USA > Massachusetts > Suffolk County > Winthrop > The history of Winthrop, Massachusetts ; 1630-1952 > Part 3
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utilitarian of purposes, except the proverbial New England bab- bling brook and a rock bound coast. Neither of these exists, or did exist in our borders."
Of course, under this original beauty and wealth of forest and game, some colonists found things they did not like too well. Their comments are particularly illuminating, both in reference to geography and to wild life, previously described.
One of the original settlers of the Puritan colony at Charles- town, was Anne Pollard, who died in 1725 at the age of 105. She claimed she "was the first to jump ashore" from the Winthrop party in the passage from Charlestown to Boston in 1630 and afterwards said she remembered the site of the future city as being "very uneven, abounding with small hollows and swamps, and covered with blueberry and other bushes."
The same thickets were described by Captain Edward John- son, writing about 1640. He said that "At their first landing the hideous thickets in this place were such that wolves and bears nurst up their young from the eyes of all beholders."
The section was famous for its good springs and clear, sweet water. The Indian name for Charlestown, Mishawum, means "a great spring" while Boston's Indian name, Shawmut, means "living fountain." There was indeed a great spring near Black- stone's house at about the present locality of Louisburg Square while there was "the great Spring" in Spring Lane, a little alley now running down from Washington Street just parallel with Water Street to the United States Postoffice Building. When the foundations of the new Postoffice building were put into place, the engineers were reported to have had some trouble with the waters of this spring-which were still flowing under the buildings and pavements of modern Boston.
Wood had much to say about water in the Boston section. Writing in 1634, he remarked: ". .. for the countrey it is as well watered as any land under the Sunne, every family, or every two families having a spring of sweet waters betwixt them, which is farre different from the waters of England, being not so sharpe, but of a fatter substance, ...: it is thought there can be no better water in the world, yet dare I not preferre it before good Beere, as some have done, but any man will choose it be- fore bad Beere, Wheay or Buttermilk. Those that drink it (Bos- ton's spring water) be as healthfull, fresh, and lustie, as they that drinke Beere; these springs be not onely within land, but likewise bordering upon the sea coasts, so that some times the tides overflow some of them .. . "
Wood was much interested in the trees comprising the forests in the vicinity of Boston, including Winthrop by infer- ence. Indeed he wrote the following verses about the local trees :
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"Trees both in hills and plaines, in plenty be, The long liv'd oake, and mournful Cypris tree, Skie towring pines, and Chestnuts coated rough, The lasting Cedar, with the Walnut tough; The rozzin dripping Firre for masts in use, The boatmen seeke for Oares light, neate grown Sprewse,
The brittle Ashe, the ever trembling Aspes,
The broad-spread Elme, whose concave harbours waspes, The water-spungie Alder, good for nought, Smalle Elderne by th' Indian Fletchers sought, The knottie Maple, pallid Birtch, Hawthornes,
The Horne bound tree that to be cloven scornes ;
Within this Indian Orchard fruites be some, The ruddie Cherrie, and the jettie Plumbe, Snake-muthering Hazell, with sweet Saxaphrage, Who spurnes in Beere allayes hot fevers' rage.
The Diars Shummach, with more trees there be, That are both good to use, and rare to see."
To conclude this chapter, somewhat out of chronological de- velopment, it should be pointed out that Winthrop, although al- most in the shadow of the State House, and more or less a part of Boston until 1852, was actually rather remote from the future city for some 200 years.
The two islands which are now East Boston, were never part of Winthrop or of any interest to Winthrop people. Actu- ally Winthrop was tied to Revere as a pensinsula, and Beachmont and adjacent Revere, another peninsula, was tied to Chelsea, and Chelsea itself was also a peninsula, reaching Boston by means of a ferry over the Mystic and Charles rivers. Chelsea, Revere and Winthrop, a series of three peninsulas, extended to the east and north of Boston but was sharply cut off from Boston by estuaries.
