The Anne Hutchinson Statue at 100 & the Bumpy Road that Put a “Heretic” in Front of the State House

Preface

On November 5^th, 2022, over a thousand residents and visitors to Quincy gathered under an unseasonably blue sky to celebrate the dedication of a statue to a founding mother. The monument consists of a 7.5-foot bronze statue of Abigail Adams and two flanking stone tablets inscribed with significant quotes from her letters. This statue pairs with two others that preceded it within the Hancock Adams Common, those of John Adams and John Hancock. As a set, these statues form a triptych honoring the remarkable number of heroes (and heroines) in the Revolutionary generation that hailed from Quincy, Massachusetts.

The process of placing the Abigail Adams statue is an exemplar of the best that comes from municipal and community collaboration. Beginning in the early spring of 2022, a group of diligent Quincy women organized to point out the lack of female representation within the Hancock Adams Common. The City recognized the logic behind these arguments and swiftly began to make plans to rectify the situation. Within a matter of months, Sergey Eylanbekov – the sculptor of the statues of John Adams and John Hancock – completed a draft for the new statue. Over the summer, further collaboration between the community group and the City decided upon the interpretive elements that would accompany it. The end result has quickly become a photographic destination in the city.

During the preparations for the placing of the Adams statue, the 100^th anniversary of another monument to a significant Quincy woman was marked – that of the statue to Anne Hutchinson at the Massachusetts State House. However, the story of how that statue came to be could not be more different than that of the Abigail Adams statue.

“What is to be done with the statue of Anne Hutchinson?”

So began a June 25^th, 1922, Boston Globe article about that very question. For just over two months a bronze likeness in heroic scale of the Puritan woman had lain on her back on a balcony at the front of the Massachusetts State House. She watched the sun and clouds pass overhead with sightless eyes, as the men inside debated her ultimate fate. Nearly 300 years had passed since her death, and yet Anne Hutchinson was still attracting controversy. The article went on to detail the miscommunications that led to the statue being left in limbo. With barely concealed delight the author described legislators nervously deferring when approached for comment, and quoted gossip gleaned from secretaries in various State House offices. “An official embarrassment” the author dubbed the whole debacle.[1]

But how exactly does an 8-foot bronze statue show up at the State House without someone knowing to expect it?

The saga began in 1914. On July 26^th of that year, The Boston Globe published an announcement that the Arlington sculptor, Cyrus Dallin, had been chosen to “make the sketch model for the proposed statue of Anne Hutchinson.”[2] Dallin was already famous in Boston for his contest-winning design for the equestrian statue of Paul Revere – which would eventually be cast and placed in the North End in 1940 – and for his “Appeal to the Great Spirit” – which was completed in 1909 and still stands outside the front entrance to the Museum of Fine Arts. This new statue of Anne Hutchinson, the article stated, was going to sit in the vestibule of the Boston Public Library opposite the statue of Sir Henry Vane – a former colonial Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and a political supporter of Hutchinson. The movement to fundraise for the statue was spearheaded by the Massachusetts State Federation of Women’s Clubs and several prominent Boston families.

However, by 1920 the project had already run into some complications. Though funds for the statue were steadily being acquired, and a plaster model of the piece had been completed, a location for the final statue had yet to be secured. Reportedly, the Boston Public Library refused to take the piece, though no reason was ever cited.[3] So, the Anne Hutchinson Memorial Association – a volunteer group that formed to organize fundraisers for the statue – turned its eyes toward Beacon Hill. Afterall, Cyrus Dallin was a member of the State Art Commission.

On June 18^th, 1920, Walter Gilman Page, chairman of the State Art Commission, accepted the plaster casting of Anne Hutchinson in a small ceremony held within the halls of the Massachusetts State House. “The statue, which is colored to represent bronze, is placed on the second floor to the north of the entrance to the Hall of Flags and across the corridor from the bas relief memorial to Gov. Curtis Guild.” The Boston Globe reported. Page gave brief, but effusive remarks at the ceremony:

“As a member of the Art Commission of the Commonwealth and in that capacity representing His Excellency the Governor, on this occasion of the unveiling of the temporary statue of Anne Hutchinson, I am glad to pay my share of tribute to her memory.

