Category Archives: Culture

Nancy Drew & the Peabody Sisters of Salem

What do a fictional detective and three very real women of mid-nineteenth century Salem have in common? Well, books have been written about them, and in certain editions of these books there are silhouette endpapers. That’s it, that’s the post. Well not really, there’s a bit more I want to say but mostly I want to show. When I was a girl my very favorite books after my Black Beauty and Little House on the Prairie phases were Nancy Drew mysteries. I had a whole bunch and always wanted more. Most of my Nancy Drews were later editions—1960s and 1970s I think—and they weren’t great- looking books to tell you the truth. Nancy was on the cover, in whatever setting she was dealing with in that volume, and inside were some boring oval portraits. So I didn’t really think about the books at all, just Nancy. Then someone gave me an older book, it must have been one of the first editions of the series, and inside were these amazing endpapers of orange silhouettes! I remember distinctly thinking at the time, wow, older is better, older is (more vivid, more creative, more rare, more CRAFTED) better. So then I wanted more older Nancy Drews, of course, Nancy Drew BOOKS, not just Nancy Drews. I had also become more concious of what a book was as an object, or I should say simply conscious. So I sought out the orange silhouette endpapers (and found some more red than orange), then black ones, which came a bit later, and then finally “the diggger” depictions which are not quite silhouettes but still cool.

My Nancy Drew endpaper obsession continued on for quite some time, but I progressed to other books, including Louise Hall  Tharp’s Peabody Sisters of Salem, about Elizabeth, Mary, and Sophia Peabody of Salem, who had interesting Salem childhoods with their teacher parents and led quite engaging adult lives.. Elizabeth was an early childhood education pioneer and Transcendentalist, Mary was also very focused on educational reform, and wrote several books, though she is perhaps best known as the second wife of the “father of public education” Horace Mann. Sophia was an artist before her marriage to her fellow Salemite Nathaniel Hawthorne. (Sophia always seemed like the least interesting of the three sisters to me, but as she was married to Hawthorne she gets more attention). A more scholarly book on the Peabody sisters was published by Megan Marshall in 2005, but my heart belongs to the Tharp book, which I read and reread as a teenager. I was captivated by her ability to capture the sisters’ world (s), and I’ve always had a rather undistinguished copy in my bedside bookshelf. But last month, I came across a special sleeved 1980 Book of the Month Club/The American Past edition online, and promptly purchased it (books in sleeves are always a treat). When it arrived, I was thrilled to see its beautiful Salem-silhouette cover, but inside, a big surprise: endpaper silhouettes of the entire Peabody family! Apparently these are from a selection of  “Dr. Nathaniel Peabody & Family. Profiles drawn from life Nov. 8, 1835” in the collection of the former Essex Institute/current Peabody Essex Museum. I just love them: a special summer surprise.


The Bowman House

We were vacationing in midcoast Maine last week so I took the opportunity to visit Historic New England’s newest property, the Bowman House, with a few friends. We also saw the nearby Pownalborough Court House, which is one of the most extraordinary Colonial buildings I have ever encountered. The Bowman House is in Dresden, right on what was a very busy Kennebec River short at the time of its construction in the mid-eighteenth century. Now it sits amongst tranquil rolling lawn: this photograph is of the rear, of course; the front entrance looks upon the River.

The house is a very high-style Georgian construction, the type you see built in shipbuilding centers. It has a very charming air about it, partially provided by the architecture, but also by the restoration and decoration, which was the work of Bill Waters, who worked and lived in the house for decades. He died in 2016, after having donated the house to Historic New England with the qualification of lifetime tenure. So even though this house was built in 1762 for Joshua Bowman, a judge with Hancock connections, it really felt like Bill Water’s 21st century Georgian house: his personality shined through both his preservation efforts and his possessions. Since I’ve been working for Historic New England myself this summer, I’ve been thinking about the differences between the work of a tour guide and a professor, and one major one is that the work of the former is a lot more personal: you’re talking to and with smaller groups about more intimate stories rather than trends, causes and consequences. Historic New England’s interpretion focuses on the people who lived in its houses as much as their architectural history, and “Bill’s house” is a great example. (Although our guide did introduce us to local master builder Gershom Flagg, who built both the Bowman House and the Pownalborough Courthouses, and now I am obsessed!) Bill Waters came to the house through the Burrage sisters, Mildred and Madeleine, notable artists and world travelers who moved to Wiscasset in 1962 and became interested in the region’s historic architecture. In 1961 they purchased the Bowman House, and sold it to Waters several years later, and he and his life partner Cyrus Pinkham began their life’s (house) work. 