The natural way of Winthrop people to go into Boston was, of course, by water-row boats and sailing boats afforded the most rapid and the easiest way to town. There was considerable need of visiting Boston, too, for Winthrop was in the beginning and ever since has been dependent upon the City. Today, to drive to Boston, we go over the Belle Isle Creek bridge to Orient Heights and thence the length of East Boston and into the city through the Sumner Tunnel. There was no bridge over Belle Isle Creek until 1839. Of interest is also the fact that the road across the marsh between Orient Heights and Beachmont, was not built until 1870, while the road which gave a direct route from Chelsea to Revere was not constructed until 1802.
Boats served passengers and small loads of freight between
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Winthrop and Boston, or Revere, or Chelsea, but the moving of heavy loads was difficult. For example, previous to the Revolu- tion, if a Winthrop farmer, and all Winthrop people were farmers then, wanted to take a load of hay or a dozen beef cattle into market, he could drive only by a very roundabout way.
He would leave Winthrop by what is now Revere Street and pass along the eastern and northerly side of Beachmont to what is now Crescent Beach, Revere. Then he would go up Beach Street to what was then Chelsea Center, then over into Malden, to Medford via Everett, across the Mystic River into Somerville and on into Cambridge. Crossing the Charles near Harvard Square, he would finally arrive in what is now Brookline and then, turning east again, go through Roxbury and so into Bos- ton by way of Roxbury Neck. This was described in the writing of the day to be about fourteen miles although today it would seem to be a much longer trip. In contrast, a sailing boat with a fair wind could make the trip in under an hour while a row boat could certainly reach Boston from Winthrop in an hour.
This roundabout travel continued for perhaps a century be- cause Winthrop and Revere were very small, farming sections. During these hundred years, many changes took place. The forests were wiped out. The soil was placed under cultivation- although with the primitive tools, with only horse and oxen to do what man's own muscles did not, agriculture was exceedingly primitive. At about 1711, for example, a carefully made map located only four houses in Winthrop, one in Beachmont, two in other parts of Revere and four on the water's edge in Chelsea.
To serve the needs of these farms, several roads were laid out. These roads are not to be thought of as being real roads in the modern sense of a paved highway over which automotive vehicles roll at 40 to 50 miles an hour-when the police are not around. These roads were mere dirt tracks, hub-deep in mud in the Spring, dusty in hot weather and frozen tangles of ruts in Winter. Indeed, farmers used these roads as little as possible, save in Winter, when snow covered the roughness. All heavy moving possible was held until snows were deep and over the smooth surface sleds skidded more easily than at any time of year. Actually, the first roads were just rutted tracks which were called roads because they were rights of way and because the more objectionable stumps and rocks were removed.
Until bridges were built, these roads were primarily fixed by running from one fordable place in a stream to the next. They avoided the steepest grades and made detours often a long way around to make their way across the marshes. As for foot travelers, almost everybody walked, or else rode horseback-for to ride in the huge-wheeled carts over the rough surface of the
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roads was sheer torture. Of course, it must always be remem- bered that Winthrop people commonly went to and from Boston by water-safe, swift and easy. Winthrop people even went to church by boat, sailing up Belle Isle Inlet and down what is now the upper part of Boston harbor, near the present oil farm wharves and the gas tanks to as near Beach Street as possible. It was there, on Beach Street, near the present corner of School Street, behind the Library and the High School, that the First Church was built in 1710. Before that when Winthrop went to Church, services were either held in private homes, or else people sailed across the harbor to the churches at Boston itself-about as near as the old Chelsea Church. This Rumney Marsh Church, which became Unitarian, is still standing, although somewhat reconstructed during its 250 years. It is the present home of Seaview Lodge, Ancient Free and Accepted Masons.
As Boston grew, and other towns, particularly to the south, as Plymouth, Taunton and the like developed, and as other towns, as Framingham and Worcester to the west, and Lynn, Salem and Newburyport to the north developed, the problem of land trans- portation became acute. Mails had to be carried and passengers clamored for stage coaches. Thus, of particular interest to Win- throp, the old Salem Turnpike was built-probably the first real road in what is now the United States.
This pike ran from the Winnisimmet Ferry over the Mys- tic, between Charlestown and Chelsea to Salem. Basically, it was an old Indian trail, as indeed most of the early highways in New England were. The settlers used these trails and as such they served well enough for men and women on foot or on horse- back-but of course no wheeled vehicle could roll over them until they were widened and smoothed. The Old Salem Turnpike which has been considerably moved about since the early days, was picked out a number of years ago by Channing Howard of Winthrop and Mellen Chamberlain of Chelsea.