[…]

She represents the supreme and lofty nature of the best of women of all time and of every age and it is most fitting in these days when woman is coming into her own, that the plan to place here in our Massachusetts capitol a memorial to one of the greatest of her sex should be purely consummated, and I trust that in two years, or even less, this temporary statue will give way to one similar but in enduring bronze, which may be accepted at that time by the Governor of the Commonwealth with due and proper ceremony.” [4]

From that point, the Memorial Association had two years to raise enough funds for Dallin to cast the statue in bronze. If they did so, Page assured them that the Governor would find a fitting home for the statue at the State House.[5]

Just under two years later, on April 13^th, 1922, The Globe reported that the final bronze cast of Dallin’s statue would be placed at the State House the next day.[6] However, the April 14^th afternoon edition of The Globe, ran the following announcement:

“There will be no unveiling today or tomorrow of a statue of Anne Hutchinson at the State House, as reported. Whether the statue in question will be accepted by the State will be considered at the meeting of the [Governors’] Council next week.

It is said that the Council was informed that the statue already had been accepted by Gov. Coolidge and his Council. There is said to be some doubt as to whether Gov. Coolidge and the Council took such action. Information on the latter point is now being secured.”[7]

The crux of the holdup seemed to be that no one had informed the State Legislature that it was going to accept Dallin’s finished bronze sculpture after receiving the plaster model in 1920. Not to mention that there had been a change in gubernatorial administration. Calvin Coolidge was elected Vice President in 1920, and Channing H. Cox had replaced him as Governor in January 1921. There were also whispers around the capitol building about the appropriateness of displaying a “controversialist” figure like Anne Hutchinson at the State House.[8]

But just who was Anne Hutchinson? And why would she still be considered a “controversialist” 300 years after her death?

Anne Marbury Hutchinson was born in July 1591, in Alford, England, the daughter of Francis and Anne Marbury. Her father was a minister already somewhat infamous within the Church of England for espousing views consistent with the tenents of Puritanism. – Puritanism was a subset of the Church of England that thought the English Reformation had not done enough to purify the Church of the pomp and ceremony associated with Catholic religious services. In 1578, Marbury was jailed for speaking out too harshly against the hierarchy of the Church of England. He believed that the Church had a habit of appointing poorly educated clergy, and he said as much in front of the wrong bishop. Undeterred after finishing a prison sentence for these beliefs, Marbury once again found himself in legal trouble in 1590 and he was placed under house arrest.

Thus, in the first formative years of Anne’s life, Francis Marbury provided his daughter with a tangible example of spiritual integrity. Marbury spoke his mind and accepted the consequences of his actions, but he did not recant what he believed. This same level of courage and integrity Hutchinson herself would embody years later.

But that was not the only lesson that Marbury provided to Anne. He was also adamant that his daughters would be educated alongside his sons. In the 17th century, not many girls were afforded an education at all, much less one equal to that of their brothers. But Francis Marbury made sure that his daughters could not only read and write, but also understand and argue theology.

In 1612, roughly a year after her father’s death, Anne married William Hutchinson, a wealthy textile merchant from her hometown. They settled back in Alford, but soon began making the 24-mile trek to Boston, England to hear the charismatic new minster at St. Botolph’s church. This was how the Hutchinsons became followers of the Puritan minister John Cotton.

At this point, it becomes important to understand some of the basic tenents of Puritan dogma.

First, Puritans were believers in the theological principle of “predestination.” They believed that God had already determined whether an individual’s soul was saved or damned long before their birth, and that an individual could not change that. Many of the most famous Puritan sermons preached about the fate awaiting those who were not saved, and described in gory detail the tortures that were to be found in Hell.

In an attempt to avoid nurturing congregations of overly anxious nihilists, Puritan ministers also preached that there exists a “covenant of grace” between God and an individual. This covenant promised that people with God-giving faith would be saved.

However, there exists a paradox between these two tenents. Namely, that it was theoretically possible for someone to lead an entirely immoral life and still be awarded salvation.

The Puritans worked around this paradox by preaching a “covenant of works.” The covenant of works was an extensive set of social rules that Puritan congregants believed proved they were worthy of being God’s chosen. The covenant of works dictated everything from the form and function of church services, to children’s education, to how individual members of a community were permitted to dress based on their profession. This social code was also a moral code. How well one adhered to the covenant of works was a sign of the likelihood of one’s salvation.

