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Each month, Dick Kollen, Lexington Historical Society Historian, and teacher of History at Lexington High School, writes a feature article on an interesting event that took place in Lexington's history, which coincides with the current calendar. Enjoy!
The Italian Contribution to Lexington Farming
As promised, this month I turn to Italian farmers. Just as the influx of Irish immigrants breathed new life into farming in Lexington in the late 19th century, Italian immigrants played the same role in the first half of the 20th century.
The Italians were part of a wave known as the “new immigrants,” those who emigrated from Southern and Eastern Europe. For most of this “new” group, among them Russians, Poles, Greeks and Italians, dire economic conditions pushed them from their homeland. In Lexington, the Italians stood out as the most significant group. Lack of tillable land and exploitation by the wealthier Northern Italy caused the migration of Southern Italians. Much like the Irish of the late 19th century Italians injected fresh blood into Lexington’s agricultural enterprise.
Even though about 75% of Italian immigrants had farmed in Italy, many initially sought alternative livelihoods in the United States. Like other new immigrants, some Italians did not plan on starting life anew in this country. For those intending a temporary stay, purchasing a farm implied a permanence not sought after. These temporary workers migrated to the cities, to make some money and return to their families. Often, husbands immigrated without their families and sent money home. While this was true of many new immigrants, the Italian rate of return was quite high—estimated at 30-50%--creating the false perception that all Italians were “Birds of Paradise” or temporary residents.
This seeming lack of commitment to the country combined with other factors to create resentment toward Italians immigrants.With 80% coming from Southern Italy and Sicily, the poorest area, many arrived illiterate in their own language. They were slow to
become U.S. citizens. As the Northern Italians had, Americans targeted them as inferior due poverty and their dark complexion.
Compounding this ethnic prejudice was the Italian reputation for producing anarchists and other political radicals. Key organizers for the radical IWW (International Workers of the World) were Italian and helped lead the Lawrence Bread and Roses strike of 1911. In 1916 Italian anarchists bombed a police station in the North End in retribution for their having disrupted a demonstration earlier. Three years later the Italian anarchists, Nicco Sacco and Barthlomew Vanzetti were arrested on a felony murder charge in
Braintree. These not so distant events must have made Lexington residents leery of an influx of Italian immigrants.
But for young Italian men with no political designs and plans to stay, however, the United States was their future. Men like the Busa Brothers, Joseph Tropeano, Pasquale Luongo and Jerry Cataldo came to Lexington, not as“Birds of Paradise,” but as men who wanted to put down roots, both literally and figuratively. They were among the first Italians to own farms in town, forming the basis of the next generation of immigrant farmers so necessary to continuing the town’s agrarian tradition.
Not all Italians embraced farming, the memories of Southern Italy’s unstable agricultural economy fresh in mind. But others eagerly sought and for cultivation—in particular as market gardeners. Even those that did not farm for a living kept gardens. Italians tended to be insular, finding comfort in extended families and security in ethnic enclaves. Lexington’s Italian village was Bow Street and the part of Lowell Street it crossed. According to Alfred Busa every Italian family in this area had a garden in the backyard. These gardens were unlike those of native Lexingtonians. They were much larger, cultivating perhaps a couple hundred tomato plants among other produce. The tomatoes were cooked and jarred to last throughout the year. Many Italian families grew grapevines and a fig tree along with peppers, basil, and squash.
Most first generation Italian Lexington residents arrived in the 1920s. The state census in 1905 lists only 44 Italians out of 2,257 foreign-born in town. This placed Italians only 11th among immigrant groups at the time. But soon after several North End residents began to buy small parcels of land in Lexington. The Rindge and the Bow Street area was divided into 50 ft. lots. The Fern Street area had similar subdivision. For many Italians these small, affordable lots became their foothold. These North End residents, who probably longed for garden space in Lexington, lived in Boston most of the year. While they farmed in Lexington
during the summer, they lived in a makeshift dwelling they constructed for short-term habitation. Later houses were built for permanent residence. As the farms became established, they expanded their land.
The United States census in 1930 indicates that Italians comprised 40% of the foreign-born farm owners in Lexington. The census reveals that three Canadian, two Portuguese one English, one Swedish and one Armenian also owned farms. This did not include dairies, stock farms and florists. Nor does it include the number of farm laborers of which Italians comprised the majority. Also, the number of Italian gardens from which produce was sold is not accounted for. It may have been early for a number of Italian farm owners, though. The 1936 Lexington directory lists 137 heads of households who lists farmer, milk dealer, florist, or stock farm.
Of that number, forty-one had Italian surnames (22.6%). This would include second generation Italians, as opposed to the
statistic used for the 1930 census. But it also shows a number of new Italian farm owners.
As the Italian population increased, they organized a chapter of the Sons of Italy. In 1927 Antonio Cataldo, Benjamin Santasuosso and Albert Lippa became the first officers of this newly formed group, one that continues to this day. Meeting at a private residence on Bow Street, the group organized social functions such as picnics and banquets along with supporting each other in time of sickness or other hardship. Curiously, the Lexington Town Directory under the club listings denoted the organizations name as the Paul Revere Italian Improvement Association. Perhaps, invoking Paul Revere, an American hero significant to the town, and a former resident of the North End, was seized on as a way to be more easily assimilated into the town. It was not easy.
Some Italians may have had a difficult time buying land for a farm in Lexington in the 1920s. It was not unusual to for Italians to have to buy land by straw, as Irish often had to fifty years earlier. In many ways the“new immigrants” followed a similar path as those that arrived in the mid 19thcentury. Often beginning as laborers, many worked to save and eventually buy land in Lexington. The first two of five Busa brothers, Antonio and Fransesco, worked as laborers until two other Busas, Giovanni and Geatanno, arrived to help save to buy the Lowell street farm. Joseph Tropeano had for decades run the Larchmont farm as a laborer before he purchased it.
Marketing changed in the 1920s. Market gardeners continued to carry produce to Quincy Market in Boston at night for sale early in the morning. But their were several innovations. Pasquale Luongo began a farm stand on Pleasant Street in 1919. Some local Italians, like Tom Napoli, peddled produce and eggs door to door from a pushcarts before later opening a farm stand. Jerry Cataldo and his wife marketed their two 1927 Model T Fords to deliver a variety of items including produce.
Once established, the native born farmers, traveled in different circles than the ethnic minorities in town. It is perhaps notable that while the Busas, Napolis, Cataldos, Venutis all had market gardens, none advertised in the 1936 business section of the directory while Albert Burnham, John Haley, Alexander Wilson, John Morrow and John Graham did. Yet, like the immigrants before them later generations of Italians Americans eventually assimilated into the Lexington mainstream, becoming contributing members, and often, leaders.
Banned in Lexington! February 1936
It may come as a surprise to many town residents today that “banned in Lexington” could have been applied to one artistic endeavor seventy-seven years ago. Part of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, the Federal Theater Project offered low cost entertainment to appreciative local audiences during the Great Depression. But one play was prohibited in Lexington, even though it had been runner-up to the Pulitzer Prize.
On February 20, 1936 the Selectmen, responding to church leaders and parent complaints, withdrew permission for Maxwell Anderson’s, “Valley Forge.” Word had reached Lexington about the play’s contents. The previous night it played in Plymouth, causing parents to remove their children during the performance due to "vulgar” lines and “obscene talk about General Washington,” according to the Boston Post. The presence of female camp followers and men clothed only in underwear also rankled many in the audience. Since the play’s directors had specifically invited children and encouraged teachers to do so, it met with angry “reviews.” Despite an offer by the directors to delete the objectionable lines, Lexington refused to allow the performance, scheduled to take place at Cary Hall on February 21. The following night, a censored version was performed
in Leominster. While Boston newspapers covered the story in more detail, The Lexington Minuteman simply included a front page insert announcing that the Selectmen cancelled the performances “because of unfavorable publicity . . . and lack of time in which to assure themselves that it can be presented in a manner that will not offend local audiences.” TheBoston Herald lamented Lexington’s action arguing that every war has a “mean and sordid side” and that “Washington emerges as more heroic than any
high-school textbook ever made him” in the script’s portrayal.
Although Lexington co-sponsored several activities by the Works Progress Administration’s Federal Arts, Theater, Writers and Music Projects, FDR’s New Deal “big government” thrust had not played well in town since its inception. The conservative town
had voted for Herbert Hoover over Roosevelt 3091 to 1368. Two years earlier, on the 1934 Patriots Day, as part of the Battle of Lexington’s 159th Anniversary, town residents read a petition condemning Roosevelt’s New Deal policies. Specifically, they targeted the new business regulations, a part of the National Recovery Act, emanating from Washington during Roosevelt’s first Hundred Days. Flanked by battle re-enactors dressed as 18th century militia, they hoped to fire the first shot in a battle to halt what they viewed as the administration’s centralized direction. Like their ancestors--and not unlike today’s modern Tea Party--the participants disliked business regulations established from afar perceived as interference with local economic autonomy. The Chairman of the Board of Selectmen read the petition on the Common, the Moderator delivered it to Congress and the town newspaper endorsed it. In Washington, on the same day Rep. Edith Nourse Rogers introduced the petition in the House of
Representatives, reading the entire document and signatories into the Congressional Record.
