Tag Archives: Walking Tours

Tips for Salem “Septoberween”

Residents of Salem have long noticed that our city’s Halloween festivities are not confined to October, hence “Septoberween,” a phrase I’ve heard once or twice. It’s been crowded for some time though—all summer, late spring—people are coming for a general goth spookiness, I think, rather than just for Halloween. Of course, none of it is connected to Salem, or the Salem witch trials, because they were not witches but try telling that to a bridal party wearing little witch hats in July. I’m not sure what’s going to happen to Salem’s dark tourism, but it does seem as if something needs to change in its overall management (I’ve given up on messaging). Whatever happens, if anything at all, will be the result of a top-down decision rather than any impetus from mere residents. After last Halloween season, when weekend crowds of a million people pushed around downtown, I decided that I had experienced my last Salem October: my husband and I are packing up the cats and moving to Maine for a month. Fortunately we have a big family house in York Harbor, which my parents generally vacate for a cozier condo nearby, so I’m going home. I think this is a good solution for my Halloween angst, but we’ll see: I’ll still be commuting to Salem several times a week! Since I’m getting out of town, I thought I would push up my annual little advice to visitors post a bit, especially as I’ve received a lot of email queries over the summer. This is hardly an exhaustive list: if you want that I suggest Destination Salem  (truly the master list of events and a very dynamic site, but skip the “History” sections which are dreadful), or Things To Do in Salem or the dedicated Haunted Happenings site. I am no booster, as regular readers of this blog know, so the most important assertion I can make here is that there is only one museum in Salem, the Peabody Essex Museum (PEM), and the best advice I can give is to avoid all the other venues calling themselves museums if you are seeking authentic objects and/or professional curation based on the most recent scholarship. If you are coming to Salem because you want to learn about the Salem Witch Trials, the PEM offers a lot, but not the whole story: that’s not its mission. However, in the past five years or so, the PEM has really engaged with the Trials, and this year is offering an exhibition entitled The Salem Witch Trials. Recovering Justice. I popped in yesterday and found it very accessible and continuous with its previous exhibitions’ focus on authentic documents and objects.

Given the focus is on recovering justice, I think it would have been nice to exhibit some of the restitution requests (+transcriptions) submitted by victims and victims’ families that are referenced above: these statements by those related to the “Sufferers in the time of the Witchcraft” are very compelling and can amplify the judicial tragedy. The struggle to clear the names of those who were not included in the 1711 Reversal of Attainder could have been given more attention as well—it extended all the way up the 21st century! The exhibition does include the most recent attempt at restitution: the successful campaign of North Andover middle-school students to exonerate Elizabeth Johnson, who confessed to practicing witchcraft and was condemned to death but obtained a reprieve but no reversal. Similar heroic efforts happened in the 1950s when Ann Pudeator “and certain other persons” were legally exonerated, and again in 2001 when those “certain other persons” were named in a formal resolution. The Recovering Justice exhibit invites its onlookers to dig deeper in both primary and secondary sources, and also to visit other galleries in the PEM: the month of October gets its own “chapter” in Salem Stories and related objects and images can also be found in On this Ground: Being and Belonging in America.

News clippings from exoneration efforts in the past (which also offer interesting insights into the commercialization of the Witch Trials in Salem), further reading in the Recovering Justice exhibition (including my colleague Tad Baker’s definitive book), October in Salem Stories and portrait of Witch Trial judge Samuel Sewall by John Smibert, 1733, in On this Ground gallery.