In addition to these rules and complicated twists of theology, most Puritans also firmly believed that the final Judgment Day was imminent. Many followers of Puritanism lived their lives preparing themselves for the apocalypse and looking for signs from God that they were not condemned to Hell. This meant that their communities tended to be paranoid, tense, gossipy, and prone to spontaneous acts of extreme behavior (e.g. the Salem Witch Trials).

Reverend John Cotton’s message deviated slightly from Puritan orthodoxy on the matter of the covenant of works and the covenant of grace. Cotton chose to emphasize that one’s salvation was truly a matter of personal faith, and downplayed the covenant of works. He never directly called for his congregants to go against the laws of the Church or of their community, but rumors that he held dangerous views plagued his career, nevertheless.

The Hutchinsons found Reverend Cotton’s preaching appealing, and they became devoted attendees of his sermons. So, when Cotton left England, fleeing legal troubles involving his “nonconformism,” the Hutchinsons followed him to Boston, Massachusetts a year later.

The Massachusetts Bay Colony in the 1630s was the haven of Puritanism. Its hub, Boston, was the manifestation of John Winthrop’s vision of “a city on a hill.” For the Puritans, Boston was meant to be a beacon of faith and morality in an “uncivilized wilderness.” And the success of the wider colony would show the world the righteousness of their interpretation of scripture. As a result, the Puritans of Massachusetts were ruthless in defending against anything they perceived to be a threat, even if that threat came from within their own community.

When the Hutchinsons settled in Boston they were two of the wealthiest residents of the town. They built a large house on the site of what is now the Old Corner Bookstore in Downtown Crossing. But in addition to this large house in the heart of the burgeoning community, the Hutchinsons also obtained land for grazing on an island in Boston Harbor, as well as 600 acres of farmland on Mount Wollaston – a plot that would stretch from Wollaston Hill north to the Neponset River in modern-day Quincy and Milton. This land grant was a convenient retreat outside of Boston, as Anne’s brother-in-law Reverend John Wheelwright – another “nonconformist” preacher like Reverend Cotton – became the new minister at Mount Wollaston. The Hutchinsons split their time between the two communities.

While living in England, Hutchinson had become known for hosting religious meetings at her home. These meetings were commonly called “coventicles.” Functioning essentially as bible study groups, during a coventicle meeting members of a congregation would discuss recent sermons by their ministers and theology more broadly, thus expanding their religious education. The majority of the attendees at coventicles were women, and they afforded some degree of leadership within the community. Hutchinson, being the daughter of an outspoken minister and unusually well-educated for her time, began to lead conventicles herself.

Hutchinson resumed this practice once her family settled in Massachusetts. At first, it was just the women of her parish that attended, but soon men from the community began turning up as well. Even the Governor of Massachusetts, Sir Henry Vane was known to attend. This alone was not alarming to the orthodox Puritan ministers of Boston. However, almost as soon as Hutchinson had arrived in Massachusetts, rumors began to spread that she held unorthodox views, and that she was using the conventicle meetings as a platform to criticize ministers who relied too heavily on the covenant of works. This, paired with her close association with Reverend Cotton and Reverend Wheelwright, only raised more suspicion.

The Puritan orthodoxy of Massachusetts believed that Cotton, Wheelwright, Hutchinson and their supporters were dangerous. They accused the group of being Antinomians – members of a radical sect that disregarded all secular and religious laws – which they were not. Beyond just the fear that indolence and lawlessness might run rampant throughout their holy experiment, the Puritan leaders knew that the success of their colony was entirely dependent on maintaining social cohesion. Disagreements of any kind could lead to a schism, and that was not something that they could risk. Cotton, Wheelwright, and Hutchinson happened to poke at a particularly sore spot within the Puritan faith, but the dissent itself was the unforgivable sin.  

After the election of 1637, John Winthrop, one of Boston’s founding English settlers and a thoroughly orthodox Puritan, replaced Henry Vane as the colony’s governor. This meant that Cotton, Wheelwright, and Hutchinson’s political cover dissolved overnight. John Wheelwright was quickly banished for his views, and John Cotton narrowly avoided the same fate by walking back his criticisms for the covenant of works.

In November of 1637, Anne Hutchinson was called to trial on the accusation that she disturbed the peace by promoting controversial opinions and slandering ministers. During two days of examinations, Hutchinson performed admirably. She kept her temper in check and responded to the questions presented with wit and deft evasion. However, towards the end of the second day, Hutchinson made a startling announcement. She had received a prophecy directly from the Almighty. She said:

“You have no power over my body, neither can you do me any harm—for I am in the hands of the eternal Jehovah, my Saviour, I am at his appointment, the bounds of my habitation are cast in heaven, no further do I esteem of any mortal man than creatures in his hand, I fear none but the great Jehovah, which hath foretold me of these things, and I do verily believe that he will deliver me out of your hands. Therefore take heed how you proceed against me—for I know that, for this you go about to do to me, God will ruin you and your posterity and this whole state.”[9]

This was all the evidence that the court needed to convict her. And after four months of house arrest, Hutchinson was sentenced to banishment as she would not recant her beliefs nor her prophecy.

A few days after the verdict was read, Anne and her husband travelled to their country home at Mount Wollaston and tarried there for a while before the term of Anne’s banishment began. The Hutchinsons never returned to Massachusetts, though some of their older children were spared from the banishment. Anne and William played a role in the founding of Rhode Island. But when William Hutchinson died in 1641, Anne once again uprooted her family and settled further south in the colony of New Netherlands, in an area that is now the Bronx, New York. Tragically, in 1643 Anne and six of her fourteen children were killed during a Native American raid on her homestead – part of the skirmishes of Keift’s War, one of many such conflicts between Native Americans and European colonists in the 17^th century.

Debate over Hutchinson’s vices and virtues has been a central feature of her 400 year old legacy. At the time of her banishment, Governor John Winthrop dubbed Anne Hutchinson “the American Jezebel.” Edith Curtis, in her 1930 biography of Hutchinson, bestowed the title of “the American Joan of Arc.” In his 1892 book Three Episodes of Massachusetts History, Charles Francis Adams discussed the Antinomian Controversy: “Not only were the points in dispute obscure, but the discussion was carried on in a jargon which has become unintelligible; and from a theological point of view, it is now devoid of interest.” But he also posited the idea that Anne Hutchinson and her allies sowed rebellious seeds within the community of Mount Wollaston, which eventually sprouted into the spirit of the Revolutionary generation.[10] Today, Hutchinson is widely accepted as a martyr for the cause of religious liberty and women’s rights, and she is raised up as a hero on those merits. In 1922, however, that legacy was still unsettled, and it played a central role in the debates about the Hutchinson statue.

How Anne Hutchinson Finally Got her Place on Beacon Hill

Over the course of April, May, June, and July 1922, meetings were held to discuss the fate of the Anne Hutchinson statue. Walter Gilman Page, chairman of the State Art Commission, appeared twice before the Governor’s Council to argue in the statue’s favor. Cyrus Dallin himself appeared at one of these meetings. However, The Globe quoted one member of the Governor’s Council off-the-record: “had it not been for a misunderstanding by some of the original donors, members of old Boston families, the statue would probably never have been accepted by the Commonwealth.”

There were two main obstacles holding up the decision:

First, since 1920, the State Legislature had wrested greater control over the décor within the grounds of the State House, following an incident where Governor Cox accepted a statue of a WWI pilot as a favor to a personal friend, the pilot’s father. Miffed at not being consulted on the matter, the Legislature passed a bill in 1921 stating explicitly that any gifts of public art had to be approved by them first.[11]

Additionally, no one could confirm whether the State had officially agreed to accept the final bronze copy of the statue. The June 1922 Globe article described the problem thusly:

“It seems that the State had merely “received” the original plaster model on June 17, 1920, and had not “accepted” it or agreed to “accept” any other model of Anne Hutchinson. The distinction apparently is this: You can present something to the State and if the State “receives” it, the officials are at liberty to throw it out the window or hide it in a basement closet; whereas, “acceptance” implies an obligation to handle with care and show to your friends.

[…]

So when the donors of the Anne Hutchinson statue arrived with the bronze figure on their backs, so to speak, they were told to wait outside. Whatever obligation there may have been for the State to accept it, they learned that the Legislature alone had the power.”[12]

There was also the matter of Anne Hutchinson’s reputation. Ellen Mudge Burrill, a secretary in the sergeant-at-arms’ office, was quoted as saying “she has heard some objection to [the statue] because of Anne’s disputed claims of immorality and her banishment from Massachusetts Bay Colony on religious grounds.”[13]

As part of his denial of Antinomian sympathies, Reverend John Cotton testified against Hutchinson during her trial. During his testimony he said, “although I have not heard, neither do I think, you have been unfaithful to your Husband in his Marriage Covenant, yet that will follow upon it.”[14] Other contemporary descriptions of the Antinomian Controversy also used language evocative of infidelity to describe the actions of the individuals involved. There is no evidence to suggest that Hutchinson was ever literally unfaithful to her marriage. Rather, it is generally accepted that Cotton and others were speaking in metaphor.[15] However, scholarship until roughly the 1970s sometimes took Cotton literally,[16] and so Hutchinson’s reputation for “immorality” became part of the debate surrounding the statue in 1922.

