Rita's Place

From 1973 to 1975 I lived in a house in Sudbury, Massachusetts with four roommates, two of whom have remained life long friends and, when one of the others moved out in 1975, the replacement roommate eventually became, a few years later, Mrs THC.  It wasn't cheap by the standards of the day, but remarkably inexpensive by the standards of even the 1980s - we each paid $90 a month plus utilities for our own bedrooms with fireplaces for a house on 90 acres of land in the Boston suburbs.  Most of the property was wooded and in the fall we would cut our firewood for the winter.  We also built a large garden to grow vegetables.  One day I was working on expanding the garden with one of my roommates when we came upon a large rock.  The sensible thing to do would have been to simply leave it in place but we weren't sensible, instead deciding to remove it.  We spent 6-8 hours digging and ever so slowly using two logs to lever it until we got the thing out of that hole.  Mission accomplished!  Utterly exhausted by the end but it sure felt fulfilling.  We'd done something concrete, something tangible.  I was in law school at the time which was anything but concrete and tangible.

We did a lot of things together, including going out to eat, and one of my fondest memories is of twice venturing to Rita's Place, a restaurant in Chelsea, a Boston area town on the other side of the Mystic River from Charlestown. In those days, Chelsea was like Charlestown (the setting for so many crime-centered Boston films in the 90s and 2000s, though Chelsea itself was the setting for scenes in Mystic River, Black Mass, The Departed and The Equalizer) except more dangerous, and Rita's Place was on an isolated block surrounded by not much of anything substantial. 

During the week, Rita's operated as a little sub shop but on weekend evenings it offered 12 course dinners for a fixed price of $15 (that was a lot in those days).  You made reservations well in advance, entered through the darkened sub shop, went up a few steps and past the kitchen into a dining room with maybe two large tables and a couple of smaller ones (I can close my eyes and still picture it). We'd go with everyone in the house and an assortment of friends, usually 10 to 12 people in all.

I can't remember details of what was served but what I still remember is the sensation of reveling in how extraordinarily delicious each course was along with the joyous companionship of being among friends.   None of the courses, from appetizers to entrees to desserts were large, but they were all perfect.  The serving pace was leisurely giving us time to enjoy each course and our conversation.  The entire meal took about three hours and we would take a break in the middle to walk around the block to aid our digestion (we knew better than to stray outside that block).  I've no doubt everyone who was there still remembers Rita's.

When I did some research for this post, I discovered Rita's Place stopped its restaurant business a few years later to focus exclusively on catering (and is now known simply as Rita's) and it apparently has continued to thrive in that niche.  You can find its website here.  It says it served nine-course meals back in those days, but we definitely had twelve!

The Sudbury Fight

On April 21, 1676, somewhere between 500 and 1,500 Indian warriors made their closest approach to Boston during what became known as the Sudbury Fight.  It happened during Kings Philip's War of 1675-6, the bloodiest settler-Indian conflict in American history, as measured by the percentage of the male population killed or wounded (THC wrote of the origin, course and memory of the war in the post Bloody Brook).  King Philip (native name Metcomet), lived near the Rhode Island/Massachusetts border and an incident involving him triggered the war.

(Map from King Philip's War by George Ellis & John Morris (1906) via U of Chicago.)

By the late winter of 1675-6, Indian attacks had forced the abandonment of the towns of central Massachusetts.  Settlers in the Connecticut River Valley towns were huddled closely in several towns for protection and small settlements in Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Maine had come under attack.

In March a meeting of Indian warriors at Mt Wachusetts (see map above) resulted in a decision to attack settlements to the east in the direction of Boston, with Sudbury being the immediate objective (reportedly after rejecting an attack on Concord).  Marlboro, Groton and Lancaster were quickly overrun and burned and by the evening of April 20, the warriors were on the outskirts of Sudbury.

At the time, the boundaries of Sudbury were different than they are today, also embracing current-day Wayland as well as Maynard to the northwest. Most of the town's populace was located on the east side of the Sudbury River, in what is now Wayland.  Eastern Massachusetts has been densely settled for more than two centuries, but in the latter part of the 17th century, it was on the frontier.  Beyond the new town of Marlboro, immediately to the west of Sudbury, there were only scattered settlements in the midst of the woodlands until you reached the Connecticut Valley towns.

All of the frontier towns like Sudbury and Marlboro depended upon local militia for protection against Indian raids from the western wilderness and also upon "garrison" houses; selected homesteads strengthened for protection, well-provisioned to withstand sieges and with guns and powder available to which families could flee in times of trouble.  There were six garrison houses in Sudbury.

On April 21, there were about 200 defenders of the Sudbury settlement.  About 80 local militia along with several columns of militia from other towns were in the area that day.

