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PPLETOM READI mi

[OME iOOKS

'Y^S^ILE-WlMlI^lSIESflirY" Bought with the income
ofthe
John T. Norton Fund

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Hppletons' Ibome IReabing Books
EDITED BY
WILLIAM T. HARRIS, A.M., LL.D.
UNITED STATES COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION

DIVISION III
History

^>f'^-^ ' •

"The Hub of the Universe."

APPLETONS' HOME READING BOOKS

HISTORIC BOSTON
AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD
AN HISTORICAL PILGRIMAGE PERSONALLY
CONDUCTED BY EDWARD EVERETT HALE
ARRANGED FOR SEVEN DAYS

Birthplace of Benjamin Franklin

NEW YORK
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
T903

COPTBIGHT, 189S,
By d. appleton and company.

YALl-

INTEODUOTION TO THE HOME EEADING
BOOK SEKIES BY THE EDITOE.

The ne'w education takes two important direc
tions — one of these is toward original observation,
requiring the pupil to test and verify what is taught
him at school by his own experiments. The infor
mation that he learns from books or hears from his
teacher's lips must be assimilated by incorporating it
with his own experience.
The other direction pointed out by the new edu
cation is systematic home reading. It forms a part of
school extension of all kinds. The so-called " Univer
sity Extension " that originated at Cambridge and Ox
ford has as its chief feature the aid of home reading hy
lectures and round-table discussions, led or conducted
by experts who also lay out the course of reading.
The Chautauquan movement in this country prescribes
a series of excellent books and furnishes for a goodly
number of its readers annual courses of lectures. The
teachers' reading circles that exist in many States pre
scribe the books to be read, and publish some analysis,
commentary, or catechism to aid the members.
Home reading, it seems, furnishes the essential
basis of this great movement to extend education

vi HISTORIC BOSTON.
beyond the school and to make self -culture a habit
of life. Looking more carefully at the difference between
the two directions of the new education we can see
what each accomplishes. There is first an effort to
train the original powers of the individual and make
him seK-active, quick at observation, and free ia his
thinking. Next, the new education endeavors, by the
reading of books and the study of the wisdom of the
race, to make the child or youth a participator in the
results of experience of all mankind.
These two movements may be made antagonistic
by poor teaching. The book knowledge, containing as
it does the precious lesson of human experience, may
be so taught as to bring with it only dead rules of
conduct, only dead scraps of information, and no
stimulant to original thinking. Its contents may be
memorized without being understood. On the other
hand, the self -activity of the child may be stimulated
at the expense of his social well-being — his originality
may be cultivated at the expense of his rationality.
If he is taught persistently to have his own way, to
trust only his own senses, to cling to his own opinions
heedless of the experience of his fellows, he is pre
paring for an unsuccessful, misanthropic career, and
is likely enough to end his life in a madhouse.
It is admitted that a too exclusive study of the
knowledge found in books, the knowledge which is
aggregated from the experience and thought of other
people, may result in loading the mind of the pupil
with material which he can not use to advantage.

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION. yjj
Some minds are so full of lumber that there is no
space left to set up a workshop. The necessity of
uniting both of these directions of mtellectual activity
in the schools is therefore obvious, but we must not,
in this place, fall into the error of supposing that it is
the oral instruction in school and the personal influ
ence of the teacher alone that excites the pupil to ac
tivity. Book instruction is not always dry and theo
retical. The very persons who declaim against the
book, and praise in such strong terms the self -activity
of the pupil and original research, are mostly persons
who have received their practical impulse from read
ing the writings of educational reformers. Yery few
persons have received an impulse from personal con
tact with inspiring teachers compared with the num
ber that have been aroused by reading such books as
Herbert Spencer's Treatise on Education, Eousseau's
Emile, Pestalozzi's Leonard and Gertrude, Francis
W. Parker's Talks about Teaching, G. Stanley
Hall's Pedagogical Seminary. Think in this connec
tion, too, of the impulse to observation in natural sci
ence produced by such books as those of Hugh Miller,
Faraday, Tyndall, Huxley, Agassiz, and Darwin.
The new scientific book is different from the old.
The old style book of science gave dead results where
the new one gives not only the results, but a minute
account of the method employed in reaching those re
sults. An insight into the method employed in dis
covery trains the reader into a naturalist, an historian,
a sociologist. The books of the ¦writers above named
have done more to stimulate original research on the

viii HISTORIC BOSTON.
part of their readers than all other influences com
bined. It is therefore much more a matter of importance
to get the right kind of book than to get a living
teacher. The book which teaches results, and at the
same time gives in an intelligible manner the steps of
discovery and the methods employed, is a book
which will stimulate the student to repeat the ex
periments described and get beyond them into fields
of original research himself. Every one remem
bers the published lectures of Faraday on chemistry,
which exercised a wide influence in changing the
style of books on natural science, causing them to
deal •with method more than results, and thus train
the reader's power of conducting original research.
Eobinson Crusoe for nearly two hundred years has
aroused the spirit of adventure and prompted young
men to resort to the border lands of civilization. A
library of home reading should contain books that in
cite to self-activity and arouse the spirit of inquiry.
The books should treat of methods of discovery and
evolution. AH nature is unified by the discovery of
the law of evolution. Each and every being in the
world is now explained by the process of development
to which it belongs. Every fact now throws light on
all the others by illustrating the process of growth in
which each has its end and aim.
The Home Eeading Books are to be classed as
follows :
First Division. Natural history, including popular
scientific treatises on plants and animals, and also de-

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION. ix
scriptions of geographical localities. The branch of
study in the district school course which corresponds
to this is geography. Travels and sojourns in distant
lands ; special writings which treat of this or that
animal or plant, or family of animals or plants ; any
thing that relates to organic nature or to meteorol
ogy, or descriptive astronomy may be placed in this
class. Second Division. Whatever relates to physics or
natural philosophy, to the statics or dynamics of air or
water or light or electricity, or to the properties of
matter ; whatever relates to chemistry, either organic
or ' inorganic — books on these subjects belong to the
class that relates to what is inorganic. Even the so-
called organic chemistry relates to the analysis of
organic bodies into their inorganic compounds.
Third Division. History, biography, and ethnol
ogy. Books relating to the lives of individuals; to
the social life of the nation ; to the collisions of na
tions in war, as well as to the aid that one nation
gives to another through commerce in times of peace ;
books on ethnology relating to the modes of life of
savage or civilized peoples; on primitive manners
and customs — books on these subjects belong to the
third class, relating particularly to the human will,
not merely the individual will but the social -will,
the will of the tribe or nation; and to this third
class belong also books on ethics and morals, and
on forms of government and laws, and what is in
cluded under the term civics, or the duties of citi
zenship.

X HISTORIC BOSTON.
Fourth Division. The fourth class of books in
cludes more especially literature and works that make
known the beautiful in such departments as sculpture,
painting, architecture and music. Literature and art
show human nature in the form of feelings, emotions,
and aspirations, and they show how these feelings
lead over to deeds and to clear thoughts. This de
partment of books is perhaps more important than
any other in our home reading, inasmuch as it teaches
a knowledge of human nature and enables us to un
derstand the motives that lead our fellow-men to
action.
Plan foe Use as Supplementaut Eeading.
The first work of the child in the school is to
learn to recognize in a printed form the words that
are familiar to him by ear. These words constitute
what is called the colloquial vocabulary. They are
words that he has come to know from having heard
them used by the members of his family and by his
playmates. He uses these words himself with con
siderable skill, but what he knows by ear he does not
yet know by sight. It will require many weeks,
many months even, of constant effort at reading the
printed page to bring him to the point where the
sight of the written word brings up as much to his
mind as the sound of the spoken word. But patience
and practice will by and by make the printed word
far more suggestive than the spoken word, as every
scholar may testify.
In order to bring about this familiarity with the

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION. xi
printed word it has been found necessary to re-en
force the reading in the school by supplementary
reading at home. Books of the same grade of diffi
culty with the reader used in school are to be pro
vided for the pupil. They must be so interesting
to him that he will read them at home, using his time
before and after school, and even his holidays, for
this purpose.
But this matter of familiarizing the child with the
printed word is only one half of the object aimed at
by the supplementary home reading. He should
read that which interests him. He should read that
which will increase his power in making deeper
studies, and what he reads should tend to correct his
habits of observation. Step by step he should be
initiated into the scientific method. Too many ele
mentary books fail to teach the scientific method be
cause they point out in an unsystematic way only
those features of the object which the untutored
senses of the pupil would discover at first glance. It
is not useful to tell the child to observe a piece of
chalk and see that it is white, more or less friable,
and that it makes a mark on a fence or a wall. Sci
entific observation goes immediately behind the facts
which lie obvious to a superficial investigation.
Above all, it directs attention to such features of the
object as relate it to its en'vironment. It directs at
tention to the features that have a causal infiuence in
making the object what it is and in extending its
effects to other objects. Science discovers the recip
rocal action of objects one upon another.

xii HISTORIC BOSTON.
After the child has learned how to observe what
is essential in one class of objects he is in a measure
fitted to observe for himself all objects that resemble
this class. After he has learned how to observe the
seeds of the milkweed, he is partially prepared to
observe the seeds of the dandelion, the burdock, and
the thistle. After he has learned how to study the
history of his native country, he has acquired some
ability to study the history of England and Scotland
or France or Germany. In the same way the daily
preparation of his reading lesson at school aids him
to read a story of Dickens or Walter Scott.
The teacher of a school will know how to obtain
a small sum to invest in supplementary reading. In
a graded school of four hundred pupils ten books of
each number are sufficient, one set of ten books to be
loaned the first week to the best pupils in one of the
rooms, the next week to the ten pupils next in ability.
On Monday afternoon a discussion should be held
over the topics of interest to the pupils who have
read the book. The pupils who have not yet read
the book will become interested, and await anxiously
their turn for the loan of the desired volume. Another
set of ten books of a higher grade may be used in the
same way in a room containing more advanced pupils.
The older pupils who have left school, and also the
parents, should avail themselves of the opportunity to
read the books brought home from school. Thus is
begun that continuous education by means of the pub
lic library which is not limited to the school period,
but lasts through life. W. T. Haeeis.
Washington, D. C, Nov. 16, 1896.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER Introduction 

PAGE 1

I.

Wars and rumors of wars

13

11.

Bunker Hill . . ...

39

111.

John Eliot and his Indians ....

39

IV.

To FIND one's way . . . .

55

V.

Harvard College ... . .

79

VI.

The State House . . . .

105

VII.

Another day in old Boston ....

118

VIII.

The islands and the forts .

136

IX.

The streets 

153

Index 

183

LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS.

FACING PAGE

"The Hub ol the Universe" Frontispiece
The Public Garden . . . 9
Bowlder on Lexington Common . 17
Cooper Tavern, Arlington 21
Monument on Lexington Common 26
The Battle of Bunker Hill . 33
Bunlier Hill Monument . 37
The Eliot Oak at Natick 53
The Frog Pond. Boston Comraon . 71
Wadsworth House, Cambridge 82
The College Yard . 87
The College Library . . 90
The Johnston Gate, Harvard College 99
The compact in the Mayflower . 113
Reading the Declaration of Independence . 131
Christ Church . . .134
The Province House . 129
King's Chapel 133
Squantum Head . 137
Port Winthrop, Governor's Island . 143
Port Independence . 148
A Section ol Bonner's Map ot Boston, 1722 . 154
Commonwealth Avenue 165
Park Street Mall, Boston Common . . .176
9. XV

HISTORIC BOSTON
AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD.

INTEODUOTION.
This little book is not so much a guide
book in itself as an introduction or key to
local guides, or a preparation for conversation
with intelligent Boston people, who will meet
a new comer into that town.
Every summer there arrive people from
different parts of the nation who have a
curiosity about the history of Boston, or
about its present activities, which they would
gladly gratify, as well as possible, in a few
days' stay here. Perhaps they have ances
tors among the fifteen thousand people who
united in the capture of Louisburg, or the
twenty thousand people who, thirty years
later, defied King George. I recollect what
I would gladly have done and said, first,

2 HISTORIC BOSTON.
had my friends the Inghams and their chil
dren ever materialized far enough to appear
at the station in Park Square, and, second,
if my own deserts and desires had ever ma
terialized so far that I could send my coach
man and carriage to meet them. I have writ
ten to Colonel Ingham, the head of that little
host, the traveling directions which the reader
has in hand. At various places, if he need
them, as at Concord, at Lexington, or at
Cambridge, he will find local guide books
which will be of use to preserve, for memo
randa which, at the moment, one has not time
to write down.
Before leading the reader on any of the
separate excursions proposed, it will be well
that he should know something of the origi
nal make-up of the peninsula on which the
town of " Boston proper " has been built, for
the original Boston of the Fathers has been
enlarged by the filling in of coves and the
building of sea walls. The district north of
the line which separated old Boston from the

INTRODUCTION. 3
mainland has more than twice the area of
the " Neck," as they called it, which then
appeared above the water.
In our day we are apt to use the word
"neck" for the isthmus which connects a
peninsula with the mainland. Linguists may
interest themselves in observing the connec
tion between nexus, the bond which unites
two bodies, and the nech which connects one's
head with his shoulders. In our earlier days,
however, the Neck, as a geographical term,
meant the whole peninsula. And on the New
England shore now people use the word in the
same way. Thus they speak of Marblehead
Neck, as the peninsula which a short neck be
tween two coves connects with the mainland.
The phrase " Boston Neck " has of late days
been given only to the ridge of gravel which
connected the town with the mainland.
To the peninsula itself different names
were given by the early adventurers. It had
originally the outline of a fiddle — or, if you
please, of a pear. It projected northward
from the mainland, and on the other side

4 HISTORIC BOSTON.
of the channel of Charles River, Charles-
town, another " neck," not dissimilar, pro
jected southward as if to meet it. Geologi
cally each of the two peninsulas is a large
"drumlin," such as were left in all eastern
Massachusetts by the progress and by the re
ceding of the great glacial wave which swept
over our part of North America somewhat less
than ten thousand years ago. In the debris
of this wave you pick up pebbles which have
been ground off from the rocks of the White
Mountains, and regions farther north than they.
Different observers of the olden times de
scribe the peninsula in different ways. Wil
liam Wood, an Englishman who came over
before 1630 and staid till 1635, says of it:
"His situation is very pleasant, being a
Peninsula hem'd in on the South side with
the Bay of Roxberry, on the North-side \vith
Charles River, the Marshes on the backe-side,
being not halfe a qA^arter of a mile over ; so
that a little fencing will secure their cattle
from the Wooh^es. Their greatest wants be
Wood and Medow-ground wliich never were

liN 1 JKU JJ U U i iUIN .

in that place ; being constrayned to fetch
their building-timber and firewood from the
Islands in Boates, and their Hay in Loyters.
It being a Necke and bare of wood, they are
not troubled with the great annoyances of
Woolves, Rattlesnakes, and Musketoes."
Edward Johnson, in the Wonder- Work
ing Providence, wrote about 1650 :
" The chief edifice of this City -like Towne
is crowded on the Sea-bankes, and wharfed
out with great industry and cost, the build
ings beautiful and large, some fairely set
forth with Brick, Tile, Stone, and Slate, and
orderly placed with comly streets, whose con-
tinuall enlargement presages some sumptuous
city. . . . But now behold the admirable Acts
of Christ : at this his peoples landing, the
hideous Thickets in this place were such that
Wolfes and Bears nurst up their young from
the eyes of all beholders, iu those very places
where the streetes are full of Girles and Boys
sporting up and downe, with a continual con
course of people. Good store of Shipping is
here yearly built, and some very faire ones."