There was another perspective in town, however. A counter-petition in support of FDR’s programs was organized and endorsed by the Lexington Democratic Town Committee. While a political minority in town, this group represented the working class that benefited directly from the New Deal. In Congress, the next day eight “minutemen” delivered a Lexington counter petition.
But it never made it into the Congressional Record. Ultimately, the events created quite a stir around the country, with
newspapers nation-wide weighing in on either side depending on the their partisan interests. It should be noted that another anti-FDR rally to protest the possibility of a third term was held on the Common in 1940. Lexington was not FDR country.
The New Deal years are a reminder that although Lexington’s history offers continuities with the present, it offers distinct departures also. While some may say that politically Lexington has changed for the better, others will say it changed for the worse. No one would disagree that it has changed.
It may come as a surprise to many town residents today that “banned in Lexington” could have been applied to one artistic endeavor seventy-seven years ago. Part of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, the Federal Theater Project offered low cost entertainment to appreciative local audiences during the Great Depression. But one play was prohibited in Lexington, even though it had been runner-up to the Pulitzer Prize.
On February 20, 1936 the Selectmen, responding to church leaders and parent complaints, withdrew permission for Maxwell Anderson’s, “Valley Forge.” Word had reached Lexington about the play’s contents. The previous night it played in Plymouth, causing parents to remove their children during the performance due to "vulgar” lines and “obscene talk about General Washington,” according to the Boston Post. The presence of female camp followers and men clothed only in underwear also rankled many in the audience. Since the play’s directors had specifically invited children and encouraged teachers to do so, it met with angry “reviews.” Despite an offer by the directors to delete the objectionable lines, Lexington refused to allow the performance, scheduled to take place at Cary Hall on February 21. The following night, a censored version was performed
in Leominster. While Boston newspapers covered the story in more detail, The Lexington Minuteman simply included a front page insert announcing that the Selectmen cancelled the performances “because of unfavorable publicity . . . and lack of time in which to assure themselves that it can be presented in a manner that will not offend local audiences.” TheBoston Herald lamented Lexington’s action arguing that every war has a “mean and sordid side” and that “Washington emerges as more heroic than any
high-school textbook ever made him” in the script’s portrayal.
Although Lexington co-sponsored several activities by the Works Progress Administration’s Federal Arts, Theater, Writers and Music Projects, FDR’s New Deal “big government” thrust had not played well in town since its inception. The conservative town
had voted for Herbert Hoover over Roosevelt 3091 to 1368. Two years earlier, on the 1934 Patriots Day, as part of the Battle of Lexington’s 159th Anniversary, town residents read a petition condemning Roosevelt’s New Deal policies. Specifically, they targeted the new business regulations, a part of the National Recovery Act, emanating from Washington during Roosevelt’s first Hundred Days. Flanked by battle re-enactors dressed as 18th century militia, they hoped to fire the first shot in a battle to halt what they viewed as the administration’s centralized direction. Like their ancestors--and not unlike today’s modern Tea Party--the participants disliked business regulations established from afar perceived as interference with local economic autonomy. The Chairman of the Board of Selectmen read the petition on the Common, the Moderator delivered it to Congress and the town newspaper endorsed it. In Washington, on the same day Rep. Edith Nourse Rogers introduced the petition in the House of
Representatives, reading the entire document and signatories into the Congressional Record.
There was another perspective in town, however. A counter-petition in support of FDR’s programs was organized and endorsed by the Lexington Democratic Town Committee. While a political minority in town, this group represented the working class that benefited directly from the New Deal. In Congress, the next day eight “minutemen” delivered a Lexington counter petition.
But it never made it into the Congressional Record. Ultimately, the events created quite a stir around the country, with
newspapers nation-wide weighing in on either side depending on the their partisan interests. It should be noted that another anti-FDR rally to protest the possibility of a third term was held on the Common in 1940. Lexington was not FDR country.
The New Deal years are a reminder that although Lexington’s history offers continuities with the present, it offers distinct departures also. While some may say that politically Lexington has changed for the better, others will say it changed for the worse. No one would disagree that it has changed.
East Lexington - January 1798
In January 1798 the Lexington town meeting turned down a request by East Lexington to become a separate school district. The village had pushed for this since 1792. In the succeeding decades, bitterness grew between the Center Village and the East
Village as the latter pushed for more self-sufficiency but was outvoted at townmeeting. There were a number of reasons for the East Village’s aspirations, not the least of which was the village’s emerging economic viability.
The Robbins family spearheaded the growth of the East Village. The patriarch, Stephen Robbins, established himself in the late 1700s as proprietor of the first fur dressing enterprise in East Lexington. Although several competitors arose in the village, Robbins’s business was undoubtedly the largest in scale, later growing to over one hundred employees once his son, Eli, took over. Fur dressing manufacturers produced fur capes, muffs, fur-lined boots, gloves and other products from pelts. Stephen Robbins, who also owned a dry goods store, at first exchanged West India goods for pelts. He often paid his workers in goods
from his store. Robbins’s account books show he and his sons ranging outside the state into New York and even Canada to purchase bear and sable pelts. He regularly traveled to Boston to buy his West India goods. Locally, he purchased deer, fox and rabbit pelts. Robbins even manufactured and sold “pole cat” muffs and tippets, or stoles.
As East Village took on its own character and the population grew, it began to resent that Lexington’s civic life was located around the common. Why couldn’t the Village have its own church and school? Perhaps, the school controversy began the hard feelings between the two villages. In 1792 East Village requested that the town set the community off as a separate school district as a “ward by itself” so that it could build a schoolhouse. At the time, town meeting had voted not to locate its schoolhouse even in the Center and called for a “moving” school held in private homes in three districts including East Lexington. The East Villagers, however, wanted a schoolhouse and it appears that they built their school without town funds, probably by subscription. But in 1794, town meeting voted “to receive the school-house in the east part of the town as the town’s property.” Once appropriated as town property “they shall move it to some convenient place when they can procure a place to set it.” At the time the school stood on Pleasant Street near Massachusetts Avenue. Whether the intent was to move it to the center or just closer to the center remains unclear. At the time no classes were being held in the Center District. Eventually, the East Village school was moved to Mason’s Hollow, across the street from the Sanderson House and east of the Munroe Tavern.
To say the people of East Village resisted the moving of the schoolhouse is to understate their zeal. The town engaged local workers to put the schoolhouse on rollers and pull it with a large team of oxen. But they could expect no help from irate East Village residents. They would not even lend oxen. When the chain pulling the schoolhouse broke, blacksmith Joseph Loring refused to repair it. In addition to this passive resistance, East Villagers actively harriedthe moving process by ringing bells and firing guns to frighten the oxen. This event brought to the surface any latent hostility existing between the two villages. It was at this time that the people of the Center district began to refer to East Village as Hell Street. This was just one example of the animosity that often existed between the two villages.
By the nineteenth century’s early decades, the East Village had further developed its strong commercial base, unlike the Center Village. The East Village community by the 1830’s numbered about three hundred people residing in fifty-three houses.
Clustered near the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Pleasant Street, these houses stood along Massachusetts Avenue. Four fur dressing manufacturers employed hundreds of workers. George O. Smith in The Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society V. II estimated that their production outstripped that of any town outside of the cities of Boston or New York. Also, East Lexington’s gristmills attracted commerce and the peat industry, out of the Great Meadow, flourished after the fur industry’s demise. Other businesses included tin ware and shoes. The Wellington and Peacock Farms later became large-scale
milk producers
The Robbins family eventually contributed a great deal to their neighborhood. Among the family’s many benefactions, Stephen donated the land for a meetinghouse, now Follen Church, built in 1840.His son Eli continued the Robbins family contributions to making East village a vibrant community in the early 19th century. He built Robbins Hall (later called the Stone building), the brick store and an observatory on Mount Independence among other things.
Due to its financial contribution to the town, by the 1830s East Village began to regard itself as at least as important as the Center Village. Thus, the traditional animosity between the two villages continued unabated throughout the nineteenth century.
The intra-town rivalry later played out over the founding of a church in East Lexington, and over the placement of the town hall in the center in the town center. Many East Villagers refused to enter the building for years after its construction in 1871.
