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Browsing named entities in Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 22.. You can also browse the collection for Martin Burridge or search for Martin Burridge in all documents.
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Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 22., A Medford garden and the gardener's notes. (search)
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 22., Medford Horticulturists. (search)
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 22., chapter 28 (search)
An old-time Medford gardener.
The family of Martin Burridge was descended from English stock found in Seething, Norfolk county.
Robert, the first ancestor of whom there is any record, was there early in the sixteenth century.
John, a great-grandson, became the emigrant ancestor, coming to Charlestown about 1637. One of his sons took Burridge, and another Burrage, as the form for the family name, and their descendants respectively have followed the standard set for them.
This line is successively traced from Charlestown to Newton, Concord, Lunenburg, where John of the ninth generation married Lois Barthrick of that town in 1781.
His brother Jonathan r in the war of the Revolution.
About 1800 he came to Medford, where he died, July 20, 1822.
Mr. Francis Converse of Medford, meeting someone by the name of Burridge in Boston, where he traded, asked if he was related to the late John Burridge of Medford, saying, It would be an honor to be, for he was a very worthy man, great
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 22., A Remembrance of the old bakery. (search)
A Remembrance of the old bakery.
Martin Burridge's brother-in-law, Henry Withington (the second of the name in this town, and father of the late assessor), enjoyed telling, so the latter informed the writer, that he was once a scullion in Timothy Bigelow's kitchen.
Whatever his service or position there, without doubt he had an experience that enabled him, when he entered into the bakery business, to supply his townsmen with superior products.
Who does not love to recall that little old shop, than which nothing in story or reality was quainter nor more alluring.
Small, low studded, with beamed ceiling, it looked antique in every particular, with the tiny desk on the wall where one stood or perched on a high stool to cast up his accounts.
You might enter sometime and find no one to attend to your wants, but a bell on the door as you opened it had given notice of your entering, and very soon someone opened a glass door of a living-room at the west, stepped down two steps,