6 HISTORIC BOSTON'.
In 1665 the Royal Commissioners, or some
person employed by them, wrote in describ
ing Boston :
" Their houses are generally wooden, their
streets crooked, with little decency and no
uniformity." But Josselyn, who had been here but a
short time before, said of the town :
" The houses are for the most part raised
on the sea-banks, many of them standing upon
piles, close together on each side of the streets
as in London, and furnished with many fair
shops ; their materials are brick, stone, lime,
handsomely contrived, with three meeting
houses or churches, and a town-house built
upon pillars, where the merchants may con
fer ; in the chamber above they keep their
monthly courts. Their streets are many and
large, paved with pebble stones, and the south
side adorned with gardens and orchards."
The shape of the " drumlin " and its three
hills has given the direction of the older
streets, and determined the map of the pres
ent city. The settlers were not such fools as

INTRODUCTION. 7
to suppose that streets must be straight, or that
they must run along astronomical meridians
or parallels. Where a street went in from the
sea, it went at right angles from the shore or
nearly so. Where Beacon Hill, or Copp's Hill,
or Fort Hill rose, the roadway at the base
went round them and not through them.
Given these preliminary streets — curves
around the bases of the hills, and radii, so to
speak, running from the water's edge to meet
them — run the main street north, midway be
tween the shores of the coves, and you have
the key to what a stranger calls the intricacy
of the streets of the town.
The winding line of the shore, deeply in
dented by coves, suggested at once operations
for artificial embankments. The rise and fall
of the tide is from eight to twelve feet. It
occurred to the settlers very early that by
making a causeway, Avhere Causeway Street
now runs, and adjusting gates to open in
ward, and close when the water flowed out,
a mill basin could be made from the great
northern cove, and kept nearly at the level

8 HISTORIC BOSTON.
tide. They therefore built this causeway,
and thus, by cutting a narrow canal eastward
across the town, they commanded, perhaps
half the time, a waterfall from the high tide
level to that of low tide, sufficient to carry a
mill for grinding their corn. The tide basin
thus made was called the Mill Pond.
In 1804 it was clear that the land it cov
ered would have value, if reclaimed, of much
more account than the little water j^ower
which had been used for nearly two centuries.
Enough of Beacon Hill ^^as cut do^vn, there
fore, to fill up the Mill Pond. The canal
was filled up, and became Canal Street. PI ere
is the reason why, in the heart of the devious
plan of the North End, there come in straight
streets which mark the site of the original
Mill Pond. And thus the original Beacon
Hill lost its crest, which rose behind the
State House of that day.
At the same time the old enterprise for
creating tide power was renewed on the Back
Bay. The region of elegant houses now
known as the Back Bay was then really the

a
n3

CD

INTRODUCTION. 9
bay, back of the town to one who approached
it from the sea.
By building the Western Avenue across
this bay — from Beacon Street exactly west to
Brookline — a basin was located, in which the
water could be kept at any level. South
ward across this basin a mill dam was built,
which is now Parker Street, and thus there
were two basins. The western of these two,
about where the Charlesgate Fens now are,
was kept nearly at the level of high tide, and
was called the "full basin." The eastern
basin was kept at the lowest level possible,
and was called the " empty basin." From the
full to the empty basin was an average water
fall of salt water of perhaps eight feet. The
water power thus created carried several mills.
My father had printing presses there, which
were kept at work by the use of this power.
By this cutting off of the high tide from
the foot of the Common, the present parade
ground was created, where till then there
had been only an unsightly salt marsh. And
Charles Street, on a causeway again, was ex-

10 HISTORIC BOSTON.
tended south from Beacon Street to Park
Square. All this was done under the mayoralty
of the first Quincy. The trees now making
so fine an avenue of the Charles Street Mall
were planted then. Virtually the Common
was almost doubled in size by these improve
ments. Fifty years ago, under the masterly
lead of Mr. Samuel E. Guild, the Public Gar
den was created on what had been an un
sightly beach of salt mud on the western
side of Charles Street.
When in 1831 the construction of the
Worcester and Western Railway was made
certain, another set of adventurers filled up
the " South Cove," which indented the shore
on the east side. Here again, therefore, is a
series of rectangular and level streets. Wash
ington Street curves as the crest of the old
isthmus curves. In the old days it was the
only street between the South Cove on the
east and the Back Bay on the west.
Go through Union Park Street from
Washington, and turn in by the side of the

INTRODUCTION. H
Temple Shalom. You can see from the steps
the remains of a wooden wharf where your
grandfather bought cabbages and firewood
" imported " from Maine. The Temple Shal
om stands where the schooner lay from which
they were landed.
The traces of this history are found by
the pilgrim on the spot and in the names
of streets and squares. Beacon Street com
memorates the beacon which was ready to
summon the soldiers of the bay in the event
of any attack. General Gage was sadly
frightened when he received a report one
morning that a tar-barrel had been found in
the iron basket of the beacon. I can not
find that the beacon was ever really fired.
And here I may say that, of six forts built
in succession where Fort Independence now
stands, no one ever fired a shot in anger.
But the tower of Brattle Street Meeting
House preserved to the last an iron cannon
ball which struck it in a cannonade ordered
by Washington in the siege of Boston. Mr.
Holmes's lines on this are these :

12

HISTORIC BOSTON.

" Wears on her bosom as a bride might do
The iron breastpin which the rebels threw."

The Brattle Street Meeting House.*
Fort Hill was dug away to a level a gen
eration ago, but a pretty circle of grass pre
serves the name, though there be no hill.
The reader may now safely be trusted to
go out from the center on the excursions de
scribed in these letters.
* Observe the cannon ball over the doorway.

I.
WARS AND RUMORS OF WARS.
Cranberry Centre, July 20, 1898.
My DEAR Colonel Ingham : I have your
letter too late, alas ! to meet you at the train.
But William will meet you with this, and
take you to the house directly. Meanwhile,
you will want to be showing the lions to
your wife and to those fine boys. Take this
letter with you as your marching guide.
If I know those boys of yours, they will
be eager, first of all, about Lexington and
Concord and Bunker Hill. Why do you
not take their broad hints, and at the same
time indulge your wife's curiosity about the
homes of Emerson, and of Hawthorne, where
she will now find Mrs. Lothrop, and -svhere
even the " hack-driver " will tell her stories
of Thoreau ?
Indeed, if you break this open before you
3 13

14 HISTORIC BOSTON.
leave the station, you can send Mrs. Ingham
and the trunks to our house, and you and the
children can start on foot.
For, in a sense, when you meet William
at the Providence station, you are all stand
ing where you might have been swimming
when and where the battle of Lexington
began. That was all water then, and you
must impress it on the boys that near
that spot the boats from King George's
squadron met quietly to forward the regi
ments detached for a surprise excursion on
the evening of the 18th of April, 1775.
You may as well take the boys with you
through Arlington Street to .Beacon Street
and then to the Union Boat Club House.
Impress it on them, all the way, that this
was all under water then, and that after
dark, on that eventful April evening, rather
more than a thousand soldiers were beins:
rowed by the seamen of the fleet to East
Cambridge — -what they then called Phips's
Farm. Go in from Beacon Street through
a little street they call Otter Street, and

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 15
almost directly north, nearly parallel with
the present land line, these thousand men
were taken thus across the mouth of Charles
River. The bridge to Cambridge — what Mr.
Lowell calls one of our " caterpillar bridges "
— crosses their line. But I think you can
see a steeple and a chimney on the East
Cambridge shore above that bridge.
Do not go any farther with them then,
but take them back to the house, and as soon
as their mother is ready, after breakfast, you
can all start for Lexington and Concord, on
the line on which Lord Percy followed the
first detachment. The boys will know that
he went the next day.
I do not know how you feel about money.
It is well worth what a carriage will cost
you. But if I had your legs and the boys', I
would do it all, with the help of the trolleys
and the steam cars, for half a dollar apiece.
Let that be as madam says.
Percy's brigade slept that night in their
tents on the Common. And if you choose
you can walk across on the broad path from

16 HISTORIC BOSTON.
the Providence station to West Street over
the very line of his little camp. With these
eyes I have seen the rings, in the green grass
of the spring, which showed where his tents
were. Colonel Smith had been sent out with
his thousand men as a sort of surprise, by
night. But he sent word back that the coun
try was alarmed, and Percy was directed to
take a large detachment to his relief. Percy
was a fine young fellow, a spirited soldier,
son of the Duke of Northumberland, whom
he succeeded afterward in the dukedom. He
was half-brother, by another mother, of that
James Smithson who founded the Smith
sonian Institution. Perhaps the name Smith-
son is now better known than that of Percy
among English-speaking people ; certainly
James hojoed it would be. Percy paraded
his men early and marched them out from
the Common to what we call Tremont Street,
and there they were drawn up across the
head of School Street, all ready to march,
but that he had to wait for the detachment of
marines from the fleet ^vho wei-e to join him.

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 17
" Where are those marines ? "
Where, indeed ! At last an orderly was
summoned, who stated, with true British pre
cision, that he had left the order for Major
Pitcairn, the commander of the marines, at
his headquarters the evening before. And
four hours before this Major Pitcairn had
said to the militia on Lexington Green, " Dis
perse, ye rebels, disperse ! " and war had be
gun. And now his orders are lying sealed
on his office table, and he is far away !
As soon as this was found out somebody
else got the marines into line, and the column
moved out of town over the Neck, exactly
away from Concord, where they were going,
as the bird flies, but through another coun
try from Colonel Smith's route, so that they
might astonish the natives.
Let Mrs. Ingham and the boys under
stand this. By the way, as you go out, fol
lowing Lord Percy after one hundred and
twenty-two years, you pass between two
pretty squares, east and west of Washington
Street. Tell the boys that here were the

18 HISTORIC BOSTON.
farthest redoubts held by the English troops.
Dr. Weld told me he had often driven his
father's cows over them. Ask the driver or
conductor to show you the old burial ground
at Eustis Street.
Go up the hill to the Norfolk House and
Center Street. At Center Street is the " part
ing stone." Your road is the Cambridge
road, the other road is the Rhode Island I'oad.
Now you must leave your car, if you are
in it. If you are in a carriage, tell the driver
to go to Brookline. If you walk, you have
only to go down the hill, and at the great
arches of the Providence Railway take a
Brookline car. Tell the conductor that you
want to go through Harvard Street. Or tell
the driver you want to go to Cambridge by
the old road, crossing the river by the old
bridge at Cambridge.
Now you are on Percy's line of march.
Somewhere here in Roxbury his band ^vas
playing " Yankee Doodle." Percy sa-w a boy
deriding the column by shouts and gestures,
and called him to scold him. " You go out

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 19
to Yankee Doodle," said the boy, "but you
will come back to Chevy Chase ! " And Dr.
Gordon, who tells the story, says that the
boy's words haunted Earl Percy all day.
The child may rue that is unborn,
The hunting of that day.
If anybody knew that ballad, " Erie Per
cy " did.
Rather more than two miles from the
parting stone you will pass the old "La
fayette Tavern " on your left, and in half a
mile more will be in sight of the Cambridge
boathouses and will have Charles River to
cross. Earl Percy came there as you do, but
the American General Heath had ordered
that the planks of the little bridge should be
taken up to check him. So the earl found
no bridge. But alas, the Yankees had not
yet learned what war is ! They had frugally
piled the planks on the Cambridge shore.
If they had thrown them into the river
Smith's detachment would hardly have re
turned to Boston that night.

20 HISTORIC BOSTON.
As it was, Percy put men across to lay
the bridge again, and after a tedious delay
he crossed with his " army," which had now
marched eight or more miles. You are only
three miles from Boston by the road of to
day. Stop, if you like, in Cambridge, at Gore
Hall and ask for some of the old Revolution
ary maps and pictures. Gore Hall is the
college library, and they will be very courte
ous to you. Make a stop for lunch at the
trolley station in Harvard Square.
Your next objective is Arlington, once
West Cambridge, and in Percy's days Men-
otomy. Percy was confused when he came
up to the town of Cambridge from the
broken bridge. Nobody appeared to tell
him the way, but a poor college tutor was
caught, whose name I may repeat, as it was
Smith. He could not tell a lie, and he
directed the commander to Menotomy ; for
which offense against liberty he was ostra
cized by the people and had to retire to Hali
fax for eight years.

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 21
You have had a trolley, or a good road,
to Arlington. At Arlington you will find a
tablet avhich shows where the first victory
of the war was won — unless you count the
Boston boys' victory about the sleds and
the coasting. For here, under the lead of
an old negro soldier, the " exempts " of Men-
otom}' cut off Percy's supply train, the meat
(and drink) for his little army. This essen
tial of war had been detained at the bridge.
So the first real victory of the war was won
by a black man. It was at Menotomy, now
Arlington, that Percy first learned that fight
ing was going on beyond.
I once made the excursion which I am
describing to you, on the 19th of April.
On that day you Avill see a flag on every
old-fashioned house between Arlington and
Lexington. And if you stop at the door
of any such house, you will be asked if you
do not want to see where Cephas Willard
died, or somebody else. Or would you
like to see the blood stain on the floor, or
the bullet in a beam ? These people are

22 HISTORIC BOSTON.
proud of these memories and preserve their
memorials. It is not a long march or ride to Lexing
ton. There, on the hill southeast of the vil
lage, Percy met the flying column of Colo
nel Smith. Smith was himself wounded,
and was in a " chaise " which had been im
provised for the purpose. He disappears
from history from this time. Percy unlim-
bered his cannon, and, when he got a chance,
fired a round shot up the road. I think they
show one or two of these balls in the Public
Library of Lexington.
For you will find the public library open
and hospitable, and ready to tell you and
show you everything. It is on the right-
hand side of the road. Among other 'things
they will show you a portrait of Lord Percy,
which the j)resent Duke of Northumberland
sent them. He was very much pleased ^vhen
Rev. Mr. Porter told him that the Lexington
people sometimes spoke of " our Lord Percy."
By the way, Percy's letters home to his
father and mother are among the most life-

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 23
like memorials which we have of that winter.
Poor fellow, he got enough of campaigning
under that lazy Sir William Howe, and went
back to England. He did not appear as a
soldier again until as Duke of Northumber
land he commanded the volunteers who were
expected to drive away Napoleon when he
made the descent Avhich never came on the
English shore. All the Percys were Smith-
sons by name. Lord Percy's father being
only the third duke of this creation. The
Dudley line of Dukes of Northumberland
had run out in another century, or had been
beheaded. With the boys fairly landed in the libra
ry, and a walk up to the "center" of the
to^vn to see the monument and to read the
inscription, I am afraid these instructions will
end. Though if you are " doing the thing "
as an English traveler would do it, you
would include Concord, Bunker Hill, Har
vard College, and the House with Seven
Gables in the same day. As it is, I will
have mercy on you, and let you come home.