Village as the latter pushed for more self-sufficiency but was outvoted at townmeeting. There were a number of reasons for the East Village’s aspirations, not the least of which was the village’s emerging economic viability.
The Robbins family spearheaded the growth of the East Village. The patriarch, Stephen Robbins, established himself in the late 1700s as proprietor of the first fur dressing enterprise in East Lexington. Although several competitors arose in the village, Robbins’s business was undoubtedly the largest in scale, later growing to over one hundred employees once his son, Eli, took over. Fur dressing manufacturers produced fur capes, muffs, fur-lined boots, gloves and other products from pelts. Stephen Robbins, who also owned a dry goods store, at first exchanged West India goods for pelts. He often paid his workers in goods
from his store. Robbins’s account books show he and his sons ranging outside the state into New York and even Canada to purchase bear and sable pelts. He regularly traveled to Boston to buy his West India goods. Locally, he purchased deer, fox and rabbit pelts. Robbins even manufactured and sold “pole cat” muffs and tippets, or stoles.
As East Village took on its own character and the population grew, it began to resent that Lexington’s civic life was located around the common. Why couldn’t the Village have its own church and school? Perhaps, the school controversy began the hard feelings between the two villages. In 1792 East Village requested that the town set the community off as a separate school district as a “ward by itself” so that it could build a schoolhouse. At the time, town meeting had voted not to locate its schoolhouse even in the Center and called for a “moving” school held in private homes in three districts including East Lexington. The East Villagers, however, wanted a schoolhouse and it appears that they built their school without town funds, probably by subscription. But in 1794, town meeting voted “to receive the school-house in the east part of the town as the town’s property.” Once appropriated as town property “they shall move it to some convenient place when they can procure a place to set it.” At the time the school stood on Pleasant Street near Massachusetts Avenue. Whether the intent was to move it to the center or just closer to the center remains unclear. At the time no classes were being held in the Center District. Eventually, the East Village school was moved to Mason’s Hollow, across the street from the Sanderson House and east of the Munroe Tavern.
To say the people of East Village resisted the moving of the schoolhouse is to understate their zeal. The town engaged local workers to put the schoolhouse on rollers and pull it with a large team of oxen. But they could expect no help from irate East Village residents. They would not even lend oxen. When the chain pulling the schoolhouse broke, blacksmith Joseph Loring refused to repair it. In addition to this passive resistance, East Villagers actively harriedthe moving process by ringing bells and firing guns to frighten the oxen. This event brought to the surface any latent hostility existing between the two villages. It was at this time that the people of the Center district began to refer to East Village as Hell Street. This was just one example of the animosity that often existed between the two villages.
By the nineteenth century’s early decades, the East Village had further developed its strong commercial base, unlike the Center Village. The East Village community by the 1830’s numbered about three hundred people residing in fifty-three houses.
Clustered near the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Pleasant Street, these houses stood along Massachusetts Avenue. Four fur dressing manufacturers employed hundreds of workers. George O. Smith in The Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society V. II estimated that their production outstripped that of any town outside of the cities of Boston or New York. Also, East Lexington’s gristmills attracted commerce and the peat industry, out of the Great Meadow, flourished after the fur industry’s demise. Other businesses included tin ware and shoes. The Wellington and Peacock Farms later became large-scale
milk producers
The Robbins family eventually contributed a great deal to their neighborhood. Among the family’s many benefactions, Stephen donated the land for a meetinghouse, now Follen Church, built in 1840.His son Eli continued the Robbins family contributions to making East village a vibrant community in the early 19th century. He built Robbins Hall (later called the Stone building), the brick store and an observatory on Mount Independence among other things.
Due to its financial contribution to the town, by the 1830s East Village began to regard itself as at least as important as the Center Village. Thus, the traditional animosity between the two villages continued unabated throughout the nineteenth century.
The intra-town rivalry later played out over the founding of a church in East Lexington, and over the placement of the town hall in the center in the town center. Many East Villagers refused to enter the building for years after its construction in 1871.
November 5, 1755 - Jonas Clarke Ordained as Lexington's Minister
On November 5, 1755, Rev. Jonas Clarke was ordained as Lexington’s minister. The selection of a minister was the one of the
most important tasks members of the Congregational church could perform. But it is highly unlikely that they understood the political import of their decision.
The Revolutionary War would begin in Lexington. Unlike some neighboring towns, internal discord did not divide the residents’ opposition to imperial legislation. Several reasons account for this, not the least of which was the relative absence of both
economic diversity and previous religious conflicts. Religious conflicts had been minimized under the skillful ministry of Rev. John Hancock, who had served for fifty-four years, many during times of religious turmoil in adjacent towns. Much of the later political stability, as opposition to crown policies grew, was also due his successor’s work in shaping the town’s response to the growing crisis. Throughout the critical period, the center of political influence resided at the town’s parsonage on today’s Hancock Street--in the person of Jonas Clarke. He was the moving force behind several town resolutions and actions that led Lexington in a radical direction. Not surprisingly, the Lexington parsonage became the locus of activity for the events of April 19, 1775.
When Reverend John Hancock died in 1752, Lexington quickly chose a committee to supply the pulpit until a decision could be made on a settled or permanent minister. Substitute pastors filled in lecturing for a few Sunday’s each. This also served as an audition for the congregation to get the measure of minister’s work, if he should apply for settlement. On April 8, 1754 Lexington town meeting voted to “keep a day of fasting and prayer on the 25th of the above said April in preparation for said choice.”
In June it extended an invitation to Mr. Aaron Putnam. He turned it down because the vote to invite him fell far short of unanimity. Perhaps, Putnam feared a division in the congregation that might hamper his ministry at the outset. Consequently, several other ministers“ auditioned,” Jonas Clarke among them. He had graduated Harvard College in the same year Hancock died, but returned to earn a graduate degree in theology. In May of 1755 the congregation voted to invite Jonas Clarke to be its permanent pastor. The vote also fell short of unanimity, 51 to 16. Clarke did not see this as an impediment to his success. On November 2 Rev. Clarke was ordained as settled minister in Lexington.
Since the Widow Hancock still lived in the parsonage, the unmarried Clarke boarded there. At about the same time Lucy Bowes, Mrs. Hancock’s granddaughter, came to live with her. Within two years Lucy and Jonas were wed, making Clarke a Hancock
relation by marriage. Lucy Bowes was cousin to John Hancock, the first signer of the Declaration of Independence. This relationship surely influenced his close connection to the Patriot cause. He would continue to serve through fifty Novembers until he died on November 15, 1805.
October 2, 1823 - Country Fairs
Last weekend’s 300th Anniversary Country Fair was, by all accounts, a great success. The event reflected an acknowledgment by the 300th Committee of Lexington’s farming past. Fairs such as these served as prime fall entertainment for the town’s residents of the past.
About two hundred years ago annual fairs, first called Cattle Shows, and often held in Concord, began to highlight the fall season. Middlesex Agricultural Society, established 1794, organized and sponsored the events. The Society existed to improve agricultural practice by encouraging agricultural experimentation and the exchange of information. Lexington farmers were slow to participate because experimentation required risk-taking. A farmer of limited means could ill afford to lose crops or livestock to a failed experiment. Lexington, a modest town, had few gentlemen farmers at the time. Thus, early entries for the annual exhibit
revealed little interest among Lexington men. In 1822 seventy-one Middlesex participants entered, with none from Lexington. Abijah Harrington, Jonas Munroe, Oliver Locke, Jonas Bridge, Amos Muzzey Jr., Charles Reed, and Nathaniel, however,
became members of the Society on October 2, 1823—the first from Lexington to join the Middlesex Agricultural Society.
Like last week’s Country Fair, the Middlesex Agricultural Society’s annual fair featured competitions in various categories. In the early years, Lexington women entered these more than men. Among the prize categories, home manufacture demonstrated the importance of the wife to the farming enterprise. But it also revealed a different value given to men and women’s work, as the cash prize amounts differed markedly for the winner in women’s categories. Prizes were awarded for a variety of home products such as glassware and needlework, but premiums for cloth was most prized. In 1824 Mary Harrington submitted the town’s lone
entry; Lydia A. Brown entered for a coverlet and twelve-year old Laura Hosmer for lace in 1829. No Lexington man entered during those years.
Interest among Lexington farmers increased in ensuing years, however. A perusal of the Middlesex Agricultural Society records of premiums awarded reveals Lexingtonians, while not dominant, holding their own. In 1853 C.W. Joslin won $1.00 for potatoes and peaches and Bowen Harrington $4.00 for celery. Three years later Joslin and Harrington won again--both for a bushel of wheat that must have been quite notable. Andrew Wellington took the $6.00 premium for a winning bull. Under the needlework and manufacture category Joseph Fisk won a $1.00 prize for a shell table he constructed.
