not too friendly, and they perform with admirable precision. My impression is that most of the baristas have a lengthy tenure at this location, and that their daily tasks have become second nature. Regular customers will be identified, and if you steadily order the same drink, they'll start getting it ready before you're even in the door.

I would grade the SMS as a strong B+.

God Save the King!

2005-04-11T08:58:00.000-04:00

Sincerest apologies, dear readers, for the lack of posting. Yr humble correspondent came down with a bizarre sort of illness last week, and is only just recently recovered (well, mostly recovered).

However, in honor of this past Saturday's marriage between Charles, the Prince of Wales, and Camilla Parker Bowles (now the Duchess of Cornwall), yr humble correspondent would like to direct his readership to this account of the October 18, 1860 visit to Boston by another Prince of Wales (later crowned Edward VII).

Oh, and on a wholly unrelated note: yr humble correspondent returned to work this morning to discover that the EI,CL Starbucks is undergoing extensive remodeling! One must wonder if this has anything to do with yr humble correspondent's writings on the matter.

Doubtful, yes. But a man can dream, can he not?

Found Near Wood Island

2005-04-06T09:52:00.000-04:00

...and they never saw Mr. Johnson again.

Boston Starbucks: The RWS

2005-04-05T22:05:00.000-04:00

Behold, dear readers! The Retail Whore Starbucks!

Located just off the main lobby of the Westin Copley Place, the RWS is little known outside the stark walls of the hotel & its associated mall. Most shoppers & tourists, generally entering the whole Prudential-Sheraton-Copley-Westin-Hynes Convention Center complex from Bolyston Street, get their coffee fix at the Faux Starbucks (which will be covered in a later article, obviously), and thus never stop in at the RWS. Indeed, few people ever make it to the Westin at all — the majority are content to stop shopping at the northern end of the Copley Place Mall, and do not traverse the sky-bridge to the Westin.

Thus it is that the RWS earns it nickname. Frequented not by the shoppers of the nearby mall, it instead draws upon that same mall's many retail employees for business. Oh, granted, it does swift business with the Westin's "guests" as well, but it is not those guests which give the RWS its character. Not by a long shot.

Yr humble correspondent was a regular customer at the RWS back in his days of retail whoredom, when he sold overpriced knick-knacks to the bourgeoisie, & he was not the only Copley employee who did so. The place is often rife with associates from Banana Republic, J. Crew, Neiman Marcus & others, who stood out among the rare tourists & the wanderers by dint of their well-executed, mostly-name-brand attire.

A sense of apathy & disdain always filled the RWS back then & most likely remains to this day. The staff, knowing their dominant customer base, were quiet & unresponsive, perhaps a little resentful. No matter how often one dropped by & no matter how often one ordered the same thing they hardly ever greeted you with more than the standard "HiwhatcanIgetyou?" They knew that we didn't expect anything more; we hated customers, too.

Though most of its customers, having skipped out of the store for a five minute break, do not stick around the RWS, the place is designed for a bit of lounging. At least four comfortable armchairs fill the window area & there are usually two or three little tables situated around the floor. The tables are not particularly good places to relax, since the RWS is usually quite busy (especially on weekends) & people tend to bump into one another, clustering as they do around the "bar" awaiting their drinks. Yet if one can get an armchair in the window, the RWS can be an enjoyable experience — if nothing else, it's an excellent place for people-watching.

(At the suggestion of Ms. B—, who is not Mr. B—, I will commence giving letter grades to the various Boston Starbucks, beginning with this entry. Excellent suggestion, Ms. B—!)

Grade: B (if you're not a retail whore), or B+ (if you are or were)

Boston Starbucks: The EI,CL Starbucks

2005-03-31T09:38:00.000-05:00

At the opposite end of Cambridge Street from the Over-Friendly, Gay Starbucks is the Extremely Inconvenient, Conveniently Located Starbucks, also known as the Triangular Starbucks owing to its shape. The EI,CL Starbucks is located at the corner of Court & Cambridge Streets, at a site of some fame, for not only is it built adjacent to the Sears Crescent Building & on the former grounds of old Scollay Square, but it is also situated underneath the steaming tea-kettle. What's more, the EI,CL Starbucks can be found mere steps away from the site of Dwight Moody's rebirth as a Christian!

Ironically, it is because of this illustrious location that the EI,CL Starbucks earns it admittedly peculiar sobriquet. You see, dear readers, the EI,CL Starbucks is extremely inconvenient because, while being the Starbucks nearest to yr humble correspondent's place of employment, it is also a good five minute walk away, which simply does not do on cold winter mornings. Of course, yr humble correspondent could get off the Government Center Green Line Station in the morning on his way to work & from there simply bop in, grab his latte & and head into the office some half-mile away — & trust me dear readers, he would, if it were not for the fact that the EI,CL Starbucks is also inconveniently busy.

The EI,CL Starbucks is always, indeed invariably, busy during those hours of the day during which it would be most convenient for yr humble correspondent to obtain his much-needed lattes.

8:50 a.m., on the walk into work? Busy. Line out the door busy.

1:50 p.m., after lunch? Busy & crowded with people sitting along the window-facing bar.

5:05 p.m., on the way home from work? Busy, in addition to the fact that yr humble correspondent would have to walk all the way down Cambridge Street simply to get there.

Thus it is that the only times yr humble correspondent goes to the EI,CL Starbucks is between 10 a.m. & Noon, when the line is usually much-diminished & he can obtain his latte in under ten minutes. This necessitates going into work, settling into the morning routine, then getting up & leaving again to walk down Cambridge Street, however.