24 HISTORIC BOSTON.
There will be some music somewhere in the
evening. Indeed, you will find Boston a
good watering place.
If mamma is too tired to take the chil
dren out in the evening, you, Fritz, may read
the ballad of the New England Chevy Chase
aloud to the rest ; and then Pauline may
commit it to memoiy, to recite at the next
meeting of the Great Granddaughters of the
Revolution. Here it is :
NEW ENGLAND'S CHEVY CHASE.
'Twas the dead of the night. By the joine-knot's red
light
Brooks lay, half asleep, when he heard the alarm —
Only this, and no more, from a voice at the door :
" The Red-Coats are out, and have passed Phips's
farm."
Brooks was booted and spurred ; he said never a
word ;
Took his horn from its peg, and his gun from the
rack ;
To the cold midnight air he led out his white mare,
Strapped the girths and the bridle, and sprang to
her back.
Up the Xorth Country Road at her full pace she
strode,
Till Brooks reined her up at John Tarbell's to say,

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 25
" We have got the alarm — they have left Phips's
farm ;
You rouse the East Precinct, and I'll go this way."
John called his hired man, and they harnessed the
span ;
They roused Abram Garfield, and Abram called
me :
" Turn out right away ; let no minute-man stay ;
The Red-Coats have landed at Phips's," says he.
By the Powder-House Green seven others fell in ;
At JSTahum's the men from the saw-mill came
down ;
So that when Jabez Bland gave the word of com
mand.
And said, " Forward, march ! " there marched for
ward The Town.
Parson Wilderspin stood by the side of the road.
And he took off his hat, and he said, " Let us pray !
0 Lord, God of Might, let thine angels of light
Lead thy children to-night to the glories of day !
And let thy stars fight all the foes of the Right
As the stars fought of old against Sisera."
And from heaven's high arch those stars blessed our
march.
Till the last of them faded in twilight away ;
And with morning's bright beam, by the bank of the
stream.
Half the county marched in, and we heard Davis
say:

26 HISTORIC BOSTON.
" On the King's own highway I may travel all day.
And no man hath warrant to stop me," says he ;
" I've no man that's afraid, and I'll march at their
head."
Then he turned to the boys — " Forward, march !
Follow me."
And we marched as he said ; and the fifer he played
The old White Cockade, and he played it right
well.
We saw Davis fall dead, but no man was afraid ;
That bridge we'd have had, though a thousand men
fell.
This opened the play, and it lasted all day.
We made Concord too hot for the Red-Coats to
stay;
Down the Lexington way we stormed, black, white,
and gray ;
We were first in the feast, and were last in the
fray.
They would turn in dismay, as - red wolves turn at
bay.
They leveled, they fired, they charged up the
road.
Cephas Willard fell dead ; he was shot in the head
As he knelt by Aunt Prudence's well-sweep to load.
John Danforth was hit just in Lexington Street,
John Bridge at that lane where you cross Beaver
Falls,
And Winch and the Snows just above John Munroe's,
Swept away by one swoop of the big cannon balls.

Monument on Le.xinfftou Common.

WARS AND RUMORS OP WARS. 27
I took Bridge on my knee, but he said, " Don't mind
me ;
Fill your horn from mine — let me lie where I be.
Our fathers," says he, " that their sons might be free,
Left their king on his throne and came over the
sea;
And that man is a knave or a fool who, to save
His life for a minute, would live like a slave."
Well, all would not do ! There were men good as
new —
From Rumford, from Saugus, from towns far
away —
Who filled up quick and well for each soldier that
fell;
And we drove them, and drove them, and drove
them all day.
We knew, every one, it was war that begun.
When that morning's marching was only half done.
In the hazy twilight, at the coming of night,
I crowded three buckshot and one bullet down.
'Twas my last charge of lead ; and I aimed her, and
said,
" Good luck to you, lobsters, in old Boston Town."
In a barn at Milk Row, Ephraim Bates and Miinroe
And Baker and Abram and I made a bed.
We had mighty sore feet, and we'd nothing to eat ;
But we'd driven the Red-Coats, and Amos, he said :
" It's the first time," says he, " that it's happened to
me
To march to the sea by this road where we've come ;

28 HISTORIC BOSTON.
But confound this whole day, but we'd all of us say
We'd rather have spent it this way than to home."

The hunt had begun with the dawn of the sun,
And night saw the wolf driven back to his den.
And never since then, in the memory of men.
Has the old Bay State seen such a hunting again.

II.
BUNKER HILL.
If all this be not enough of wars and ru
mors of \'\'ars, there is a nice little afternoon
expedition which the young people can take
by themselves -while Papa and Mamma are
writing their letters or taking their naps.
It is the journey by land to Fort Inde
pendence, which is on an island — Castle Island.
As long ago as 1630, when Governor Win
throp brought the first colonists to Boston,
he saw that he should defend the harbor best
by a fort on what was called Castle Island.
All the towns in the little State were taxed
to build the "Castle," and it was finished well
enough to have cannon on it in 1634. Be
tween that time and this, six forts have been
built tliere and opposite it. There will be
time for this another da}'. But now the boys
29

30 HISTORIC BOSTON.
will wonder that they have not been to Bun
ker Hill. Of course they saw the monument
very early in the business. Did not Paul
repeat —
"Let it rise till it meet the sun in his
coming ! Let the earliest rays of morning
gild it, and let the parting day linger and
play upon its summit ! "
But all of the youngsters will want to
trudge up to the top and count the steps. I
think mamma -will prefer to attend the meet
ing of the " Granddaughters of Queen Anne's
Counselors," and that papa will have a busi
ness engagement with Sewall and Saltonstall
about some wheat he has oft' Tierra del Fuego.
Very well ! Off -with you, and even if
you have English tongues, still you need not
ask anybody where to go. Just show your
selves in the northern part of Washington
Street, or in the subway at Scollay Square,
and look for a northward bound car, marked
" Bunker Hill ! "
Somebody complains because he does not
like to find Tintagel in Bradshaw's Guide. I

BUNKER HILL. 31
may say, in passing, that it is not there, for I
have looked for it. But I never complain
when I see Bunker Hill on a car, even if I
have no business there, as General Howe and
Major Pitcairn had. It does one good to be
taken back a hundred and twenty-three years
or thereabouts. Enter the car bravely, and affect to know
the whole way. Let us hope you all know
that the sun is in the south at noon and in the
west in the afternoon, so that you shall not
travel southward to Roxbury. You shall go
to see General Ward's forts there another day.
Where you cross this bridge there was a
ferry the day the battle was fought — yes, and
for one hundred and forty-five years before.
It was there, Jane, that your grandmother's
grandfather and his wife came over with Win
throp in 1630. They all came first to Charles-
town, where we are going now. And there
your great-great-grandfather began a little
hut, something like Nansen's, on the side of
the hill. But they sickened there ; they had
no good water. And one day a man named

32 HISTORIC BOSTON.
William Blaxton came over from the Shaw-
mut, -where you are making your visit, now
called Boston. And he told them that over
there he had good water, and so your ances
tor, and perhaps twenty-five more like him,
with their ^vives and babies, went over. And
this made the beginning of a ferry way which
lasted till this veiy bridge -was Ijuilt — oh, fif
teen years or so after the battle.
It was across here that Paul Revere came
in his little boat before the battle of Lexiiiir-
ton, as you have read in Mr. Longfellow's
ballad of Paul Revere's Ride.
On through the "Square," which, like
most Boston squares, has more than four cor
ners, and here the motorman says, " Far'z ^ye
go," and we see that we can walk right up
the hill to the monument.
It is not very far, Paul, from the slope
where Major Abercrombie led up his red
coats, and heard some one from the other side
of the breastwork cry out :
"Are the Americans cowards. Major
Abercrombie ? "

The Battle of Bunker Hill.
From TrumbuWs painting.

bunker hill. 33
And here we are, -with the great stone
obelisk above us. And here is the door.
The chances are good that the keeper can
tell us all about it. In some years there is
an elevator running to take us up ; in some
years no. Who cares, if we are more than
eight years old and not yet twenty? We
shall like to count the stairs.
Ask the doorkeeper if he have General
Devens's address, delivered in General Grant's
presence, on the anniversary of the battle.
If he has, buy it. It will tell you the whole
story. When you come home at night tell the
old folks what you have seen. This time
there shall be two ballads. Here is a verse
from one by a Yankee soldier. I am afraid
he was not in the trenches :
THE BALLAD OP BUNKER HILL.
We lay in the trenches we'd dug in the ground
While Phmbus blazed down from his Glory-lined
Car;
And then from the lips of our Leader renowned
This Lesson we heard in the Science of War !

34

HISTORIC BOSTON.

" Let the Foeman draw nigh
Till the White of his Uye
Is in range with your Rifles, and then. Lads ! Let
Fly!
And show to Columbia, to Britain, and Fame,
How Justice smiles awful when Freemen take Aim ! "
Now, this other one is not so good for
poetry, but it is genuine. I ]3rint it from the
old yellow "broadside," as such things are
called. It was printed in Boston, I suppose
to encourage recruiting in the British army :

Reproduction of cut from the original •' broadside."
A SONG,
COMPOSED AFTER THE FIGHT AT BUNKER HILL, JUNE 17, 1775.
It was on the seventeenth by brake of day.
The Yankees did surprise us.
With their strong works they had thrown up.
To burn the town and drive us ;

BUNKER HILL. 35
But soon we had an order come.
An order to defeat them :
Like rebels stout they stood it out
And thought we ne'er could beat them.

About the hour of twelve that day.
An order came for marching,
With three good flints and sixty rounds,
Each man hop'd to discharge them.
We marched down to the long wharf.
Where boats were ready waiting ;
With expedition we enibark'd,
Our ships kept cannonading.
And when our boats all filled were
With officers and soldiers,
With as good troops as England had.
To oppose who dare controul us ;
And when our boats all filled were
We row'd in line of battle.
Where show'rs of balls like hail did fly.
Our cannon loud did rattle.
There was Cop's hill battery near Charlestown,
Our twenty-fours they played.
And the three frigates in the stream
That very well behaved ;
The Glasgow frigate clear'd the shore.
All at the time of landing.
With her grape shot and cannon balls
No Yankee e'er could stand them.

36 HISTORIC BOSTON.
And when we landed on the shore.
And drew up all together ;
The Yankees they all man'd their works.
And thought we'd ne'er come thither :
But soon they did perceive brave Howe,
Brave Howe, our bold commander,
With grenadiers, and infantry.
We made them to surrender.

Brave William Howe, on our right wing,
Cry'd, boys fight on like thunder ;
You soon will see the rebels fiee
With great amaze and wonder.
Now some lay bleeding on the ground
And some full fast a running
O'er hills and dales and mountains high.
Crying, zounds ! brave Howe's a coming.
They began to play on our left wing,
Where Pegot he commanded ;
But we return'd it back again
With courage most undaunted.
To our grape shot and musket balls.
To which they were but strangers,
They thought to come in with sword in hand,
But soon they found their danger.
And when the works they got into,
And put them to the fiight, sir,
Some of them did hide themselves.
And others died with fright, sir.

/¦^

Bunker Hill Monument.

BUNKER HILL. 37
And then their works we got into
Without great fear or danger.
The work they'd made so firm and strong :
The Yankees are great strangers.
But as for our artillery
They all behaved dinty ;
For while their ammunition held,
We gave it to them plenty.
But our conductor he got broke
For his misconduct, sure, sir ;
The shot he sent for twelTC-pound guns
Were made for twenty-four, sir.
There's some in Boston pleas'd to say,
As we the field were taking.
We went to kill their countrymen.
While they their hay were making ;
For such stout Whigs I never saw ;
To hang them all I'd rather.
For making hay with musket-balls.
And buck-shot mixed together.
Brave Howe is so considerate,
As to prevent all danger ;
He allows half a pint a day ;
To rum we are no strangers.
Long may he live by land and sea.
For he's beloved by many ;
The name of Howe the Yankees dread.
We see it very plainly.

38 HISTORIC BOSTON.
And now my song is at an end ;
And to conclude my ditty.
It is the poor and ignorant.
And only them, I pity.
As for their king John Hancock,
And Adams, if they're taken.
Their heads for signs shall hang up high
Upon that hill call'd Bacon.

III.
JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS.
To Mrs. Frederic Ingham — Dear Polly :
I understand what you say, and I have read
between the lines. That tall Polly of yours
will be at meetings of " Colonial Dames " and
" Daughters of the Pyrates," and I do not
know what other conclaves, when she gets
home, and she wants to talk literature. She
will want to say that she has seen the home
of this author and walked in the footsteps
of that. Dear child, she shall. And you and I
¦will lead her.
She knows, and you know and I know,
that the first absolutely first-rate woik done
in a literary way here was John Eliot's work
— the dear Indian apostle. He was really a
•very remarkable man. Do you know that
39

40 HISTORIC BOSTON.
when the great linguists of this century got
to work, the people we call philologists now,
the Grimms, the Duponceaus, the Brintons,
and the rest of them, when they buckled
down to old John Eliot's studies of the Indian
language they found he understood his busi
ness as well as the best of them, and did as
clean and thorough a bit of work as ever was
done ? That speaks pretty well for his Jesus
College, at Cambridge, and pretty well for
the grit of the dear old fellow himself.
Nobody has any excuse for ignorance
now, for Eliot's admirable successor, one of
to-day's apostles. Dr. De Normandie, has
written out all Eliot's history. I have the
paper before me as I write, and I shall send
it to your Polly. This letter, in fact, is all
taken from it. You will find it in the New
England Magazine, where there is so much
else which a traveller values.
It is only as far as the little statue in a
niche, where Roxbury Street leaves Wash
ington Street, that you will follow Percy's
march, where you went -when you were seek-

JOHN ELIOT AND HLS INDIANS. 41
ing battle memories. And now practically
your " Eliot pilgrimage " -will be over new
ground. Look at the little statue in the
niche —remember that Percy took the road to
the right, and do you go to the left as far as
the People's Bank. A little behind the
People's Bank stood the paisonage where
John Eliot lived from the month of Novem
ber in the year 1632, when he came to be
" teacher " of the First Church in Roxbury,
where Thomas Weld had already been chosen
" minister and pastor." Young Eliot had
graduated at the English Cambridge in 1623,
having studied at Jesus College. Let us
hope that that society knoAvs enough to count
him in the front company of its noblest sons.
Eliot had mariied, only the month before,
the lady whom he called his " ancient dearly
beloved wife " fifty-three years afterward.
While your husband goes upstairs to the
bank to ask for change for a bill, you can
" dilate with the right emotions," as Mr.
Choate said. You and the children can look
northward to the new block of stores, where

