Milford History Online

How much should a town spend on being beautiful? An odd question perhaps but one that selectmen and voters face all the time as the “meat & potatoes” of municipal budgeting competes with the funding of town aesthetics. Case in point: The charming fountain that stands outside the Wadleigh Memorial Library. Known as the Soldiers’ Memorial Light and Fountain, or simply the Lull Fountain, it is both a Milford treasure and a longtime victim of fiscal constraints.

The story of the fountain is also that of Mary Lull, a woman way ahead of her time. The wife of Oliver Lull, an attorney and Civil War colonel who died in action leading the Eighth New Hampshire regiment in the Battle of Port Hudson, Mrs. Lull achieved a number of firsts in Milford following his death. She practiced a dozen years in town as a doctor, founded the Women’s Relief Corps of New Hampshire, and was the first woman to serve on the Milford School Board. A strong believer in American patriotism (one source said she bordered on the fanatical), Mary Lull made it her life’s work to honor her late husband and the bravery of Civil War soldiers. Some years after the fighting, she conceived of a statue that would celebrate the reunification of the states. As she put it, in reference to opposing wartime fight songs, “It matters not whether our feet keep step to Dixie’s lively notes or it is ‘Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching.’”

The fountain was constructed in the 1890s on the grounds of Lullwood, her two-story home situated on a high knoll on Nashua Street — and it soon became quite the passion project. Mary wrote to various state legislatures and government bodies and began collecting granite, marble, and other native stones from each state, eventually assembling a full national collection to be placed around the fountain. A statue of the Goddess Victory rose above, holding a globe lantern along with red, white, and blue electric lights. During the 100thanniversary of Milford’s incorporation, on June 26, 1894, locals gathered to hear the Milford Cornet Band and John Hutchinson, the “sweet singer” of the famed Hutchinson family singers. Mrs. Lull later described the celebration in her Book of the Fountain with more than a little panache: “Little Rollo, son of Dr. HS Hutchinson turned the lever and sent eight jets high in their myriads of sun-tinted drops of pure, cold water. Nine electric lights flashed our national colors through the fleecy spray.”  When she died in 1910, Mary Lull willed her estate to the town with the specific provision that the light over the fountain be kept forever lit.  

Unfortunately, that dream ran into the reality of town budget constraints. During the Great Depression, it became clear that money no longer existed to maintain either the Lull estate or the fountain. Eventually, despite grumbling about “broken promises,” the house was torn down and the fountain packed away. When the library was constructed on the Lullwood grounds in 1950, the statue was moved to its current spot along the winding uphill drive, but it had badly deteriorated. The electric lights were removed, the fountain bowl was downsized, and it was discovered that several of the collected stones had been lost — including Florida, California, and Illinois. Efforts were made over the years to restore the statue with mixed success. Over time, the fountain’s gaskets deteriorated and the longtime Memorial Day tradition of turning on the fountain was abandoned. Despite these ups and downs, a 2016-2018 restoration did help reinstate much of the memorial’s polish even if it now lacks water, light, and its original pizzazz. 

All of which is to say that a town must spend money to look beautiful. At the time of this writing, Milford voters have recently said no to renovations of the Bales School and the Pillsbury Bandstand, while some of Milford’s other treasures from Eagle Hall to the post office to the Community House could certainly make do with a coat of paint and a bit more tender care. While certainly the everyday needs of a community deserve a sound measure of fiscal responsibility, it is also hard to put a price tag on the civic pride derived from a gleaming town building or the flow and glow of a historic fountain.