There may also have been some lingering umbrage over the recent passage of the 19^th Amendment granting women suffrage. The Globe quoted one member of the legislature’s Governor’s Council off the record:

“Anne Hutchinson, so far as I have read of her history, was a controversialist in religion, though she may also be regarded as an idealization of woman’s later development.

The point is this statue was presented by branches of the Hutchinson family and her admirers and we think if it is to be placed in front of State House with Daniel Webster, Horace Mann, and Gen. Hooker, then it may set a precedent and there is no reason why some other family may not come along and buy a statue of some woman and force us to place it there.”[17]

Despite these grumblings, on June 22, 1922 the statue of Anne Hutchinson was officially accepted by the State Legislature. Though it took until July 5^th for the statue to be finally placed in its current location on the balcony in front of the west wing. A year later, an explanatory inscription was finally added to the pedestal:

“IN MEMORY OF
ANNE MARBURY HUTCHINSON
BAPTIZED AT ALFORD
LINCOLNSHIRE ENGLAND
20 JULY 1591
KILLED BY THE INDIANS
AT EAST CHESTER NEW YORK 1643
A COURAGEOUS EXPONENT
OF CIVIL LIBERTY
AND RELIGIOUS TOLERATION”

The fate of the statue has continued to be rocky since. By the 1970s, the statue’s controversy had passed into obscurity – “Who’s Anne Hutchinson?” was the most common response to inquiries about the statue’s location, according to Globe Correspondent Eileen McNamara.[18] An official dedication ceremony for the statue was not held until 2005 – over 80 years after its placement. And since 2001 the statue has been difficult-to-impossible to access due to the heightened security measures around the State House post-9/11.

Between 2001 and 2015 the west lawn, where Hutchinson’s statue is located along with statues of John F. Kennedy and Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, was entirely inaccessible to visitors. The lawn’s proximity to the Governor’s office is the chief security concern. As the national anxiety post-9/11 eased, voices began to rise in protest at the lack of access to these pieces of public art. In the June 21, 2009, edition of The Globe, the editorial page outlined ongoing discussions about reopening the lawn to visitors. These discussions evidently led to nothing.[19] In 2013, once again columnist Scot Lehigh pointed out that the statues should be made accessible in their current location, or: “If an agreement to reopen the west lawn can’t be reached, there is another way: Move the [statues]. […] This is not that difficult a problem; it could have been solved long ago.”[20]

In 2015, the Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation announced that access to the west lawn would once again be granted to visitors, but only on weekdays during the spring and summer, and only after passing through the security checkpoints at the State House’s main entrance.[21] That said, the article which detailed this renewed access was only concerned with a visitor’s ability to view the JFK memorial, it made no mention of the Hutchinson statue. The State House’s website is similarly mute about access.[22]

For now, the only guaranteed access to the statue that curious readers can hope for is to catch a glimpse of Hutchinson through a wrought iron fence and decorative bushes while standing on Beacon Street – and hoping that construction on the State House grounds does not significantly obscure your view.

Postscript: Who we Honor, When and Where

The question of honorific statues has been a hot topic in American public discourse over the past few years. While people often disagree about specific monuments, the passion with which people argue their opinions suggests that all do recognize that who we choose to honor in this way says something about us as a community and about what our values are.

It was a municipal-community partnership that placed the statue of Abigail Adams on the Hancock Adams Common. The end result was a triumphant dedication ceremony, and a priceless gift to the community in the form of the new statue. The Hancock Adams Common is at the heart of the city’s historic and financial center. Giving Abigail equal prominence within the park was an important recognition that her sacrifices and contributions to the Revolutionary cause were on par with that of her husband and his colleagues.

The importance of a memorial to Anne Hutchinson located outside of the Massachusetts State House is best expressed by this editorial piece published in The Boston Globe the day after the statue was finally placed:

“Usually the bronze does not make its appearance until long after the flesh it commemorates has done its deed and passed the world by, but there is as much future as past in the statue of Anne Hutchinson, which, after these many months, attained yesterday its pedestal on Beacon Hill.