Bill Waters with Bowman descendant Florence Bixby and the Burrage Sisters in 1968 (Maine Historical Society), and more recently.

So let’s go into the house, shall we? You enter through a single-story sun room which was likely a nineteenth-century addition (the house served as the office for an ice-supply business in the later 19th century) and then into the kitchen and a series of first-floor parlors and dining room adjoining a spacious central hallway—wonderful reproduction wallpapers throughout, including the pillar-and-arch paper that I think is also in Hamilton House? Throughout his tenure, Waters worked to bring as many period-appropriate and/or Bowen furnishings into the house, and everything seems perfect and very colorful, but also very, very livable.

There are several spaces in which he seems like he just stepped away…….like the bar (above) and lots of whimsy, like the feathers on his canopy bed (below). Artful assembly throughout, and very special mirrors!

We exited through the sunroom, a very comfortable space which reveals Waters’ appreciation of trade signs (as well as his southern roots, represented by a small image of General Robert E. Lee) and then drove down the road to the Courthouse: wow! Photographs don’t quite represent the scale of this 1761 building.


Miss Abbott’s Albums

Summers have been about old Salem photographs for the past several years. I go up to the Phillips Library to research something, order up a few old photograph albums to give myself a break, and then just dive in to another world, another Salem. Last year I really had to restrict myself as I was still wrting chapters for our forthcoming book Salem’s Centuries; this year the book is essentially done so I’m just looking for a few images to illustrate it, or so I tell myself. Really, I just like to look at old photographs. Last week I looked through the three albums of Miss Lilly S. Abbott, a librarian at the Salem Public Library, who began her tenure in 1925 and rose through the positions of assistant, children’s librarian, reference librarian, acting director and assistant director over her 47 years at the library. She was obviously a committed collector and curator of photographs, choosing very important images for her albums, and labeling them on the front or back. She supplied photographs to the Salem Evening News, and also to the Salem Cultural Council’s exhibition of “Salem Streets and People” in 1971. Some of her photos I had seen before, but many were new to me. I sharpened up a few photographs below, but most of her photos were very clear and had been processed from lantern slides very effectively. Unlike a lot of Salem photographers and photography collectors, she was obviously more focused on Salem streets and people than on structures: most of her album photos feature downtown, and she obviously loved the Willows too.

Here are some of my favorites: first, a group of photos of downtown Salem—some are dated, most are not, but I think they’re from about 1900-1920, beginning with this great photo of Ash Street in 1900. Urban Renewal wiped Ash Street out, and now it only has one house!

Ash Street, Crombie Street, Essex Street, Norman Street, North Street and Bridge, Washington Street.

Here’s a few of Derby Street, including the Philadelphia wharf—-I was very excited to see this as it was built by the man who lived in my house. Plus, David Little on his “Little Steamer,” Salem’s first automobile! (Miss Abbott seems to have been very interested in transportation).

On to the Willows: including interior and exterior shots of the famous Brown’s Flying Horses carousel, in situ in Salem until 1945.

Some odds and ends: the only photos of famed Chestnut Street in Miss Abbott’s albums are very different: a car driving west, which to us will look like the wrong way, as it is one-way the other way now, and the day after the fire that destroyed Samuel McIntire’s Second Church in 1903. I’ve never seen this. Then there’s the Tontine building on Warren Street, destroyed by the Great Salem Fire in 1914, and a great photo of the Gedney House on High Street before its acquisition and restoration by Historic New England. Finally, Old Home Week, always a BIG celebration in Salem, in 1909. I’m grateful to Miss Abbott for preserving these wonderful images of Salem streets and people.

Town House Square, 1909.

Lily S. Abbott Photographic Albums (PHA 113). Couresy of Miss Abbott and the Phillips Library of the Peabody Essex Museum, Rowley, Massachusetts. Miss Abbott donated the albums to the Essex Institute in Salem in 1981 in memory of her brother, William.