The action opened with an early morning attack by the Indians on the garrison houses as well as a crossing of the Sudbury River and the burning of some homes in the eastern part of town.  The primary target was the Haynes Garrison house, just west of the river, where the siege began at 6 am.


(screenshot from slideshare; an excellent presentation on King Philip's War in Marlboro, worth looking at, it can be found here)

Stationed in Marlboro was a company of about 70 under the command of Captain Samuel Wadsworth.  While most of the settlement had already been burned, Wadsworth's company was stationed at one of the garrison houses to which he had march through Sudbury without being aware of the gathering force of Indians.  Upon hiring firing, Wadsworth took about 50 of his men and began marching towards Sudbury.  On another road between Sudbury and Marlboro, a company of 18 mounted men under Captain Edward Cowell was ambushed, with four of his men killed before the Indians withdrew and he cautiously made his way into Sudbury.

Meanwhile, another company of about 40 from Watertown under Captain Hugh Mason mustered and began marching west to Sudbury's relief upon getting the alarm.  As they pushed into Sudbury they found the Indians on their front withdrawing.

The siege at Haynes Garrison house continued into early afternoon, with constant shooting and unsuccessful attempts by the Indians to set the house afire.  At one point, those in the house watched in horror as 12 Concord men, moving south along the river to help those in Sudbury were ambushed, with only one escaping.  Early afternoon saw the end of the garrison house siege as the Indians withdrew.

It was only later in the day that the reasons for the Indian withdrawals became clear; Wadsworth's company had fallen into yet another ambush and his force was big enough that all of the Indians in the area were needed to annihilate it.  Taking up a position on Green Hill near the Sudbury/Marlboro border, Wadsworth's men waged a desperate struggle that afternoon.

Samuel Wadsworth was already an experienced combat captain in the war.  He came from a distinguished family, arriving in Boston, as a two-year old, with his father Christopher aboard The Lion in 1632.  Christopher's older brother, William Wadsworth, arrived on the same ship and went on to become one of the founders of Hartford, Connecticut.  Young Samuel grew up in Duxbury, near Plymouth, before moving to Milton, southwest of Boston in 1656.  There, he and his wife Abagail raised eight children (five surviving into adulthood) on their 300 acre farm.  One of his sons, Benjamin, six years old in 1676, went on to become President of Harvard College from 1725 to 1737.  Wadsworth House at Harvard, built for Benjamin in 1726, still exists as the second oldest building at the University and served as George Washington's first headquarters when he arrived to take command of the Continental Army in July 1776.

Despite his experience, Wadsworth did not survive the battle - nor did 28 of his soldiers. The survivors were able to break out of the encirclement and seek refuge in the garrison houses.  Little is known of the details of the struggle on Green Hill.  This account is from the 1906 book by Ellis and Morris on the war:

In the evening the worst was confirmed. Captain Wadsworth had learned, soon after his already at Marlboro, of the storm gathering in the rear. Leaving the least efficient of his command in garrison, and taking with him Captain Brocklebank and the troops who had been relieved, he marched back without delay. He was expected. As he neared Sudbury by the south road, a few warriors appearing across the path ahead amid the trees, fled before him toward Green Hill. Experienced soldier though he was he believed that the main body of the foe had been seized with a panic on his approach, and, leaving the road, in eager pursuit rushed into the woods. The flitting of dusky forms and the roar of musketry from all sides soon undeceived him. The troops rallied and fought their way to the crest of the hill and, sheltering themselves behind the trees and rocks, held their own until the evening fell. Then the Indians fired the bushes and grass to windward, and as Wadsworth's weary men fell back in the dusk, blinded by the smoke, and their nerves shaken by the loss of many of their comrades, a panic seized them, the Indians closed in, there was a brief hand to hand conflict, and all was over. 

(Wadsworth monument on Green Hill from U of Chicago page on Ellis & Morris book)

That evening about 125 people - Sudbury families and surviving militia - huddled in the garrison houses on the west side of the river, anticipating a further Indian onslaught the next day.  But with dawn nothing happened.  The Indians had withdrawn to the west.

The Sudbury Fight was a tactical victory for King Philip's warriors.  They had successfully conducted three ambushes - on Cowell and Wadsworth's commands as well as on the Concord men, and destroyed much of Sudbury west of the river.  Fifty two militia were dead, while Indian losses may have been as few as four to six.  Why the withdrawal occurred remains unknown, but King Philip never resumed the offensive, the initiative quickly moved to the colonials, and the war was over by the end of the year. 

THC has always been interested in the events of the Sudbury Fight.  From 1973 to 1975 he lived in Sudbury and the foundations of the Haynes Garrison house were still visible along Water Row, adjacent to the river.  The Haynes Garrison House stood until 1876; this engraving is from a history of Sudbury (found via Along The King's Highway).  He and Mrs THC revisited the site earlier this year and took these photos: