Tag Archives: Salem Gardens

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!


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.


Salem Gardens, June 2024

Let’s take a break from history and observe and enjoy the world around us, shall we? I’ve been asking my Salem friends and aquaintences about their gardens, and everyone is very happy: blooms abound! Shrubs and perennials are bigger and better than ever—the latter seem to be positively uncontainable. I’m enjoying my garden too, but am also a bit anxious as it is on the Salem Garden Stroll in mid-July and I know that this month’s blooms will not last: maybe I should cut back now to encourage regrowth? When I first started working on the garden years ago, I strove for cascading color and interesting greenery for texture, but still, July is tough. Here we are in the second week of June:

It’s a bit messy as the tulip tree next door just let loose, but that is easily remedied. I snuck in my lady slippers at the end here, but their peak is a few weeks back.  Looking at these pictures, I realize I still have phlox and bee balm and meadowsweet coming, and daylillies too. There are several varieties of mallow yet to bloom, and the catmint and  honeysuckle will just keep going. I popped my lady slippers in here too, but this last picture is from a few weeks back.

I took a walk around Salem on Saturday morning looking for flowers, and stopped in at the Ropes Mansion and Derby House gardens: the first is the property of the Peabody Essex Museum, and the latter is part of the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. These are really the only “public” gardens in Salem, as their gates are always open. Quite a contrast: the Derby garden has the overgrown “colonial” look I strive for in my own garden, whereas the Ropes is quite formal. Peonies and roses were reigning in both at this particular time.

And while I have you here, looking for this garden gate below……..I’m giving a short talk on Chestnut Street gardens on the morning of the Stroll, July 13, at Hamilton Hall. I’ve got lots of old pictures, including some of gardens and garden structures that no longer exist, but I can’t identify this wonderful gate, which I pretty sure also no longer exists. I think it’s the gate to John Robinson’s (who designed the Ropes Garden) amazing garden on Summer Street, which is now a parking lot, but I’m not sure, so if it looks familiar, let me know. I also wanted to present a past and present view of the garden at the Peabody Essex Museum’s Andrew Safford House: this past weekend and June of 1941, with members of the Salem Garden Club in costume.


Local Color: Salem June 2022

This is going to be an odd post which will start out sweet and end up a bit sour, but I can promise you that it will be colorful throughout. There’s one aspect of Salem’s history that I never seem to be able to cover completely, despite the longevity of this blog: its horticultural history. Salem was really famous for its horticulture a century or so ago: you can’t browse through a stack (or a database) of house and garden magazines from the first half of the twentieth century without encountering articles on the “old–fashioned” gardens of Old Salem. Several really notable cultivators and landscapers lived here, and one still does! There is continuity: the city still has some wonderful private and public gardens: among the latter are the Ropes Mansion and Derby House gardens, which are open to the public. There are so many flowering trees and to see in Salem just while walking down the street, especially at this time of year or a bit earlier. So I’ve got some nice photos from the past two weeks or so, and that was going to be the exclusive focus of this post: a parade of colors in Salem for Pride month! But, stuff happens, and in the middle of this very a trouble man painted the Bewitched statue in Town House Square red, setting off a wave of national headlines and local commentary. So I think I’ll add Samantha to this colorful mix. But first: Ropes and Derby:

Salem in June: the Peabody Essex Museum’s Ropes Mansion garden is really more of a high/late summer garden, but the Derby House garden at the Salem Maritime National Historic site is perfect in June.

My garden can’t really compete but I do want to show you my lady’s slippers and I really like the meadow rue that blooms at this time of year. I’ve thinned out my rose bushes, because they just don’t earn their keep in my small garden, so I only have the best bloomers and they are putting on a show right now. This the lady’s mantle time too: I’ve been training my younger cat Tuck on a leash, and the minute he gets it on he goes right for it, so you can see pre-bloom last week and bloom this week. Then there is the vertical garden at the new downtown condo building named Brix (not a fan of this building but I do like its exterior embellishments), peonies from around town, an impressive plant for which I need an identification outside the Peirce-Nichols house (baptisia?) and more roses, on Cambridge Street.

So that brings us to more unnatural color: blue trees and a red Samantha. In the side yard adjacent to the Peabody Essex Museum, the trees have been painted bright blue, a very bright royal blue. This is the 27th international installation of the artist Konstantin Dimopoulos’s The Blue Trees, an “environmental call to action” with watercolor which will fade with time. Very striking, especially at this time of year. With no manifesto and paint that was certainly not biologically-safe, a homeless man spray-painted the upper part of the Bewitched statue a few blocks away in downtown Salem in the middle of this past week. Red Samantha didn’t last long; indeed I’ve seldom seen a quicker response by the City. By the end of the day she was cleansed and a gofundme account set up to restore her to her former “glory”. For those of us in the never-Samantha camp, it was hard to bear the comments on social media protesting this act of vandalism as “disgusting” and “disrespectful” because that’s just how we view the statue: as disgusting and disrespectful to the victims of the 1692. Or maybe I should just speak for myself. As the story created regional and national headlines that night and the next day, I just couldn’t bear the use of the word “landmark” applied to this horror: a landmark should be something that one points to with pride, not embarrassment, which is generally how I feel every time I pass by Samantha. Salem Mayor Kim Driscoll praised the quick cleanup by her public services team and opined that “Samantha brings a degree of joy and whimsy to our downtown and has become a landmark location for thousands of visitors to Salem each year” but such craven capitalization on suffering remains incomprehensible to me. To return to my color theme (and lighten up things a bit), there was also a difficult juggling act for those who did not want to praise vandalism by any means, but at the same time thought that Samantha looked better draped in red. Anything could improve that eyesore, and I always see red when I gaze in her direction.

The Blue Trees of Konstantin Dimopoulus; and a fleeting Red Samantha.


Skirting Witches and Pirates in Salem

Walking is my preferred form of transportation in Salem, but I tread carefully: I want my path to be lined with beautiful old houses, colorful shops and lovely green (or white) spaces. Attractions exploiting the terrible tragedy of 1692 and out-of-town-yet-territorial pirates cloud my view and dampen my day. I’m happy to meet real witches and pirates on my walkabouts, but kitschy parodies annoy me. If you are of like mind, there are many routes you can take in Salem on which you will not cross paths with anything remotely touristy, but if you are venturing downtown you must tread carefully too. Avoid the red line at all costs and follow my route below, which I have superimposed on an old map of the so-called “Heritage Trail”: I’m starting at my house on lower Chestnut Street and making a witch-less circle.

Across from my house is Chestnut Street Park: this is not a public park but a private space, owned by all the homeowners of Chestnut Street. It was once the site of two churches in succession: a majestic Samuel McIntire creation which lasted for almost exactly a century and was destroyed by fire in 1903 and a stone replacement which was rather less majestic and lasted about half as long. The gate is usually open to everyone, but not for reseeding time as you can see by the sign. I walk down Cambridge Street by the park and across Essex into the Ropes Mansion Garden, not looking great now but an amazing high summer garden. Then I walk down Federal Court and across Federal Street to the Peirce-Nichols House which is owned, like the Ropes Mansion, by the Peabody Essex Museum. Unlike the Ropes, I can’t remember when the Peirce-Nichols was last opened to the public: it’s been decades. It has a lovely garden in back which was always open, and my favorite place to go at this time of year because of its preponderance of Bleeding Hearts. The gate to the back of the house has been closed for a couple of years now, but it is latched and not locked, so I entered and went into the rear courtyard, passing the memorial stone dedicated to the memory of Anne Farnam, the last director of the Essex Institute before it was absorbed into the Peabody Essex Museum on my right. I never knew Anne but I’ve learned a lot from her articles in the Essex Institute Historical Collections so I always pay tribute. The gate to the garden in back was latched and locked, so I presume the museum does not want us to venture in there. I hope it was ok to go that far! While I am grateful for these pem.org/walks recordings I’m always wondering why these houses are never open.

Continue down Federal Street past the courthouses: you must avoid Lynde Street and Essex Street where witch “attractions” abound. I take a left after Washington street onto a street that no longer exists: Rust Street. I like the juxtaposition of the newish condominiums and the old Church and Bessie Monroe’s brick house on Ash Street on the right: a symbol of the opposition to urban renewal in Salem. Then it’s on to St. Peter Street, past the Old Jail and the Jailkeepers’s House (below), right on Bridge, and then right again, onto Winter Street.

Winter Street

As you approach Salem Common, you must bear left and head for the east side, as the west side is the territory of the Salem Witch “Museum.” There are some side streets with wonderful houses between the Common and Bridge Street which might be a bit more pleasant to traverse than the latter but you will be cutting close to the “Museum”: that’s why I always go with Winter. Once there, go straight by the Common on Washington Square East : you will pass the newly-renovated Silsbee Mansion, which long served as the party palace Knights of Columbus and has been converted into residential units with a substantive addtion and exterior restoration, and one of my favorite houses on the Common, the Baldwin Lyman House.

On Washington Square East.