42 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Mr. Norton has his furnace and stove shop.
On that corner General Artemas Ward, the
first commander of the Continental army, had
a little fortification, the guns of which com
manded the street over which you have come,
so that the English could not come out. To
build this, Ward pulled do^^•n the house of
Thomas Dudley, the second governor of the
colony, kinsman, perhaps, of Leicester and
Amy Robsart. I say perhaps, because I do
not know, nor does any one else.
Now I am not going to instruct you
about methods of travel. Who am I, to de
cide between a Columbia and a Crescent, and
I dare say those boys and girls of yours will
all expect to take the wheel. As it is John
Eliot we are tracing along, you -will do well
to go up Warren Street far enough to see the
Latin School which lie founded, which is on
Kearsarge Avenue, a little off Warren Street.
We call it the best classical school in America,
and we are very proud that John Eliot is its
founder. But do not " dilate " with the wrong emo-

JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS. 43
tion because it is on Kearsarge Avenue. Do
not say " How fine it is to give an Indian
name to the street where is John Eliot's
school ! " Kearsarge i^. venue is so named,
very properly, for Admiral Winslow's ship, the
" Kearsarge." He fought that fine ship when
she sank the "Alabama," and his house was
in this street. Kearsarge was and is the name
of a mountain in New Hampshire. Ships,
by the way, should never be named from
mountains, which can not move, but rather
from riv^ers, which can. Andes is a bad
name for a ship, and Niagara is a good one.
Kearsarge is not an Indian name. The
hill in New Hampshire was the property
of one Hezekiah Sargent, familiarly called
" Kiah Sargent." This name, for short, be
came " Keah-sarge," and the mountain is so
named to this day, and the ship from the
mountain and the street from the ship. I
tell this to you, dear Polly the younger, be
cause we will study John Eliot's Massa
chusetts language as we go, and I do not
want you to hunt for any impossible ety-

44 HISTORIC BOSTON.

mologies of stray Indian words like " Kear
sarge." *
While the children are on their wheels,
running down to Canton, which is only ten
miles or so away, your husband and you may
as well take the trolley to Jamaica Plain,
where are the Eliot schoolhouse and the
Eliot Club — names which show at least that
we Roxbury people know how to honor our

* I have said above what I believe to be true. But the sub
ject is one of the sorest among New Hampshire antiquarians.
There are now two Mount Kearsarges in New Hampshire. One
is in Warner, in the southern part of the State, and has been
known by the name of Kearsarge for a long time. The other is
in North Conway, in tho noiihern part of the State, and was
formerly named Pequawkct. In my Judgment, it ought to be
named Pequawket to this day ; it is mentioned by that name in
the fine ballad of Lovell's Fight, one of the few New England
ballads. But somebody chose to narae it Kearsarge within the
memory of living men.
When the ship was built, the Governor of New Hampshire
was asked to furnish the names of some mountains in New
Hampshire, for which it might be named. He asked his son to
select two or three names, and araong the rest the son selected
the name Kearsarge. He sent his letter to Washington. At the
same time he sent to the library for one of the early maps, on
which the Kearsarge in Warner, the original Kearsarge, was
named. Then and there he found that the hill was called
"Hezekiah Sargent's Hill." Tliis gentleman told me, and I
have not chosen to go behind his information in the informa
tion which I have given to Polly Ingliara. — Edward E. Hale.

JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS. 45
ancestoi's, for Jamaica Plain is part of Rox
bury. If anybody cares, the Jamaica planters
used to build their summer homes here before
the Revolution. Here you \vill take the train
for Canton, from our \vonderful new station
house. And, once for all, the young people
and you had better invest fifteen cents at
Mr. Backup's for a Trolley Guide, and you
had better have in your pocket the little
book " By Broomstick Train." Then I shall
not have to be telling you at every second
line \vhat these little books will tell you
much better.
Also, you may as well spend the waiting
minutes and hours of the pilgrimage by pick
ing up the rudiments of the language to which
dear John Eliot gave so much of his life. It
is indeed rather strange that we know so lit
tle of it as we do. Richard Green ough was
in State Street one day, when a man asked
him what was the old name of Boston. "Tri-
mountain, do you mean ? " asked Greenough.
" No — that would not answer." " Shawmut,
perhaps ? " " Ah, yes, sir. Thank you. Now

46 HISTORIC BOSTON.
you can tell me where the Shawmut Bank
is ? " Shawmut Avenue ends where Ward's bat
tery stood. And you may as -well remember
that " ut " or " et " means " the place," and is
here as a location after Mishawm, which
means "boats." Thus the peninsula was
named " the place of boats," not a bad name
for yachtsmen to remember now.
I do not " seem to remember," as our fine
vernacular has it, any other Indian names in
Boston but " Winnisimmet " for the ferry,
" Waban," " Monadnock," and " Waumbeck "
streets, and the village of "Mattapan." The
historian of Chelsea does not tell us the
meaning of Winnisimmet. I am disposed to
think that it is a euphonism for Winnesip-
Y>et. " Winne " is " fine," which we have in
" Winnepesaukee," " Wiunipeg," and other
Algonkin ^vor(ls ; " sippe " is " nanning water,"
and " et," like " ut," " the place." " The fine
place of I'unning -^vater " is a good name for
the mouth of Charles River. "\A'e have
"slppi"in Mississipjn, "the great river" — a

JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS. 47
name, by the way, which shows that Algon-
kins had to do with the naming of it. Some
of us think that when La Salle took Massa
chusetts Indians to make his discovery of that
river for him, he did so because they had been
there before. Coxe says so distinctly in his
" Carolana." But we can not really prove it.
Waban Street is named from the chief
Waban, who heard Eliot's first sermon. As
Dr. De Normandie tells us, his name meant
"the wind." Monadnock is named from the
distant mountain in New Hampshire. I sup
pose the word meant, originally, the " land of
wolves," or the "place of wolves."
At Canton station we shall wait for the
bicycles. Here we shall go to see the Eliot
Fountain at Ponkapog. There is a picture
of it in Dr. De Normandie's article. This is
the inscription : " In Memory of the Labors
of the Apostle Eliot among the Indians of
Ponkapog, 1655-1690."
Do you not wish that people would not
speak of the " labors " of a man whose
"work" they mean to praise? Paul spoke

48 HISTORIC BOSTON.
of his 0-wn "labors," but this was in his
modest way, because he must not praise him
self. Work is the power of spirit over matter.
Labor is drudgery, -which wears out and -wears
down. A locomotive engineer says an engine
" works well," or " she labors badly." He
never would say she " labors well," or that
she "works badly." This monument really
inarks the " work " of John Eliot.
I have brought you here because here you
are so close to the Blue Hills which give the
name to the State. "Massa" is "great"; it
is of the same root as " Missi " in Mississippi ;
" wadtchu " is " hill," as in " Wachuset," and
" et," as before said, is the terminal for
" place." When you read in Eliot's Bible .of
the " Sermon on the Mount," you -will read
that Jesus sat on "wadtchu," "a mountain."
I think it is rather pleasant that we have
this connection \vith the name of the State.
You had better by all means go to
Ponkapog pond, which gave the name to
these Indians, if you have time. "Pog" or
"Paug," as a termination, always means

JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS. 41J
" inclosed water." I do uot kiuwv — and they
on the spot can tell you better than I — but I
suppose that Ponkapog means " pt)nd ^vith a
house," and I think there must have been a
" hot-house " for the Turkish bath, as the
Indians practiced. We have a Plot-house

The Eliot memorial at Newton.
Pond, thus named, within a mile of my house
in the Narragansett country.
There \-^ould be a pretty lide, northwest
for some fifteen miles across the country, to
Natick, associated in everybody's mind -with
John Eliot. But Ave want to stop at Nonaii-
tuni, the first place where he pi'eached to
them, so we will go back, bikes and all, to

50 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Boston and take the steam train to Newton,
or the pretty trolley road, with care about
transfers. Look again in Dr. De Norman
die's article for precise directions, or ask at
the station in Newton. The place was on a
hillside, perhaps half a mile from the station,
and is now marked by an elaborate memorial,
built by the Newton people.
"Here At Nonantum, Oct. 28, 1646, In
Waban's Wigwam
Near This Spot, JOHN ELIOT Began to
Preach The Oospel to
The Indians. Here He Founded The First
Christian
Community Of Indians Within The Eng
lish Colonies."
This is the inscription.
Word had been given to the redskins that
he would jDreach, and a large number of
them met in Waban's wigwam. Eliot
preached from Ezekiel xxxvii, 9 : " Son of
Man, say to the wind. Thus saith the Lord
God." Now, as I said, " Waban " means wind,
and the Indian braves Asho could understand
thought that Eliot brought a direct message

JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS. 51
from the Lord to Waban. Eliot says that
he had never thought of this in selecting the
text. But, of course, when it came to utter
ing it, he must have seen how fortunate was

K^^^^^sSs^^^^K-"**^*;

The old elm on Boston Common as it was.
From an old print.
the double meaning. Alas, that so much of
such preaching seems to have been talk to
the wind indeed !
Four years after, Natick — which they say
means " a place of hills," by abbreviation, I
think, from some longer word — was chosen
for a Christian settlement. The village is
not where the Natick of the railway stands.
That town, a large manufacturing place, is
6

52 HISTORIC BOSTON.
about two miles from our Natick, which is
the South Natick of the map, a pretty coun
try village about two miles southeast from
the railway station. Here you -will find
courteous and intelligent gentlemen and
ladies who will be glad to show you the in-
terestiner memorials. First of all the John
Eliot oak. Then the gravestone with the
name of one of the converts, and indeed all
the burial ground, is interesting. You had
better take Old-Town Folks with you and
look up the memories of Mrs. Stowe's work.
Her husband, the distinguished Old Testa
ment scholar, had the Scotch gift of second
sight. He was bom in Natick. He told me
that when he was a child, looking northward
over the comparatively level country over
which you have ridden from Boston, he saw
of a sudden a carriage without horses drag
ging a train of others behind it rush across
the field from east to west. He told his
story at home, and I think was whipped for
lying. The line of carriages ran where you
rode in one as you came to Natick ! He

The Eliot Oak at Natick.

JOHN ELIOT AND HIS INDIANS. 53
was a child, and even Stephenson had never
dreamed of a railway train.
Mr. Stowe used to say that in his boy
hood the Natick Indians had special privi
leges in his grandfather's house there. Any
Indian might come in at any time and might
sleep by the kitchen fire. A hogshead of
cider was always set apart for the free use of
any Indian. They were regarded as quite a
different sort of being from the other tramps
of the day, and had privileges of their own.
Polly dear — young Polly, I mean — see how
far we have advanced in our study of the
Massachusetts language. In twenty days of
such study you would know more of it
than my courier in Spain knew of the lan
guage of Sancho Panza. We have learned
that " auke " or " ocke," means earth, place ;
" paug " or " pog " means inclosed water ;
" massa " means large ; " missi " means large ;
"mishawm" means boats; "monad'n" means
wolves ; " nonantum " means rejoicing ; " Na
tick " means place of hills ; " ponka " means
a hut or huts ; " sippi " means river ; " ut "

54 HISTORIC BOSTON.
means at the place ; " wadtchu " means hill ;
"winne" means fine; and we knew before
that " wigwam " meant house.
For to-night's reading you may take a
few verses from Roger Williams :
Coarse bread and water's most their fare.
0 England's diet fine,
Thy cup runs o'er with plenteous store
Of wholesome beer and wine.
Sometimes God gives them fish or flesh,
Yet they're content without ;
And what comes in they part to friends
And strangers round about.
God's providence is rich to his.
Let none distrustful be ;
In wilderness, in great distress.
These ravens have fed me.

God gives them sleep on ground, on straw.
On sedgy mats, or board :
When England's softest beds of down
Sometimes no sleep afford.
I have known them leave their house or mat
To lodge a friend or stranger.
When Jews and Christians oft have sent
Christ Jesus to the manger.

IV.
TO FIND ONE'S WAY.
The joke with strangers in Boston, who
want to find their way without a map, is to
say— "Be sure what is the direction by compass
of the place you are going to, and take the
first street car which goes the opposite way."
This rule often answers very well. It
might be expected in a town laid out by sea
faring men, who often have to tack north
east and northwest if they want to go north
ward. A better rule is that which Dr. Arnold
gives somewhere in his letters, and which
Stanley, the beloved Dean of Westminster,
repeated to me when he was traveling in
this country. When he came to Boston in
1878 I asked him what he wanted to see in
Boston : did he want to see institutions, or
55

56 HISTORIC BOSTON.
buildings, or men ? for that he should see
whatever he wanted. He answered, good-
naturedly and with a laugh, that the old
historical impulse had broken out again. " I
want to see anything about history. Show
me where the Old Elm was on Boston Com
mon. I know that it has been blown down,
but I want to see what there is left of it."
He told me that the first day he arrived he
had gone to the top of the State House. He
said this was in following out a rule of the
great Thomas Arnold, who said that when
you visited a new place you ought to see it
from above, that you might understand after
ward something of its geography. And
afterward Phillips Brooks gave me a most
amusing account of this visit to the top of
the State House. Stanley was a little man,
light and active ; and Brooks said he ran up
the stairways of the State House as a spar
row might do, in advance, while poor Brooks,
who must have weighed two hundred and
twenty-five pounds if he weighed an ounce,
was toiling slowly behind.

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 5Y
I took Stanley at his word. It ^vas in
the ride we took then that I showed him
Eliot's grave. We took a carriage at once,
quite early in the afternoon, and went first
that he might see where the Wishing Stone
was, and so down to the iron fence which
surrounds the relics of the Old Elm. It is
now twenty years since the greater part of
that tree was blown down, but quite a re
spectable " scyon " is growing up from the
roots, and our greatgrandchildren will say
that from that tree Mary Dyer was hanged.
We went up Highland Street, stopped at my
own house, and then went to what there was
left of Ward's old fort on Fort Hill Street.
Observe, this is not the " Fort Hill " of the
original Trimount, but was named Fort Hill
because Ward put his fort here. It is Gen
eral Ward's large fort, sometimes called in
the braggart authors " a place of arms." If
you read the account of it which Hilliard
d'Auberteuil, a Frenchman, published in
Paris in 1779 you would say it was another
Gibraltar.