"Starting at the old ferry site, this road continued past the old ferry tavern (Taverns were an integral part of travel in the 18th Century) eastward by the Shurtleff farm mansion house, along what is now Hawthorn Street, up the present line of Wash- ington Avenue, around Slade's Corner where the Carter farm mansion stood, and where the road leading to Medford and Cam- bridge branches to the west (now County Road) and on to Saga- more Hill, now known as Mount Washington, past the Pratt House and thence through to North Revere, Cliftondale, Saugus, and Lynn to Salem. When the road across the Lynn marsh was built, the Salem pike was relocated to go across Chelsea, prob- ably what is now Broadway, straight down Broadway, Revere and so into Lynn. This saved many miles. Today the highway of
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Route One, skips through the rear of Orient Heights, slides across Revere to cross the old pike at right angles and so to North Revere, Saugus and Danvers to the North." To reach Re- vere, Salem and even Newburyport, it is now necessary to turn right off the highway. In the old days, highways were built to connect towns ; now they are built to avoid towns.
The first road in Winthrop of which there is any official record (probably the officials merely recognized an existing fact, when they got around to it) came in 1693 when the Selectmen of Boston, "laid out" a road which began at "Bill Tewksbury's gate" (there are many spellings of the name Tewksbury) at Pul- lin Point, along the shore by Beachmont to Crescent Beach and thence, turning left, up Beach Street, Revere, to the Chelsea church where it joined the Boston and Salem road.
By the time the Revolution came, this was about the physi- cal condition of Winthrop, Revere and Chelsea. Men used the roundabout roads when they had to do so; otherwise they sailed or rowed boats. This may seem strange, because Boston in 1775 was the largest and most prosperous city in the colonies. The reason is that Winthrop, and to a minor degree less, Chelsea and Revere, were still farming communities-actually one town.
In the early part of the 19th Century, Chelsea had grown and, as a separate town had its center with a town hall and a church at what is now Revere Center. A bridge was built across the Charles between Charlestown and Boston in 1785-before that the only way to leave Boston by land was out Roxbury Neck. Then when the Boston-Salem turnpike was built in 1802, a bridge was built over the Mystic between Charlestown and Chelsea. These conveniences to travel north and east resulted in a great development for Revere and Chelsea but Winthrop, being way out farther to the east was still aside from the stream of travel and commerce and hence drowsed along until almost the end of the 19th century as a peaceful farming community. The growth of Chelsea and Revere was so great that in 1846, Chelsea con- sented to Revere splitting away. Winthrop, of course went with Revere, a sort of tail to the dog.
At mid-century, just a hundred years ago, the third great geographical change was accomplished, Winthrop people, who had by then increased in number, began to chafe under the rule of Revere. Revere, for its part, was not at all concerned with the square mile of marsh and drumlins which was Winthrop and so, in 1852, Winthrop was established as the present town-a separation which recent years have proved to be an excellent thing.
Winthrop at that time was still primarily agricultural. From time to time there had been attempts to establish industry
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but all failed sooner or later and Winthrop has remained prac- tically industryless. From most points of view this has proved to be good-for it has prevented the town from suffering the various evils and discomforts of industrial concentration. Eco- nomically, of course, there are disadvantages but on the whole Winthrop is very fortunate to be a town of homes alone.
Being so near Boston, Winthrop could not long continue to remain agricultural. Land increased in value to a point where it could not be profitably farmed. Outside pressure became so great that an opportunity developed for the division of the farms, and the subdivisions of the divisions so that almost every square foot of land, town property and marshes aside, became a house lot. There are few towns which are so thoroughly well built up as Winthrop is today-just as there is no area of comparable charm so easily accessible to Boston.
The development of Winthrop out of farms to homes was made possible, by the establishment of transportation. Steamers plied for a time between the town and the city, but primarily it was the railroad which made the town's metamorphosis directly possible. Today the rails have been torn up and private cars and the bus line, feeding the Rapid Transit system at Orient Heights carry the load. Few communities are so thoroughly emptied of mornings and so filled up again at night in two brief peak loads as is Winthrop. But transportation is a story for a subsequent chapter.