Obviously, this then begs the question as to why the EI,CL Starbucks earns the Conveniently Located portion of its nickname & the answer to that question, dear readers, is this: the EI,CL Starbucks is convenient for almost everyone else in the Cambridge Street, Government Center and Court Street area. These lucky souls need only walk a few yards to obtain their drinks, and so it is that the EI,CL Starbucks is extremely convenient for them. But their convenience translates into inconvenience — nay, extreme inconvenience — for yr humble correspondent.

Still & all, the EI,CL Starbucks is not a particularly bad Starbucks. The staff tends to be friendly enough & are prompt with the drinks (though they have, on occasion, forgotten yr humble correspondent's latte, thereby increasing his wait & solidifying their inconvenient reputation). Note also that the EI,CL Starbucks is not a lounging Starbucks by any stretch of the imagination. There is almost no seating in the establishment, owing to the small size & awkward shape, save for a bar which runs along the Government Center-facing windows (which does make for good people-watching, if one is lucky enough to get a seat). Indeed, the EI,CL Starbucks is a "wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am" Starbucks: one goes in, orders, obtains drinks & perhaps food & then leaves. It is unsurprising, therefore, that the clientele tends to consist entirely of business people & tourists, who are simply getting their morning caffeine before heading elsewhere.

A Guide to Boston's Starbucks

2005-03-28T10:45:00.000-05:00

A while ago, Mr B—, of Wellington Street, the South End, proposed that a guide to the Starbucks of Boston be published. Now, in the event that my loyal readers are unaware of their humble correspondent's love for Starbucks, allow this post to serve as notification of that fact. Yr humble correspondent is indeed a most loyal fan of that august corporate giant, thus he would truly welcome such a guide.

Sadly, however, Mr B— is a notoriously busy Gentleman & he, as noted in his original proposal, most likely will never find time enough to write such a guide. So & all, this task falls upon the shoulders of yr humble correspondent, who will, for the weeks to come, be providing reviews & descriptions for the many Starbucks locations in our fair city.

We begin, then, in Boston's West End, at 222 Cambridge Street.

This, my dear readers, is the Overly-Friendly, Gay Starbucks, as yr humble correspondent calls it. It is located near to the Charles Street / Massachusetts General Hospital Red Line station, & is rather unobtrusively placed on the first floor of a nineteenth-century apartment house.

The O-FGS, to use a handy acronym, is one of Boston's rare "U-shaped" Starbucks, in that it's design accomodates the stairway used by tenants to access the upper floors. One enters the O-FGS on the left-hand side, at the corner of Cambridge & Irving Streets & exits through the right-hand side, back on Cambridge Street, effectively circulating in an upside-down "U."

Due to its small size & unusual shape, the O-FGS is not considered a "lounging" Starbucks, where one goes to sip coffee with friends, read a book & so forth. Granted, some people do engage in such activities at the O-FGS, but they are rare & are more frequently found at the Greater Charles Street Starbucks (a post about which is to follow). During the day, customers are generally employees of Massachusetts General Hospital (doctors in their full "scrubs" are not rare sights), with the occasional student from nearby Suffolk University. On the weekends & after standard business hours, the number of students increases, as does the number of Beacon Hill residents.

Yr humble correspondent refers to the O-FGS as such owing to its staff, which is, as the name suggests, gregarious to an occasionally off-setting degree & possessing of a fair number of homosexuals (or, if not, than individuals who play into the stereotype well enough to fool yr correspondent). Their friendliness, beyond the usual banter and good cheer exhibited to most customers, extends to an unusual practice which yr humble correspondent has encountered only th ere. To wit, the staff of the O-FGS frequently asks its customers "Questions of the Day," which range from "What hospital were you born in?" to "What was the name of the person you took to prom?" Strange, but intriguing — yr humble correspondent has certainly learned some interesting facts about his fellow customers in this manner.

Yet even on those days which lack the Question, yr humble correspondent has found the staff to be quite talkative; certainly, they are more talkative and social than the average Starbucks barrista. They joke with their customers over any little thing, and are quick to rib their own corporate practices or the complex beverage orders of others. Truthfully speaking, they are both fun & entertaining, so do not think, dear readers, that yr humble correspondent disapproves of their attitude. Only at first are their jovial banter & eager smiles slightly unnerving, especially on those bitter winter mornings when yr humble correspondent is not entirely happy to be alive. Thereafter, expectant & prepared, the employees at the O-FGS can be a charmingly refreshing encounter.

Riding Ever From Boston

2005-03-23T11:32:00.000-05:00

The last time Rugg spoke to me he inquired how far it was to Boston. I told him just one hundred miles.

'Why,' said he, 'how can you deceive me so? It is cruel to mislead a traveller. I have lost my way; pray direct me the nearest way to Boston.'

I repeated, it was one hundred miles.

'How can you say so?' said he. 'I was told last evening it was but fifty, and I have travelled all night.'

'But,' said I, 'you are now travelling from Boston. You must turn back.'

'Alas,' said he, 'it is all turn back! Boston shifts with the wind, and plays all around the compass. One man tells me it is to the east, another to the west; and the guide-posts too, they all point the wrong way.'

If, dear readers, you have not heard the legend of Peter Rugg — the Missing Man in search of Boston, riding always before a storm — than do yourself the service of reading his account over at Gaslight. 'Tis truly one of Boston's most intriguing tales, though it is scarcely remembered by most of our fair city's inhabitants these days.