The PEM has a Trials “collection focus” page on its website with FAQs and also offers an audio self-guided “Salem Witch Trials Walk,” but if you want a more personal and narrative experience, you might want to take a walking tour, of which Salem has many. The quality spectrum seems very wide: you could take a tour with someone who has studied early American history for years and has the credentials to prove it, or you could be led around by someone who (literally) just got off the bus. I get asked for recommendations quite often and I am hesitant to offer any, because I just haven’t taken many tours. I am curious about a couple of things, however, and I’ve been working on a longer piece on Salem tourism for a while (now interrupted by the Salem’s Centuries project) so I intend to take more tours in the future. Having just watched them, I’m particularly interested in how tour guides use the physical space of Salem, where so few structures tied to the Trials exist, and also in what kind of context is presented: local, regional, Anglo, global? When you read reviews on Tripadvisor or Google, tourists often comment on authenticity (“all we saw were parking lots”: a paraphrase of a common complaint) or lack thereof: I’m curious how guides compensate for/use the relatively modern streetscape of Salem (the PEM must have noticed the authenticity issue too, as it has used that word in all press materials relating to its exhibitions). So with these questions in mind, I did take a walking tour this past weekend, with Krystina Yeager, a student in the Salem State MA program who was in my Renaissance grad course last spring. Krystina operates a tour called the Historian’s Guide to Salem and produces a podcast as well, and I chose her tour because I was impressed with her work in class but also thought her perspective on the Salem trials might be similar to mine, as she has been more focused on English witchcraft. We set off on a hot Sunday afternoon at a vigorous pace of walking and talking, and I was really glad that the tour group wasn’t too big–maybe 12 or so when the city allows groups of 40. If you’re a mere pedestrian on the streets of Salem you literally cannot get out of the way of such big groups. Krystina had me at the very beginning of her tour when she uttered the name “Martin Luther” as the Reformation is undeniably the biggest factor in instigating and intensifying fears and accusations of witchcraft in early modern Europe. She presented a comparative context throughout while still focusing on the very personal stories and suffering of each and every victim of 1692. It was a very source-based tour: standing before a parking lot and the new building on the site of the former Salem jail, she described conditions within using the detailed restitution requests I referenced above. So that’s how you rise above the parking lot—with some pretty vivid testimony! Krystina explained the Protestant demonization of magic, the power vacuum that gave rise to the odd legal “system” put in place during the Trials, and the character of Giles Corey as close as we could get to the site of his torture–and much more. We wound up at the Salem Witch Trials Memorial downtown, a site that seems both authentic and modern at the same time and certainly an appropriate place to end the story of the “Sufferers in the time of the Witchcraft.” I was exhausted! This tour seemed to echo the whirlwind pace of the Trials themselves over the months of 1692 in its intensity, and I recommend it enthusiastically.

Krystina Yeager explaining Puritan theology and disdain of counter-magic in the courtyard of the First Church and the horrors of the Salem gaol in 1692 in a rather less inspirational spot: clearly tour guides have to be conjurers! Our ending point at the Witch Trials Memorial overlooked by the 17th Century Pickman House, which is now the Welcome Center for both the Memorial and the adjoining Charter Street Cemetery.

And speaking of authenticity, as I have throughout this post, I really can’t recommend the adjoining sites overseen by the Charter Street Cemetery Welcome Center enough, and its establishment was a City initiative, in collaboration with the PEM. A decade ago, both the Witch Trials Memorial and the adjoining Charter Street Cemetery, otherwise known as the “Old Burying Ground,” were being completely overrun by tourists: the walls of the former and graves of the latter were actually endangered by abuse. I don’t even like to think or write about it, if you want to “go” there, read this post, which I typed with my hands shaking. The City stepped up, restored the cemetery and opened an orientation center in the adjoining Samuel Pickman House owned by PEM. Welcome Center staff monitor both the cemetery and the Memorial, and every time I go there, even last Septoberween, there is an air of respect and stewardship for these sacred places. I saw Amber Shannon, another Salem State History grad who works at the Welcome Center, on my way out, keeping her eyes on both the cemetery and the Memorial and clearly steeling herself for the crowds to come. I think everyone in Salem was doing that, this first weekend in September.

Amber Shannon of the Charter Street Cemetery Welcome Center and Rory Raven of Salem on Foot Toursthe first Sunday in September, (relative) calm before the storm. I haven’t been fortunate enough to take one of Rory’s tours, but when I heard him speak at an event he made an impression, and so when some family members visited a couple of years ago I signed them right up. They raved, and so I would certainly recommend his tour as well, especially if you’re interested in a more general tour of Salem and not just the Witch Trials. As I’ve been ranting about here for years now, there’s so much more to Salem!