By the 1860s another generation of farmers had become more active in the society. These were men of means. Serving on three person awards committees were James S. Monroe for the stallions category, Webster Smith for milch cows, William Tower for roadsters (horses for riding on roads) as well as arts and pictures, John Reed for heifers, James Gould Seine, and James Grammel for working oxen. Some of Lexington’s wealthiest citizens won premiums in ensuing years. Fancis B. Hayes won for bulls and heifers in 1887 as did Tower in 1891.
Lexington held its own Country Fair and Cattle Show for three years in late September beginning in 1919. The first two took place on the Tower estate at Pelham Street and the last on the Cary Estate. Organized and sponsored by Ellen Tower, the proceeds went to a child welfare fund. Miss Tower, an advocate for underprivileged children in urban areas, was a leader in Boston’s playground movement, an effort to preserve spaces in the city for children to play. She also promoted Boston trips to Lexington to enable urban children to experience the rural life. The Fair boasted a variety of foods on sale such as doughnuts and cake. Children enjoyed activities such as donkey rides and sports. In addition to the livestock and produce exhibits, a tractor pull highlighted the day’s activities.
Last week’s fair enabled Lexington residents to keep in touch with their rural past—a past that encompasses most of the town’s
history.
August - A Busy Month in Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Century Lexington
August was always a busy month on the farm for much of Lexington’s history. In the colonial era all landowners tilled the soil. In the early 1800s commercial agriculture developed, as its farms fed urban areas. But as the Civil War approached, the number of farms began to decrease in town. The timely entry of the Irish averted a labor crisis.
Beginning in 1850 each succeeding U.S. Census reported fewer Lexingtonians who called themselves farmers. Yet the demand for farm labor actually increased since market conditions required larger, more specialized farms. Young people seeking work alternatives beyond the farm found options in the West along with the explosion of industrial and commercial opportunities in the cities. Even those who remained could now commute via railroad to Boston. This shrinking pool of native-born labor was a problem.
Fortunately, immigration brought foreign workers to Lexington, particularly the Irish. The census reveals that Lexington’s Irish in-migration began in 1840s and 1850s. Many worked initially on the Lexington and West Cambridge Railroad which began in 1846—the year following the onset of the first Irish potato famine. In the 1850s the Irish population doubled in Lexington and the 1864 Annual Report recorded fifty-six of ninety parents of newborns to be native to Ireland.
The 1850 census lists “laborer” under occupation for most Lexington Irish, often with a farm identified as the place of residence. Some worked seasonally, during a farm’s busiest times. Those who settled in town rented modest dwellings in the Woburn Street area nearest Massachusetts Avenue, soon called Irish Village. By 1875 some had purchased houses there.
Through hard work and thrift, some purchased farms, thus supplying an integral influx of new farm owners to Lexington. But this happened slowly. The 1860 U.S. census listed only three Irish of 112 Lexington farm owners: Patrick Fitzpatrick, James Crowley, and William Lowry. Fitzpatrick and Crowley owned modest farms, with the land valued at $3000. McGrath’s was smaller as it was assessed at $1000.
By 1880, however, the census listed seventeen residents as first generation Irish farm owners of 105 total farm families. This is an impressive number since most Irish arrived in dire poverty. Rising to farm ownership, they belied the shiftless, irresponsible stereotype harbored by many Lexington residents at the time.
Massachusetts residents of Yankee stock often displayed prejudice toward the Catholic Irish newcomers. Lexington was no exception. While Irish Village was the polite term for the Irish neighborhood in town, “Skunk Hollow,” along with less printable epithets, reflected a prevalent attitude. A distinction developed in Lexington Yankee minds between Irish laborers, who were seen a transient and shiftless, and those who displayed the value system prized by the natives, as represented in the obituaries of eventual farm owners Patrick Dailey and Tim Kineen. Other Irish immigrants to Lexington were Protestants from Irish counties in the North. Names like Wilson, Porter and Morrow became members of already established Protestant churches.
The one Irish-born farm owner in 1870 was Patrick Ryan from County Galway. Upon leaving Ireland in 1850, Ryan had married and settled in South Boston. After working for wages, he bought a sixty-seven acre farm in West Lexington, near Grove Street at today’s Fifer Lane. Tom Sileo in Open Space in Lexington notes Ryan’s sense of humor. He placed a sign on his house, “This is the house Paul Revere would have stopped at, if this was the way to Concord.” On Ryan’s a dairy farm eight cows produced 700 gallons of milk in 1870.
Hugh Maguire saved wages he earned in Concord and offered to purchase part of the Cutler farm located on Wood Street in 1864. But he ran into the ugly specter of anti-Irish prejudice--the Cutler family refused to sell to the Catholic MacGuires. Hugh and his brother Francis, however, were able to purchase the farm through a proxy, perhaps a sympathetic Lexingtonian.
Marie Galloway believes her grandfather, John Sullivan, also used a proxy, perhaps the Wellingtons, to buy his twenty-one acre 671 Massachusetts Avenue farm in 1908. Having emigrated from Ireland in the late 19th century, Sullivan eventually arrived labored on the Wellington Farm, digging potatoes near present-day Route 128. Later he raised pigs for market in Brighton and sold milk to Shanahan Dairy. His corn production became so impressive that Sullivan was dubbed “the corn king” and Boston Record American published a photo of him in the 1940s.
Patrick Dailey also rose from laborer to owner. He came to Lexington in 1848, having migrated from County Maeth and worked for Nathaniel Garmon as a stonecutter. Once he had accumulated enough money, he bought a fifteen-acre farm on Middle Street, now Marrett Road. His Lexington Minuteman’s 1890 obituary described a “faithful and honest man, true to his convictions of right, and ever willing to lend a helping hand to his neighbor.” Patrick Dailey’s was a dairy farm. His sons would later diversify the farm, adding a piggery.
In 1868 Tim Kineen bought two acres near Burlington Street. Two years later he added another thirty and in 1888 Kineen acquired an additional 132 acres. This large farm included today’s Kineen Park, covering land along Grove Street to Diamond Middle School. Kineen ran a diversified farm with thirty cows and a market garden. He was only one of several Lexington farmers who owned a lease for a stall at Boston’s Market. This Irish immigrant quickly became a respected town resident, known for his sober hard work. His 1905 Lexington Minuteman obituary pointedly praised these habits.
Wilson Farms began in 1884 when James Alexander Wilson, known as Alex, W. M. Wilson and his brother-in-law, George Reynolds purchased sixteen-acres on Pleasant Street for a market garden. Alex came to America from the northern County Fermanagh in 1877, probably with his father who made several trips from Ireland. His Protestant faith may have helped with assimilation into the town. Alex appears to not have been a farmer in Ireland. Like most market gardeners, they brought their produce daily to Boston’s Quincy Market in a horse drawn wagon.
In 1904 William Gleason put his nearby Fern Street farm up for sale. George Wilson, a cousin of the Pleasant Street Wilsons, seized the opportunity become a farm owner up the hill across Pleasant Street. Nestled in the hollow of Mt. Independence at the top of Follen Hill, the farm extended between Moreland Avenue and Follen Road. Wilson’s granddaughter, Ruth Doran remembered in a 1981 Lexington Minuteman article that earlier Moreland Avenue was simply a lane cut through the woods. Like his cousin, George Wilson also carried produce to Boston Market. His son John inherited the farm when George died. John married Daisy Parson and in 1926 deeded the farm to her. Today it is the Daisy Wilson Meadowland Conservation Area.
Alexander Porter hailed from County Donegal in the north of Ireland. His daughter Vi Pike remembered him as a straitlaced Orangeman, who annually celebrated the Battle of Boine in Wrentham. As a young man in Ireland, Alexander had secretly saved to travel to America. One day he bid good-bye to his parents and simply left. Upon arriving, he first lived in Woburn, working as a teamster. He met Elizabeth Wilson, who also came from County Donegal, at an Irish social event. They married and lived on Revere Street and in Irish village before purchasing their farm in 1905. At first he ran a modest market garden on his Lowell Street farm, but by the 1920s he owned five greenhouses with thirty-eight acres.
In 1922 Matthew Wilson bought an adjacent farm and joined with William and John Porter to own Porter Wilson Farm. Both Wilson and Porter took up residences on Adams Street. The farm, located where Fiske School and the Fiske Commons development now stands, eventually had twelve greenhouses. The greenhouses enabled the farm to produce cucumbers and tomatoes for Boston market throughout the year, and made the business profitable. Fresh cucumbers were popular in February. In season they grew carrots, potatoes, beets, onions and celery.
Indeed, the Irish helped keep farming alive until the next large immigrant group arrived in Lexington—the Italians.