The Troublesome Girls

A few weeks ago, a social media post popped up on my feeds from Destination Salem, our city’s official tourism office, featuring two young women dressed in garish costumes with giggly grins. They were/are wannabe “girl historians” (actually not historians at all) visiting Salem to promote their current podcast series, a comedy on the Salem Witch Trials. I was taken aback; you see and hear all sorts of exploitative expressions about 1692 in Salem, but seldom from “official” parties, which tend to walk a finer line. I reposted, along with a statement about how absolutely funny the witch trials were, and the next day the post disappeared. I had captured a screen shot, however, and here it is.

I was kind of angry when I captured the screen shot, but over the following week I just forgot about it. I really didn’t want to invest much time into something that seemed kind of silly. I tried to listen to the “girls,” but all I can say is: there are many great history podcasts, a lot of great podcasts by real historians who happen to be women, and several great podcasts on the Salem witch trials, and their podcast falls into none of those categories. But it’s not about them, really; it’s about Salem, because Destination Salem represents the City, and by extension, its residents. The photograph above kept dwelling in the back of my mind (rent-free!) and after a while I realized that it was conjuring up memories of another photograph, or series of photographs. There was a huge spread in Life magazine in September of 1949 on Marian Starkey’s groundbreaking new book, The Devil in Massachusetts: a Modern Enquiry into the Salem Witch Trials, which featured very evocative photographs of Salem sites and the “Salem girls” by photographer Nina Leen. Now these photos were dress-up promotion, just like the photo of the “girl historians” above, but what a difference! The subtlety and poignancy and starkness represent respect of a tragedy, rather than the craven commercialization of a “comedy”. The promotion of an insignificant podcast seems so small, pathetic actually, when compared with a multi-page spread in a national periodical, so much so that the event itself seems reduced in significance. Funny how that happened.

Nina Leen photographs, Life Magazine, September 1949.


Salem Garden Stroll 2024

So sorry I’ve been MIA for the last couple of weeks; this summer is turning out to be one of the busiest I’ve had in years! Everything snuck up on me: I’ve been teaching a summer grad class, working at the Phillips House, preparing a robust schedule of presentations, researching Salem’s “revolutionary summer” AND Renaissance saffron, and prepping my garden for the Salem Garden Club’s biennial “Stroll,” which happened just this past weekend. I thought this was going to be a calm, “off” summer as I am not working on a book, but that has not been the case. I think I’m all caught up and in control now, but we shall see. I have some interesting topics that I want to explore here over the next few weeks, but this week I am featuring the Garden Stroll, which was one of the best garden tours I’ve seen in years. The Salem Garden Club has a venerable history dating back to 1928 and they have made numerous contributions to Salem’s horticultural history, among them the publication of the most wonderful little pamphlet, Old Salem Gardens, which (I swear) is seldom out of my sight at home. If you encounter a copy online or in person, snatch it up: believe me, you won’t be disappointed. The club always features a Christmas market during Historic Salem’s Christmas in Salem house tour, and they contribute to the city’s beautification initiatives as well. Years ago, when my house was on the Christmas in Salem tour, I was fortunate to have the Club as designated decorators and I remember fondly coming downstairs the morning of the tour to see ladies artfully arranging their creations, as well as ironing my tablecloths! It was nice to hear them setting up for the stroll this past weekend as well, as their headquarters were right next door at Hamilton Hall. I think we were all a bit anxious as it was raining Saturday morning (and very humid later on), but from my perspective, everything went off very well.

Salem Garden Club present and past.

The gardens were all located within the McIntire Historic District, Salem’s oldest, on Federal and Chestnut Streets and off streets of the latter. The range was incredible in terms of size and style, but all featured great structure, and very interesting plants! I have LUNGWORT ENVY, as pulmonaria are my favorite plants and my feeble varieties paled in comparison to two much more robust examples I spotted on Chestnut and Hamilton streets (usually they are better; they really let me down this year—must check my soil). There was great architecture, and all sorts of special little details: I was immediately reminded of a quote by Mary Harrod Northend about Salem’s urban gardens, “where every inch of space has been made to serve a decorative purpose.” (The Mentor, 1914).