March Memorials in Boston

This past Sunday, the anniversary of the Boston Massacre, I went into Boston to take the “Massacre and Memory” tour offered by Revolutionary Spaces, the newish organization that maintains and interprets both the Old State House and Old South Meeting House. I always enjoyed going to Massacre reenactments at the former on March 5, but this tour was a whole other dimension of historic interpretation. I was rather amazed at the guide’s ability to present: a) the events of that day in 1770; b) deep background and wide context for the events of the day; c) the divergent sources which presented the events of the day afterwards; d) the day’s immediate and long-term “remembrance”; e) the use of the remembrance of the day by abolition activists in the mid-19th century and anti-busing activists in the twentieth century; f) a very strong sense of both the geography of Revolutionary-era Boston as well as the purposes and perceptions of the revolutionary spaces which we visited; and g) a consideration of how we might tell interpret historic events in the future as we proceed through our digital age. All that in about 2 hours! This was the first tour of the season for our young guide, and she was on fire. No Salem simplistic storyteller was she (what I hear out my front windows when it’s warm: and then Giles Corey was pressed to death (MORE WEIGHT), and then this happened, and then this happened): instead she offered us layers and layers of history: its creation, dissemination, legacy and utility.

Revolutionary spaces indeed: The Old State House, Faneuil Hall (where the first post-massacre meetings were held), and the Old South Meeting House, with George Washington and Andrew Oliver standing by. So many markers in Boston! All in copper and bronze: in the street, on buildings, everywhere. 

The Tour began at the Old State House, before which the Massacre took place, and ended at the Old South Meeting House, where the first memorial massacre orations were held. I had a lot to think about after this layered presentation, so I wanted to go back to Old State House and consider the exhibitions there: the tour ticket included admission to both Revolutionary Spaces buildings. But when I got back to the Old State House, there wasn’t really open admission: there were other scheduled tours which I didn’t want to take so I stomped off in my fashion. I was in a very bitchy mood for about ten minutes as I strode down Tremont Street, because I wanted to process the Boston Massacre on my own terms, this very day, and somehow I felt I was prevented from doing that. But then I came to the Old Granary Burying Ground, and the marker to the five victims of the Massacre therein, which led me to their monument on the Boston Common, and as I was gazing at Crispus Attucks’ prone figure on its plaque, I saw the new memorial to Martin Luther King, The Embrace, in the corner of my eye. So off I went to the presence of The Embrace, which has received rather mixed reviews in our area since its debut in January. I wasn’t sure how I would respond to it—it looks rather intimidating in media images—but I really liked it: it’s smaller in scale and more detailed in reality. And it was fun to see people reacting to it: touching it, walking under it, taking selfies all around it. The engagement with and around this installation reminded me of the very active engagement of Bostonians with the living memory of the Massacre: weeks later and centuries later. And then I walked up the hill to another engaging memorial: Augustus Saint-Gaudens’ masterful monument to Robert Gould Shaw and the Massachusetts 54th right across from the Massachusetts State House. What a memorial trifecta! The thread between these three memorials was African-American history of course, but I didn’t really think about it that was as I was making connections in my mind on my walk. I just felt grounded in Boston history, Massachusetts history, American history.

Memorials: a circle of remembrance from Old Granary to the (new) State House.

[N.B. When I was all worked up I noted my frustration with my exclusion from the Old State House on Facebook: Revolution Spaces staff almost immediately reached out and offered me free admission at my convenience. So now I’m a bit embarassed but impressed with their professionalism!]


