In Sandwich, No Bread, Just Dead

From Dave Brigham:

I recently spent a few days at our house in Sandwich, and took a little time to cruise around looking for the backside of the oldest town on Cape Cod. I ended up amid a lot of dead people and places.

I had a short agenda for my tour, but the "site of the ancient homestead" of one of the 10 founding families of Sandwich wasn't on my list. I just happened across it, which is my favorite way of finding stuff for this blog.

Thomas and Anne Tupper received their allotment of land in 1637, as did the nine other families who had relocated from Saugus, which is on the coast north of Boston. The house they built on this site stood until 1921, when it was destroyed by fire, according to the Tupper Family Association of America web site. I have no idea whether this family is the same one that eventually birthed Tupperware.

The Tupper Family Association maintains the site as a public park.

Tupper was a ship's carpenter, trader and land dealer, according to this genealogy account of his life. Anne was his third wife.

I stumbled across the Tupper homestead site after visiting the Saddle and Pillion Graves site. Yes, I will explain, as I had no idea what to expect when I spied that term hovering on Google Maps over a small wooded area on Tupper Road, near Route 6A.

Well, I'm not going to explain, the Sandwich Historical Commission is: "Edmond Freeman, one of the Ten Men from Saugus and the founder of Sandwich is buried here with his wife Elizabeth....They lived out their lives here and when Elizabeth passed away on February 14, 1676, Edmond buried her on a hill on their farm. He marked her grave with a large stone likening to a pillion (a British term for the seat behind the saddle on a horse). With foresight, Edmond also positioned a large stone that resembled a saddle to be used as a monument for his own grave. Family tradition tells us that the headstones reminded Edmond of the early years in Sandwich when he and Elizabeth traveled by horseback over the fields of their farm. Edmond Freeman died in 1682 and was buried beside Elizabeth, the longer stone, 'the saddle,' was placed over his grave."

(Entrance to the Saddle and Pillion Graves.)

(Edmond Freeman's grave.)

(Elizabeth Freeman's grave.)

I don't want to get too deep into the idea of Europeans founding towns in the colonies, but increasingly when I wander around in service of this blog, I find myself thinking about the native population that was here when white folks arrived. I'm ashamed to admit that this is a relatively recent awakening for me. I grew up in a Connecticut town whose legend includes the fact that King Philip -- aka Wampanoag chief Metacom -- burned the town and watched from an overlooking cave during the war between colonists and indigeneous inhabitants that bears his name. The story is almost assuredly untrue, but for years I believed it without thinking too hard about the natives' point of view of the invading forces.

Sandwich and other towns on the Cape and the islands of Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket were spared attacks by Native Americans during the war, according to the Sandwich Historical Commmission. In addition to their isolation from the mainland of Massachusetts, the fortunes of these areas were helped, according to the commission, by "the laymen missionary efforts of two Sandwich men, Thomas Tupper and Richard Bourne, and the loyalty of the friendly Native American population. Tupper and Bourne had learned the Algonquin Indian language and had helped to build Indian churches, and Bourne had been essential in establishing Mashpee and its Meeting House on the border of Sandwich as a legal tract owned by the Native Americans themselves and recognized under Colony law."

I'm always wary when I read how friendly native populations were to the European colonists. Anyway, let's move on.

I also visited the Spring Hill Cemetery along Route 6A, where I found some cool old stones, many of them bearing surnames that adorn street signs across Sandwich.

(I've never seen a grave marker quite like this. The fact that it's in a little shady glen makes it a little spooky.)

Even creepier, though, was this possibly fresh grave I saw.

Established in 1813, the cemetery has stones with great patinas, and nice overgrown nooks.

Just a bit west on Route 6A is the Crow Farm stand.

Founded more than 100 years ago, the farm offers pick-your-own fruits and vegetables throughout the year, as well as tractor rides and special events. The stand wasn't open when I stopped by; I hope it will be open on other visits.

Below is a place that wasn't on my agenda, but when I drove by, I knew I had to swing back around and take a look. It was worth it for the photos, but I also had to endure getting yelled at.

The sign says, "Marise Fawsett's 'Christmas Shop' / Cranberry Shed c. 1850." Opened in 1944, The Christmas Shop closed sometime in the past several years. From the article linked in the previous sentence, the store sounds like it was a magical place to shop and hang out, soaking up the holiday atmosphere.

There's a fairly large parking lot next to the building, so I parked and strolled along Route 6A to take the shots you see above. As I was looking at the side of the building, a woman came out the door and asked, "Can I help you?" I said I was just taking some pictures, as I'd seen the historical marker sign on the front of the place. " Well, this is a private residence," she said in a less than kind manner. "OK," I said. " I didn't know. I was just curious." She reiterated that it was a private home, and I went on my way.

I totally understand that she wasn't happy that I was shooting pictures of her home. But I can't be the first person who saw the sign and the large parking lot and confused the place for a historical site or active retail operation. Maybe she should put up a "Private Property" sign.