Gardens on Federal and Hamilton Streets and an additional lovely lungwort on Chestnut.

The neighborhood insitutions were featured too, including the Peabody Essex Museum’s famous Ropes Garden (with PEM head gardener Robin Pydynkowski on-site to answer questions), the Pickering House (also with present gardeners), and the Salem Athenaeum, and lemonade was served at the Phillips House. The great thing about urban gardens like those of Salem is you can generally check out lots of backyards once you get “out back” so a tour such as this is a treat for both architectural and horticultural buffs (plus outbuildings!) I was just thrilled to see the garden of the house built for Hugh Wilson, the Scottish gardener of the adjacent Hoffman garden on Chestnut Street, which was truly famous in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It was so unexpectedly large, I think because it was the site of one of the Hoffman greenhouses. (But I also developed pond envy). Just a great Salem day!

PEM Gardener Robyn Pydynkowski in the spotlight at the Ropes Mansion; Hamilton and Chestnut Street Gardens.

And at the end of the day it was nice to come back to our garden, now free of people and with Trinity liberated (Tuck was still cowering inside) to have a g&t. Cheers to the Salem Garden Club!


DeCordova Day

Last week I had a terrible night full of no sleep and the worst thoughts—it was the debate, my garden, my book, everything and nothing catastrophic, just made so in the dead of night. The next morning I had my coffee and drove to the DeCordova Sculpture Park and Museum in Lincoln, the leafiest of Boston’s leafy suburbs. Modern sculpture doesn’t usually speak to me, but on this occasion and in this setting, it did. I calmed way down, was capable of enjoying the low 80s, sunny and no- humidity weather, and forgot my concerns for a good part of the day. I didn’t spend the whole day there (my title is an alliterative exaggeration) but a solid morning, during which I walked around the 30+ acres with a skip in my step which I managed to maintain for the rest of the day–no exaggeration. So here are some of my highlights, starting with an off-kilter person and house, because that’s how I felt when I arrived.

Joseph Wheelwright. Listening Stone; Hugh Hayden, A Huff and a Puff (inspired by Thoreau’s cabin, not too far away!)

The DeCordova Sculpture Park and Museum was established on the former estate of local businessman Julian de Cordova on the southern shore of Flint’s Pond in Lincoln in 1950 and purchased by the Trustees of Reservations in 2019. There are some 60 sculptures outside and the castle-like main building is currently closed for HVAC repairs. The last time I visited was in the fall, and the sculptures were stunning against the foliage, but this was a glorious day too. It’s an engaging way to view art as you can approach the installations from any angle—Hugh Hayden’s cottage above is a perfect example above as is Alyson Shotz’s Temporal Shift below (which has the additional quality of being “site-responsive”): what do you want to frame and how do you want to frame?

Alyson Shotz, Temporal Shift; Lars-Erik Fisk, Decordova Ball; Reno Pisano, Torso; Christopher Frost,  A Mile from Any Neighbor from Walden; Rona Pondick, Otter (my photo is not really enabling you to see the otter qualities of this stainless steel sculpture!); Kitty Wales, Feral Goose; Robert Schelling, Time at the Museum; George Greenamyer, Mass Art Vehicle; John Buck, Dreamworld; Jim Dine, Two Big Hearts.

I walked right by—more subtle sculptures!

Andy Goldsworthy, Watershed;Richard Rosenblum, Venusvine; Robert Lobe, Environmental Impact Statement (from afar I thought it was just a big boulder but it is made of hammered aluminum).

Transparent sculptures: the most site-responsive!

Saul Melman, Best Of All Possible Worlds; Dan Graham, Crazy Spheroid—Two Entrances (which I loved because it made me look tall!)