Exiled to Longwood

2005-03-21T20:40:00.000-05:00

Interesting tidbit, dear readers: the Longwood area of Brookline was once the estate of a certain David Sears, who named it for Napoleon's home on St. Helena.

Of course, this begs the question as to why anyone would name a property after a place of exile.

Take THAT Calgary!

2005-03-17T15:33:00.000-05:00

Emporis, the database on buildings and real-estate, has ranked Boston as possessing the world's 43rd most impressive skyline. Topping off the list was Hong Kong, New York, Seoul, Chicago & Singapore, with Cleveland, Edmonton, San Diego, Tulsa & Mandaluyong coming in at the bottom.

Montréal came in 42nd, beating Boston out by a scant 10 points (the rankings were determined based on a point system that is explained at the top of the list). Watch out, you Québécois! We're coming for you!

Christ in Holton's Shoe Store

2005-03-16T09:18:00.000-05:00

It never ceases to amaze yr humble correspondent what odd bits of history one stumbles upon while strolling the streets of Boston. Take, for instance, this plaque, which yr humble correspondent found along Court Street this morning:

Who was D. L. Moody, I hear my loyal readers ask? Why, none other than Dwight L. Moody — one of the great evangelists of the nineteenth century & the founder of the Moody Bible Institute, Moody Publishers, the Mount Hermon School & the Moody Church of Northfield. By the time of his death in 1899, it was said that he had won a million souls over to Christ.

Copious information about the life & times of Mr Moody can be found on-line, although yr humble correspondent is primarily concerned with the plaque on Court Street and the seemingly bizarre incident of the shoe store conversion.

Apparently the story goes that, while Moody was working at his uncle's shop one day, his Sunday school teacher (one Mr Edward Kimball) resolved to "speak to him about Christ & about his soul." He entered the shop & found Moody in back wrapping up shoes for delivery. Placing his hand's on the boy's shoulders, Kimball "told him of Christ's love for him & the love Christ wanted in return." Mr Kimball himself admitted that, afterwards, he though his message "very weak" — though apparently it did not matter, for from that moment onward Moody was a changed man. He relates how on the morning after his awakening he came out of his room to find that the "sun shone a good deal brighter than it ever had before — I thought that it was just smiling upon me; & as I walked out on Boston Common & heard the birds singing in the trees, I thought they were all singing a song to me." He was now, as one source put it, "running over with zeal & love for the Master."

Walking Along Old Byways

2005-03-15T10:38:00.000-05:00

Image: Boston Byways & Highways
Kellscraft continues to amaze with its on-line collection of rare, old books, which it offers to the public free of charge. Yr humble correspondent's latest find at that august archive is Boston: Its Byways & Highways, by John Albert Seaford, published circa 1914. The text itself is of no particular historical significance, merely summarizing the histories of various famous buildings and neighborhoods, but the sketches are of superb quality (as evidenced by the one posted above).

For the artwork alone, yr humble correspondent heartily recommends Mr Seaford's work.

Freezing for Omelettes

2005-03-09T09:08:00.000-05:00

Yr humble correspondent spends a good deal of time in and around Somerville's Ball Square, where his boyfriend resides. It is a generally charming little half-block, lined with quaint, Main Street-style stores — a bakery, a wine store, a coffee house, a diner, a cafe, et cetera.

It's the cafe yr humble correspondent wishes to discuss; specifically, the cafe called Sound Bites.

This is the line outside of Sound Bites on a typical Sunday, and a cold one at that. On any given day of the week, this line is present. Granted, the line is not always as long as evidenced in the photographs, but it is there nonetheless — four or five people, or two or three groups, standing outside, waiting for breakfast or brunch. Regardless of whether it a work day, weekday, holiday, there they are.

Now, yr humble correspondent is sure that Sound Bites has a fantastic and delicious menu. However, one must wonder how fantastic and delicious any menu can be to warrant standing outside, in the cold of a New England winter, for what is surely at least a half-hour. What are in those omelettes that makes people wait outside, freezing in the wind, sipping quickly-cooling coffee? Especially when there is a diner up the block and another cafe across the street?

Yr humble correspondent recalls a particular day, not too many weeks ago, when a snow storm of fairly sizeable porportions hit the area, dumping some four to six inches of snow. Heading down to Ball Square for coffee and breakfast, yr humble correspondent remarked to his companions that there was no conceivable way that Sound Bites would have a line outside its doors on a day like that day, with no sunlight, a biting wind and snow piled everywhere. Indeed, many of the sidewalks had not yet been shoveled!

But, lo, there it was, visible even from a distance — a sizeable line standing outside, in the snow, waiting to get inside for brunch. Baffling. Clearly, their brunch must be of divine nature, although yr humble correspondent has no idea because he refuses to stand in line, outside, simply to get brunch.

Why, I am sure my dear readers are asking, does our humble correspondent bring this issue up? Simply because, sirs and ladies, the weather outside is godawful, and yr humble correspondent is quite sure that there is a line outside Sound Bites at this very moment.

Klaus Comes to Cambridge

2005-03-08T10:03:00.000-05:00

If, dear readers, you are to see but one documentary about an utterly avante-garde German New Wave vocalist with an operatic background who rocked Manhattan's underground music scene during the early '80s, then please do go see The Nomi Song. It is currently playing at the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge, but only through March 10, so purchase tickets now.

The Buyer of Bad Memories

2005-03-03T09:37:00.000-05:00

It would seem that Lacuna Inc. does not have the market cornered in memory-removal. Of course, yr humble correspondent must question the legitimacy of any business that locates itself in Chelsea, & wonders what individual would wish to collect bad memories.