Beginning in 1850 each succeeding U.S. Census reported fewer Lexingtonians who called themselves farmers. Yet the demand for farm labor actually increased since market conditions required larger, more specialized farms. Young people seeking work alternatives beyond the farm found options in the West along with the explosion of industrial and commercial opportunities in the cities. Even those who remained could now commute via railroad to Boston. This shrinking pool of native-born labor was a problem.
Fortunately, immigration brought foreign workers to Lexington, particularly the Irish. The census reveals that Lexington’s Irish in-migration began in 1840s and 1850s. Many worked initially on the Lexington and West Cambridge Railroad which began in 1846—the year following the onset of the first Irish potato famine. In the 1850s the Irish population doubled in Lexington and the 1864 Annual Report recorded fifty-six of ninety parents of newborns to be native to Ireland.
The 1850 census lists “laborer” under occupation for most Lexington Irish, often with a farm identified as the place of residence. Some worked seasonally, during a farm’s busiest times. Those who settled in town rented modest dwellings in the Woburn Street area nearest Massachusetts Avenue, soon called Irish Village. By 1875 some had purchased houses there.
Through hard work and thrift, some purchased farms, thus supplying an integral influx of new farm owners to Lexington. But this happened slowly. The 1860 U.S. census listed only three Irish of 112 Lexington farm owners: Patrick Fitzpatrick, James Crowley, and William Lowry. Fitzpatrick and Crowley owned modest farms, with the land valued at $3000. McGrath’s was smaller as it was assessed at $1000.
By 1880, however, the census listed seventeen residents as first generation Irish farm owners of 105 total farm families. This is an impressive number since most Irish arrived in dire poverty. Rising to farm ownership, they belied the shiftless, irresponsible stereotype harbored by many Lexington residents at the time.
Massachusetts residents of Yankee stock often displayed prejudice toward the Catholic Irish newcomers. Lexington was no exception. While Irish Village was the polite term for the Irish neighborhood in town, “Skunk Hollow,” along with less printable epithets, reflected a prevalent attitude. A distinction developed in Lexington Yankee minds between Irish laborers, who were seen a transient and shiftless, and those who displayed the value system prized by the natives, as represented in the obituaries of eventual farm owners Patrick Dailey and Tim Kineen. Other Irish immigrants to Lexington were Protestants from Irish counties in the North. Names like Wilson, Porter and Morrow became members of already established Protestant churches.
The one Irish-born farm owner in 1870 was Patrick Ryan from County Galway. Upon leaving Ireland in 1850, Ryan had married and settled in South Boston. After working for wages, he bought a sixty-seven acre farm in West Lexington, near Grove Street at today’s Fifer Lane. Tom Sileo in Open Space in Lexington notes Ryan’s sense of humor. He placed a sign on his house, “This is the house Paul Revere would have stopped at, if this was the way to Concord.” On Ryan’s a dairy farm eight cows produced 700 gallons of milk in 1870.
Hugh Maguire saved wages he earned in Concord and offered to purchase part of the Cutler farm located on Wood Street in 1864. But he ran into the ugly specter of anti-Irish prejudice--the Cutler family refused to sell to the Catholic MacGuires. Hugh and his brother Francis, however, were able to purchase the farm through a proxy, perhaps a sympathetic Lexingtonian.
Marie Galloway believes her grandfather, John Sullivan, also used a proxy, perhaps the Wellingtons, to buy his twenty-one acre 671 Massachusetts Avenue farm in 1908. Having emigrated from Ireland in the late 19th century, Sullivan eventually arrived labored on the Wellington Farm, digging potatoes near present-day Route 128. Later he raised pigs for market in Brighton and sold milk to Shanahan Dairy. His corn production became so impressive that Sullivan was dubbed “the corn king” and Boston Record American published a photo of him in the 1940s.
Patrick Dailey also rose from laborer to owner. He came to Lexington in 1848, having migrated from County Maeth and worked for Nathaniel Garmon as a stonecutter. Once he had accumulated enough money, he bought a fifteen-acre farm on Middle Street, now Marrett Road. His Lexington Minuteman’s 1890 obituary described a “faithful and honest man, true to his convictions of right, and ever willing to lend a helping hand to his neighbor.” Patrick Dailey’s was a dairy farm. His sons would later diversify the farm, adding a piggery.
In 1868 Tim Kineen bought two acres near Burlington Street. Two years later he added another thirty and in 1888 Kineen acquired an additional 132 acres. This large farm included today’s Kineen Park, covering land along Grove Street to Diamond Middle School. Kineen ran a diversified farm with thirty cows and a market garden. He was only one of several Lexington farmers who owned a lease for a stall at Boston’s Market. This Irish immigrant quickly became a respected town resident, known for his sober hard work. His 1905 Lexington Minuteman obituary pointedly praised these habits.
Wilson Farms began in 1884 when James Alexander Wilson, known as Alex, W. M. Wilson and his brother-in-law, George Reynolds purchased sixteen-acres on Pleasant Street for a market garden. Alex came to America from the northern County Fermanagh in 1877, probably with his father who made several trips from Ireland. His Protestant faith may have helped with assimilation into the town. Alex appears to not have been a farmer in Ireland. Like most market gardeners, they brought their produce daily to Boston’s Quincy Market in a horse drawn wagon.
In 1904 William Gleason put his nearby Fern Street farm up for sale. George Wilson, a cousin of the Pleasant Street Wilsons, seized the opportunity become a farm owner up the hill across Pleasant Street. Nestled in the hollow of Mt. Independence at the top of Follen Hill, the farm extended between Moreland Avenue and Follen Road. Wilson’s granddaughter, Ruth Doran remembered in a 1981 Lexington Minuteman article that earlier Moreland Avenue was simply a lane cut through the woods. Like his cousin, George Wilson also carried produce to Boston Market. His son John inherited the farm when George died. John married Daisy Parson and in 1926 deeded the farm to her. Today it is the Daisy Wilson Meadowland Conservation Area.
Alexander Porter hailed from County Donegal in the north of Ireland. His daughter Vi Pike remembered him as a straitlaced Orangeman, who annually celebrated the Battle of Boine in Wrentham. As a young man in Ireland, Alexander had secretly saved to travel to America. One day he bid good-bye to his parents and simply left. Upon arriving, he first lived in Woburn, working as a teamster. He met Elizabeth Wilson, who also came from County Donegal, at an Irish social event. They married and lived on Revere Street and in Irish village before purchasing their farm in 1905. At first he ran a modest market garden on his Lowell Street farm, but by the 1920s he owned five greenhouses with thirty-eight acres.
In 1922 Matthew Wilson bought an adjacent farm and joined with William and John Porter to own Porter Wilson Farm. Both Wilson and Porter took up residences on Adams Street. The farm, located where Fiske School and the Fiske Commons development now stands, eventually had twelve greenhouses. The greenhouses enabled the farm to produce cucumbers and tomatoes for Boston market throughout the year, and made the business profitable. Fresh cucumbers were popular in February. In season they grew carrots, potatoes, beets, onions and celery.
Indeed, the Irish helped keep farming alive until the next large immigrant group arrived in Lexington—the Italians.
July 3, 1799 - Revolutionary War Monument Dedicated
On July 3, 1799 the Revolutionary War monument was dedicated on Lexington Common. It is the earliest such monument of commemoration to common soldiers erected in the newly formed United States of America. (Several honoring fallen generals had
been erected earlier.) The monument’s dedication was the result of a process began twenty-two years earlier.
Shortly after the April 19, 1775 battle, some Lexington residents sought a monument, a free-standing memorial to their friends and kin who died there. Accordingly, in February 1777, town meeting responded by selecting a committee “to compute the cost of a suitable and decent monument to set over the graves of our brethren who fell as victims to the British tyranny on April 19, 1775.” Because seven of the eight who perished lay in the church cemetery at the time, the proposed monument was to take the form of a prominent marker there. (One of the eight had lived in Woburn and his body was moved to a cemetery there.)
Yet, although the town seemed intent on honoring its dead, the colonies were sinking ever more deeply into the debts of wartime. Lexington did not escape these economic travails. On May 22, 1777, town meeting asked the committee to suspend its report on the monument until the next meeting. In short, it appears that a gloomy economy rendered the additional cost prohibitive at that
time. No committee report survives.
The issue would not be taken up again until 1791. The war had been over since 1783, but the pain and pride of the battle still dwelled in the town’s living memory. Further, Lexingtonians knew by then that the event had been elevated above one of local importance to a place of major significance in the national identity. Accordingly, on April 4, 1791, the town chose a committee to “present a memorial or petition to Congress.” Much like the earlier plan, it urged that a monument be erected over the grave in the church burial ground. On the committee were Rev. Jonas Clarke, town minister, and Joseph Simonds, who had served as an
ensign in Captain Parker’s company and was Lexington’s representative to the Massachusetts General Court. What became of the petition once it reached the U.S. Congress is not known.
