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[15]

Somerville as I have known it

by Amelia H. Wood.

I shall not soon forget my first impression of my present home as I saw it one pleasant day in September, 1853. We drove through Charlestown, turning off at Cambridge, now Washington, street, where stood a large wooden building known as the Russell house, an old-fashioned country tavern, where the farmers could stop on their way to or from the city for rest or refreshment. It was afterwards cut into sections and moved to Brighton street, making homes for numerous families, and is still so occupied. Only a few other buildings or dwelling houses were there at that time. On the left was a marsh extending to the land owned by the McLean Asylum for the Insane, and beyond the Lowell railroad. On the right, I remember the Monroe house, with a blacksmith's shop, and on the site of that shop one of the Monroe family now lives. The Hadley house at the corner of Franklin street, and another near the railroad bridge were the only ones in that locality. That bridge, or under it, was dangerous, for it was a hollow, and heavy rains or sudden melting of the snow made it a lake, and at times impassable. Horses have been drowned there, and people in carriages narrowly escaped death.

Nearest the bridge was the house owned by Mr. Charles Tufts, who in later years gave the land for Tufts College, which bears his name. Next to him lived Deacon Benjamin Randall, who served the town several years as selectman. His house made the corner of a narrow street called Shawmut street, but, I am told, was known to the older people as ‘Three Pole Lane,’ and on the other corner was a beautiful garden fronting on Washington street, and extending through to Medford street, owned by a Mr. Hill. On the opposite corner of Medford street was the Dugan house, standing in a large lot that extended to Boston street, and the house still stands, enlarged and improved. [16] A brick building has been erected in the Medford-street corner, with store in the lower story, and is a successful business place.

Coming up Medford street on the right, by the Hill house, was a well-remembered cellar door which sloped inward, and in the darkness that prevailed after nightfall, so many people fell there, that a petition was presented to the town authorities for a lamp, and, after some delay and due consideration, it was granted. From there up Medford street all was dark, and lanterns were a necessity. Gentlemen who were detained in Boston evenings left their lanterns at the Milk Row station in the morning, to light them home by night.

To find our new home we were directed to the first street on the left, and after driving some distance, we inquired, and were told that opening that we had taken for a way into a pasture, or cowyard, was the place we wanted. The street, so-called, was partly dug out, the rest a bank, and on that corner Mr. Francis Russell lived, and his house still stands; and above his land was a cottage, now occupied by Mrs. Hatch. There was one pleasant thing about our anticipated premises,—the quantity of flowers around the house, which, we learned, had been the sole care of one of the ladies of the family. But the surroundings were not inviting, and only that we must change our residence reconciled us to settle there for the winter only, as we supposed. Putting in a furnace and building a barn for our horse were the first things attended to, and trying to improve the bog that was dignified by the name of Greenville street was the next thing attempted, and for years was a discouraging matter. Prospect hill was very near us, so near that we could easily converse with people on the summit from our driveway. The owners sold the so-called gravel, otherwise mud, to men who took it away in little carts holding two bushels (or a little more), and this continual teaming, especially in wet weather, made it dirty and dangerous for a light carriage, and all the repairs put on the street did not keep it in good condition, though enough money was expended to make it one of the best in the town. [17]

Till 1870 there were no added buildings, and about five years later, I think, Boston street was opened and a few houses built, and, later still, more. We made our own sidewalk, put a lamp at the foot of the street, one neighbor helping in this, and felt we were getting into city ways, and were happy.

The taking of Prospect hill to fill Miller's river gave a large tract of land that has been well improved, and the old hill is now a place of pleasant residences.

It is interesting to look back and see how Somerville has grown in all these years. I am not sure what the population was at that time, but I can tell something of the schools and churches. The high school had been built about two years, and I am told there was great opposition to it, many thinking it was a useless expense for so few pupils.

There was a wooden schoolhouse on Sycamore street, another at the corner of Broadway and Franklin street, another on Somerville avenue, land the Prospect Hill, which is still used, but is twice its original size. Where Central square now is was a low, two-roomed building, one room of which was used for a primary school. It was taken away when the Brastow was built, the first year of the war, 1861.

The Perkins-street church had moved from Mystic avenue, or near there, and was the only one in East Somerville. Many people of that section who had walked to Charlestown decided that it was necessary to have a church near home, and the Franklin-street church was built, and opened for worship, I think, in 1855. This was burned by the incendiary's torch about the time other churches and school buildings were destroyed in the same way, but was soon replaced by the present brick edifice. The Unitarian church, which was one of the earliest in town, and the Cross-street Universalist were burned at that time. The Springhill Baptist was formerly a chapel, which is still standing, and Methodist services were held in a small hall in Union square, but after a time they built a wooden church on Webster avenue, which is now occupied by the Catholic parochial school, and they [18] moved to their present commodious new church in Wesley square. I can only recall three churches when I came here, and now we are called the city of churches and schools.

There seemed in those days so much vacant, unoccupied land that it would take ages to cover and improve it, but even now, with few exceptions, it has been well utilized, and there are few lonely places. West Somerville, now so populous and thriving, was a farming locality, with few houses and much land.

From our second-story windows in those days I could see our own team as it turned the corner at Charlestown Neck, and as some of the family wended their way to church (Franklin-street) we could see them till they passed from Glen to Pearl street.

The part of the city near the Fitchburg railroad crossing, called by the old settlers ‘Brick Bottom,’ might well be called Shanty Town, from its miserable houses and its dirty surroundings, and it needed the excitement caused by a hot, unhealthy season to remedy the condition of things, and the stagnant pools and refuse heaps were filled up land removed by the town authorities.

To-day, we old inhabitants, looking around with pride on our beautiful parks and well-kept roads, our lighted streets, fine public buildings and residences, wonder if we really lived without them in the old days, and, having seen all these improvements come and grow, feel more interest and satisfaction in them than those who have lived here fewer years. May I say what I believe to have been the greatest factor in the growth and well-being of our good city? For eighteen ears the voters have declared that license to sell intoxicating liquors shall not be granted, and the saloon and rum shop are things of the past; and in those years our population has increased from twenty to more than sixty thousand inhabitants.

Beautiful for situation, with its seven hills, most of them crowned with church or school, is Somerville, our dwelling place.

January 3, 1900

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