Boston on the Silver Screen

2005-03-02T14:23:00.000-05:00

Yr humble correspondent would to like to thank the entirely exceptional Mr D— for pointing out the "First Films of the City (1901 - 1905)" collection over at the Boston Public Library. These little movie-ettes are available for viewing on-line — ah, will the wonders of the Internet ever cease? — & any lover of Bostonia ought really to check them out. Yr humble correspondent's favorite is "Seeing Boston," a six-minute trolley tour that takes one on a "whirlwind ride through the busy streets of downtown Boston past Jordan Marsh and along Boylston Street to Copley Square passing by the Boston Public Library."

Mr D— has, once again, earned my undying gratitude.

You Can't Get There From Here

2005-03-01T11:17:00.000-05:00

Loyal readers interested in dead streets ought to read Mr B—'s explanation as to why Boston lacks a Front Street.

(Though it would seem that the dear Mr B—'s finding were not entirely accurate; scholars, academicians & the like should consult Mr C—'s comment on the aforementioned post.)

Lazy Map-Makers

2005-03-01T10:35:00.000-05:00

By 1617, European-borne disease had reduced the Native American population of Massachusetts Bay from three thousand to around five hundred. Although the situation was everywhere devastating, it was particularly horrific on the peninsula that would one day be known as Dorchester Point (or Dorchester Neck, or Dorchester Heights, depending upon what eighteenth-century map one consults), & in 1804 would be annexed as "South Boston." There, disease was so rampant that surviving tribe members were forced to leave their dead unburied, in piles & in mounds. They took to calling the place "Mattapannock," roughly translated to mean "the place where evil is spread about."

Decades later, English cartographers found themselves in need of a name for the southern-most region of Dorchester. After what was undoubtedly not much consideration, they opted to use the original "Indian" name, but only in part. Mattapannock was such an awfully long word, after all. So, Mattapannock became — well, what else? — "Mattapan." It would, along with Dorchester, be annexed by Boston in 1870.

I am Remiss

2005-02-28T09:40:00.000-05:00

Yr humble correspondent delivers his most sincere apologies for the lack of activity over this past week. Recent matters various and sundry have eaten up a great deal of yr humble correspondent's time & alas this endeavor has been put on the preverbal back-burner.

Again, apologies. Regular posting will resume, with any luck, this week.

The Long Election

2005-02-21T18:58:00.000-05:00

Care for a quirky tale of politics, dear readers?

February 1845 found Boston still lacking a mayor; the city had, by then, witnessed seven "failed" elections, each yielding no clear winner. When the old mayor, Martin Brimmer, stepped down from office on January 6, the Board of Aldermen and the Common Council found themselves obliged to govern in his place, which they did until February 21 when an eighth special election resulted, finally, in a victorous candidate. This candidate was Thomas Davis.

Davis was a member of the "Native American Party," which unsurprisingly had nothing to do with the Amerindians and was itself a precursor to the "Know-Nothings." His margin of victory had been slim, amounting to some 1,500 votes, but this was deemed sufficient given the circumstances, and Davis was inaugurated on February 27.

Yet Davis fell gravely ill just seven months later, and was forced to resign his position on October 6. His death came on November 22, which gave cause for another election — the ninth in less than a year. This one was held on December 8, and it brought victory to one Josiah Quincy, Jr, a Whig and the son of that other, more famous Quincy (no, not that one; the other one). His term in office was fairly uneventful, marked primarily by his efforts to bring clean reservoir water to Boston, but hey, at least he saw it out.

Mindless Plugging

2005-02-18T15:59:00.000-05:00

Yr humble correspondent would be greatly remiss if he did not instruct his loyal readers to get off the Freedom Trail & visit MetaBoston. It has not been updated in some time, but is still quite full of interesting and unique Boston-related information.

The Last Censor

2005-02-15T13:01:00.000-05:00

Richard Sinnott
Image: Curry Magazine
From 1955 until 1982, Richard Sinnott possessed the authority to ban in Boston any obscene or indecent books, plays, magazines, movies & concerts. He died two years ago, on April 30, & during his lengthy career he was responsible for forcing changes to Edward Albee's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" & prohibiting the music of Marvin Gaye & The Jackson Five from distribution in our fair city.

Further reading on the life of Boston's last censor can be found over at Boston Magazine. Similarly, yr humble correspondent should note that townhall.com also did a write-up about the man, though he is loathe to reference his dear readers to such a conservative rag.

Arrr, Me Hearties!

2005-02-10T14:25:00.000-05:00

Rachel Wall, nee Schmidt, was born on a farm in Pennsylvania, just outside Carlisle, in or about the year 1760. As a teenager, Rachel is said to have disliked living in the country, & whether this is true or not the fact remains that, when afforded the opportunity to run away during a trip to Harrisburg, she took it.

To a country girl Harrisburg must have seemed quite the metropolis, though if she did indeed abandon her parents while there she presumably would have been homeless & destitute. Perhaps that is why she became a regular visitor to the city's dockyards, where, at the age of sixteen, she met George Wall — a sailor & former privateer who she soon married.

The couple left Harrisburg for Boston shortly after exchanging vows. Rachel took work as a maid once there (one source claims her employment was on Beacon Hill, which is unlikely, though not impossible, as there were few houses on the Hill at the time), while George obtained a position on a fishing schooner.