A Juneteenth Tour of Salem

I like to craft my own walking tours for every major holiday just for myself, so that I can get in the proper celebratory or thoughtful frame of mind. This weekend, I put together my first Juneteenth tour and it really took some time: I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to focus strictly on Salem sites related to abolition or spaces which are connected to more general African-American history. But it was time well spent as I reconsidered some special people from the past who have always inspired me, and also learned some new stories. There might be two tours leading off into different directions (literally), but I managed to do both pretty easily in an afternoon. As always, I started at Hamilton Hall, the home of the justly-celebrated Remond family of Salem because 1) it is right next to my house; 2) they have served as my “guides” to the nineteenth-century struggles, opportunities, and achievements of free blacks in New England; and 3) As an institution, I think the Hall has made the most serious commitment to African-American History in Salem and there is lots to learn there. This is a subjective tour but objectively I think that Hamilton Hall is the logical starting place for any African-American history walking tour of Salem. The Remonds of Hamilton Hall are being honored this coming week with a marker from the Pomeroy Foundation and the Womens Suffrage Celebration Coalition of Massachusetts for their commitment to the Suffrage movement: more information is here. While I think the overwhelming focus of their advocacy efforts was on abolition rather than suffrage the entire family was focused on improving human rights above all, and the youngest Remond, Caroline R. Putnam, was a dedicated suffragist.

Stop #1: Hamilton Hall, 9 Chestnut Street & the “northern” branch of my tour.

From the Hall I walked down Cambridge Street to the Ropes Mansion on Essex, because I really think it might be a good idea to consider that before this lovely Georgian mansion was known as the “haunted” home of Alison from Hocus Pocus there were enslaved persons held here by Samuel Barnard during his occupancy. If we are going to appreciate and understand  Juneteenth, we must consider what came before. Then I walked over to another house which belongs to the Peabody Essex Museum, the Peirce-Nichols House on Federal Street, to consider the setting of the wonderful 1907 portrait of the Remonds’ successor at Hamilton Hall. Edward Cassell. It’s one of my very favorite photographs of anyone: such dignity of place and person! Cassell is connected to the Remonds through their eldest daughter, Nancy Remond Shearman, so there was really a catering dynasty at the Hall. From the Peirce-Nichols House, I walked all the way down Federal Street to Flint, and then towards North Salem and Oak Street, where Caroline Remond Putnam lived with her husband James and his family, who were also active and prominent abolitionists from Boston. Charlotte Forten, the first African-American graduate of theSalem Normal School and Salem’s first African-American teacher, lived with the Putnams for a while. It’s a short walk from Oak Street along Mason to Harmony Grove Cemetery, where most members of the Remond Family are buried, and according to her diary, a place where Charlotte walked often.

Stop #2: the Ropes Mansion, Essex Street; Stop #3: the Peirce-Nichols House, Federal Street (photograph of Mr. Cassell courtesy of Historic New England); Stop #4: Oak Street (the Putnams’ house at # 9 no longer exists, this woodworking business occupies its site); Stop #5 Harmony Grove Cemetery.

So back at my house on lower Chestnut, I ventured south into a neighborhood associated with Salem African-Americans in the early nineteenth century around High Street, which descended almost down to the water at that time. That’s the thing: the landscape of Salem is so different now that we can’t really envision neighborhoods from this time. There was the large Mill Pond right in the center of Salem, with several African-American families on either side: around High Street on the western shore and on Pond, Ropes, Porter, and Cedar Streets on the easten side. These streets off Lafayette all got wiped out by the 1914 Salem Fire so it’s impossible to see the structures in which they inhabited, but the Salem Directories from the mid-nineteenth century document their residency. The Remonds had a house on Pond Street; Edward Cassell lived on Cedar Street and I came across the most amazing story of another Cedar Street resident in the 1850s: Bacon Tait, a notorious Richmond slave trader who moved north with his common-law, African-American wife, Courtney Fountain and their four children in 1851! What is going on here? I found Courtney Fountain (Tait’s) brother living on Cedar so I suppose that was the draw, but how did Mr. Tait escape the watchful eyes of Salem’s prominent abolitionists? I need to know more! Then it was on to the Derby House,, Derby (and Higginson) Square, the site of much commercial and community activity in the past and the present, and home via Norman and Crombie Streets. This was by no means an exhaustive tour of African-American heritage sites in Salem, but it was a meaningful one for me.

