hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Ellen M. Wright 60 0 Browse Search
Winter Hill (Wyoming, United States) 46 0 Browse Search
Winter Hill (Massachusetts, United States) 42 0 Browse Search
Guy C. Hawkins 34 0 Browse Search
Worcester (Massachusetts, United States) 28 0 Browse Search
Charles Forster 25 3 Browse Search
Charles D. Elliot 24 4 Browse Search
Frank Mortimer Hawes 23 1 Browse Search
John Tufts 23 1 Browse Search
Chester Adams 22 0 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in Historic leaves, volume 5, April, 1906 - January, 1907.

Found 2,696 total hits in 1,687 results.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ...
own beauty and venerable dignity, which cannot fail to impress one gazing up at their gnarled and time-worn branches. This spot is called one of the most sacred in all sacred Cambridge. The neighborhood of the common may be called one of the most beautiful, from the profusion of elm and other trees which adorn it, many of them in their prime. A short distance over the Cambridge line, in Arlington, stands the great Whittemore elm, which is said to have been set out by Samuel Whittemore in 1724. Not very long ago there were two trees, standing on opposite sides of the street, which together formed a most imposing entrance to the pleasant town of Arlington. In an article on historic trees in the New England Magazine for July, 1900, from which many of the statements in this paper are taken, we note that the elm outranks all others in the number of times it is mentioned. Elms, singly or in groups, are mentioned thirty-five times, while oaks are mentioned only six times, fruit tree
g a long tap root, thrive best on the spot where the acorn is planted. While the Waverley oaks are not as large nor as old as the big Redwoods of California, they are the largest and oldest trees we have, and we are correspondingly proud of them. Doubtless there is not another group of such notable trees in the eastern states. There are twenty-five of them, the largest sending up its trunk eighty feet into the air, and measuring eighteen and one-half feet, five feet above the ground. In 1845, one of the smaller trees was cut down. Lowell counted the rings and found they numbered seven hundred and fifty. So that Agassiz' estimate that they must be in the neighborhood of a thousand years of age was not far wrong. The distinguishing mark of the oak is its horizontal branching. Dr. Holmes has spoken of this and says: All the rest of the trees shirk the work of resisting gravity; the oak alone defies it. It chooses the horizontal direction for its limbs, so that their whole weight
elm in town stood alone in its glory in what was known as Phillips pasture on Fort Hill, and dated probably from 1700. There was also a very tall English elm on Sudbury street, on the old Storer estate; and on the edge of High street, in what was then Quincy place, stood three handsome English elms, supposed to have been set out early in 1700. Opposite the Old Granary Burying Ground stood a row of fine trees, which originally formed an avenue known as Paddock's Mall, which were planted in 1762. As Paddock was coach-builder to the Tory gentry, these were spared by the British during their occupation of Boston, but the trees suffered, later, from the hands of the patriots. Some of them survived until 1874, when they were removed, an act which excited the indignation of Longfellow, and doubtless others, when he read in the morning paper the news of the felling of the last of the Paddock elms. An elm, believed to have been one of the Paddock elms transplanted, was sacrificed in the
y lowland, are supposed to be a relic of the first palisado built to protect the infant town from Indians and wild beasts. Harvard College yard can boast of a liberty tree and a rebellion tree, though they are not known by these names. The first stood south of Harvard Hall, and witnessed many gatherings of students in revolt against unpopular tutors. The name was afterward transferred to the Class Day tree. The rebellion tree, standing at the eastern front of Hollis Hall, was planted in 1792, and was the centre of patriotic meetings, and also meetings for the purpose of protesting against what they considered college injustice and tyranny. The father of Colonel T. W. Higginson set out many of the trees in the yard about 1818. To President Josiah Quincy, also, we owe much of the beauty of the college yard. Inseparably connected with Harvard College and Cambridge is the thought of Lowell and his beloved Elmwood. Among its noble trees are two sturdy elms brought from Englan
Dexter streets, must be at least two hundred years old. The Stone elm, East Watertown, stands near the corner of Washington and Grove streets. It is said to have been brought from Fresh Pond in 1763. On the Brooks estate, at West Medford, are several old trees, and some of them, the hickories, if tradition may be believed, were in their prime at the time of the Revolution. A black walnut was planted on the estate some time previous to 1768. Mr. Peter C. Brooks set out a horse-chestnut in 1810, and an elm tree at a later time. On Main street, Medford, are three elm trees which are of interest, not so much from their age, which is said to be fifty or sixty years, but from the fact that their immediate ancestor was brought from England in a bandbox at an early date. Until within ten or fifteen years a row of fine elm trees could be seen over-topping the houses along Inman street, Cambridge. They marked the line of an old road, which is shown on all Revolutionary maps, which le