Washington Square East will take you right to Essex Street: cross and go down the walkway adjacent to the first-period Narbonne House into the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. No witches or pirates here: you’re safe! I love the garden behind the Derby House: I think it is probably at its best in June when the peonies are popping but it’s a great place to go all spring and summer and even in the fall. On Derby Street, you can turn left and go down to the House of the Seven Gables or go straight down Derby Wharf: I went to the end of the wharf on this particular walk. The Salem Arts Association is right here too, but beware: there is a particularly ugly witch on its right so shade your view lest your zen walk be disturbed.

Salem Maritime National Historic Site and the Salem Arts Association.

Back on Derby. Adjacent to the Custom House is a wonderful institution: the Brookhouse Home for Women, established in 1861! The Home is located in the former Benjamin Crowninshield Mansion, and it is very generous with its lovely grounds, which provide my favorite view of Derby Wharf. I always stop in here, and then I work my way back up to Essex Street on one side street or another. Essex Street east and west are wonderful places to walk, but the pedestrian-mall center is witch-central: a particularly dangerous corner is Essex and Hawthorne Boulevard, where the Peabody Essex’s historic houses face some of the ugliest signs in town. It’s a real aesthetic clash: gaze at the beautiful Gardner-Pingree House, but don’t turn around! If you want to go to the main PEM buildings or the Visitors’ Center further down Essex, approach from Charter Street north on another “street” that no longer exists: Liberty Street.

From the Brookhouse Home to the PEM’s row of historic houses on Essex Street. Memorial stone in the Brookwood garden: Miss Amy Nurse, RN, an Army Nurse (1916-2013).

Charter Street is the location of Salem’s oldest cemetery, the Old Burying Point, recently restored and equipped with an orientation center located in the first-period Pickman House, which overlooks the Witch Trials Memorial. So this is a wonderful, meaningful place to visit, but beware: just beyond is the “Haunted Neighborhood” or “Haunted Witch Village” (whatever it is called)  situated on the southern end of the former Liberty Street, abutting the cemetery. This is a cruel juxtaposition during Haunted Happenings, when you literally have a party right next to sacred places, but not too noticeable during the rest of the year, because for the most part witchcraft “attractions” create dead zones. But the tacky signage can still spoil your walk so avert your gaze as much as possible. Charter Street feeds into Front Street, Salem’s main shopping street, and from there you can find the path of least (traffic) resistance back to the McIntire Historic District, which is very safe territory. Broad, Chestnut, upper Essex and Federal Streets are lined with beautiful buildings, as are their connecting side streets, so take your pick. I usually just walk around until I get in my 10,000 steps: on this particular walk I ended up on Essex.

Charter, Front & upper Essex Streets.


Early June Garden

I feel a bit selfish and indulgent featuring my garden during this troubling and tumultuous week, but I really don’t have anything else to offer. My dear readers and followers seemed to like last week’s garden post, and though I am no Marianne Majerus or Stacy Bass, it’s almost impossible to take a bad photograph of some flowers, like my beloved Trillium and Lady’s Slippers, both “out” this week! Our big kitchen demolition/renovation is starting very soon and there will likely put a lot of sawdust in this adjacent garden, so it’s the last we’ll see of it for some time. I’ll miss my garden this summer, but I’m off to our family house in Maine, where my father want to put in a new garden, so that project will be somewhat compensatory: soliciting all tips from Maine gardeners—-for a site with full sun but lots of ledge (we already have a rock garden).

Meanwhile, here’s my little city plot this past week:

20200531_161839

20200531_192145It’s a bit wild but that’s how I like it—contained chaos. But I will say that the anemones are MONSTERS this year. 

20200531_192427

20200531_192522

20200531_145855

20200531_192554

20200530_154742

20200531_162958I’m sorry that the Lady’s Mantle hasn’t popped yet but I do have Lady’s Slippers to show you!

IMG_20200531_145437_446

20200531_144441

20200531_161918

IMG_20200529_180757_928

pixlr_20200601145348621And flourishing ferns, trillium, and one of my very favorite plants, lungwort, which looks like this all summer long, not just at showstopper time.


Celebrated Gardens of Salem

A while ago I scored the first volume of a classic text of early American gardens, Gardens of Colony and State, compiled and edited for the Garden Club of America by Alice G.B. Lockwood in 1931. I’ve seldom been without it since; I can’t say that “I can’t put it down” because it is a heavy tome, but I’ve been dipping into it whenever I have a free moment. It’s an absolutely amazing publication: scholarly, detailed, engaging, illustrated, comprehensive. I’ve planned all of my summer road trips around it, even though I suspect I might find myself on sites of former historic gardens more often than not.

Gardens 1

Gardens of Colony and State is nothing less than an illustrated history of American gardens and gardening to 1840: the first volume covers New England and the Midwest, while the second volume presents the South and West (and garden enclosures from across the nation). It is remarkably well-sourced, but also as accessible as you would imagine a garden club publication to be, and its illustrations are nothing short of invaluable. While Salem trades on its darkness now, in 1931 it was still quite well known for its horticultural heritage, and so it rates an entire chapter in the first volume: there is Boston, Salem and Newburyport, and everywhere else in Massachusetts. Lockwood starts off with the Reverend Francis Higginson’s observations on “the bounty of the soil of Salem” in 1629 and shows us the Endicott pear tree and sundial (purchased by the Reverend William Bentley–is this still in the Crowninshield-Bentley House or up in the storage bunker/Collection Center in Rowley?) and then it’s all about Elias Hasket Derby, who employed one of the nation’s first professional gardeners, an Alsatian emigré named George Heussler (whom contemporaries referred to as “Dutch”) for both his town and country gardens. We get to see charming drawings by Samuel McIntire of the former’s grounds—from the Essex Institute/Peabody Essex Museum, of course.

Garden Sundial

Garden Derby 1

Garden Derby 2

We then proceed through the nineteenth century, and visit Salem’s most famous gardens, most of which were laid out or maintained by “Scotch gardeners” (How many gardens are due to the Scotch gardeners! proclaims Lockwood). The botanist John Robinson’s garden at 18 Summer Street was long ago paved over for a parking lot while elsewhere grass and more carefree perennials have replaced the very intensively-cultivated gardens of the Victorian era. An interesting connection: the “Scotch gardener” of Captain Charles Hoffman’s garden at 26 Chestnut, Hugh Wilson, came over from the old country with Peter Henderson, the so-called “father of horticulture and ornamental gardening” in the United States who operated several commercial market gardens and a successful seed company, and they maintained a close connection throughout their lives. Doubtless Henderson made some contributions to the three greenhouses Hoffman and Wilson maintained in the vicinity of 26 Chestnut–one at the rear of his property and two additional ones along Hamilton Street.

Garden Robinson

Garden 26 Chestnut

Across Chestnut Street were the renown gardens of two maiden ladies: Miss Huntington’s garden at #35 and Miss Laight’s garden at #41 Both gardens were featured in several periodicals at the turn of the twentieth century and Lockwood includes older photographs of each—one wonders if they were simplified in the 1930s when the Great Depression reigned and there were probably no more Scotch gardeners on the street. We then read about the botanical experiments of John Fiske Allen at # 31 (more greenhouses!), and enterprises of Robert Manning, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s uncle, in the pastoral paradise of North Salem. By far the most poignant photographs in the Salem chapter of Gardens of Colony and State are those of the Peirce-Nichols House on Federal Street, another PEM property and McIntire creation, if only because of the stark contrast of past and present.

Garden 35

Garden 41

Peirce Nichols

Peirce Nichols Garden 4

Peirce Nichols Garden

Peirce Nichols Garden 2

Gardens page


Salem Garden Tour 2017

My takeaway from the weekend’s garden tour in Salem is a renewed appreciation of structure in the garden: fences, pergolas, pillars and garden sheds were everywhere in evidence, and both the small and large gardens were oriented towards the architecture of their adjacent houses. I’ve always been a bit more botanical-based, but now I find myself desperately wanting a little garden house! It was a very eclectic tour, ranging from very small gardens on River Street to a palatial garden on Chestnut, with a beautifully structured classical garden on Federal Street in between. We toured in the morning, well before a torrential downpour in the later afternoon–which must have stranded lots of people under available porches, or some other convenient structure. As for plant material, there was mildew-free bee balm, very well-kept roses, lots of vines, and lavender that is much more lush than mine. As always, I feel grateful to the gardeners/homeowners who put themselves out there and allowed us all to trespass for a while.

Garden Tour River 2

Garden Tour First

Garden Tour River 3

Garden Tour Santolina

Garden Tour River

Garden Tour Sheds

Garden Tour Shed

Garden Tour Federal 8

Garden Tour Federal 7

Garden Tour Federal 6

Garden Tour Federal 5

Garden Tour Federal 4

Garden Tour Federal 3

Garden Tour Beale 2

Garden Tour Beale 3

Garden Tour Chestnut

Garden Tour Beebalm

Garden Tour Apples

Garden Tour Chestnut lastSalem Gardens (+sheds) on River, Federal and Chestnut Streets.