Mill Pond on Henry McIntire’s beautiful 1851 map of Salem; Stop #6: High Street, where Clarissa Lawrence, schoolteacher and aboliltionist, lived in the 4th house down the street; #7 Cedar Street, rebuilt after the Fire but home to several African-American families before, including Edward Cassell, and the family of the notorious Bacon Tait. #8 is the Richard Derby House of the Salem Maritime National Historic Site: constructed by Derby for his son Elias Hasket Derby while he lived just up Derby Street in what is commonly called the Miles Ward House–another example of slavery’s co-existence with Georgian elegance. The Phillips Library of the Peabody Essex Museum has recently digitized a collection of broadsides, and one sheds a bright light on Derby’s slaveowning. Stop #9: Higginson and Derby Squares were very much the center of the Remond Family’s culinary enterprises outside of Hamilton Hall—and 5 Higginson Square was the residence for many Remonds at different stages of their lives. My last (#10) stop on the way back to Chestnut was at Crombie Street, where John Remond’s friend, fellow abolitionist, and culinary competitor Prince Farmer lived: such warriors were they!


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.


Domed Doors

Salem is a great city for doors. There are so many exemplary doors in a succession of architectural styles: First Period, Georgian, Federal, Greek and Gothic Revival, all the Victorian varieties. There are simple plank doors, multi-paned doors, louvred doors, double doors, carved doors, doors with elaborate surrounds and vestibules, and doors of many colors (these have really multiplied over the last decade or so). There are Instagram accounts and hashtags for Salem doors. But one type of door is not very common in Salem: the rounded or arched door. I was looking through the remarkable memory album of G. Albert Lewis at The Library Company of Philadelphia, a volume with incredible illustrations of interiors and exteriors, when I became fixated on the arched entryways of his Philadelphia townhouses. I wondered if Salem had any rounded doors, did a quick Google image search (it was about 11:00 at night, otherwise I would have ran around town), and came up with multiple images of the doors of my own house! I never realized they were so conspicuous; rather I found them incongruous with the attached house next door, with its straightforward Federal entryway. See what I mean?

The second photo above is from the Instagram Account @doorsofsalem where you can see lots more Salem doors.

The double doors, and the entire entrance with bay window above, along with considerable interior alterations and a major addition, are the very tangible results of a considerable investment in the property made by its owner from c. 1860-1890, Willard Peele Phillips. Mr. Phillips was a lawyer, a state representative, and an aficionado of curves: he didn’t just bend the entrance of my house to his will: the parlor pocket doors, the china cabinets in his brand new dining-room, and all the first-floor entryways were rounded as well. He ripped out the elegant slim banister that ascended three stories and replaced it with a mahogany one that is much more bulky but also curvy. The second and third floors were left alone; I guess it was about keeping up appearances. It’s really interesting to compare the pristine house next door to my palimpsest one: 1827 versus 1877. Yesterday I went out in search of more rounded doors and did not find many, but it was fun to snap some beautiful square ones along the way. I’ve been taking photographs of Salem houses for over a decade just for this blog, but there is always a new door to discover.

As you can see, there is a rounded element in several of these Salem doorways in the form of the archways and fanlights, but the actual doors are still standard square (or rather rectangular). Besides my doors, I found arched doors on a famous McIntire summer house on the grounds of the Peabody Essex Museum’s Essex Street campus and its twin across town, constructed by a friend of mine just a few years ago, on Winter and Lafayette Street buildings, and what’s left of the Salem Armory. There are a few Salem churches which also have domed doors, but that’s about it.

But the Federal style which so defines Salem (for now, but maybe not much longer) emphasized light and decoration for its entryways, and so often there is an impression of roundness even if the door is more straightforward. A great example is the doorway of arguably the most beautiful house in Salem, the PEM’s Gardner-Pingree House: its portico and fanlight state (shout) round quite emphatically albeit elegantly. And look at the entrance to my neighbor’s beautiful Italianate house: all you see is curves but the door inside that fabulous vestibule is harmoniously straight.

So then I went back to my inspiration, the Lewis Memory Album at the Library Company, and looked at his doors, and was surprised to find they were not rounded at all—only their surrounds, and dormers! And therein is the magic of architectural texture, evident even on paper.

Illustrations from The old houses and stores with memorabilia relating to them and my father and grandfather / By G. Albert Lewis. The Library Company of Philadelphia.


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