Marion Mclean Mcleod, circa 1850, detail of tintype.
I found a wonderful website that explains in minute detail how Stanley Steamers work, which is verrrry useful for my next scene of Flo in the City, my novel in progress about a girl coming of age in the 1908-1913 era based on the letters on http://www.tighsolas.ca/ my social studies website.
Flo went to visit Wellesley and Framingham and thanks to Google maps I can pretty well see the road they took!
Henry Watters unhooked the catch pedal of his 1908 Stanley Steamer Touring car, adjusted the main burner valve, released the brake, unscrewed the throttle locking screw and pushed the throttle on the wheel forward and said to Flora in the passenger seat on the left and Mae in the back, “Hold onto your hats, this automobile goes fast.” So Mae and Flora did just that.
And they were off, hands on their head, down Homer Street, past Beacon Street, along West Boynton, and Washington Street towards the Wellesley campus. 15 miles in an automobile on beautiful roads, a wonderful 2 hour drive there and back, with a stop at Natwick.
And in the shimmering green auto with the yellow wheel spokes, Flora was experiencing something rather new, the feeling of being the center of attention.
‘Good for you,” a well-dressed man walking a black and white bull terrier bellowed from the side of the road.
Henry, monitored the many gauges in front of them and glanced up at the road from time to time and said “The Steamer is built in Newton. It is a great source of pride.”
“We’re going 20 miles an hour,”Flora said in astonishment.
“The Steamer is the fastest auto in the world, ” said Henry. They built a special racing model. This touring car can go faster than 20,and there’s a Roadster Model that can go as fast as 60.
But I did not buy that one as I felt a doctor had a responsibility not to seem too reckless. This model is perfect for my purposes, visiting patients.”
Washington Street to Clifford Street to Wellesley Avenue, the machine powered on, past the elegant homes of West Boston, with Mae and Flora still holding onto their hats.
“The streets are so wide and beautiful,” said Mae.
“Without good roads ” Henry said, “automobiles cannot be enjoyed. I could never bring the steamer into the city, with its crowds. Too dangerous. But then why would I want to?”
They passed another Steamer and Henry squeezed the auto’s horn. The men in the other auto waves and Flora and Mae responded in kind.
Flora felt euphoric, whatever worries that had been weighing her down disappeared with the trail of water vapor behind the auto.
She was in the new light green linen tulip skirt her mother had made, which added to her good mood, as new items of clothing were a rare thing for Flora.
She had refused the duster Henry had offered at the beginning of the trip. Car rides in the country in internal-explosion cars, fueled by gasoline, were smelly and dusty affairs, but here, in this clean car on these wide clear roads, a woman’s clothes weren’t in much danger.
Hats however were hard to keep on the head. Flora clamped down harder with the palm of her right had on her straw with the white and mauve florets and yellow wings, or feather-pairs.
She wondered what the women at Wellesley wore in the summer and how her hat would measure up.