Reverential Restoration

I was browsing through the Flickr photographs of the Salem State Archives and Special Collections the other day, when I came across several photographs of crowds in and around the Gardner-Pingree House on Essex Street. This is one of the Peabody Essex Museum’s houses, and it is seldom open, so these crowds caught my eye. It’s also one of my very favorite houses in Salem, so every time I see it, in reality or in print, I stop and look. The photographs were from the Salem Evening News, which is my new favorite collection at Salem State, and they were part of the coverage of the reopening of the Gardner-Pingree after a substantive, source-based restoration in 1989. I didn’t live in Salem then, but I moved here not too long after, and one of the first things I did was go into this recently-restored house which I had heard, and read, so much about. It was absolutely stunning to me; I can still remember being shocked by the colors and patterns and detail. At that point in my life I was finishing my dissertation, then starting my teaching career, but at the same time I was increasingly obsessed with historic interiors. I had all the magazines and books, and they were like carrots that got me through all the work I had to do. My obsession is part of the reason I moved to Salem, and seeing this house just reinforced my instinct that it was the right place for me. After my first tour I bought a poster in the gift shop of the Essex Institute, and it still hangs on the wall: in my first Salem house it had pride of place, and now it dwells in a third-floor bathroom, but I still gaze upon it from time to time. I remember thinking when I bought it: this will be the inspiration for my own decoration–high standards indeed!

Unattainable standards obviously. If the colors above look blueish, be asssured they are not; there are layers of the most beautiful greens in that photograph. There must be 100 different shades of green in that house! I was impressed immediately, and my first instinct thereafter has always been to paint a room green. Our present house is north-facing, and green is not really the best choice, so I’ve used what I always think of as “Gardner-Pingree yellow” in several rooms. I tried to use what I think of as “Gardner-Pingree pink” in the double parlor but my husband objected so we have a compromise peachy salmon pink (although he would object to the label “pink”.)  It wasn’t only the colors–it was the slipcovers, the cream painted “fancy chairs,” the Brussels carpets, the fire buckets in the back hall: I could go on and on and I’m kind of ashamed to admit that whenever I’ve been in this house I notice the decoration more than McIntire’s woodwork. And I’m not the only one: this restoration certainly received acclaim from curatorial and preservation professionals but it was also featured in a cascade of shelter magazines and decorating books. Chalk paint pioneer Annie Sloan focused intently on one Gardner-Pingree green and that perfect pink, which is in the kitchen.

Just a few books which feature the Gardner-Pingree House.

It was a very important and influential restoration, and not just from my personal perspective. In several articles discussing its process and inspiration, then Essex Institute Research Curator and Project Director Dean Lahikainen (who later wrote the definitive book on Samuel McIntire, Carving an American Style) always seems slightly (though politely) appalled by the preceding restoration of the 1930s in which all the woodwork was painted white according to the dictates  of the Colonial Revival style which was so prevalent at the time. Fifty years later, Lahikainen and his team took their cues from historical sources rather than contemporary preferences, creating an interior that seemed both “refreshed” and restored. The house was  reopened this very week after a five-year restoration, and all the recorded visitors’ reactions run along these lines.

Stories from Lynn Daily Item and Boston Globe, June 1989 and 1990; photographs from the Salem Evening News, June 1989, Salem State Archives and Special Collections. The “formal English garden” photograph is of my garden! (Now not quite so formal) The last photograph above is of the small exhibit on the house which was in its carriage house, I believe.

You can see my photographs of the house from the last time I was inside, in 2017, in this post, and also here. Below are a few more, but I really don’t have very many good ones: every time I’m in this house I’m kind of overwhelmed and aware that I have this rare opportunity and I don’t focus on what I want to capture. On my past two spring break road trips, I thought that the Read House in New Castle, Delaware, and then Kenmore in Fredericksburg, Virginia might have supplanted the Gardner-Pingree as my very favorite house, but looking at these pictures again, I think not.


Revolutionary Summer

Revolution 250, the initiative to commemorate the 25oth anniversary of the beginning of the American Revolution in our region, has been gearing up for some time, and now we’ve come to Salem’s time to shine: when General Thomas Gage arrived in Boston on May 13, 1774 he brought with him his credentials as the newly-appointed royal governor, and instructions to displace the city as both the chief port of New England and capital of colonial Massachusetts. Everyone knew about the Boston Port Act, a retaliatory measure in response to the Tea Party which mandated that “Marblehead in Salem Harbor” should become the official port of entry, but the Massachusetts Government Act was a more recent Parliamentary passage. These “Intolerable” acts (not a word that was really in use at the time) had the cumulative effect of uniting most of the colonies against Great Britain: donations pored into Boston from far and near, including Salem. While there were those in Salem who expressed some measure of cheer at the city’s elevated status, most (or at least most of the expressions) voiced displeasure: I am particularly interested in the change of tone from May 17 onwards regarding General (Governor) Gage’s residence. At first there is reference to a house in the “upper part of town” (I think this was William Browne’s stately house) and then he is banished to the “King” Hooper mansion in Danvers, presumably by the declaration of certain inhabitants of Salem “that they will not sell, or let an house or lodgings, to any person that will remove (t)hither, in consequence of the passing of the Boston Port Act, they being determined to show their distressed brethren in the capital city, every possible mark of their sincere sympathy.”