In 1781, Rachel & George began their careers as pirates, though accounts differ as to how this came about. Some claim that George's schooner began engaging in piracy & that he lured Rachel to join in on the action after one particularly successful raid. Others assert that George & a few of his fellow sailors decided one night to go into piracy themselves, using one of their schooners, & that George talked Rachel into accompanying them. Still others tell the story that George & Rachel, along with some of his buddies, got rousingly drunk one night aboard a friends boat &, on a whim, took the sea in search of easy pickings.

Regardless of the circumstances, Mr & Mrs Wall, along with their associates, began engaging in piracy in what was, at the time, a unique fashion. During normal weather the crew would engage in fishing, but following a storm or during inclimate weather they would put out a distress signal in hopes of luring a passing ship towards their location. If one happened to arrive, Rachel would to lull the aiding ship's crew into a false sense of security by standing on deck & screaming for help. Once the ship had pulled up alongside the schooner, George & his men would board it, kill the crew & steal anything of value. They would then sink the aiding ship, & blame its disappearance on that day's poor weather.

For about a year the Walls & their men terrorized the waters around the Isle of Shoals, just off the coast of New Hampshire & Maine. In that time they allegedly captured a dozen ships & murdered twice as many sailors.

Success was short-lived, however, for in September 1782 a storm battered the Walls' ship & broke the main mast. George was lost overboard, along with most of his men, which left, it is said, only Rachel alive. Somehow she was rescued & brought back to Boston, where, as a widow with a secretly criminal past, she managed to resume her employment as a maid.

Yet by then thievery was in Rachel's blood, & at night she would sneak down to the Waterfront & board docked ships, there to take whatever valuables she could secret away. For seven years she kept up this activity, apparently undetected, until one night in 1789 she accosted a woman (attempting to steal her bonnet, as one source claims), & was apprehended. She admitted to being a former pirate during the trial that ensued, though claimed she never murdered anyone (unlike her husband & his associates). Her pleas fell on deaf ears, however, & Rachel was not only found guilty but sentenced to death by hanging. Her sentence was carried out on October 8, 1789, on Boston Common, giving her the distinction — & not Bathsheba Spooner — of being the last woman in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to be executed in such a fashion.

Rebel scum

2005-02-09T10:22:00.000-05:00

Dear readers, take note that on this date in 1775, Parliament declared Massachusetts to be in a state of rebellion. Accordingly, they authorized General Thomas Gage, who had already replaced the civilian governor Thomas Hutchinson as the Crown's representative, to use such force as he deemed necessary to maintain English sovereignty over the colony.

Plug!

2005-02-09T10:13:00.000-05:00

Bostonia is, obviously, not the only blog devoted to the history, legends, lore and culture of this fair city (my, that is an awful lot of topics, isn't it?). Indeed, the charmingly-named City Record and Boston News-Letter is an old hat at this, and is filled with all sorts of interesting essays, tidbits and links. Do, dear readers, check it out sometime.

Old age ain't no place for sissies

2005-02-08T09:50:00.000-05:00

At a width of only 9 feet, 200 ½ Montgomery Street of Baltimore may trump Boston's narrow house at 44 Hull Street. Yet I hear my loyal readers harken their humble correspondent to the defense of our town. Surely, I hear them say, we will not be bested by Charm City. Surely, their words falling upon my ears, St. Botolph can outdo Cæcilius Calvert in another regard.

To which yr humble correspondent says, Yes, dear readers. Yes we can — for Boston has age, and the age of our structures will surely top those found in the city of (Lord) Baltimore.

Image: North End Boston
Three of the oldest houses in the United States can be found in Boston, as can the oldest public building and the oldest continuously-operated restaurant. The Parker House makes the same claim, being the nation's oldest hotel, and one that played host to presidents, assassins, revolutionaries, inventors and authors.

Yr humble correspondent has already remarked upon the city's oldest set of stairs, but has neglected to point thirsty readers to the city's oldest tavern. The Bunker Hill Monument predates the Washington Monument by quite a few years, making it, yr humble correspondent believes, the oldest major obelisk to be constructed in this country.

Boston is also home to a number of other "oldests," which are, granted, not buildings, but are still deserving of recognition. There's the oldest professional organization of chefs, the oldest geneaological and historical societies, the oldest public park, and quite a few of the oldest cemeteries. Berthed in Boston Harbor is the oldest still-commissioned vessel in the United States Navy, the USS Constitution, and let us not forget that the nation's oldest recorded living man is a Red Sox fan.

As a city known for its institute of learning, my dear readers should know that Boston Latin is the oldest public school in the United States, opened in 1635, followed close-on-the-heels by Roxbury Latin, established ten years later. Our city's Athenaeum hosts one of the oldest independent libraries, and the nation's oldest public library is located in Back Bay.

(Oh, and then there's Harvard, the nation's oldest college.)

Prince Albert will supply that satisfaction

2005-02-04T09:44:00.000-05:00

Truly, dear readers, the Internet is the repository of all human knowledge.

Boston, 1916 is a weblog devoted to the articles, advertisements and images found in Boston-area newspapers in the year 1916. It has not been updated in over a month, but still contains quite a bit of interesting material. Certainly worth a casual perusal.

Forget me not

2005-02-03T11:59:00.000-05:00

Forgotten Boston is a neat little side-project, complete with photographs, run by the same gentleman who maintains Forgotten New York — itself a fabulous devotion to urban exploration. Wise readers? Do yourself a favor and browse through both in your spare time.

Not for the claustrophobic

2005-02-01T13:33:00.000-05:00

Image: Odd New England
This is 44 Hull Street, the narrowest house in Boston. It measures just 10.5 feet in width and 36 feet in length, with ceilings standing only 6 feet, 4 inches high and an entrance that leads into an alleyway because the street-facing wall is too slim for a door.