Peaking and Strolling (in Gardens)

I’m looking forward to the Salem Garden Club’s biennial tour tomorrow, “A Stroll through the Garden’s of Salem’s McIntire District”, which will take place right in my neighborhood. All proceeds go towards the club’s community beautification projects, which are numerous and conspicuous! My garden was on this tour a while ago, early on in my knowledge of gardening in general and relationship with this particular garden, so I remember thinking “July–that’s so late” when they gave me the date. But several ladies assured me that Salem gardens peak in July. When the date for the tour came up, my garden was indeed peaking. I was happy about that in one way, but sad in another–I decided that I didn’t want my garden to have just one peak but rather to “crest” through the summer. So I changed its constitution a bit and brought in more plants picked for their leaves rather than their flowers. Right now the mallows are flowering, the meadowsweet just popped, and the first of the daylilies–but the roses are in a funk and the lady’s mantle is done. Something weird is going on with my bee balm–lots of powdery mildew which I’ve never seen before. But the border plants, germander, calamint, and veronica, are finally established and doing just fine. It’s all a bit subtle, which is what I’m going for, but I’m sure that tomorrow we will be able to peak in on gardens that are really peaking!

Garden First

Garden 8

Garden Mallows

Garden 4

Garden 3

Garden 2

Garden 6

Garden 9

Garden Stroll Poster


Scorched Earth/A Lost Salem Garden

Since I went in deep for the centennial anniversary of Great Salem Fire of 1914 a few years ago I have this date imprinted in my mind: I woke up this morning and my first thought was oh no. So much was lost that day—houses, factories, civic buildings, churches–as the fire devoured several wards of Salem. The recovery effort, which seems remarkably swift and efficient to me, focused primarily and rightfully on rebuilding, but there was an implicit concern for the loss of landscape as well, and so parks were planned and trees replanted. There was one notable Lafayette Street landscape that was lost on forever on that day, however: the garden of George B. Chase. There was no effort to reconstitute this creation; instead the large lot became the site of the new Saltonstall School, which rose from the ashes of the fire pretty quickly. The Chase Garden was indeed fleeting, but fortunately we have two great sources to remember it by: the wonderful 1947 guide book Old Salem Gardens, published by the Salem Garden Club, and several photographs in the American Garden Club’s Archives of American Gardens at the Smithsonian.

Chase Old Salem Gardens

Chase Old Salem Gardens 2

Chase Garden collageJust one of my many copies of the invaluable Old Salem Gardens (1947) with the Chase garden entry; the location of the Chase garden on the 1874 and 1891 Salem Atlases.

The Salem Garden Club ladies who produced Old Salem Gardens, chief among them Club President Mable Pollock, took great care to include historical information and personal reminiscences whenever possible, greatly enhancing the research value of their compilation:  this is no little pamphlet! We hear all about the Chase Garden from the “discussive and chatty” Miss Chase, who grew up on the property, as her memories are transcribed onto the page. She tells us about the beds of ostrich ferns and rhododendrons in the immediate proximity of her family house, above which swayed purple beech and weeping birch trees, and a “large bed containing 72 plants of Azalea mollis bought from Lewis Van Houtte of Belgium”. In the spring there was white narcissus poeticus, followed by red salvia. Laburnum and althaea screened the large vegetable garden, which included salsify, rhubarb, asparagus, peas, beans, carrots, summer squash, tomatoes, onions and corn: the seed of the latter [came from] a cousin, Benjamin Fabens, and was called “Darling’s Early”. It was most satisfactory in every way, for the ears were not too long, and they had deep kernels and a small cob; the husk was quite red, as were the blades….it was the sweetest corn ever eaten at that time. Continuing along towards Salem Harbor along a box-bordered path, we “see” fruit trees and more exotic trees and shrubs, including a very notable varieties of magnolia and viburnum which particularly impressed repeat visitors from the Massachusetts Horticultural Society. Near the back of the garden were beds of roses, and a cutting garden of annuals and perennials, encircled by yet another row of shrubs and trees, including the oldest growth on the property, a locust grove, which nature had planted. All swept away on one day: June 25, 1914.

Chase Garden

Chase Garden AAG 1904 Smithsonian

Chase Garden After

Chase Garden After 2Views of the front and back of the Chase Garden (including Mr. Chase himself on the bench), 1904, Archives of American Gardens, Smithsonian Institution; Ten years later on Lafayette Street: postcard views of the Fire’s immediate aftermath from the (commemorative???) Views of Salem after the Great Fire of June 25, 1914 brochure issued by the New England Stationery Company.