Can you imagine the charged atmosphere of those days, 250 years ago? Timothy Pickering was charged by his fellow patriots to relay the sentiments above to Governor Gage, while the town Tories gave him a welcoming address in which they expressed their regard for “his Majesty’s paternal Care and affection for this Province, in the appointment of a person of your Excellency’s Experience, Wisdom and Moderation in these troublesome and difficult times.” They rejoiced that Salem had been “distinguished for that Spirit, Loyalty and Reverence for the laws, which is equally our Glory and Happiness.” Following this warm welcome on June 2, a grand ball was organized for the King’s birthday, two days later! (King George was big on birthday celebrations for both himself and his Queen, Charlotte). I’m trying to imagine the revolutionary spaces, but the problem is that all of the buildings in which these “negotiations” played out are no longer there. Some deliberations were held at the Court/Schoolhouse at the head of Washington (then School) Street (demolished for Salem’s first train tunnel in the 1830s) and others at the royal Town House just down the street, which was summarily destroyed at the end of the Revolution. Gage’s House in Danvers, then called the Hooper Mansion and later the Lindens, was moved to Washington DC in the 1930s, and its interiors ended up at the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City. But everything was in relatively close proximity and it must have been one hot summer: Governor Gage set the first meeting of the General Court for June 7, and then they were off!

The Salem Courthouse from Massachusetts Magazine, 1790 and Smithsonian Library Collections; I dropped “General Gage” into his drawing room at the Hooper Mansion, photograph from the Nelson-Atkins Museum.

More on Revolutionary Salem all summer long! And next weekend, the British are coming to Salem (again) with an “Encampment Weekend” on June 15 at the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. More information here.


A Big Salem History Project, 1952!

I receive gifts from readers of the blog from time to time and they are all very special and much appreciated. A reader sent me a slim, illustrated and bound History of Salem prepared by a “committee of students and teachers of the Salem Public School System” in 1952 several years ago, and I was immediately charmed by it but not quite inspired to post about it. But yesterday I woke up and it was the first thing on (in?) my mind. I think I’m inspired by the end of the academic year and the completion of academic projects, by my own local history project, and by the Salem Quadricentennial planning, or lack thereof. The City has not put a lot of resources or time into planning for Salem’s 400th anniversary in 2026, and there have been meetings only for invited “stakeholders” rather than the general public. A dedicated website went live only last week, and the dedicated coordinator seems largely on her own. I was getting quite depressed about this, especially the lack of public engagement, but last week we came up with a neat (public) initiative at Salem State, so my depression turned into excitement—-and then I thought of this little book.

This little book has a strong voice, and it is a voice from 1952. It really captures the perspective of that year, that moment. Of course, there is the “White Man” and there are the “Indians” and they seem to have a very Thanksgiving-esque relationship. There are entire chapters on civic responsibilities (including a relatively long discussion of TAXES) and “Salem’s Contributions to our Country’s Call.” There are no women, and no one with anything but a very Anglo name, included in the chapter on “Famous Citizens of Salem.” It’s pure unbridled mid-century optimism, but from more of a working-class than privileged perspective. Students from the Salem Vocational High School contributed to this volume (including the great illustrations which I am including here—trying not to crop the names of the illlustrators), along with those from the Salem Classical and High School and the Phillips, Pickering, and Saltonstall Schools. This history portrays a city to which many visitors come to see the architecture, but is not yet Witch City. The Salem Witch Trials get a few pages; the Revolution gets more—even the Civil War gets more (we read about all the Union generals that visited Salem and that in 1866, “111 applications for financial assistance were received by the Naumkeag Army and Navy Relief from Civil War veterans and their families.” Details, details!)  The Salem Fire seems like a very, very recent memory: their parents and grandparents must have impressed it upon them.