58 HISTORIC BOSTON.
I have always supposed that Ward made
the fort for the sake of giving his soldiers
something to do. It was quite large ; it had
four bastions, one at each corner, and it abso
lutely commanded the passage out by the
Neck. No English force could have moved
across the Neck while the Americans held
that fort. The small fort, where the Univer-
salist church stood till lately, and where a
row of small shops has just now been built,
is that we saw the John Eliot day.
I remember that as we stood on this hill
and looked around, Stanley asked me which
was the forest into which Hester fled with
her child in Hawthorne's book. I showed
him the edge of the Blue Hills, and told him
I thought she probably went there. After
ward we saw Warren's birthplace ; we went
to Meeting-house Hill that he might get the
view from the high land there. I remember
he was delighted to find the word " meeting
house " in familiar use, as the carriage driver
himself used it in speaking to me. We fol
lowed the course by which Ward and Thomas

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 59
led the American troops on the night of the
4th of March, and I showed him what there is
left of the old fortifications on the South
Boston hills. So we returned, after the gas
lights were lighted, to the Brunswick House,
where he was staying.
I give these details because that very
course, in a carriage or on bicycles, is a good
route for any one to follow who has but a
few hours for history, besides that which we
have already studied. You will see from the
South Boston hills Hog Island, where Put
nam won his first laurels in the Revolution.
You can see the two rivers, the Mystic and
the Charles, and Bunker Hill between them.
You can see how the American army hemmed
in the British force, commanded first by Gage
and afterward by Howe.
The traveller ought to observe, wherever
he goes in Boston, that the very names of the
streets carry him back through the history of
the town. We should not repeat those names
of streets as if there were no meaning at
tached to them. When we say " Hanover

60 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Street," we should remember what it was to
these good people that the house of Hanover
came to the throne, and that the Stuarts,
whom they hated so thoroughly, were driven
away forever. We should remember, and we
should thank God, that there is no Bourbon
Street, and no Hapsburg. A miserable Stuart
Street, two years old, will not last long.
When a visitor from abroad goes through
Newbury Street, we do not want him to
think merely that the houses are all nailed
up, and that all his friends have moved to
Bar Harbor or Magnolia or Swampscott.
This will be true if he arrives between the
first of June and the first of October; but
let him, as he turns away discouraged, recol
lect how Charles I and Prince Rupert turned
the tails of their horses on Newbury in Eng
land, and retired before a certain Oliver
Cromwell and his troopers. Let him say to
himself, " These old Puritans named New
bury Street that their children might remem
ber some such passages as that in history."
This Newbury Street is not the Newbury

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 61
Street they so named ; they had occasion
afterward to change the name of that street
to Washington Street, in honor of a certain
George Washington who followed in the
footsteps of that Oliver Cromwell.
When the stranger goes through Marlbor
ough Street, looking for some few of his cous
ins who may not have gone to their summer
bathing place, let him remember how, when
the great Duke of Marlborough was beating
the French and certain allies of theirs, we
were rejoicing here and having Thanksgiving
Days in his honor, and that a part of our
Washington Street was named Marlborough
Street at that time. If he come up from his
train by Beach Street, let him remember that
here was a beach, and that adventurous boys
pushed off their dories as they went out to
fish. If he come through Federal Street, let
him remember that here was a meeting house
made famous by one William Ell ery Chan-
ning in after years. And the street changed
its name from Long Lane on the famous day
when

62 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Convention did in State House meet,
And when it wouldn't hold 'em
They all went down to Federal Street,
And there the truth was told 'em.

That is to say, it was in this meeting house
that the convention sat which adopted the
Federal Constitution.
So, as history goes by, it has left its im
prints. And that is a dull master of a Bos
ton school who can not illustrate the two
hundred and fifty years which have passed,
in the daily walks of his pupils. I was very
much honored, some years ago, when some
kindergarten children, none of whom, I think,
were more than seven years old, gave me
a set of their own drawings of the history
of Boston from the time that Winthrop
shook hands with Massasoit down to the time
when the "Constitution," built at the North
End, fought " bold Dacres." I suppose they
will name the new park at the North End
" Constitution Park " in honor of Hart's
Yard, where her keel was laid and where
she sprang into life as a thing of beauty.

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 63
We have no Constitution Street nor Place
nor Wharf nor Park at this moment, but
we will have soon. The people at that
time observed that the "Constitution" and
the "United States" won all the victories,
while the " President" was captured and the
" Congress " was blockaded.
Some names commemorate events which
would else be wholly forgotten. When Gen
eral Eaton took the city of Derne in north
ern Africa, by taking the responsibility of a
military movement which no one had ordered,
Mr. Samuel Russell, then a young man,
thought that sufficient deference was not paid
Eaton, and himself had a sign painted with
the name " Derne Street " upon it, which he
nailed upon the corner of the street on which
now the northern entrances of the State
House open. The State House Park of to
day is therefore bounded by Beacon Street,
which commemorates days as early as when
the colony defied Charles I ; by Derne Street,
which commemorates a victory which every
body has forgotten ; Bowdoin Street, which

64 HISTORIC BOSTON.
commemorates the first name on the list of
the State's delegates to the Continental Con
gress ; and Hancock Avenue, which bears the
name of the first signer of the Declaration
of Independence. When we "get round to
it," as a New England phrase says, we shall
erect a statue in his memory.
Any one of my age in America has
known personally people who had an active
part in the Revolution and has seen many
physical memorials of the Revolution in Bos
ton which have not been preserved till to
day. When I was a boy, for instance, the
square redoubt which General Gage's troops
threw up on Boston Common was in a better
condition for its purpose than it was the day
after it was built, for it was well sodded by
the grass of more than fifty years which had
gro-wn on it. In winter we dragged our
sleds up through what would be called, I
suppose, a sally port, and we coasted down
through the same as far as Charles Street
Mall, which was then new. Some "capabil
ity man " or incapable improver has since

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 65
smoothed off the breastworks, because when
it rained, water stood behind them.
When, by the direction of the formidable
batteries on Dorchester Heights, Washing
ton drove the English out from the town.
General Howe took his whole army to Hali
fax. With the army went a very consider
able number of the Tories of Boston and
Massachusetts. Washington had no objec
tion to permitting any Tories who wished to
go into the besieged city and help General
Howe eat the salt pork and salt beef which
he had provided for the besieged. I have
never seen in print a little scrap which was
traditional when I was a boy :
And what have you got for all your designing
But a town Avithout dinner to sit down and dine in ?
A good many such scraps still lingered
among people as old as I am, avhose ancestry
spent the months of siege inside. I have
myself seen a lady who was at Faneuil Hall,
as a girl of fifteen, when Burgoyne's play.
The Blockade of Boston, which was being

66 HISTORIC BOSTON.
acted by English officers, was broken up by
the news of a sudden attack which Putnam
had made upon their barracks in Charles
town. The girls had to go home that night
without their escorts. The gay officers were
ordered to their posts.
The Tory wits of the town for years be
fore had had their share in making ballads,
as our wits had done.
That patriot Jimmy Otis, that bully in disguise.
That well-known tyke of Yorkshire, that magazine
of lies :
And he will mount the rostrum, and loudly he will
bray,
" Eebel, rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel, America ! "
This is one of such verses. It is to the air
of the British Grenadiers, which is still a favor
ite in English mess-rooms. I crossed the ocean
in 1859 with some English army officers, who
sang to us the modern version, which brought
in the name of Lord Raglan and the battles
of Inkermann and the Alma. I was able
to give them the verses of 1775, then nearly
eighty years old and unknown to them before.

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 67
Come, come, fill up your glasses, and drink a health
to those
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear their looped
clothes.
For be you Whig or Tory or any mortal thing.
Be sure that you give glory to George our gracious
king.
For if you prove rebellious, we'll thunder in your
ears
Huzza, huzza, huzza, huzza, for the British Grena
diers !
I may say in passing that the ballad, now
so well known, of "Father 'n' I went down
to Camp," by Edward Bangs, which belongs
to nearly the same time, was written on the
other side of the line.
Among the refugee merchants who put
all their available stores on board their own
vessels to go to Halifax under the escort of
General Howe, was my own grandmother's
grandfather, a timid merchant at the North
End, and, as I believe, a highly respectable
person. I am a little apt to think that he
signed all the petitions and remonstrances
which were offered him by the leaders on
either side. He seems to have had a catholic

68 HISTORIC BOSTON.
indifference of opinion, but he -was so quiet a
person that he had not removed the family
out of town during the siege.
Unfortunately for all concerned, except
Washington and his army, the fleet in the
bay experienced very rough weather before
Howe and his admirals were ready to make
the voyage to Halifax. My great-great-grand
father's wife was so seasick that she declared
she could not survive the voyage ; and fortu
nately for me and mine the sloop on which
they were all engaged ran into the harbor
of Newburyport. To this fortunate tnal de
mer of my great-great-grandmother do I owe
it that, so far as she is concerned, I am an
American citizen, or, indeed, I might say,
that I am anybody anywhere. I have told in
another place the story of the mutton broth
which she received in the siege. At the
time, the present of the shoulder of mutton
from which it was made was ascribed, I be
lieve, to miracle. In the last dozen years we
have learned that it came from Major Mon-
crief as a present to Doctor Eliot, and Doctor

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 69
Eliot left it, before light, at the back door of
the house in which the invalid was lying.
This is, I believe, the Doctor Eliot of whom
it is said that, in his broad catholicity, one
Sunday when he was engaged in praying for
all sorts and conditions of men, for the sick,
the prisoners, the sailors, the strangers within
our gates, and so on, he concluded this peti
tion by the generous wish, "Last of all, O
Lord, for the poor old Devil himself, that his
sufferings may be somewhat mitigated." I can
not, of course, vouch for the absolute truth
of the anecdote ; I do know that it reflects
very well the large generosity of the man.
I have often seen Major Melvill pass
our house, the same who has been immor
talized by Doctor Holmes in the ballad of
The Last Leaf. He wrote this at about
the time when I used to see the old gentle
man, in his cocked hat, his blue coat, and his
buff breeches, pass up or down School Street,
by the house where we then lived. He was
called, truly or not, one of the survivors of
the Tea Party.

70 HISTORIC BOSTON.
With regard to those survivors, there is
an interesting fact to be borne in mind,
which is, indeed, an illustration of the credit
to be given to many historical traditions.
The proper Tea Party — that is to say, the
body of men who combined and went to
gether to Griffin's Wharf to throw the tea
into the sea — organized itself in a Masonic
lodge, or in Masonic lodges, and the members
took an oath that they would never reveal
the events of that night. To this oath they
all held themselves bound till the last one of
them died. The enterprise required that
the North End section should pass the Old
South Meeting-House, where a meeting was
going forward, adjourned from Faneuil Hall,
to consider the whole business of the tea.
This meeting was not strictly a Boston town
meeting, although the Boston town meeting
was merged in it ; but there were citizens
from all the neighboring towns present. At
the moment when the disguised Mohawks
came to the meeting-house, Sam Adams, who
was presiding, said, " This meeting can do

The Frog Pond, Boston Common.

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 71
nothing more to save the country," and ad
journed it. All the three or four thousand
people who were present then followed " the
Mohawks" to the -wharf. By this time, un
doubtedly, all Boston knew -what was going
on, and as the sun went down and as the
moon came out on the scene, it may be fairly
guessed that nineteen twentieths of the adult
male population of Boston was on the slope of
Fort Hill or on the shore, rendering such
assistance as they could in the enterprise in
hand. But one tradition and another tell
how, when new men attempted to board the
ships, they were prevented by sentries estab
lished by the original conspirators. These
conspirators were men who understood all
about unloading ships ; it was the business
of many of them in daily life ; and the car
goes were withdrawn with haste and the
three hundred and seventy-three chests of tea
were emptied into the sea. Then everybody
went home. The tea, in enormous masses,
drifted up and down the harbor on the sur
face of the water for days ; a good deal of it

72 HISTORIC BOSTON.
was left on South Boston Point. From these
sources and from the boots of the men who
were at woi'k, come the specimens of the tea
which are shown in almost all the museums
of New England to this day.
It will be observed, then, that almost
every adult citizen of Boston was engaged,
more or less directly, in throwing the tea
overboard. A small number of these persons,
perhaps a hundred more or less, had sworn
never to mention that fact. So far as any
body knows, they never did mention it. Of
which this curious consequence has come into
history, that if, within the last seventy-five
years, any old gentleman has said that he was
of the Boston Tea- Party, it is perfectly sure
that he was not one of the party of men
who really did throw the tea into the harbor.
If, on the other hand, any nice old gentle
man, asked by his grandchildren if he were
of the Tea Party, smiled and put off the sub
ject and began talking about General Wash
ington or General Gage, it is well-nigh cer
tain that he was one of that confederation.

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 73
In other words, the men who said they threw
the tea overboard did not, and the men who
did not say they did, were the parties most
engaged. As for personal intimacy with the people
who fought in the war, I can say but little.
A little boy of five did not dare run up to
Major Melvill and ask him to tell stories of
the Revolution. I have, however, with these
eyes, seen the banners which Stark sent down
from Bennington, as his tribute of gratitude
to the Massachusetts militia. Alas for the
sentiment of such things ! Mr. Kuhn, then
the messenger, as he was called, of the Legis
lature — holding the same duties as those now
discharged by the sergeant-at-arms — found
that the banners were dirty and moth-eaten,
and put them into the dust-barrel one fine
day; so that they have ceased to exist for
mortal eyes for the last sixty years. People
of the same make-up wanted last year to do
the same thing with the State House itself,
but have fortunately been foiled.
The excellent story of the Boston school-

74 HISTORIC BOSTON.
boys who waited upon the English general is
well known to most children in the Northern
States. I had that story told me by one of
the survivors of the committee appointed by
the Boston Latin School to attend to this
affair. His name was Jonathan Darby Robins,
and in the year 1846 he was still li-ving, with
a perfectly fresh memory of this transaction
which had taken place not long before the
battle of Lexington. The Latin School then
stood where Parker's hotel is now, on the
south side of that School Street to which the
school gave its name. The spot is directly
opposite where Franklin's statue now stands.
This is just where it should be, for Franklin
was a schoolboy in the same school, when the
schoolhouse occupied its present site where
the statue now is. The boys, before and
after school, were in the habit of coasting
from the hill, then higher than it is now,
which rises above the Congregational House,
behind the great pile of the new Tremont
Buildings. They coasted down what we call
Beacon Street across Tremont Street, and

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 75
kept on down School Street to Washington
Street. General Haldimand, a brigadier in
the English army, occupied the house which
stood on School Street, next below where the
Parkei- House now is. Haldimand's servant
did not like this coasting business, and he
scattered ashes on the coast so as to make it
easier for his master and the officers to come
in and out at the Beacon Street door. Find
ing that their remonstrances failed, the Latin
School boys appointed a committee of their
first class to wait upon Haldimand. Haldi
mand received them courteously, and the boys
told him that coasting was one of their in
alienable rio-hts. Haldimand did not wish to
make more trouble in a town which was as
ripe for rebellion as Boston, so he sent for the
servant and gave him a good scolding, and
bade him take care, every cold night, to repair
the coast by pouring water upon it, which
should freeze so that it should be kept in
good condition for the boys.
With the vagueness of another genera
tion, the scene of this exploit has been trans-

76 HISTORIC BOSTON.
ferred to Boston Common. No Boston boy
then thought any more of going out to coast
on the Common than he would now think of
going down to coast on Deer Island. The
painters have represented the visit also as
made at the Province House ; but in point of
fact the visit, as Mr. Robins told me himself,
was made on Haldimand at his own quarters.
BOSTON.
The rocky nook with hilltops three
Looked eastward from the farms,
And twice each day the flowing sea
Took Boston in its arms ;
The men of yore were stout and poor.
And sailed for bread to every shore.
And where they went on trade intent
They did what freemen can.
Their dauntless ways did all men praise.
The merchant was a man.
The world was made for honest trade.
To plant and eat be none afraid.