Town meeting returned to the question in 1795. On May 2 it chose a committee of three to “take into consideration the matter respecting the erecting of a monument over the graves” of the martyrs. Then a significant shift took place. After due deliberation the committee urged the town to erect such a monument” over the graves “or in any other place” and “to grant money for the same.”
The alternative site would no doubt be to a more prominent location. The town common, village focal point where the battle was fought, seemed promising, all the more so the following year, when the school building was moved from Schoolhouse Hill,
leaving a vacancy at a slightly raised elevation on the village green.
Lexington now turned to Massachusetts for help. In 1797, Joseph Simonds petitioned the state legislature to fund a suitable monument for “8 of our brethren [who] fell victim.” Having noted that an earlier request to Congress had “miscarried,” the
petition made clear that the town was asking for simply a “decent and durable” memorial, nothing fancy or expensive. (Later generations would deplore the monument’s plainness.)
Simonds made his case for appealing to the state legislature by arguing for the greater propriety of having a monument erected under “the patronage of the General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts than a single town,” inasmuch as “the cause of liberty is a public cause.”
The General Court accommodated the town’s request, allocating the sum of $200 for the purpose of preserving “for posterity a record of the first efforts made by the people of America for the establishment of freedom & independence.”
The funding subsequently proved insufficient and was supplemented the following year (1798) with an additional $200. The entire sum went to Thomas Park, stonecutter, to pay for his work. Even that sum proved inadequate. Thus the state allocated yet a
third sum, of $295.92, “to perpetuate the memorable battle fought there,” to be paid directly to Mr. Park, whose expenses had “amounted to nearly $700” in all.
The monument took the form of a granite obelisk, to eighteenth-century sensibilities a familiar shape for memorials. At the time the Egyptian symbol commonly venerated fallen heroes. The slate tablet on the side, provided for an inscription, was large
enough to contain a lengthy sentiment; and the choice of who would write that sentiment would have surprised no one. Who could more appropriately contextualize the monument’s meaning than Rev. Jonas Clarke? Clarke’s inscription listed the eight militia, seven from Lexington and one from Woburn, who died on the Common on “the morning of the ever memorable” April 19, 1775. The Revolution had begun here: after that precious blood was spilled, “The Die was Cast!!!”
The stonecutter’s commission was not the only expense connected with the enterprise, but the village willingly bore the further cost. The first item on the town warrant in March 1799 sought funding “raising the monument.” This included ropes and refreshments for volunteers to grade Schoolhouse Hill, which was broader then, but was no more than a knoll after being made ready to receive the memorial. The granite obelisk stands now where it was erected, on the southwest corner of the Common, its slate tablet replaced with one of marble in 1835.
July 4, already the nation’s most important holiday, would have seemed the logical time to dedicate the new memorial. According to Jonas Clarke’s diary, however, “public prayers” and an oration by the minister’s son-in-law Rev. Thaddeus Fiske of West Cambridge (Arlington), took place on July 3, and volunteers “finished raising the monument” the following day.
Fiske began his speech with an apology, fearful that it might fail to meet expectations. He had written it on short notice, and was standing “in the place of another,” of “superior abilities, knowledge and experience,” who was unable to speak because of “indispositions and infirmities.” No doubt Rev. Jonas Clarke was the person alluded to. In late May, Clarke had written in his diary
of being beset with gout in his hand and foot. His maladies did not keep him from traveling to Boston on June 26, to get approval from the legislature for the inscription he had written.
been erected earlier.) The monument’s dedication was the result of a process began twenty-two years earlier.
Shortly after the April 19, 1775 battle, some Lexington residents sought a monument, a free-standing memorial to their friends and kin who died there. Accordingly, in February 1777, town meeting responded by selecting a committee “to compute the cost of a suitable and decent monument to set over the graves of our brethren who fell as victims to the British tyranny on April 19, 1775.” Because seven of the eight who perished lay in the church cemetery at the time, the proposed monument was to take the form of a prominent marker there. (One of the eight had lived in Woburn and his body was moved to a cemetery there.)
Yet, although the town seemed intent on honoring its dead, the colonies were sinking ever more deeply into the debts of wartime. Lexington did not escape these economic travails. On May 22, 1777, town meeting asked the committee to suspend its report on the monument until the next meeting. In short, it appears that a gloomy economy rendered the additional cost prohibitive at that
time. No committee report survives.
The issue would not be taken up again until 1791. The war had been over since 1783, but the pain and pride of the battle still dwelled in the town’s living memory. Further, Lexingtonians knew by then that the event had been elevated above one of local importance to a place of major significance in the national identity. Accordingly, on April 4, 1791, the town chose a committee to “present a memorial or petition to Congress.” Much like the earlier plan, it urged that a monument be erected over the grave in the church burial ground. On the committee were Rev. Jonas Clarke, town minister, and Joseph Simonds, who had served as an
ensign in Captain Parker’s company and was Lexington’s representative to the Massachusetts General Court. What became of the petition once it reached the U.S. Congress is not known.
Town meeting returned to the question in 1795. On May 2 it chose a committee of three to “take into consideration the matter respecting the erecting of a monument over the graves” of the martyrs. Then a significant shift took place. After due deliberation the committee urged the town to erect such a monument” over the graves “or in any other place” and “to grant money for the same.”
The alternative site would no doubt be to a more prominent location. The town common, village focal point where the battle was fought, seemed promising, all the more so the following year, when the school building was moved from Schoolhouse Hill,
leaving a vacancy at a slightly raised elevation on the village green.
Lexington now turned to Massachusetts for help. In 1797, Joseph Simonds petitioned the state legislature to fund a suitable monument for “8 of our brethren [who] fell victim.” Having noted that an earlier request to Congress had “miscarried,” the
petition made clear that the town was asking for simply a “decent and durable” memorial, nothing fancy or expensive. (Later generations would deplore the monument’s plainness.)
Simonds made his case for appealing to the state legislature by arguing for the greater propriety of having a monument erected under “the patronage of the General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts than a single town,” inasmuch as “the cause of liberty is a public cause.”
The General Court accommodated the town’s request, allocating the sum of $200 for the purpose of preserving “for posterity a record of the first efforts made by the people of America for the establishment of freedom & independence.”
The funding subsequently proved insufficient and was supplemented the following year (1798) with an additional $200. The entire sum went to Thomas Park, stonecutter, to pay for his work. Even that sum proved inadequate. Thus the state allocated yet a
third sum, of $295.92, “to perpetuate the memorable battle fought there,” to be paid directly to Mr. Park, whose expenses had “amounted to nearly $700” in all.
The monument took the form of a granite obelisk, to eighteenth-century sensibilities a familiar shape for memorials. At the time the Egyptian symbol commonly venerated fallen heroes. The slate tablet on the side, provided for an inscription, was large
enough to contain a lengthy sentiment; and the choice of who would write that sentiment would have surprised no one. Who could more appropriately contextualize the monument’s meaning than Rev. Jonas Clarke? Clarke’s inscription listed the eight militia, seven from Lexington and one from Woburn, who died on the Common on “the morning of the ever memorable” April 19, 1775. The Revolution had begun here: after that precious blood was spilled, “The Die was Cast!!!”
The stonecutter’s commission was not the only expense connected with the enterprise, but the village willingly bore the further cost. The first item on the town warrant in March 1799 sought funding “raising the monument.” This included ropes and refreshments for volunteers to grade Schoolhouse Hill, which was broader then, but was no more than a knoll after being made ready to receive the memorial. The granite obelisk stands now where it was erected, on the southwest corner of the Common, its slate tablet replaced with one of marble in 1835.
July 4, already the nation’s most important holiday, would have seemed the logical time to dedicate the new memorial. According to Jonas Clarke’s diary, however, “public prayers” and an oration by the minister’s son-in-law Rev. Thaddeus Fiske of West Cambridge (Arlington), took place on July 3, and volunteers “finished raising the monument” the following day.
Fiske began his speech with an apology, fearful that it might fail to meet expectations. He had written it on short notice, and was standing “in the place of another,” of “superior abilities, knowledge and experience,” who was unable to speak because of “indispositions and infirmities.” No doubt Rev. Jonas Clarke was the person alluded to. In late May, Clarke had written in his diary
of being beset with gout in his hand and foot. His maladies did not keep him from traveling to Boston on June 26, to get approval from the legislature for the inscription he had written.
June 8, 1913 - Lexington's 200th Anniversary Celebration
Ninety-nine years ago next week Lexington began its 200th anniversary celebration. Called “a gala” event by The Boston Globe, it spanned three days, beginning on June 8, 1913, a Sunday. On Monday and Tuesday the town cancelled school and closed local businesses. The bicentennial of Lexington’s incorporation was clearly an event of great moment.