Folklore has it that the house was built in the eighteenth century by gentleman who, upon returning from a trip abroad, discovered that his brother had occupied almost all of the property left to them both by their parents by constructing a large house. In retaliation, he built his house on the narrow amount of land that was left unused, thus blocking his sibling's view and just generally causing a nuisance.

Meet me at the club, old sport

2005-01-31T15:04:00.000-05:00

"At the Somerset," St. Botolph members have long chuckled, "they have the money; at the Union, they manage it; at the Algonquin, they’re trying to make it; and at the St. Botolph, they enjoy it."

The on-line edition of the Harvard Crimson provides this excellent article on the history of Boston's "clubs" — those establishments where the right sort of gentlemen could, in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, go to drink, smoke, dine and socialize with their peers. It is fascinating to read that most of these century-old institutions are still in existence, and even more fascinating to read their associated lore and traditions.

And just when you thought all things Victorian were dead and buried, what?

Cold enough for ya?

2005-01-27T14:56:00.000-05:00

Image: Digital Snow Museum
The modern benchmark for New England snowstorms is, of course, the Blizzard of 1978, which paralyzed the region and was responsible for 17 deaths. Previously this distinction was held by the Blizzard of 1888, during which some 400 people died, 200 ships were grounded and $25 million in property damage was done.

Yet for over a century prior to that, New England's most famous blizzard was the Great Snow of 1717.

Beginning on February 27 and ending on March 7, the Great Snow consisted of four successive blizzards, occuring almost without interruption. Conditions over the span of that week were such that, as one colonist described,

"...scores of [cattle and sheep] were buried and then of course they froze to death before help could reach them. In the spring some of the cattle were found standing erect, frozen solidly in their tracks. In other places the sheep had huddled together for mutual warmth and had succumbed in that way."

In Boston, snow accumulation reached four feet, with 25 foot drifts that covered entire houses. Families burnt furniture for heat, since they were unable to get outside for firewood, and roofs collapsed under the weight. Cotton Mather, in a letter to the Royal Society, reported the storm to be "so violent as to make all communication between Ye Neighbors every where to cease." Deers, meanwhile, found themselves unable to run in the deep snow, and thus fell as easy prey to packs of wolves — which fast depleted the nearby forests, and were subsequently forced to raid Boston's outlying farms for sustenance.

It took weeks for the Bostonians to dig themselves out of their homes once the storm had passed. Indeed, Mather's congregation was not able to attend mass for two weeks, which, given the piety of the early Puritan settlers, is quite remarkable. Postal riders were likewise prevented from carrying out their routes, thus effectively cutting off all communication between the city and its neighboring settlements. The snow from the blizzard lasted until April, when, as it melted, it muddied roads and fields, making travel both difficult and exceedingly messy.

So, my dear readers of Boston and environs, if you think this particular week has been bad...

Dancing in the streets

2005-01-26T18:54:00.000-05:00

There is more to Boston than dusty history and crooked streets. Fueled by three music colleges and numerous universities, our charming city is also home to a vibrant music scene, which Boston Rocks Live does a most admirable job of tracking, dear readers.

Narrow and crooked streets

2005-01-24T08:33:00.000-05:00

For out-of-towners who have not mastered Boston's labyrinthine system of roads, your humble correspondent recommends this funny yet informative article on the subject.

I demand satisfaction!

2005-01-20T10:20:00.000-05:00

Boston's most famous duel was fought by one Henry Phillips — a studious and quiet young man, and the second son of a successful publisher named Samuel Phillips. He had graduated from Harvard College in 1724, at the age of twenty, and immediately thereafter had joined his brother Gillam in the family's book business.

Despite his supposedly meak demeanor, Phillips was known to frequent Luke Vardy's Royal Exchange Tavern, itself opened in 1726 on the corner of King Street and Exchange Place. Today that site is occupied by the mammoth Exchange Place skyscraper, but in Phillips' day it was a rough-and-tumble establishment, widely known as a place of gambling and vice.

On the evening of July 2, 1728, Phillips further proved the Tavern's reputation by engaging Benjamin Woodbridge, the son of an admiralty judge, in an altercation. The nature and cause of their argument is lost to history, though folklore says they were bickering over a woman with whom they were both in love.

Regardless, the two gentlemen agreed to duel over the matter. So, after dusk on the following day, both Phillips and his opponent — unaccompanied and bearing swords — met at the far end of the Common, near the Frog Pond. In the ensuing melee, Phillips was wounded in his stomach and slashed across the hands, but attained victory after he felled Woodbridge with a fatal stab to the chest. Phillips then fled the scene, stopping only to notify an in-town surgeon as to the whereabouts of Woodbridge's body before heading to his brother's shop for sanctuary. There his injuries were dressed by Gillam and certain friends, who then smuggled Phillips aboard a ship which was about to sail for London.

Phillips arrived in London some months later, where he was taken in by Gillam's brother-in-law, Peter Faneuil (yes, that Peter Faneuil). Fearing that he would be extradited back to Massachusetts, however, he quickly arranged passage to the French city of La Rochelle.

Yet Woodbridge's death bore heavily on Phillips' soul; he escaped justice, but he could not escape a guilty conscience. Within weeks of arriving in France, Phillips lapsed into a deep depression, and from there into illness and ultimately death. He did not leave a will, and so for the next ten years his brother fought numerous legal battles in order to inherit the young Phillips' substantial estate, which under colonial law was supposed to fall to his mother and sister. A decade of contestation came to naught for Gillam, however — he had assumed himself a rich man with the demise of his sibling, but the courts awarded the estate to its statutory heirs, and rejected all of Gillam's numerous appeals.