The wild rose and the barberry thorn
Hung out their summer pride.
Where now on heated pavements worn
The feet of millions stride.

TO FIND ONE'S WAY. 77
Fair rose the planted hills behind
The good town on the bay.
And where the western hills declined
The prairie stretched away.
What care though rival cities soar
Along the stormy coast,
Penn's town, New York, and Baltimore,
If Boston knew the most !
They laughed to know the world so wide ;
The mountains said " Good-day !
We greet you well, you Saxon men.
Up with your towns, and stay ! "
The world was made for honest trade,
To plant and eat be none afraid.
" For you," they said, " no barriers be,
For you no sluggard rest ;
Each street leads downward to the sea.
Or landward to the west."
0 happy town beside the sea.
Whose roads lead everywhere to all ;
Than thine no deeper moat can be,
No stouter fence, no steeper wall !
The sea, returning day by day,
Eestores the world-wide mart ;
So let each dweller on the bay
Fold Boston in his heart,
Till these echoes be choked with snows,
Or over the town blue ocean flows.

78 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Let the blood of her hundred thousands
Throb in each manly vein ;
And the wits of all her wisest
Make sunshine in her brain.
For you can teach the lightning speech,
And round the globe your voices reach.
And each shall care for other.
And each to each shall bend,
To the poor a noble brother,
To the good an equal friend.
A blessing through the ages thus
Shield all thy roofs and towers !
God with the Fathers, so with us,
Thou darlino; town of ours !

V.
HAEVAED COLLEGE.
Yes, my dear young ladies, I understand
all you say. There will not be time, perhaps,
for you to go to see Emerson's home, and Dr.
Channing's house, and Mr. Prescott's, which
is torn down, and Mr. Bancroft's, which is
burned down. But why not go to the college
itself, where they were matured, and " dilate
with the right emotions " there ? " Might
not one see, indeed, at the same time, Mr.
Fiske's home, and Mr. Eliot's, and Mrs. Alice
Freeman Palmer's, and Dr. Peabody's, and
Mr. Shaler's, if only from the outside ? "
Certainly; yes, dear girls, all things are
possible to the brave and to the elect. And
all these shall you see in one excursion.
Two years ago I had been lecturing on
The Human Washington, in Philadelphia,
8 79

80 HISTORIC BOSTON.
and as I returned to my home there, one of
my audience joined me in the car to ask me
if I was personally acquainted with President
Washington. As this remark showed me that
she thought me at least one hundred and
fifteen years old, I was well pleased that, as
we Yankees have it, she thought I " bore my
years so well." Mr. James T. Fields had a
better story than mine. He had been reading
at Cambridge his charming lecture on John
Dryden, and a law student, who had been
specially interested, asked him if he knew
Dryden personally. This implied that Mr.
Fields's flowing, black hair had stood well
the winters of nearly two centuries. These
anecdotes I mention because we are now
going to Cambridge, where we oldsters speak
always as if we had, "with these very hands
and heads of ours, done the whole thing, or
with these very eyes seen it done. Thus, " we
printed Eliot's Bible here," means that Har
vard College did it, and so we did it our
selves. She is our Alma Mater, and Avhen
we were in the loins <.>f our ancestors Har-

HARVARD COLLEGE. 81
vard College did this thing of which we
speak. Yes, my dear Mrs. Ingham, an open street
cai' it shall be. I am not sure that they ride
in them in Paradise ; but a charming Boston
day, wind from the bay, thermometer at 68°
rising, you and I will find it hard to take a
more agreeable vehicle. "Please stop at
Wadsworth." To you aside, dear Polly, now
the man has gone forward, I will whisper
that this is an old conductor. He is the very
man who " took a day off " because there was
a new volume of Browning which he wanted
to read. All the drivers and all the other
conductors heard of this, and so they all took
a day or two off to read Browning, and this
was the way that the great strike of ten
years ago began. So at least they tell that
story on us in Chicago.
But before we come to Harvard Square,
where " Wadsworth " is, observe that we rise
and fall a little. We ascend and descend
the side of Dana Hill. On our left here used
to be some redoubts thrown up to keep the

82 HISTORIC BOSTON.
English from invading Cambridge by way of
Charles River.
As late as the end of the last century —
say in 1790, or thereabouts — this very Dana
Hill was offered to the college, it is said, for
only five thousand dollars. Alas and alas —
there were no five thousand dollars ! Presi
dent Eliot would find it easier today to
collect five million dollars for the college
than it would have been then to collect five
thousand. If, by good fortune, some angel
in heaven had dropped a gold nugget \vorth
five thousand dollars — say a hundred and
fifty ounces of gold (less than ten pounds) —
and if the president had picked it up, and had
bought Dana Farm — why, the college to-day
would have a home as large as any of her
Western sisters.
But this was not to be. So you see " the
yard," as we call it — never "the campus" — is
not so big as it would be in Nebraska.
Here is Wadsworth, and here the Brown
ing-loving conductor drops us. The dear old
house is nearly two centuries old; and you

Wadsworth House, Cambridge.

HARVARD COLLEGE. 83
and I, Mrs. Ingham, may be glad if we ever
live in a better. The government of the col
lege, which was then really the State govern
ment, wanted the minister of the First Church
in Boston for president of the college. But
he would not go to Cambridge unless they
would build him a fit home. So they built
this home for him. It is a good type of the
architecture of 1700. You see it has the
comfortable and convenient gambrel roof of
that time.
I met a lady yesterday who told me she
had read with interest of the life and work of
Monsieur Mansard, the French architect, and
she asked where she should find the life of
Monsieur Gambrel. For our purposes his is a
better roof, not to say more picturesque, than
the French Mansard. See this fine old balus
trade to the stairways. And ^\'hat paneling
they had ! This handsome parlor on the left
is the " ministers' room." Here, eveiy day, in
term time, from nine to twelve, the minister
" in residence " sits — writes to his wife, per
haps, in far Duluth, or wherever you please.

84 HISTORIC BOSTON.
unless one of his undergraduate boys comes
in on a visit of courtesy, of loneliness, or of
inquiry. Trust me, who know, there are no
three hours in that minister's life more inter
esting than those he thus spends here, with
the frank sympathy of intercourse A\'ith these
fine young fellows. " Dr. Primrose, we are
going to wear hunting shirts in the proces
sion. We fellows did not know whether the
fringes should be yellow or purple. What
do you think ? " Or, perhaps, more seriously,
"Dr. Primrose, you said in chapel that thus
and thus. . . ." " Do you think the Saviour
meant . . . ? " and so on, in the gravest and
dearest intimacies of life. Or, " Dr. Prim
rose, please read this letter. Do you think I
ought to . . . ?" and so on in a young man's
frank confidence.
Here are some autographs you will like
to see in the memorandum book of the
preachers. There is Dr. Vincent's ; here is
Phillips Brooks's. This is the picture of old
Wadsworth. Yes, Longfellow's great gi'aiid-
father, or some sort of a cousin. But one

HARVARD COLLEGE. 85
must not stay here. Indeed, I could not, of
course, have brought you in were we not in
vacation. Perhaps I should have explained
that at Harvard there are six chaplains repre
senting different religious communions. For
three weeks at a time one of these gentlemen
is " in residence " here to serve the students
in any way he can.
Come out of this side door. When this
was the president's house, in Kirkland's day,
this office was built for him. You never
heard of Kirkland, Polly, but you have
heard of his "freshman," the boy who ran
his errands for him. His name it was Ralph
Waldo Emerson, and his room was over the
office, up there. One of these clays, "when
we get round to it," we are going to put a
bronze plate here to say so.
Things were not so grand in those days
in the young fellows' rooms as you will see
them to day. Miss Polly.
It is rather less than a century since the
little school of the fathers began to take on
the style of a college. The era of the deter-

86 HISTORIC BOSTON.
mination that it should be elevated from the
somewhat wooden arrangements of a poor
school into an institution where young men
could really be trained for the duties of men
may be roughly marked by the inauguration
of John Thornton Kirkland as president of
the college. Kirkland was an accomplished
scholar. He had the advantages of life in
the excellent social circles of the Boston of
his time. The appointment of Dr. Kirkland
marked a determination that the college should
lead in the higher education of America.
That is to say, the rich men of Boston de-
tei mined to have a place worthy of the new
nation where their sons could be educated.
Enough of these gentlemen knew what such
an education was, and they were willing to
give the money which should elevate this
school to a higher plane. With the enlarge
ment of its resources, and with the character
of the men who were teachers, everything
changed. Little details as to the manner of
life changed also, and gradually, between the
year 1800 and our year 1898, the whole ex-

«.»«*>*'-

The College Yard.

HARVARD COLLEGE. 87
ternal method of life has changed at Cam
bridge. I was in college between the yeai-s
1835 and 1839, when this change was already
in progress, but before the college had at
tained the conditions of to-day. For a little
instance, which is a convenient one, I re
member that most of my older friends were
surprised when they were told that I was to
have a carpet in my room. To the minds of
people who had not known what college life
was within the ten years before, a carpet was
entirely out of place in a college room. I
am quite sure that there was not a pianoforte
in any undergraduate's room. And a curious
illustration of life elsewhere appeared one
day Avhen Mr. Lovering in lecturing spoke
of billiard balls and their movement on the
table. More than half of the members of
my class had never seen a billiard ball. Dr.
Peabody has given some details of the last
experiences of the " Buttery." This was the
place to which students went for a mug of
milk, some rolls of bread, and a piece of but
ter, from which the breakfast and the suppei

88 HISTORIC BOSTON.
of the undergraduate was made, in his own
room. The Buttery was a shed at the east
end of Harvard Hall. Till lately some trace
of its roof could be seen on the eastern wall
of that building. But now they are covered
by Ampelopsis. At commons, that is, in Dr.
Peabody's day, and in the days of the older
graduates whom I knew best, no meal was
served excepting dinner. A like simplicity
prevailed in many other matters, the forms
of which in some cases were borrowed from
the methods of the English colleges and in
some from those of a log-cabin.
On the other hand, there were some tradi
tions of academic life which would be consid
ered now formal or quaint. No person could
appear in a recitation room or at chapel who
was not dressed in black, or in what was
called " black mixed " in the regulations.
This rule was quite strictly enforced in the
earlier part of my college life, but we emerged
¦from it so far that in 1838 and 1889 there
came in a fashion in summer of wearing hunt
ing shirts of every conceivable color ; and

HARVARD COLLEGE. 89
these were permitted by what we called the
parietal board, the board which managed
such details.
The visitor will do almost as well on foot
for the Cambridge excursions which are to
be described as on wheels. But, of course,
an open carriage with an intelligent " driver "
is a convenience. First, the library — Gore
Hall. The original building is a reduced
copy in granite of one of the chapels in the
English Cambridge. Perhaps, one day, when
we have built a larger library, we may use
this as a chapel. But we enter on one side
of this ; this library is open, thank Heaven !
every day in the year. Attentive and trained
assistants will do the honors, and you may
spend days here happily. Be sure to see the
mask of Cromwell's face, the original MS. of
Longfellow's Excelsior, and ask for any Amer
ican map, or indeed for anything else in his
tory which interests you, and you will be apt
to see it. For this century they have the
original of the prize papers of every man

90 HISTORIC BOSTON.
who ever graduated here — say, Emerson's,
Sumner's, Phillips's, Parkman's, and so on.
But if you only have one hour we must
go on. " Mr. Kiernan, this lady would like
to see the Logia which they dug up in
Egypt. Will it trouble you to show it to
her?" " Certainly not. Here is the facsimile.
Or would you like to see the Sinaitic MS. in
facsimile ? "
" No ; we must not wait. Thank you, Mr.
Kiernan, we must go on."
These people whom you see in summer
in the great reading room in Gore Hall, and
these who walk about in the yard as if they
were -visitors — as we are — asking which was
Henry Knox's room, and where Chickataw-
but lived, these are not Harvard students
proper, nor " annex " or Radcliffe girls. These
are in the " summer schools," and to most of
them the college yard at Harvard is as new
as it is to you. Why, yes ! Surely this
is Hollis Hohvorthy ! My dear fellow, how
are you ? I have not seen you since you re-

JO a;be

o
O

HARVARD COLLEGE. 91
ceived your diploma, tnagna cum laude !
Twenty-five years ago! Is it possible? and
this fine fellow ? Really ? Seventeen years
old, is he ? And you are looking at carpets
for his room in the fall ? Now you ladies are
safe. Mr. Holworthy shall take Miss Ingham
to see the Vas-Sol * and the statue of Day,
the printer, while I and Mrs. Ingham  "
" No ? Then w^e will all keep together, only
we have but three hours left, and I shall
hurry you everywhere. Miss Ingham, this
is Mr. Holden Holworthy. He is an under
graduate here, and -will explain everything to
you. Yes, you will, Holden ; a fellow who
has only just passed his examinations knows
more than anybody else in the world."
So we cross to the old building with the
cupola and the bell. Yonder, up four stories,
is the narrow gulf which Tutor McKean
jumped over in his undergraduate days. He
had been melting pewter into the college
* The Vas-Sol tombstone is in the burying ground opposite
the college yard. It is the same stone -which Mr. Lowell and
Dr. Holmes refer to. Vas-Sol — a vase, and the sun — represent
the Vassal family.