Even in the past part of it lies a lesson for the future. Here, hard by the Capitol of Massachusetts (where lawmakers cannot fail to see), is the monument to a woman whom Massachusetts once banished for her teachings.

But there is a part of it that belongs entirely to the future. There are no women in the Legislature, at the head of State Departments, or in higher executive positions. As she stands there, a lone heroine among the stern heroes that fill the State House grounds,[23] the bronze Anne Hutchinson is a promise that there will be real live women in positions of prominence on Beacon Hill in the near future. In the presence of this first woman leader among the men who have led in the past, Massachusetts can gain an inkling of the coleadership that is to come.”[24]

Today, women hold five of the six state-wide Executive Offices, and 63 of the 200 seats within the State Legislature, not to mention the countless women in leadership positions within towns and municipalities across the state as well as at the various State Departments. “Coleadership” has indeed come to the Commonwealth.

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Author’s Note: special thanks to the Cyrus Dallin Art Museum in Arlington for their help in the research phases of this piece. Please consider visiting their wonderful facility to learn more about a local master.

Throughout this piece I heavily reference a June 25th, 1922 Boston Globe article that details the process of the Legislature accepting the Anne Hutchinson statue. I definitely recommend reading the full article for yourself, it’s highly entertaining. I’ve attached a pdf copy below.

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[1] “Anne Hutchinson, Dead Nearly 300 Years, is Today Center of Lively Controversy” The Boston Globe. 25 June 1922.

[2] “Anne Hutchinson Statue” The Boston Globe. 26 July 1914.

[3] LaPlante, Eve. “A Heretic’s Overdue Honor” The Boston Globe. 7 September 2005.

[4] “Anne Hutchinson Statue Unveiled” The Boston Globe. 18 June 1920.

[5] “Anne Hutchinson, Dead Nearly 300 Years, is Today Center of Lively Controversy” The Boston Globe. 25 June 1922.

[6] “Bronze Cast of Anne Hutchinson Statue to be Put in Place Friday” The Boston Globe. 13 April 1922.

[7] “Doubt if Statue has been Accepted” The Boston Globe. 14 April 1922.

[8] “Anne Hutchinson, Dead Nearly 300 Years, is Today Center of Lively Controversy” The Boston Globe. 25 June 1922.

[9] Adams, Charles Francis. Antinomianism in the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, 1636–1638. Boston: The Prince Society. (1894), pp. 175

[10] Adams, Charles Francis. Three Episodes of Massachusetts History. Riverside Press : Cambridge. 1892. Vol. 1. Pp. 367

[11] “Anne Hutchinson, Dead Nearly 300 Years, is Today Center of Lively Controversy” The Boston Globe. 25 June 1922.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Hall, David D. ed. The Antinomian Controversy 1636 – 1638: A Documentary History. Wesleyan University Press: Middletown, Connecticut. (1968), pp. 372.

[15] Cheney, Jessie. “If the Words Be Well Understood, or, What Did John Cotton Mean When He Accused

Anne Hutchinson of Adultery?” Religion & Literature, Autumn, 2004, Vol. 36, No. 3 (Autumn, 2004), pp. 23-43.

[16] Ibid. pp. 39 endnote 8.

[17] “Anne Hutchinson, Dead Nearly 300 Years, is Today Center of Lively Controversy” The Boston Globe. 25 June 1922.

[18] McNamara, Eileen. “For Anne Hutchinson — honor at a lonely affair” The Boston Globe. 21 July 1976.

[19] “State House: Access Denied” The Boston Globe. 21 June 2009.

[20] Lehigh, Scot. “Release the statue” The Boston Globe. 27 November 2013.

[21] Annear, Steve. “JFK Memorial can be seen again” The Boston Globe. 18 April 2015.

[22] I was not able to visit the State House myself during the periods when the west lawn is reportedly open, to confirm the accessibility of the Hutchinson statue.

[23] Today, Anne is joined by a statue of Mary Dyer which was dedicated in 1959. A fellow believer of the “covenant of grace” Dyer was initially a follower of Hutchinson, but she eventually converted to Quakerism. The Puritans of Boston outlawed Quakerism and Dyer was executed on Boston Common in 1660.

[24] “Futures in Bronze” The Boston Globe. 6 July 1922.