Each day had a designated theme and Sunday was “History Day.” Like those of the 300th celebration, the opening ceremony was oversubscribed, forcing many residents who gathered in the town hall to stand. The town hall was located then near where CVS stands today. Alonzo E. Locke, the chairman of the committee planning the celebration presided and introduced the “orator” for the day, Rev. Edward Cummings of Cambridge. Cummings wryly chose Lexington’s future as the topic for his talk, “Looking Forward.” In it, he predicted that Lexington “will grow into a city and the little village will be a thing of the past.” Although inaccurate in his first prediction, he proved prescient regarding the second. James Phinney Munroe and Professor David Muzzey also spoke.
“Old Home Day” or “Sports Day” on Day Two included a variety of sporting activities, as well as open houses for the many clubs and organizations in town. On Tuesday, Day Three, the celebration concluded with “Military Day.” It began with a 100 gun salute at 6AM. Then Herbert G. Locke serving as the town crier rode in a “one-horse chaise” along Paul Revere’s route beginning in East Lexington and culminating at the battle green, where school children serenaded him by singing “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” A car filled with a double male quartet followed the town crier, stopping periodically to serenade early-rising Lexington residents gathered along the way. Later, the Massachusetts governor and the mayor of Boston reviewed a parade that included the Lexington Minutemen, among other companies dressed in Continental Army uniforms. The 200th anniversary celebration closed with a band concert on the illuminated battle green.
The June 8-10, 1913 event surely provided lasting memories to all involved. The little village of about 5,500 has grown in the ninety-nine years to almost reach a population of 32,000 today, just as Rev. Cummings predicted.
Each day had a designated theme and Sunday was “History Day.” Like those of the 300th celebration, the opening ceremony was oversubscribed, forcing many residents who gathered in the town hall to stand. The town hall was located then near where CVS stands today. Alonzo E. Locke, the chairman of the committee planning the celebration presided and introduced the “orator” for the day, Rev. Edward Cummings of Cambridge. Cummings wryly chose Lexington’s future as the topic for his talk, “Looking Forward.” In it, he predicted that Lexington “will grow into a city and the little village will be a thing of the past.” Although inaccurate in his first prediction, he proved prescient regarding the second. James Phinney Munroe and Professor David Muzzey also spoke.
“Old Home Day” or “Sports Day” on Day Two included a variety of sporting activities, as well as open houses for the many clubs and organizations in town. On Tuesday, Day Three, the celebration concluded with “Military Day.” It began with a 100 gun salute at 6AM. Then Herbert G. Locke serving as the town crier rode in a “one-horse chaise” along Paul Revere’s route beginning in East Lexington and culminating at the battle green, where school children serenaded him by singing “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” A car filled with a double male quartet followed the town crier, stopping periodically to serenade early-rising Lexington residents gathered along the way. Later, the Massachusetts governor and the mayor of Boston reviewed a parade that included the Lexington Minutemen, among other companies dressed in Continental Army uniforms. The 200th anniversary celebration closed with a band concert on the illuminated battle green.
The June 8-10, 1913 event surely provided lasting memories to all involved. The little village of about 5,500 has grown in the ninety-nine years to almost reach a population of 32,000 today, just as Rev. Cummings predicted.
May 8, 1854 - Town Meeting Appropriation for First Lexington High School
On May 8, 1854 town meeting appropriated $500 to establish its first high school. It had become accepted pedagogical wisdom that older students needed to have specialized classes and instruction. Since the adoption and funding of this institution was hotly debated in town meeting, it opened its doors in 1855 on a trial basis. Twenty girls and ten boys comprised the first class of Lexington High School. The only classroom was the town hall’s upper chamber, originally intended as a committee room. Those towns with high schools often offered similar accommodations. The first Woburn High School opened in 1852 in a room above a store. Lexington’s town hall had been built in 1846 on the grounds of the present Muzzey Condominiums. When Lexington’s second high school, Muzzey High School, was constructed in 1902, the pillars from the old town hall flanked its entrance. The stone cannon seen today is also a remnant of the original town hall property.
Mary Hudson, a member of the high school’s first class, remembered the school’s spartan conditions in the Lexington Historical Society Proceedings, v. III. With only one side of the room containing windows, light in the classroom emanated only from the direction. During the winter of 1855-56, students suffered from the cold, despite the presence of a stove. Due to wind blowing in from gaps in the floorboards, “pieces of carpeting, thick shawls and hot soap stones were placed under our feet.” One day a student put a cup of water on the floor to see how quickly it would freeze. It did not take long. Nonetheless, the students gladly studied under their first teacher, George Washington Dow, who they considered mediocre, but diligent. Another student, Alice Goodwin, remembers that because Dow boarded nearby, he amused the students by frequently “wearing a long, highly-colored cashmere dressing gown” and slippers. The subjects students studied included Latin, French, history, rhetoric, grammar, and natural sciences. The students even issued a newspaper, The Scholars Offering, on a weekly basis. More literary than news oriented, it was written in manuscript, since it predated the typewriter. Despite its meager facilities, the high school thrived, operating continuously as an institution up to the present.
Mary Hudson, a member of the high school’s first class, remembered the school’s spartan conditions in the Lexington Historical Society Proceedings, v. III. With only one side of the room containing windows, light in the classroom emanated only from the direction. During the winter of 1855-56, students suffered from the cold, despite the presence of a stove. Due to wind blowing in from gaps in the floorboards, “pieces of carpeting, thick shawls and hot soap stones were placed under our feet.” One day a student put a cup of water on the floor to see how quickly it would freeze. It did not take long. Nonetheless, the students gladly studied under their first teacher, George Washington Dow, who they considered mediocre, but diligent. Another student, Alice Goodwin, remembers that because Dow boarded nearby, he amused the students by frequently “wearing a long, highly-colored cashmere dressing gown” and slippers. The subjects students studied included Latin, French, history, rhetoric, grammar, and natural sciences. The students even issued a newspaper, The Scholars Offering, on a weekly basis. More literary than news oriented, it was written in manuscript, since it predated the typewriter. Despite its meager facilities, the high school thrived, operating continuously as an institution up to the present.
April 14, 1845 - Lexington and West Cambridge Railroad
On April 14, 1845, at Cutler’s Tavern in East Lexington a group of civic-minded Lexington and West Cambridge (Arlington) residents accepted an act of incorporation to fund the “Lexington and West Cambridge Railroad.” The meeting chose Larkin Turner president and selected a committee of nine to collect subscriptions to the capital stock. Lexington tavern-owner Benjamin Muzzey proved the most effective in soliciting the start up money. He later became the corporation’s president until his untimely death in 1848. Muzzey was the moving force behind Lexington’s interest in securing connection to a railroad line.
Before the railroad Lexington was a town of taverns—as many as twelve at one time. Most sat along today’s Massachusetts
Avenue, which drovers and teamsters traversed enroute to Boston markets or the Brighton stockyards. Wagons traveling to Boston filled with southern New Hampshire produce and home manufactures, returned with West India sugar, spices
and calicoes. Drovers led cattle and sheep in both directions. As long as traffic kicked up dust along those roads, these taverns prospered. But by the second decade of the 19th century, the Lowell and Concord Turnpikes, as well as the Middlesex Canal, had
refocused traffic from the center to the periphery.
For Benjamin Muzzey, interest in creating a Lexington branch railroad sprung from several motivations. First, he wanted to
commerce to once again move through the town center to benefit businesses there, not the least of which was his Monument House. In fact, he planned to rebuild the facility into a much larger hotel, called Muzzey’s Hotel. It would open 1848, two years after the railroad opened in Lexington.
Second, civic concern led him to want Lexington to be a progressive town. Railroads had become the wave of the future and Lexington was still a sleepy farming community with several mills, two active taverns, and some blacksmith shops. Two or three
stores stood in the Center Village and one in East village. By 1835 railroads from Boston to Worcester, Lowell and Providence had begun rail service in Massachusetts. In 1843 the Fitchburg Railroad began service to Boston, leading to the creation of several short branch railroads designed to connect towns left off the main line. Muzzey saw the opportunity to energize Lexington
commercially.
Finally, he had learned of a short railroad line being considered in an adjacent town, making an extension of a few miles an easy prospect. By 1844 businessmen of West Cambridge, today Arlington, had organized to plan a railroad. It would only require two miles of track to connect to the Charlestown and Fresh Pond Railroad in Cambridge. From Fresh Pond a connection could be made to Boston. Having contacted the officers of the Charlestown Branch, leading men in West Cambridge were waiting for a reply.
