OLD GLOUCESTER HOUSES 
By EDMUND Q. SYLVESTER 
L ET us take a little trip into what is now 
a thriving, prosperous city and, carefully 
avoiding the main street and modern sec¬ 
tions, ramble down some of the side streets, 
looking about us at the old houses which 
have been standing a hundred years and 
more, trying to picture to ourselves the peo¬ 
ple who lived in them and the conditions 
which produced their peculiar charm. How 
they stand out from among the fussy later 
houses like so many arc lamps, shining at 
HOUSES IN MIDDLE STREET, GLOUCESTER 
intervals out of the darkness of a lonely highway; 
or yet more like the beauties of a single stately 
oak among a lot of young immature fellows, and 
not attracting our attention unless we are looking 
for the beauties of nature. And so are the old 
houses of this seashore town, so quiet and dig¬ 
nified, unnoticed and uncared for by the hundreds 
who daily pass them, and only appreciated by the 
occasional observer who knows how to value 
their dignity and simplicity. 
Gloucester up to the time of the Revolution 
was important because of her fishing industries at 
the Grand Banks, and many of the old houses 
date from that time. During the war, however, 
this industry was ruined, many fishing schooners 
were converted into privateers, others allowed to 
rot at the wharves, and others preserved until it 
was safe to engage again in this calling. But, 
after the war, merchants found a much more 
profitable employment in foreign commerce than 
in fishing, and from this time there was a steady 
falling off in the old industry, while the European 
and West Indian trade increased, and many 
of the best residences were built by the mer¬ 
chants who thus grew wealthy. 
It is interesting, however, to notice how 
many of the old houses were built or owned 
by the ministers, as they were called. In those 
days they worked the land, entered more 
into commerce than now and did not receive 
as much money in compensation for their 
services, but instead were given labor and 
produce. 
Going well out on the road toward what 
was once Riverdale, we come to an interest¬ 
ing little old house, its second storey over¬ 
hanging a small front door, and the roof on 
the rear sloping nearly to the ground. T his 
is the old Ellery house, built in 1705 by the 
Rev. John White, who lived there until his 
death. Later it came into possession of a 
family by the name of Ellery, a descendant 
of which was a signer of the Declaration of 
Independence. It is one of the most historic 
houses on the Cape and was at one time also 
a noted tavern. 
Coming back into town and traversing what 
was at one time evidently the residential por- 
ENTRANCE TO THE WHITTEMORE HOUSE 
229 