And of course, World War II is a much more recent memory, even their memory. At the end of each chapter, there are “suggested activities” for students and two such activities were to “talk with relatives and friends and learn their reaction to the Pearl Harbor affair on December 7, 1941”  and to “bring in any decorations that your relatives have earned.” Pride characterizes this activity and this chapter, but really the tone throughout the entire text is one of pride, pride in Salem because it is an “important” city characterized by beautiful architecture and busy mills (not a contradiction in their representation) and its citizens have made “important” contributions to the nation. The students feel sure that [their readers] will be proud to say “I live in Salem, a city rich with dramatic reminders of the past, a city which with its great industrial power offers me a bright and promising hope for my future.” 


Salem History: my Reading List

We got word last week that our book Salem’s Centuries. New Perspectives on the History of an Old American City, 1626-2026 cleared its final rounds of review and approval and will be published by Temple University Press in the fall of 2025, just in time for Salem’s Quadricentennial in 2026. This project has been challenging in many ways but I think our book will expand Salem’s written history rather dramatically: there are four pieces on African-American history alone, chapters on Salem’s experience of the Revolutionary and Civil Wars, and lots of twentieth-century history that has never been written, and much more. I felt vulnerable throughout the whole process: I had never edited a volume before, and I am not trained in American or modern history but here I was writing chapters not only on the seventeenth century, but also the nineteenth and twentieth. The whole project would not have been possible without my colleague and co-editor Brad Austin, who is both an experienced editor and a modern American historian. I also relied on Salem historians past and present, as I felt I had a detailed grasp on the topics I was writing about from a local perspective, but no general, much less comprehensive, context in which to place my Salem narratives. So the whole experience was like a deep dive into historiography for me, and I learned a lot. As a tribute of sorts, I thought I’d post my Salem bibliography, in chronological order of publication. These are the sources, primary and secondary, from which I learned the most. I’m going for breadth over depth here so I’m not going to annotate each and every title, but if you have questions ask away!

A couple of caveats: my chapters are on Hugh Peter, John Remond, the suffrage and Colonial Revival movements, and urban renewal in the twentieth century, so my reading list is going to reflect those eras and topics. This particular bibliography is not comprehensive in regard to the Witch Trials as our book is about new perspectives. I’ve got my colleague Tad Baker’s Storm of Witchcraft on here and a couple of classics, but that’s it.

  1. Francis Higginson, Nevv-Englands plantation. Or, A short and true description of the commodities and discommodities of that countrey. Written by Mr. Higgeson, a reuerend diuine now there resident. Whereunto is added a letter, sent by Mr. Graues an enginere, out of New-England (1630). First impressions and physical descriptions, plus Reverend Higginson was like a bridge for me, as he’s from my period.
  2. John Smith, Advertisements for the unexperienced Planters of New-England, or any where. Or, the Path-way to erect a Plantation…by John Smith, sometimes Governour of Virginia, and Admirall of New-England. (1631). 
  3. Lewis Roberts, The merchants map of commerce wherein the universal manner and matter relating to trade and merchandize are fully treated of, the standard and current coins of most princes and republicks observ’d, the real and imaginary coins of accounts and exchanges express’d, the natural products and artificial commodities and manufactures for transportation declar’d, the weights and measures of all eminent cities and towns of traffick in the universe, collected one into another, and all reduc’d to the meridian of commerce practis’d in the famous city of London (1700).
  4. Samuel Sewell, The Selling of Joseph. A memorial (1700).
  5. Joseph Barlow Felt, The Annals of Salem, from its first Settlement (1827). This is my favorite of the antiquarian histories–full of details!
  6. Charles Moses Endicot, Account of Leslie’s retreat at the North Bridge in Salem, on Sunday Feb’y 26, 1775 (1856).
  7. Harriet Sylvester Tapley, Salem imprints, 1768-1825 : a history of the first fifty years of printing in Salem, Massachusetts, with some account of the bookshops, booksellers, bookbinders and the private libraries (1870). More than printing here!
  8. Thomas J. Hutchinson, Patriots of Salem. Honor Roll of Officers and Enlisted Men in the late Civil War (1877).
  9. Samuel Sewall, Diary of Samuel Sewall. 16741729. Massachusetts Historical Society, 1878-1882.
  10. Marianne Cabot Devereux Silsbee, A Half Century in Salem (1887). There are quite a few memoirs by Salem women; this is my favorite.
  11. William Pynchon and F.E. Oliver, editor, The diary of William Pynchon of Salem. A picture of Salem life, social and political, a century ago (1890). There are several Salem Tory diaries; most left, Pynchon remained.
  12. Lyman P. Powell, ed., Historic Towns of New England (1898).
  13. Essex Institute (William Bentley), The diary of William Bentley, D. D.,Pastor of the East Church, Salem, Massachusetts (1905-1914). The ultimate detailed diary: new annotated edition coming soon, I believe!
  14. Arthur Barnett Jones, The Salem Fire (1914).
  15. Mary Harrod Northend, Memories of Old Salem (1917).
  16. Frank Cousins, The Colonial Architecture of Salem (1919).
  17. Clifford L. Lord, ed., Keepers of the Past (1965). Really good chapter on George Francis Dow.
  18. Richard P. Gildrie, Salem, Massachusetts, 1626-1683: A Covenant Community (1975). A really important book, key to understanding the religious structure and mindset of Salem’s religous foundation.
  19. Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum, Salem Possessed. The Social Origins of Witchcraft (1976).
  20. Essex Institute, Dr. Bentley’s Salem: Portrait of a Town. A Special Exhibition (1977).
  21. Elizabeth Stillinger, The antiquers : the lives and careers, the deals, the finds, the collections of the men and women who were responsible for the changing taste in American antiques, 1850-1930 (1980). So many seekers of Salem stuff!
  22. Charles B. Hosmer, Preservation Comes of Age, 1926-49: from Williamsburg to the National Trust (1981). Salem is key in a national historic preservation movement.
  23. John Demos, Entertaining Satan. Witchcraft and the Culture of Early New England (1982).
  24. Bryant and Carolyn Tolles, Architecture in Salem: an Illustrated Guide (1983, 2003, 2023).
  25. Michael Middleton, Man Made the Town (1987). Urban renewal.
  26. Julie Roy Jeffrey, The great silent army of abolitionism : ordinary women in the antislavery movement (1998).
  27. Daniel Vickers, Young Men and the Sea. Yankee Seafarers in the Age of Sail (2005). OMG what a tour de force!
  28. Dane Morrison and Nancy Schultz, eds., Salem: Place, Myth and Memory (2005). This is our exemplar, and we tried to make our book complementary.
  29. Megan Marshall, The Peabody Sisters. Three Women who ignited American Romanticism (2006).
  30. Avi Chomsky, Linked Labor Histories: New England, Colombia, and the making of  a Global Working Class (2008). My colleague and a contributor to our volume: Salem needs more labor history!
  31. James R. Ruffin, A paradise of reason : William Bentley and Enlightenment Christianity in the Early Republic (2008).
  32. Gretchen A. Adams, The Specter of Salem. The Witch Trials in Nineteenth-Century America (2008). A big theme in our last century: the overwhelming impact of the trials.
  33. Georgia Barnhill and Martha McNamara, eds., New views of New England : studies in material and visual culture, 16801830 (2012).
  34. Susan Hardman Moore, Abandoning America. Life Stories from early New England (2013).
  35. Emerson W. Baker, A Storm of Witchcraft. The Salem Witch Trials and the American Experience (2014).
  36. Martha Hodes, Mourning Lincoln (2015). Descriptions of Salem in mourning from Sarah Browne’s diary.
  37. Jacob Remes, Disaster Citizenship: Survivors, Solidarity, and Power in the Progressive Era (2015).
  38. Kabria Baumgartner, In Pursuit of Knowledge: Black Women and Educational Optimism in Antebellum America (2019). Essential for school desegregation in Salem.
  39. Nancy Shoemaker, Pursuing Respect in the Cannibal Isles: Americans in Nineteenth-Century Fiji (2019).
  40. James Lindgren, Preserving Maritime America. A Cultural History of the Nation’s Great Maritime Museums (2020).