My ol' banjo

2005-01-18T15:16:00.000-05:00

Did you knows, dear readers, that the first banjos in the United States were manufactured in Boston?

Art Deco Boston

2005-01-17T04:00:00.000-05:00

Widely known for its bow-front townhouses and cobblestone streets, Boston is not a city that one typically associates with Art Deco. In large part this is due to the economic circumstances of the decades that surrounded the movement, for while the years following the Great War were boom times elsewhere, in Boston they were ones of stagnation and decline. By the time Art Deco reached the height of its popularity, Boston, as Jane Holtz Kay describes, "was idling in the economic slough of Depression...her mills in decline, her port slipping, her financiers cautious." It was a city that "lived on past glories...not great expectations."

Yet scattered throughout Downtown, one can spot a handful of buildings designed in the Art Deco style. They are rare, yes, and are often ignored by both tourists and historians, whose interests typically do not extend beyond the Revolution. But they do exist, and your humble correspondent hopes that this quick guide to Art Deco Boston will open his dear reader's eyes to this hidden and overlooked aspect of our city.

First is the Wyndham Hotel, formerly known as the Batterymarch Building. Located at 89 Broad Street, it was designed by Harold Field Kellogg, and was the tallest building in Boston when it opened in 1928. Like most Art Deco designs, the Wyndham is a rather plain-looking affair except for the entrances and first floor, which are highly stylized and embellished. What makes this building unique from other such examples of the style in Boston, however, are the three "towers," shown above, that dominate the side facing Batterymarch Street — where the building's main entrance was located until its restoration by David Manfredi.

75 Franklin Street, seen above,was completed in 1929, having been designed by Thomas M. James. For a time this building served as the headquarters for State Street Bank; today its 21 floors house individual offices for many private businesses. At the very bottom of the photograph, where the first and second floor of the building meet, one will note a series of bronze panels running the length of the building. These are original bas-reliefs that were restored in 1997, depicting — in addition to many muscular and semi-nude men — industry, agriculture, finance, art and other such testaments to human achievement.

Paid for by Paramount Studios and designed by Arthur Bowditch, the eponymous Paramount Theater was opened in 1932 as a place to show "talkie" films. Although it has been closed for decades, the Paramount still represents an era when Washington Street was a vibrant, party-all-night district of jazz clubs and vaudeville acts, and is accordingly both a prominent fixture of Downtown Boston and a National Historic Landmark.

Until 2002, the Paramount was in a horrid state of disrepair, as can easily be seen in the photograph below. Its marble facade was crumbling and stained, its sign entirely burnt out, and the once-grand interior torn to pieces owing to asbestos removal. It was only due to pressure from the hyper-prestigious Ritz Carlton Towers, located across the street from the Paramount and only recently opened, that prompted the restoration of its facade and roof. For the time being the interior remains desolate, though there are plans afoot to have it entirely renovated and re-opened.

Image: Historic Boston

Plans for the "new" Suffolk County Courthouse, located at Pemberton Square behind Cambridge Street, were initiated as early as 1928, it having long been known that the old Suffolk County Courthouse — today known as the John Adams Courthouse — provided insufficient space for both the city and county's judicial needs. The Great Depression stalled construction of the new building, however, and it was only through the intervention of the federal government in 1936 that real work on the Courthouse finally get underway. Yet even then it would take another three years for the new Art Deco tower to be completed and officially opened.

Long considered but one of many hideous buildings that fill the West End and Government Center, the new Suffolk County Courthouse is actually a rather interesting and attractive structure. It contains especially interesting architectural minutae, such as the granite Zodiac signs that surround the level between the first and second floor, and the beautiful bas-relief that looms over the main entrance.

Those aspects of the Courthouse that today seem unappealing are largely resultant of neglect and laziness. Witness, for example, the dozens of air conditioners that fill its column-like windows; a lackluster solution to the question of temperature control that interrupts and ultimately ruins the building's Art Deco design. Fortunately, the new Courthouse is undergoing renovation along with its sister-courthouse and Pemberton Square as a whole. The air conditioning units are being removed, the interior wholly redesigned with modern amnenities, and the facade restored to its original appearance.

Image: Smart Growth
The New England Telephone and Telegraph Company Building, now owned by Verizon, serves as a particularly late example of Art Deco design in the United States. Constructed in 1947, it is unclear as to why such an outdated and unfashionable mode of architecture was employed by the firm of Cram and Ferguson in designing the building. Still, it is an interesting structure that vaguely resembles a step-pyramid or Mayan temple, the lobby of which contains a 160-foot tall mural bearing scenes from the history of the telephone.

Thus it would seem that, after decades of neglect, the Art Deco buildings of Boston are getting a necessary facelift. Indeed, of all the examples given above, only the Paramount Theater remains vacant and unused, and even that charming structure seems to have a bright future in store. This movement toward preservation and reuse is undoubtedly an excellent thing for the city, serving to enrich it for the generations that are to come, and that may wish to view first-hand the works of their grandparents.

[Please note, dear readers, that many of the photographs shown here were taken by your humble correspondent; those that were not were given proper credit. Your humble correspondent would also like to extend a heatfelt thank you to his two stalwart and capable assistants, Tony Z. and Bill B., without whose companionship and aid this project would undoubtedly have been much less fun. Gentlemen, thank you both for your time and energy.]

