and reflection—dedicated to Colonel William Presco! and the men of Pepperell, Massachuse!s, who marched to ba!le at Bunker Hill in Charlestown during the Revolutionary War. It contains a bronze plaque listing the men who died there, surmounted by carved granite powder horns; the names of all the men in the company are carved on the back. It was unveiled November 1, 1899; Edward Evere! Hale delivered an oration. The other is a stone and metal fountain in Athol, Massachuse!s. As reported in the March 19, 1898, edition of the Greenfield, Massachuse!s, Gaze$e and Courier, it was designed with “drinking sections for man, horses and dogs.” It was a gi" to Athol in memory of Ginery Twichell, a native of the town, from his wife and daughter. The fountain is at the northern end of the common at Athol Center near “the old tavern where he used to stop while driving stage between Bra!leboro [Vermont] and Boston.” Twichell went on to become a member of Congress, president of the Boston and Worcester Railroad, and president of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway. He died in Brookline, Massachuse!s, in 1883. Old postcard views of Athol Center show an a!ractive, leafy oasis, with a bandstand and the fountain as prominent features. Today the site wears an air of forlorn neglect, the fountain apparently no longer functional. It is an odd pastiche of styles, not easily recognizable as the work of Whitman—a rounded square of granite bu!ressed at the corners by leafy protrusions, decorated with bas-reliefs of wreaths and dolphin heads spouting water. These are surmounted by a spray of metal leaves designed to deliver water from the human fountain to the horse trough, while the dolphins supplied water below for dogs. Atop the whole is a seemingly unrelated decorative tangle of oxidized copper whorls and arabesques of leaves and flowers. The most clearly recognizable element of Whitman’s style is the le!ering on the dedicatory plate. The whole, in its disconnection from Whitman’s usual restrained elegance, suggests that she might have been working with a client whose idea of what was tasteful conflicted with her own. However, a possible design antecedent can be found in a book cover a!ributed to Whitman, In a Club Corner, by A. P.
Russell (Houghton, Mifflin, 1890). A rectangular panel frames a rococo jumble of satyrs, cornucopias, and leafy arabesques; it is possible that Twichell’s widow, Catherine M. (Burt) Vinal, admired the book design and wanted something similar in memory of her husband. Whitman’s own headstone in Mount Auburn Cemetery bears li!le of the artistry and distinctive le!ering that define so much of her work. It gives no clue to who is buried in this grave, being decorated only with a cross and the words Sursum corda (Li" up your hearts). In October 1889, Martin Brimmer concluded an address at Wellesley College with these words: “[If] I were to sum up in a word the most fruitful lesson of the past, it would be, Sursum corda! Hold high your hearts. Keep high your aims. Give of your best to the art you cherish, remembering its highest purposes, to reveal the secrets of nature and the aspirations of man, to interpret God’s work to the world.” Sarah Wyman Whitman, who gave of her best to the art she cherished, directed that those words be inscribed on her gravestone. Information on the gravestones at Mount Auburn Cemetery appeared last year in the Mount Auburn Friends’ magazine, Sweet Auburn. Walker was assisted in his research by Meg Winslow, curator of Historical Collections at Mount Auburn Cemetery; Stanley Cushing, curator emeritus of Special Collections at the Boston Athenaeum; and Mary L. Kwas, an independent researcher who informed him about the existence of the Athol Center fountain.
HistoricNewEngland.org
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