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Chapter Two THE INDIANS
MUCH of the modern, popular idea of the Indian stems from the idealized and imaginative figures created by the motion pictures. The Indian actually was very far from a noble savage. Judged by white standards, the redskin was mean, cruel, dirty and-in short, vermin. The old saying, "The only good Indian is a dead Indian" was a judgment based upon experience.
There can be no doubt that, according to their own lights, the Indians were justified in attempting to retaliate upon the white settlers. Any man worth his salt would fight by whatever means possible to save his home, his family and himself from brutalization and exile. No critic of the Indian, however bitter, would deny that the Indian was a first-class fighting man.
The trouble was that the Indian culture was so different from the European that the two could not exist side by side. On one ground alone, economic, this is abundantly clear. The In- dians were primarily hunters. To subsist as such, a hunting culture requires comparatively vast areas of forest and water. The European culture was basically agricultural; a few acres would support a person. Thus New England could support a mul- titude more Englishmen than it could Indians. Now, to practice agriculture, it is necessary to destroy the forest cover, to allow the sun to strike in upon the soil. A hunting culture requires the forest be undisturbed. So-conflict was inevitable and, given the superior weapons and social organization of the English, the result was inevitable. The Indian had to go. The manner of going can be criticised as having been far too brutal and bloody but sentimentalists of the 20th Century do not realize what the handful of whites faced.
There they were, a few men, women and children clutching grimly to a hand-hold along shore, practically safe only under the guns of their ships. Home and safety was not as now, per- haps 14 hours flight away, but weeks and weeks of weary and uncertain voyaging over perilous seas in tiny ships. The settlers had to depend upon themselves. It is true they had muskets against the Indian bow and arrow and tomahawk-and scalping
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knife. It is true that every able-bodied man and boy was a mem- ber of the militia, practically ex officio. It is true that the Indians could not withstand an attack by a body of militia.
But, the Indian traditionally followed a policy of strike and run. No one knew when at dawn, they would wake, if they did, to the sound of the warwhoop with their homes afire over their heads. So, the settlers were compelled to fight the Indians Indian- fashion. They had to match savagery with even more brutal savagery. The only thing the Indian feared, and thus respected, was strength greater than he possessed. In other words, the In- dian had to be shown it was not good business to kill a white man, woman or child. The showing consisted of the settlers kill- ing Indian men, women and children. When the Great and Gen- eral Court of Massachusetts put a bounty on Indian scalps just as it did on wolves and wildcats, it was not mere savagery but sober business. The Indians killed for scalps; the settlers must be encouraged to do likewise.
The early history of New England is bloody and bitter with its series of Indian wars-with the Indians eventually being instigated and led by first the French and then the British. It is one of the ugliest chapters in human history-but it must be read in light of the fact that conditions, social, religious, eco- nomic and moral, have changed greatly since the last warwhoop died away and the Indians were herded into reservations. In passing, it may be of interest to know that the Indians of New England, after being reduced to a mere fragment, are today in- creasing in numbers again. There are more Indians in New Eng- land now than there were in Civil War days.
The occupation of this area by humans before Boston was settled is obscure. Apparently, the original inhabitants, so far as is known, were the so-called Red Paint People. Graves have been found in Maine with the skeletons dyed red and with pots of red pigment buried close beside.
Evidently, the Red Paint People were pushed out or ex- terminated by a nation of small-statured and swarthy aborigines who occupied at least all of northeastern America. How long they were here, where they came from-and all the rest, is a matter of mere legend.
Very likely, the small, dark people were in turn pushed out, by the familiar Indian of recorded history. These Indians, the red-skins, may have migrated out of Asia long, long ago, crossing into Alaska via the Bering Straits. Slowly these Indians made their way down the Pacific Coast, going southward until they either came into conflict with the tribes of Mexico, possibly the Mayas and the Incas, or their predecessors. Anyhow, the tide of red Indians turned left and came eastward across the Rockies
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and into the great Mississippi Basin. There, they moved north as well as east. Finally, a portion of them occupied the North- east, pushing out the small, dark people mentioned. The exiles seem to have gone north and east and it is possible that they are today either the Esquimaux or else their blood runs in Esquimaux veins.
The red Indians in the North East were members of what is called the Algonquian Nation-an immense but very loose con- federation of tribes. Practically, the only reason for such a na- tion being established by scholars is that the tribes so united spoke a language with a common or Algonquian stock.
For greater concern, the Eastern Indians were so-called forest Indians which is to say their culture, being dependent upon the forest which covered their holdings, was very different from the culture of the Indians of the Great Plains, where trees were almost unknown, where the staff of life was buffalo. It is these Plains Indians, such as the Sioux, proud, fierce, eagle- nosed, and very accomplished fighters, that set the standard of the popular idea of the Indian. Eastern or woods Indians did not have horses to ride, nor did they wear the picturesque war bon- net. They were extinguished with comparative ease while the Sioux, for example, stood off the Army of the United States, such of it as was employed, for more than a generation.
The Indians of New England were sharply divided into vari- ous tribes-although this word is actually a very loose term. The white settlers from England had a habit of naming the Indians according to the locality in which they lived, being particularly fond of naming a "tribe" after a river-as the Kennebecs and the Penobscots in Maine. The French settlers also bestowed tribal names and the result was that historians are somewhat confused, since often the same group of Indians were given two or even more names. Thus the Indians who lived in Winthrop and vicinity have not been positively identified as to their tribe. There is a general understanding that they were members of the Massachusetts tribe but that is indefinite. Perhaps, as some authorities assert, the Indians of Metropolitan Boston were Paw- tuckets. The point is unimportant. The serious point is that these Indians when the Puritans came were in a sorry condition. This was a very fortunate circumstance-for the settlers.
The old Norse sagas speak of the fighting quality and the strength and numbers of the Indians. Armed with swords, the Vikings, who were the best fighting men of Europe at the time, were no match for the savages-who probably overwhelmed the Norsemen by sheer force of numbers and thus extinguished the colonies, or colony. Certainly, after the experience of the Vik- ings, Europeans had a healthy respect for the red men.
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No one knows how many Indians lived in and around Boston in the early days. Fishermen had frequented the coast, including Boston Bay, for many years prior to "discovery" and settlement. These traded with the Indians somewhat and, on the whole main- tained a friendly relationship-since the fishermen did not try to settle permanently. From reports of these rough and ready spirits, strange tales found their way into the British mind. The woods of New England were imagined to be filled with wild beasts as horrid as anything a modern geologist can imagine while the Indians were counted as being "numberless as the leaves upon the trees."
One of the first and, possibly best estimates of Indians num- bers, although it is probably greatly exaggerated, is that made by the Sieur Des Monts, who anchored his little ships off the Win- throp shore, towards Noddle's Island, in 1605 and named Boston Harbor, Port St. Louis, and claimed the area for the King of France.
Des Monts asserted that Boston was the center of a vast Indian population, one numbering between 150,000 and 200,000 souls. There may have been that many Indians then in all New England, although that too is very doubtful. The country simply would not support that many humans in a hunting culture.
The description Des Monts gives of the Indians at Boston is interesting-if he was a poor census taker. He said that around about the harbor some thirty thousand fighting men were busy carrying fire and massacre into the villages of neighboring tribes, while they stood ready, to use his terms, to repel any at- tempt at settlement. The Indians, he reported lived in villages of bark houses, each large enough to shelter 30 or 40 persons, with the entire village fortified by a stout palisade of logs. These logs, poles is probably the better term, for the Indians did not have the tools to handle heavy timbers, were in turn surrounded by deep ditches. Entrance into the village was by a single plank (log is probably the better word) laid across the ditch and giving into a very narrow gate. Thus each village was very easily de- fended, against the stone-age weapons of the Indians themselves. In actual combat with the settlers later, the villages were of course death traps, for just as they kept other Indians out so they kept the inhabitants caged. The white militia, as in King Philip's War, simply surrounded the village stealthily and then, at a signal, discharged their muskets into the village, setting it ablaze. Any Indian trying to escape was shot down and so the entire village was wiped out, men, women, children and dogs.
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