Cannons on Washington Street

2005-01-14T11:55:00.000-05:00

For the first two centuries of its history, Boston's only connection to the mainland was a particularly narrow isthmus of tidal flats. During high tides or stormy weather, this narrow link — referred to as "the Neck" — would sink below the waves, and thus it was that Boston would occasionally cease to be a peninsular settlement, and instead become an island-city.

In 1631, one year after founding the city, Boston's colonists fortified the Neck at its narrowest point in order to help guard against anticipated raids by Native Americans. Presumably little more than wooden stockades, the first fortifications stood until 1714, at which time they were replaced with simple earthen and brick walls, as depicted in the John Bonner Map of 1722:

John Bonner Map, 1722
Image: Mapping Boston
Just outside these walls, and in true European fashion, Boston hung its criminals in cages and from gallows, their corpses serving as a warning to others. Suicides and deceased vagrants were similarly dumped beyond the walls, as Esther Forbes describes in her book Paul Revere and the World He Lived In, both being considered unfit for burial in one of Boston's already heavily-populated graveyards.

General Thomas Gage, who commanded the British "occupation" of Boston, greatly improved upon the Neck's fortifications in 1774 and 1775, fearing an all-out assault by the rebellious colonists who controlled the countryside. Yet his elaborate plans and additions were of little help when the Continental Army, under General George Washington, assumed control of nearby Dorchester Heights and threatened to bombard the city lest the British evacuate — which they did on March 17, 1776.

Plan of the Neck and Fortifications; Delivd. to H.E. Gl. Gage, June 30th. 1775
Image: American Memory: The American Revolution and Its Era
Traces of the the Neck's fortifications remained until the 1820s, when they were wholly removed in preparation for land-making in the South End. Particularly curious readers may still visit the site of Boston's walls, however, by going to the corner of East Berkeley and Washington Streets, near Peter's Park.

Hyperanalysis of six square blocks

2005-01-13T13:21:00.000-05:00

The 2004 Student Projects section of the this website is simply amazing. Students select particular neighborhoods or sections of Boston, and then exhaustively study its history, architecture and development over the past three centuries — complete with maps and photographs! My dear readers, this site is an absolute must-see.

Stairs leading nowhere

2005-01-13T09:42:00.000-05:00

Image: Rambles Around Old Boston
These worn granite steps join Province to Bosworth Street, and as both avenues are generally inconsequential and lightly trafficked, they tend to attract little interest or attention. Yet once, long ago, they served as the entrance to the Province House courtyard and stables, and are, arguably, the oldest set of stairs in Boston.

Originally constructed by a wealthy merchant named Peter Sargeant in 1679, the Province House was, as Walter Muir Whitehall describes,

"...a high-shouldered building of brick, laid in English bond, with a high attic lighted by dormers, and an octagonal cupola surmounted by Shem Drowne's Indian archer weathervane, which is now, like the royal arms that hung over the front entrance, in the Museum of the Massachusetts Historical Society."

In all it resembled nothing so much as the country manor of some English squire, surrounded by "spacious grounds" into which the granite stairs led.

Sargeant held onto the property until 1716, when it became the official residence of the colony's royal governors, prompting the street onto which the stairs led to be named Governor's Alley. It was only following the Revolution that the Alley's name was changed to that which it bears today, the victors having decided that no remnant of English "tyranny" should sully the maps and signposts of their newly-free city. Thus it was that King, Queen and Marlborough Streets were also wiped from existence, to be replaced with State, Court and Washington — names that better reflected the fledgling nation's republican ideals.

Many decades thereafter, during the first half of the nineteenth century, Nathaniel Hawthorne set four short stories at the House, describing it in the first of these as,

"...three stories high, and surmounted by a cupola, on the top of which a gilded Indian was discernible, with his bow bent and his arrow on the string, as if aiming at the weathercock on the spire of the Old South. The figure has kept this attitude for seventy years or more, ever since good Deacon Drowne, a cunning carver of wood, first stationed him on his long sentinel's watch over the city.

The Province House is constructed of brick, which seems recently to have been overlaid with a coat of light-colored paint. A flight of red freestone steps, fenced in by a balustrade of curiously wrought iron, ascends from the court-yard to the spacious porch, over which is a balcony, with an iron balustrade of similar pattern and workmanship to that beneath."

Each tale is part history, part folklore and part fiction, and one of them, "Howe's Masquerade," even makes reference to the stairs on Province Street:

"...entering the arched passage, which penetrated through the middle of a brick row of shops, a few steps transported me from the busy heart of modern Boston into a small and secluded court-yard."

Sadly, the House burnt to the ground in 1864, thus eliminating one of the last "great manors" of the colonial era.

Today, the notion of having a free-standing house, surrounded by a manicured courtyard, in the midst of Downtown Boston seems an absurdity, almost unimaginable. It is thankfully, then, that the granite steps remain, since they serve as both concrete proof of this history and as a reminder that Boston is an old city with a storied past. True, they are not much — not a church or a townhouse — but when one climbs their meager height, one is following in the footsteps of knights and generals, and where else in urban America can such a claim be made?

Warding Boston

2005-01-12T11:05:00.000-05:00

Interested in maps? Interested in Boston? Then, dear readers, you absolutely must check out WardMaps. Of particular interest is their Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of Boston in 1902, which is probably the best historical map tool available on-line.

Loyal readers take note: the site of yr humble correspondent's former residence was apparently occupied by the spacious grounds and townhouse of one Mr. John Webber at one time. And to think, it's all studio apartments these days.