s planted about the same time on land which Simon Stone chose for his dwelling-place soon after his arrival in 1636. The old gardens on Beacon Hill have long ago made room for modern buildings, but one of the trees of the orchard in Watertown, a pear tree, is still standing in Old Cambridge Cemetery, twisted and gnarled by the storms of two hundred and sixty years. Until within a year or two, it has borne fruit, hard and knotty like its own trunk. Tree vandalism is not a new thing, for in 1635 the town passed an order to prevent the trees planted in the settlement from being spoiled. So tree-planting went merrily on, with as little conception of the great events which should take place under their branches a hundred years or more later as we have when we plant for the future on Arbor Day. Of the other trees on Boston Common, the oldest are those in the Beacon street mall, set out in 1815 or 1816. This was the mall which Doctor Holmes so loved, where the Autocrat and the School
vement, and the final triumph of its advocates, the progress of science, the inventions which contribute so much to our happiness, the birth of literature and art in America,—when we think of what all this means, the thought of human achievement stimulates us to try to keep up to the high standard set by our predecessors, especially those who rocked the cradle of Liberty in the troublous times preceding the Revolution. On the first complete map of Boston, drafted by Captain John Bonner in 1722, is a record of three trees only, standing at the time the first settlers came. One of these, represented as the largest, was the Old Elm on Boston Common, blown down in the great storm of 1876. The two others were near the middle of what is now Park street, both long since victims of the march of time. A chair made of the wood of the Old Elm is now in the Boston Public Library. One of its descendants was planted on the hill where the Soldiers' Monument stands in 1889, but it is not marke
uit, and the grandam is telling her little charge that she picked the first apples that grew on that early tree, long ago when Grandfather Cotton lived there and was minister to the first church. While we are in this hill garden, let us take a look across the basin of the Charles and see if we cannot perceive the outlines of another orchard lying in the edge of Watertown, which was planted about the same time on land which Simon Stone chose for his dwelling-place soon after his arrival in 1636. The old gardens on Beacon Hill have long ago made room for modern buildings, but one of the trees of the orchard in Watertown, a pear tree, is still standing in Old Cambridge Cemetery, twisted and gnarled by the storms of two hundred and sixty years. Until within a year or two, it has borne fruit, hard and knotty like its own trunk. Tree vandalism is not a new thing, for in 1635 the town passed an order to prevent the trees planted in the settlement from being spoiled. So tree-planting
he Liberty tree; it read, This tree was planted in 1646, and pruned by order of the Sons of Liberty, February 14, 1766. This would prove the tree was one of the very earliest in Boston. The grand old patriarch witnessed and inspired many stirring scenes after that, during Revolutionary times, for the anti-tea party was organized here November 3, 1773, and the Sons of Liberty always met beneath its branches, or in the tavern close by, until it was cut down by a party of roistering British in 1775, when it supplied the Tories with fourteen cords of wood. The trees in the Granary Burying Ground were planted in 1830; those on Copp's Hill in 1843. Leaving Boston, our first thought turns naturally toward historic Cambridge, where we shall find many old trees. The first of these to pass before our mind's eye is the Washington elm. A monument set at its base bears this inscription, written by Longfellow: Under this tree Washington first took command of the American army, July 3, 1775.
the same name, the latter still standing in 1883. The junction of Essex and Washington streets, which was in Revolutionary days known as Hanover square, was marked by a number of splendid elms, the largest of which was first called the great tree. It was not till 1765 that the name Liberty tree was given it, at a patriotic celebration in honor of the expected repeal of the Stamp Act. It had already figured in many demonstrations of revolutionary feeling. On the repeal of the Stamp Act, in 1766, all the trees in Hanover square were decorated to assist in the jubilant celebration which followed; and at that time a plate was affixed to the Liberty tree; it read, This tree was planted in 1646, and pruned by order of the Sons of Liberty, February 14, 1766. This would prove the tree was one of the very earliest in Boston. The grand old patriarch witnessed and inspired many stirring scenes after that, during Revolutionary times, for the anti-tea party was organized here November 3, 1773
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ...