Boston's Skinny House

Boston's North End is one of the oldest parts of the city. Although most of the buildings are now multi-story brick buildings, up until the early 20th century the neighborhood was made up primarily of wooden Colonial-era buildings.

Here's a description of traveling through the old North End at night from H. P. Lovecraft's story "Pickman's Model":

When we did turn, it was to climb through the deserted length of the oldest and dirtiest alley I ever saw in my life, with crumbling-looking gables, broken small-paned windows, and archaic chimneys that stood out half-disintegrated against the moonlit sky. I don't believe there were three houses in sight that hadn't been standing in Cotton Mather's time - certainly I glimpsed at least two with an overhang, and once I thought I saw a peaked roof-line of the almost forgotten pre-gambrel type, though antiquarians tell us there are none left in Boston. 

Lovecraft was an antiquarian himself, and wrote that paragraph after a visit to to the North End in 1925 or 1926. Unfortunately for him (and for anyone who loves architecture and history), the area was considered a slum. Most of the wooden houses were demolished shortly after his visit to build the more modern brick buildings that are seen there today.

The North End before urban renewal in the 1920s. You can see more photos here.

Some of the original old buildings still remain, including the Paul Revere house and the Old North Church. A few other old houses are hidden here and there, including Boston's skinniest house.

The Skinny House is located across from the entrance to Copp's Hill Burying Ground. The four story, 18th-century home is Boston's narrowest dwelling, being only 10 feet wide at the end facing the street, and narrowing to a mere three feet at the other end. I'm getting a little claustrophobic just thinking about it! On the fourth floor, the ceilings are only six feet four inches high. You need to be both skinny and short to live in this building.

According to legend, the house was built by a man named Joseph Eustus. Joseph was left the tiny strip of land when his father died, while his brother was left a much larger adjacent plot. The brother built a spacious house on his plot, which had a prized view of the harbor, and assumed that Joseph would just abandon his miniscule inheritance. After all, it wasn't it too small to build a house on?

Not if you were angry about being short-changed in your father's will. Spitefully, Joseph built a very tall narrow house immediately next to his brother's new home. It was tall enough to block his view of the harbor. His brother's large house has long since disappeared, but Joseph Eustus's skinny house remains to this day.

The Skinny House is a private residence, so be respectful if you walk by. I found my information about the legend in Joseph Citro and Diane Fould's Curious New England. The Unconventional Traveler's Guide to Eccentric Destinations.

The Creepiest Book in Boston

The Highwayman, by George Walton

Way back in the early 1800s, a highwayman named George Walton terrorized New England. A native of Jamaica, Walton robbed banks, stole horses, broke into houses and held people up by gunpoint along the region's isolated roads.

Walton would just be another forgotten criminal if it he hadn't tried to rob George Fenno of Springfield, Massachusetts in 1833. Fenno resisted, so Walton shot him and then rode off. Unfortunately for the highwayman, Fenno's wounds weren't fatal, and he was later able to identify him.

While in prison, Walton penned an autobiography, called The Highwayman. To honor the man who put him in prison, he requested that after he died Mr. Fenno be given a copy of the book.

With one creepy catch. Walton specified that the book had to be bound in his own skin.

Walton died in prison in 1837. Surprisingly, the authorities honored his wishes regarding the book. After performing an autopsy, they removed his skin and cured it like leather. A piece of the skin was then sent to a bookbinder, who was asked to cover a copy of The Highwayman in it.
(Although the he wasn't told what leathery material he was working with, he had disturbing nightmares while it was in his possession.)

Even more surprisingly, George Fenno accepted the book. Generations later, one of his descendants gave it to the Boston Athenaeum, where it still resides today.

I joined the Athenaeum last year. It has a great collection of books, the building has great architecture, and it's filled with art. The Highwayman is kept in the Athenaeum's rare book collection, and wisely is not shown to visitors. I don't think I'd want to see it even if it were available.

I got most of my information from Joseph Citro and Dianne Fould's Curious New England. The Boston Athenaeum has a page about the book here, which is where I got the image from.

Jeff Berlanger's Weird Massachusetts

Author Jeff Berlanger has an article on Boston.com about weird attractions in Massachusetts. He covers a mix of places historic (Dungeon Rock), paranormal (the Bridgewater Triangle), and kitschy (the birthplace of tupperware in Leominster).



Berlanger is the author of the book Weird Massachusetts , which is brought to us by the same people who produced Weird New England. I own Weird New England - it's an entertaining and heavily illustrated coffee table book. Weird Massachusetts is the same type of book. It would make a good gift for a kid who's interested in these things, or someone who wants a quick overview of the bizarre things in the Bay State. Joseph Citro and Dianne Fould's Curious New England covers similar content, but is aimed at an older audience, is a small paperback, and includes explicit driving directions to the various locations.

It's interesting that all these books use words like "weird" or "curious" to describe things that in the past would have been part of everyday life. "Of course there are little monsters in the woods, sea monsters on the beach, and ghosts almost everywhere else", our ancestors would say. "What else would there be?" It would be weird for them if the world were otherwise. John Josselyn wouldn't be surprised by any of it!