92 HISTORIC BOSTON.
bell, heard steps below, walked down the
roof and sprang across the little gap to the
roof of Hollis, so as to secure his retreat.
A little triangle on the end wall, if you
could see it, would show where the Buttery
was when fellows breakfasted and supped in
their rooms. They came here for milk and
bread. At the head of these stone steps
there used to be a sundial a hundred years
ago. We have the dial now, rescued from an
old junk shop, and when " we get round to
it " we shall mount it here again. They need
another sundial on the gable of Massachusetts
yonder. At the pump yonder, Holden, your
grandfather filled his pail once a day or more
often, and then he lugged it up into the
fourth story of Hollis. Yes, there is the old
elm which we used to dance around on class
day. Holden, that little brick chapel is
named for the ladies whose honored name
you bear. They were rich Nonconformists
of England, who sent word that they should
like to build a chapel for the college. The
corporation was frugal — as it is now —

HARVARD COLLEGE. 93
counted its little handful of students, I sup
pose, and allowed for a possible increase of
fifty per cent, and built this dear little sanc
tuary. When the ladies Holden got the
bills, they were sadly disappointed because
it was so small. They had imagined some
thing like the magnificent chapels of Oxford
or Cambridge. Such, at least, is the tradition.
That was my room, for two years, up one
flight, rear of Stoughton. Yes, named after
the old governor. But this is not the old
Stoughton. That was burned down in the
siege of Boston. Here is Holworthy — named
for your kinsman, Hollis ; and now I am going
to hurry you out from the " yard " proper
by the new gate because I want you to
have half an hour at Memorial Hall, half
an hour at each of the museums, and Hol
den there will want to take us all into the
gymnasium, and you must at least see the ob
servatory and the Botanic Garden.
As we come out, dear Mrs. Ingham, pray
notice how characteristic and venerable this
fine gateway is. Really it is not ten years

94 HISTORIC BOSTON.
old, but it looks a good two centuries al
ready. No, Polly, dear, you can not go into
the Fogg Museum to-day. There are pictures
and prints and other fine art, but Mr. Hol
worthy must bring you for a whole afternoon
there. Now we must cross the street to
what people used to call the Delta, and here
is the Memorial Hall.
Yes, Miss Polly, " Delta," as the triangu
lar island at the mouth of the Nile is a
delta. This roadway which we have crossed
was once the Concord turnpike, and when
they made it, it cut off this corner, and then
the corner had the classical name given to
it. When the gymnastic fad came in, say
in the year 1827, under Lieber and FoUen
and Beck — German exiles of the days of the
Holy Alliance — parallel bars and horses of
wood for leaping, and great gallows trees for
ladders and swings and climbing were placed
here. Here is the place of which Freeman
Clarke tells such awful stories' of his climb
ing. All this appai'atus went to its own
place under the destructive influences of

HARVARD COLLEGE. 95
those prehistoric times, and the Delta became
the ballground for prehistoric football and
baseball. After the war, however, when we deter
mined to build the Memorial Hall, Mr. Eliot
arranged for the great Jarvis playground,
and all the games went there so that this
hall might be built on the Delta ; and here is
Mr. French's fine statue of John Harvard.
See, Miss Ingham, how -wistfully he looks
into the west. It was " the western mys
tery " which they all hoped to solve. And
he, instead of sol-ving it, must die ! And he
knows he must die ! So he leaves the college
to work out the mystery for him. Hardly
thirty years old !
Come into the hall. Here is the real me
morial hall, between the dining room and the
theater. Mr. Hollis, will you show the ladies
the inscriptions ? You do not remember the
men. I had rather not talk here.
And from this monumental transept
there opens the great hall of the college, pic-

96 HISTORIC BOSTON.
ture gallery, and dining room, and on the
right, op])Osite to it, the Sanders Theater.
Yes, Mrs. Ingham, we can go into the dining
hall. If it was term time they would be set
ting the tables. These marble busts are of
the presidents of the college for this century ;
and the three Presidents we have given the
nation are here. Old John Adams there is
by Copley ; his son is there, the head, I think,
is by Stuart ; and Hayes, in the middle there,
is by Chase. The \vindows have been given
as memorials by separate classes as they grad
uated. This is John Lovell, who caned John
Hancock when he did not know his Latin
grammar. Hancock himself is somewhere
yonder, I believe. Stay as long as you like ;
only there is so little time. We will cross
over to the theater.
Sanders Theater this is, named from the
Sanders whose money built it. It is well-
nigh perfect for its purpose ; and all the high
functions are held here. On the Commence
ment day when the fine statue of President
Josiah Quincy, by Story, was first displayed

HARVARD COLLEGE. 97
here, his great grandson, the present Mayor
of Boston, Josiah Quincy, was graduated.
He had one of the leading parts, magna cum
laude / and on the platform \vere seated two
more Josiahs, his grandfather, who had been
mayor as his father had been, and Mr. Josiah
P. Quincy, every way worthy of his place in
the line. The father of the President was
the Josiah Quincy of the days before the
Revolution. But the Sanders half hour is up. Just
come round to the western corridor and see
the statues. Now we must cross to the
Agassiz Museum. It is only a few steps ;
we may as well walk. We are in "Profess
ors' Row," as old-fashioned people used to
call it. Farther on it is the " Milk row " by
which Percy and the rest fled to Charlestown
on the night of the New England Chevy-
Chase. We shall come in at the west door of the
museum, because, if you ladies see nothing
else, you must see the glass flowers. I will
give you half an hour where you might spend

98 HISTORIC BOSTON.
half a day. You can not see anything like
this collection anywhere else in the world.
The ladies of Professor Ware's family en
abled the college to retain the ser-vices of the
maker of these glass flowers, and the experts
of his family, all of them in Europe, to make
this wonderful permanent exhibit of the
American flora. The colors will not fade, as
they do when flowers are pressed, and with
scientific precision every detail of each plant
is presented for study and for you and me to
see how beautiful the world is.
And have you seen the meteorites, Hol
worthy ? These have been placed here since
your time.
Botanists and other flower lovers will be
apt to linger, passing from case to case, till it
is time to close the hall ; but if people are
resolute and can tear themselves away, they
may pass to the zoological sections, and just
take in an idea of the wonderful resources
which they offer to students. Louis Agassiz
is the founder of the museum. His son Alex
ander has given to it its place and dignity in

HARVARD COLLEGE. 99
the great collections of the world. The ar
rangement seems well-nigh perfect for stu
dents or for sightseers. For in this central
room where we now are, are what I may call
types or specimens of all the " kingdoms," as
we used to say, of animal life. This room
alone would be an admirable museum for any
college. Beasts, birds, fishes, insects, every
thing which has animal life, all are repre
sented here. And all the large halls which
radiate from this hall are given to the sub
divisions which are here indexed, if I may
say so. Thus, here is a lion, and in the
room for beasts of the cat tribe, if that is
now their name, we shall find another lion ;
and yet again, in the hall for African beasts
we shall find another lion. But, for an all-
round view, we who are not specialists may
well begin with the index room here. In
deed, indeed, we shall want more than a half
hour. Divide your time as you please, unknown
friend whom I have been advising. I have

100 HISTORIC BOSTON.
been leading you as I should like to be led.
In that avenue on which the museum opens
you will like to look in on Divinity Hall, and
on the charming library and curious museum
adjoining it. Whatever else you leave out,
you must go into the separate Museum of
American Archaeology, fortunate if you find
Professor Putnam there, and if he can give
you even a few minutes ; and remember that
we have left one museum unexplored in the
college yard.
You have also left, unseen as yet, what is
left of the Sanders playground and the sol
diers' field ; and there is Longfellow's house,
and Lowell's, where is to be Elmwood Park ;
and Mount Auburn ; and, as I said, the ob
servatory; and, best of all, perhaps, the bo
tanical garden.
Then you would like to see the Riverside
printing house, and the old intrenchments in
the Hovey gardens, and everything else in
Cambridge ; but I am afraid that all this
means that you must buy one of the nice
Cambridge guides at the admirable bookshops.

HARVARD COLLEGE. 101
or wait, perhaps, till Mrs. Ingham and Miss
Ingham and I meet there again.
So we will turn around and be thank
ful that there is so much for another visit.
But no, dear Pauline, you shall not be dis
appointed. We wUl take our car higher up
on Garden Street, and here is the statue of
the first New England printer ; and here is
what papa promised you — the old elm be
neath which Washington's commission was
read, and where he took command of the
army. And to-night you shall sing every line of
"Father 'n' I went down to Camp." Here
was the camp. Some of the soldiers were in
old Massachusetts, which we saw just now.
As you ride in, Mr. Holworthy ought to be
able to show some of the earthworks. And
here is the dear old song which you shall
sing to-night to the tune of Yankee Doodle.
It was written by Edward Bangs :
Father and I went down to camp
Along with Captain Gooding,
And there we see the men and boys
As thick as hasty pudding.

102 HISTORIC BOSTON.
And there we see a thousand men
As rich as Squire David ;
And what they wasted every day,
I wish it could be saved.
The 'lasses they eat every day
AVould keep a house a winter ;
They have so much that, I'll be bound,
They eat it when they're a mind to.
And there we see a swamping gun,
Large as a log of maple,
Upon a deuced little cart,
A load for father's cattle.
And every time they shoot it ofE
It takes a horn of powder,
And makes a noise like father's gun,
Only a nation louder.
I went as nigh to one myself
As 'Siah's underpinning ;
And father went as nigh agin,
I thought the deuce was in him.
Cousin Simon grew so bold
I thought he would have cock'd it ;
It scar'd me so, I shrink'd it off
And hung by father's pocket.
And Captain Davis had a gun.
He kind of clapt his hand on't,
And stuck a crooked stabbing iron
Upon the little end on't.

HARVARD COLLEGE. 103
And there I see a pumpkin-shell
As big as mother's bason ;
And every time they touched it off
They scampered like the nation.
I see a little barrel, too.
The heads were made of leather.
They knock'd upon't with little clubs
And call'd the folks together.
And there was Captain Washington
Upon a slapping stallion,
A-giving orders to his men —
I guess there was a million.
And then the feathers on his hat,
They looked so tarnal fina,
I wanted pockily to get
To give to my Jemima.
And there they'd fife away like fun.
And play on cornstalk fiddles,
And some had ribbons red as blood
All wound about their middles.
The ti'oopers, too, would gallop up.
And fire right in our faces ;
It scar'd me almost half to death
To see them run such races.
Old Uncle Sam come there to change
Some pancakes and some onions
For 'lasses-cake, to carry home
To give his wife and young ones.
10

104 HISTORIC BOSTON.
But I can't tell you half I see.
They kept up such a smother ;
So I took my hat off, made a bow.
And scampered home to mother.

VI.
THE STATE HOUSE.
From Miss Polly Ingham to Dr. Hale.
Dear Dr. Hale : Please remember that
Mamma is occupied some days with her lunch
parties and committee meetings and things, so
that perhaps she can not go with us young
people at all. Can you not give us a list of
little sights that we could go to separately
without dragging poor mamma out with us ?
Always truly yours, Polly Ingham.
[Little Polly.]
My Dear Polly : You are very practi
cal and wise, as I observe you always are.
This list shall be of visits near at hand,
which you can make with your sisters or
your brother, or Miss Lovechild, -without any
chaperon. 105

106 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Recollect what I told you about the street
cars. I told you then how the first thing
Dr. Stanley did was to go to the cupola of
the State House. And the last thing he did
was to go there again and review all he had
learned. I advise you to go to the State House
first. If you hit the right day they -will let
you go up to the cupola. If there is any
difficulty you can ask for the sergeant-at-arms,
who is very nice and pleasant, and say that
you have come all the way from New Padua
and perhaps you can never come again. I
think he will let you go up.
But I do not think you will have to ask
for him. And for young people like you,
who have climbed the monument yonder, and
are one day going to the top of the cathe
dral at Milan, this is no hardship.
At the top — well, you can see " as far as
the eye will reach ! " That is true in most
places, but here it means — oh ! more than
fifty miles in many directions. Take this
panorama, with what you have seen from

THE STATE HOUSE. lOT
Bunker Hill, and you have a very good idea
of the "lay of the land " and the water.
Seaward you see what is called Massachu
setts Bay in your geographies. In the first
generation they gave the name of Massachu
setts Bay to the head of the bay, which lies
right before you — what we now call Boston
Harbor. And we distinguish between the outer
harbor and the inner harbor. Governor Win
throp called this inner harbor, which is close
to you. The Loch, but no one has called it
so since, except me. But it is, as you see,
landi-loched. Deer Island — there where you
see the great buildings — and Long Island —
there where you see a lighthouse — separate
it from the outer harbor. Yonder, far away,
is the white outer lighthouse, and beyond
that Massachusetts Bay — as we have the
phrase to-day — and the ocean.
Unfold that nice map, and fix it right by
Paul's compass, and you can find Charlestown,
and Cambridge, and Brighton, and Brookline,
and Dorchester, and the towns beyond. If

108 HISTORIC BOSTON.
you want to remember the order of the
names, Polly, recollect that Boston, where
you are, begins with B. Then go west, and
there is Brighton. Go south, and you come
to Brookline and Dorchester, in alphabetical
order observe. Go north and east, and you
come to Cambridge, Charlestown, and Chel
sea, still in alphabetical order. All of these,
except Cambridge, Chelsea, and Brookline,
are under the same government as Boston.
Cambridge and Chelsea are separate cities,
each with its own charter, mayor, and coun
cils. Brookline has what we call a town
government. Perhaps you will spend all the afternoon
here. But if it is foggy there is quite enough
to occupy you in the other parts of the State
House. The attendants there are all courte
ous, and they will show you what you ask
for. Be sure you see the new Representa
tives' Chamber, and, in the older part, the
old Senate Chamber and the new Senate
Chamber, and the Governor's Room.
Ask for the Library and the Archive

THE STATE HOUSE. I09
Chamber. As soon as they see that you are
intelligent girls and know what you want,
they will be very glad to answer any of your
questions. Try to think, before you go, what
you want to ask — perhaps about your great
grandfather's service when he was in the pri
vateer Yankee Lass, or ask them to show you
General Gates's letter in which he announces
Burgoyne's surrender. Or they will show
you some of Franklin's autographs when he
was our commissioner in London.
I remember tracing along from page to
page, on the great books in which the original
letters are preserved, the petition of a nice
person, evidently a prudent housekeeper, that
she might have back again the overcoat which
her husband wore on the day of the battle
of Bunker Hill. Poor soul, she seemed never
to have seen her husband again, and she had
never seen his overcoat ; and she had a feel
ing that the General Court ought to send the
overcoat back to her. But the matter fades
out of history, and I am afraid she never saw
it, and never received the money that it cost.

110 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Here is a vote of the 15th of June, two
days before the battle, foreshadowing the sei
zure of Dorchester Heights, which was carried
out so well the next spring by Washington
and Ward and Thomas. Why the English
commanders did not take possession of an
eminence so absolutely necessary, if their navy
was to remain in the harbor, nobody knows.
They had a very large army in Boston ; this
army was very badly cooped up there, and
Dorchester Heights would have been an ad
mirable camp for the whole summer and
autumn. But, for some reason, they neglected
to seize it, and left it for Washington to take
in March, when the building of the works
there was the signal for General William
Howe's retirement from Boston ;
" Whereas it appears of importance to the
Safety of this Colony that possession of the
Hill called Bunker's Hill in Charlestown be
securely kept and defended and also Some
one Hill or Hills on Dorchester Neck be like
wise Secured, therefore Resolved unanimously
that it be recommended to the Council of

THE STATE HOUSE. m
War, that the above mentioned Bunker Hill
be maintained by sufficient force being posted
there, and as the particular Situation of Dor
chester Neck is unknown to this Committee,
they advise that the Council of War take and
pursue such steps respecting the same as to
them shall appear to be for the Security of
this Colony."
Here is the draft of an early circular letter
to the different colonies :
" On the same day the town of Charles
town consisting of near five hundred houses
and other buildings was by those bloody in
cendiaries set on fire and consumed to ashes,
we cannot however but assure you, gentlemen
that notwithstanding our present distressed
situation, we feel a peculiar satisfaction in
finding our patriotic brethren of the city and
county of Albany so cordially interesting
themselves in our particular welfare and so
kindly offering us their assistance as well as
manifesting their zeal for the rights and lib
erties of America in general. It is our ardent
desire to cultivate harmony and friendship

112 HISTORIC BOSTON.
with all our neighboring brethren and we
hope you will not fail to continue your fa
vors and we assure you that we shall always
take pleasure in conveying to you any intelli
gence that shall afford satisfaction. As to
the benevolent donations you mention which
are collected for our distressed brethren, as
the transporting the article you make men
tion of is almost impossible, think it had bet
ter be exchanged for cash or some necessary
specie which may be more easily transported.
We are sorry to hear there is any prospects
of an attack upon Tyconderoga, &c., but we
trust those important fortresses are sufficient
ly garrisoned and doubt not but our brave
countrymen stationed there will be able to
repulse any force which can be sent against
them from Canada. Finally, brethren we ar
dently pray that the Great Supreme being
who Governs all things may so Direct all our
military operations that they may Speedily
Issue in the full Restoration and Peaceable
Possession of the Natural and Constitutional
Rights and Liberties of every American."