Muzzey quickly organized. A group of Lexington citizens approached the Charlestown branch to delay its response to West
Cambridge. A Lexington line might take the same route. When the competing groups petitioned the Massachusetts General Court for enabling acts, the state legislature merged the two railroads---thus the name the Lexington and West Cambridge Railroad Company.
The charter specified that the train end “near the [1799 monument [to the fallen militia members on April 19].” This would place the terminus at Hancock or Bedford Street. But Rufus Meriam refused to sell Buckman Tavern and its lot. Instead he offered the two-acre parcel on which Lexington Depot now stands. A subsequent lawsuit brought by some stockholders claimed violation of
the charter. It failed. The total cost of the completed road was $218,500. Payments to residents for land along the right of way proved costly as many drove a hard bargain. Only Benjamin Muzzey offered land gratis.
The railroad changed Lexington’s population. One of two events that profoundly transformed the town’s demographics (the other was route 128), it brought a new commuter business class to the town, many of whom built houses near railroad stations. Merriam Hill and Bloomfield Street were two areas that grew as a result of commuters who worked in Boston, but found Lexington a
congenial place to live.
Before the railroad Lexington was a town of taverns—as many as twelve at one time. Most sat along today’s Massachusetts
Avenue, which drovers and teamsters traversed enroute to Boston markets or the Brighton stockyards. Wagons traveling to Boston filled with southern New Hampshire produce and home manufactures, returned with West India sugar, spices
and calicoes. Drovers led cattle and sheep in both directions. As long as traffic kicked up dust along those roads, these taverns prospered. But by the second decade of the 19th century, the Lowell and Concord Turnpikes, as well as the Middlesex Canal, had
refocused traffic from the center to the periphery.
For Benjamin Muzzey, interest in creating a Lexington branch railroad sprung from several motivations. First, he wanted to
commerce to once again move through the town center to benefit businesses there, not the least of which was his Monument House. In fact, he planned to rebuild the facility into a much larger hotel, called Muzzey’s Hotel. It would open 1848, two years after the railroad opened in Lexington.
Second, civic concern led him to want Lexington to be a progressive town. Railroads had become the wave of the future and Lexington was still a sleepy farming community with several mills, two active taverns, and some blacksmith shops. Two or three
stores stood in the Center Village and one in East village. By 1835 railroads from Boston to Worcester, Lowell and Providence had begun rail service in Massachusetts. In 1843 the Fitchburg Railroad began service to Boston, leading to the creation of several short branch railroads designed to connect towns left off the main line. Muzzey saw the opportunity to energize Lexington
commercially.
Finally, he had learned of a short railroad line being considered in an adjacent town, making an extension of a few miles an easy prospect. By 1844 businessmen of West Cambridge, today Arlington, had organized to plan a railroad. It would only require two miles of track to connect to the Charlestown and Fresh Pond Railroad in Cambridge. From Fresh Pond a connection could be made to Boston. Having contacted the officers of the Charlestown Branch, leading men in West Cambridge were waiting for a reply.
Muzzey quickly organized. A group of Lexington citizens approached the Charlestown branch to delay its response to West
Cambridge. A Lexington line might take the same route. When the competing groups petitioned the Massachusetts General Court for enabling acts, the state legislature merged the two railroads---thus the name the Lexington and West Cambridge Railroad Company.
The charter specified that the train end “near the [1799 monument [to the fallen militia members on April 19].” This would place the terminus at Hancock or Bedford Street. But Rufus Meriam refused to sell Buckman Tavern and its lot. Instead he offered the two-acre parcel on which Lexington Depot now stands. A subsequent lawsuit brought by some stockholders claimed violation of
the charter. It failed. The total cost of the completed road was $218,500. Payments to residents for land along the right of way proved costly as many drove a hard bargain. Only Benjamin Muzzey offered land gratis.
The railroad changed Lexington’s population. One of two events that profoundly transformed the town’s demographics (the other was route 128), it brought a new commuter business class to the town, many of whom built houses near railroad stations. Merriam Hill and Bloomfield Street were two areas that grew as a result of commuters who worked in Boston, but found Lexington a
congenial place to live.
March 11, 1793 - Town Meeting Votes to Replace Current Meetinghouse
On March 11, 1793 Lexington town meeting voted to replace the current meetinghouse with its third meetinghouse, the last to occupy the Common. Many regretted tearing down the second meetinghouse, a building that had served them since 1713. But residents wanted their church to conform to modern taste, which should include a prominent steeple. More pragmatically, the town’s population stood at 450 residents upon construction of the second meetinghouse in 1713. By 1793 it must have been overflowing with Lexington’s population standing at 950. This remained the only meetinghouse in town.
The total cost of the new building ran about $6000. A generous contribution of $100 came from Governor John Hancock, whose ties to Lexington reached back to his childhood. He attended the second meetinghouse while living with his grandfather, Rev. John Hancock. Rev. Jonas Clarke, whose pastorate followed Hancock’s in 1755, made a modest contribution equivalent to about $30. He also contributed a timber that was used for a post, a gesture full of symbolic meaning.
Sited on the Common, several yards further northwest of its 1713 predecessor, the pea green church’s front porch and bell tower faced Buckman Tavern. Stone posts connected by a chain enabled parishioners to tie up horses. The building’s footprint ran sixty-four feet by fifty feet. A three-sided gallery filled the upper level, with the center space reserved for the choir, while paupers and African Americans occupied the west side. Benches were placed in front of the pulpit, with the remaining space dedicated to family pews. On June 11 the congregation raised the building, an arduous and dangerous task. Clarke wrote in his diary, “Raising the New Meeting House No fatal Accidents Deo Gratia!!” The third meetinghouse stood until 1846 when it burned down.
The total cost of the new building ran about $6000. A generous contribution of $100 came from Governor John Hancock, whose ties to Lexington reached back to his childhood. He attended the second meetinghouse while living with his grandfather, Rev. John Hancock. Rev. Jonas Clarke, whose pastorate followed Hancock’s in 1755, made a modest contribution equivalent to about $30. He also contributed a timber that was used for a post, a gesture full of symbolic meaning.
Sited on the Common, several yards further northwest of its 1713 predecessor, the pea green church’s front porch and bell tower faced Buckman Tavern. Stone posts connected by a chain enabled parishioners to tie up horses. The building’s footprint ran sixty-four feet by fifty feet. A three-sided gallery filled the upper level, with the center space reserved for the choir, while paupers and African Americans occupied the west side. Benches were placed in front of the pulpit, with the remaining space dedicated to family pews. On June 11 the congregation raised the building, an arduous and dangerous task. Clarke wrote in his diary, “Raising the New Meeting House No fatal Accidents Deo Gratia!!” The third meetinghouse stood until 1846 when it burned down.
February 11, 1963 - Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. Speaks in Lexington
Twelve hundred spectators packed the Lexington High School auditorium on Monday, February 11, 1963 to hear Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. speak--forty-nine years ago this week. By then a national figure, King would occupy a Birmingham jail in April and electrify over 200,000 supporters with his dream for America on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in August. In Lexington King spoke for ninety minutes without notes, covering a range of topics from the history of segregation to the power of economic boycotts to the necessity of clergy participating more actively in the Movement.
In fact, at that time local clergy led the Lexington Civil Rights Committee (LCRC), who had arranged King’s visit. Reverend Thomas MacLeod, of St. Brigids chaired the LCRC and Reverend Landon T. Lindsay of the Methodist Church, served as treasurer. Earlier, Lexington Protestant and Jewish clergy had issued a joint statement advocating civil disobedience against the Boston Public Schools’ de facto segregation. In 1964 and 1965 several Lexington ministers and priests were arrested in the South while demonstrating for civil rights.
Another Lexington-King connection came from one of his favorite expressions: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” This actually paraphrases the words of Lexington-born, 19th century abolitionist and Unitarian minister, Theodore Parker. Parker, of course, was the grandson of militia Captain John Parker. King no doubt studied Parker in his theological studies at Boston University.
This column will be updated monthly.
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In fact, at that time local clergy led the Lexington Civil Rights Committee (LCRC), who had arranged King’s visit. Reverend Thomas MacLeod, of St. Brigids chaired the LCRC and Reverend Landon T. Lindsay of the Methodist Church, served as treasurer. Earlier, Lexington Protestant and Jewish clergy had issued a joint statement advocating civil disobedience against the Boston Public Schools’ de facto segregation. In 1964 and 1965 several Lexington ministers and priests were arrested in the South while demonstrating for civil rights.
Another Lexington-King connection came from one of his favorite expressions: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” This actually paraphrases the words of Lexington-born, 19th century abolitionist and Unitarian minister, Theodore Parker. Parker, of course, was the grandson of militia Captain John Parker. King no doubt studied Parker in his theological studies at Boston University.
This column will be updated monthly.
Back to Home