/ci9 /.y .ffic^i Aoyu, Ql^ii 4JU^v cc^dx^<y» co:»/J,^^^J ^^/J
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Jearc-. Jf~d .aj^e-r -{Aey >f«'<' prat^iMJ a. p/ac.^ ^^r ^^t\r ^"'i
¦fip r..4s drxi cc.r,J^fisJi rf fcc-^^i., ^ c-^Is^ . Sof^f'r- ^^'^
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¦^o^y^ i^t^ASv- <-,= .rr,/oT-fi.. Ss-i..^j ^h^fix?^ 'vxH f c, ci^rM^ r-
The Compact in the Mayflower.
A page from the Bradford Manuscript.

THE STATE HOUSE. 113
Stop, as you go down, in the Secretary of
State's office and ask if you may see the
charters. They will show you the first char
ter which Winthrop brought over, and the
province charter which was granted by Will
iam III. Perhaps you can see the original
Bradford manuscript, which we have just
now recovered from London. It is the his
tory of the first settlement of Plymouth, as
dear old William Bradford — your ancestor,
Polly, on your mother's side, through the
Woodbridge line : — dear old William Brad
ford, I say, wrote it out in Plymouth or
Duxbury. All depends on weather. Very likely
you will have spent all the afternoon in the
State House. If so, we will put off the
other home walks to another day.
When, in 1746, the immense armada of
D'Anville crossed the water to destroy Bos
ton, Governor Shirley and the Boston people
were taken wholly by surprise. A little
fisherman ran in of a sudden to say that

114 HISTORIC BOSTON.
he had seen such a squadron as he never
saw before. Well he might, for it was, I
think, the largest fleet which ever sailed
from Europe to America up to this day.
What is interesting now is that, of the
preparations for war for the next six weeks,
you will read nothing in the Boston news
papers of that day, excepting the pathetic
words which say that the train bands of
the province followed to the grave the body
of the young and beautiful wife of Governor
Shirley. How happened it that the train bands of
the province were there ? Why, it was be
cause Shirley had ordered them to Boston to
meet the French, and they were encamped
on Boston Common — the largest body of
troops who were ever on Boston Common at
one time.
For the rest, no newspaper mentions the
blocking up of the harbor, no ncAvspaper
mentions the arrival of these train bands.
You would not know that for those weeks
Boston was in terror. But if you have time

THE STATE HOUSE. 115
to ask for the Council Records of 174(), you
will find here the whole story.
When the people of Boston were en
gaged, a few years ago, in preserving the Old
South Meeting House as a memorial of this
crisis, I sent to Mr. Henry W. Longfellow
the account given of it by Thomas Prince,
the minister of the Old South. Mr. Long
fellow was delighted -with Prince's account of
the Fast Day for which Shirley issued his
proclamation on the occasion, and wrote for
the Old South Association his Ballad of the
French Fleet, which in my judgment is the
best of his ballads. And this Polly may
read aloud to her mother this evening :
A BALLAD OP THE FRENCH FLEET.
October, 1746.
Mr. Thomas Prince, loquitur.
A fleet with flags arrayed
Sailed from the port of Brest,
And the Admiral's ship displayed
The signal : " Steer southwest."
For this Admiral d'Anville
Had sworn by cross and crown
To ravage with flre and steel
Our helpless Boston Town.

116 HISTORIC BOSTON.
There were rumors in the street,
In the houses there was fear
Of the coming of the fleet.
And the danger hovering near.
And while from mouth to mouth
Spread the tidings of dismay,
I stood in the Old South,
Saying humbly, " Let us pray.
" 0 Lord ! we would not advise ;
But if, in thy providence,
A tempest should arise
To drive the French fleet hence.
And scatter it far and wide,
Or sink it in the sea,
We should be satisfied.
And thine the glory be."
This was the prayer I made,
For my soul was all on flame ;
And even as I prayed
The answering tempest came.
It came with a mighty power,
Shaking the windows and walls,
And tolling the bell in the tower
As it tolls at funerals.
The lightning suddenly
Unsheathed its flaming sword,
And I cried, " Stand still and see
The salvation of the Lord ! "
The heavens were black with cloud,
The sea was white with hail,
And ever more fierce and loud
Blew the October gale.

THE STATE HOUSE. II7
The fleet it overtook.
And the broad sails in the van
Like the tents of Oushan shook.
Or the curtains of Midian.
Down on the reeling decks
Crashed the o'erwhelming seas ;
Ah, never were there wrecks
So pitiful as these !
Like a potter's vessel broke
The great ships of the line ;
They were carried away as a smoke,
Or sank like lead in the brine.
0 Lord ! before thy path
They vanished and ceased to be.
When thou didst walk in wrath
With thine horses through the sea !

11

VII.
ANOTHER DAY IX OLD BOSTON.
If there is time to read an old-fashioned
novel evenings or on rainy days, you might
ask at the hotel library for Lionel Lincoln,
by one Cooper, of whom you have heard, per
haps. Cooper saw what you see — oh, as far
back as the first twenty years of this century.
And the book will give you some idea of the
Boston of that day, as of the Revolutionary
days. Suppose we start from the State House
on another walk. Leave the Common this
time and go northward through Beacon Street.
Here is the Boston Athenaeum, and though
we have no time to go into the library, we
will just look into the entrance hall, where
is a cast of Houdon's Washington and some
good portraits. 118

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 119
Now walk on, turn a little to the right,
and go down hill. You pass the new and
old Congregational Houses. Now just here,
Paul, is where the schoolboys started on their
coast, as dear Mr. Robins told me the story.
"Lickety cut — clear the lalla — clear the
coast ! " — I dare say they shouted just as
they do now. That victory of theirs, with
General Haldimand, was the first -victory of
the Revolution. I tried to make the mayor
proclaim a holiday for the last week in every
January — a holiday in which every Boston
boy might coast down this street as far as
Washington Street.
Cross Tremont Street. On the right,
where Parker's Hotel is, was the schoolhouse
of those days. But it was on the left-hand
side — on the north side — when Benjamin
Franklin went to school there — the Franklin
of the whistle. Do not pass his statue,
which stands where he used to play "tag,"
without looking at it carefully. The Frank
lin is, on the whole, the best bronze statue in
Boston, though, if you want to, you may

120 HISTORIC BOSTON.
speak of Powers's Webster in the same day.
Remember what I told you, that Mr. Green
ough modelled the head in conformity with
his OAvn acute observation, that one side of
Franklin's face showed him as the good-
natured, shrewd humorist, as " Poor Richard,"
while the other side shows the grave philoso
pher and statesman. Observe the fur : fur,
Mr. Greenough tells me, was a printer's
badge. The other statue is by Ball. It rep
resents the first Mayor Quincy, the same who
was president of Harvard College. He was
the son of Josiah Quincy, of the Revolution,
and was the great-grandfather of Josiah
Quincy, who is the Mayor in 1898, when
these words are written.
Court Street was Queen Street in more
loyal times, named, I think, from Queen
Anne — perhaps from Queen Caroline, of the
Heart of Midlothian. When it crosses Wash
ington Street it becomes State Street. In
the loyal days it became King Street. But
in 1776 we changed all that. In that same
1776, for reasons well known to you, we

Eeading the Declaration of Independence.
(Old State House.)

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 121
took down the lion and the unicorn from
the State House, although you now see them
there again, " fighting for the crown," as in
the nursery song. We put them up a few
years ago as matter of history, and a stanch
Irish member of the council insisted, wittily
and wisely, I think, that history should also
be represented by our putting up the Ameri
can eagle over their heads. So you may see
a " happy family " of the three.
Let us cross over by this foot walk to
Court Square and Court Street.
Walk down State Street still, by the old
building, but do not leave the narrow side
walk. You see the scene of the Boston
massacre. At your left, at the comer of Ex
change Street, stood the file of English sol
diers — "lobster backs," as the mob called
them — whom the mob insulted. On your
right, on the north side of the street, the mob
hooted them and pelted them. The soldiers
fired, at Preston's order, and nine men were
killed. Above you, on the second story, is
the balcony from which Colonel Crafts or

122 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Mr. Greenleaf read the Declaration of Inde
pendence. Now go back a few steps and go upstairs
into the dear old State House itself, and see
the rooms where the Council and Assembly
sat in the old days. After the constitution
of the State was formed, the House of Repre
sentatives and Senate sat here. Here you
will have your fill of interesting curiosities
collected by the Bostonian Society. It was
in the Council Chamber that James Otis made
his famous speech on the " Writs of Assist
ance," of which John Adams says that "then
and there American independence was born."
Walk down State Street to Broad Street,
and take your right. Any policeman will
tell you how to walk along, on what is now
Commercial Street, till you come to the
bronze tablet, well designed, which tells
where the tea was thrown overboard. Do
not ask for T Wharf ; that is another sort
of T. Now you have seen the best two of the
Revolutionary buildings ; for I count the two

ANOTHER DAV IN OLD BOSTON. 123
State Houses as such, though the new State
House was not begun till the new nation had
become prosperous and had gone about its
business. I call it so because Sam Adams
laid the corner stone, because it contains the
old relics from Bennington and other battle
fields, and because the unprinted history of
the war is there.
Another Revolutionary building is the
Old South Meeting-House, which is the
" nursery of freedom," and another is Christ
Church, in Salem Street, the lantern church,
of which I have spoken.
The Italians now make the ruling popu
lation in the neighborhood of the lantern
church. They do not know much of history,
but they are equal to the emergency, and
they have created a myth of their own.
They see a crowd of people assemble on
the 19th of April to look at the church and
to hear the chime as it plays the national air.
And the story-tellers among them will tell
you that in the old days, long, long ago, the
people of Boston became very -wicked, and

124 HISTORIC BOSTON.
forgot God and heaven and hell and the an
gels and all saints. And so, one night, the
Virgin Mary descended from heaven and
hung a lantern on the steeple, that all men
and women might see and believe. From
that time to this, according to the legend, the
people of Boston have been the comparatively
decent people that they are now, with a cer
tain reverence for sacred things.
These things, therefore, the Italians -will
tell you. If you care to extend your walk
from Christ Church, you -will find the new
park where these little Italian children can
paddle in the dear old sea. If you have my
luck on my last walk there, you wiU hear
some North End children sing, " Oneryj Two-
ery," with a loyal refrain about the king and
queen which some sailor ancestor learned
nearly two hundred years ago. The king
and queen were William and Mary.
Later than sixty years ago, as you have
seen, the outer works of the English were
visible, where Blackstone and Franklin
Squares are now. The committee on public

Christ Church.

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 125
grounds might well renew them before an
other winter comes, and put one of the old
captured cannon on each of them.
And in Roxbury, on Fort Hill Avenue, is
a good reproduction of Knox's " upper fort,"
of which the most exaggerated accounts were
printed in Europe. In South Boston is In
dependence Square, where you may get an
idea of the fortifications which compelled the
English to evacuate the to-wn. Hostibus primo
fugatis is the motto on the medal which Con
gress then gave to Washington. This medal
is now in the cabinet of the Historical Society.
But you had better reserve the visit to Inde
pendence Square to another day.
A good experience would be to come into
town on Washington Street, as the army
came in triumph on the morning of March 17,
1776. We should thus reverse our ride of
the day we went to Lexington. The British
squadron had left, with the refugee Tories
and their families. Washington, with a large
force, marched in over the Neck. And from
that time that part of the street was named

126 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Washington Street. The name has since ab
sorbed all the old names of different parts of
the same highway — Orange Street, Newbury
Street, Marlboro Street — which recall so
many different passages of history.
Take any outward-bound car on Wash
ington Street, and ask to be dropped at the
old car stable. It is just at the point where,
as an old stone shows you, Boston once ended
and Roxbury began. Here it was that, when
Washington was President, he waited in a
cold northeaster while the Selectmen and
Governor Hancock settled some (luarrel of
etiquette. "Is there no other way into the
town?" said the President at last, and the
uneasy procession moved. But then and
there the people caught the "Washington
influenza," which has its place in history.
Take any open car that is bound north-
-ward. At Blackstone and Franklin Squares
you >vill pass the point where were the
advanced English works, spoken of on page
124. At Dover Street was a gate, with a
picket fence. Beach Street, when you come

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 127
to it, preserves the memory of the beach,
which is well remembered by that old gentle
man in front of you; very likely he has
" gone in swimming " there. Look up at the
right just as you come to Sage's trunk store
at the corner of Boylston Street, and you see,
in stone, the representation of the Liberty
Tree of the Revolution.
Farther on, you might get off at Milk
Street, walk a few steps back, then turn into
a queer dark alley, and see all that is left of
the Province House, which you know so well
from Hawthorne. The Old South itself, in
Milk Street, is one of the few historical build
ings spared. Opposite, in Milk Street, a tab
let will tell you where Franklin was born.
The legend is that he was put in a silk bag
before he was twelve hours old, and carried
across the street for Mr. Willard to christen
him. When Burgoyne was riding into Boston,
after his surrender. General Heath, the Amer
ican commander here, accompanied him.
"There is the Governor's house," said Bur-

128 HISTORIC BOSTON.
goyne, as they passed it. " Yes," said a rude
boy who jostled them, "and on the other
side is the riding school." For when Bur
goyne was in Boston before, the cavalry had
used the Old South for a school of horseman
ship. I believe you have been in the old meet
ing-house. The steeple is the same which
shook in the October gale of Mr. Longfel
low's ballad, when —
It tolled the bell in the tower
As it tolls for funerals.
Walk on ; let the cars go do-wn Milk
Street. At the corner of School Street you
see the Old Corner Bookstore, very little
changed since Longfellow and the Mutual
Admiration Society met there, and Fields
and Whipple and Warren Sawyer and that
young set met Holmes and Lowell and Par
sons and Hawthorne there. Go a little far
ther, and you come to the old State House
again. On the upper corner, on one side, was
General Knox's bookshop. Opposite was the

13

The Province House.

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 129
best inn in town in 1776. I think Howe
had his quarters there ; I know that Wash
ington took up his there, after his army en
tered. He took the landlady's little daughter on
his knee. " Well, little lady, you have seen
the English soldiers, and now you see the
Yankees — which do you like best ? "
Children are not good liars, and on Wash
ington's knee no one, I suppose, could teU a
lie. The child said truly that she liked the
redcoats best.
The general laughed. " Yes, indeed," he
said, "they have the best clothes. But it
takes the ragged boys to do the fighting."
This story the little girl's daughter told me
in 1857. And here, dear Polly, we must stop. But
perhaps you can find your way alone to
Copp's Hill, and poke about among the tombs
and graves there. Here Gage and Burgoyne
watched the fight at Bunker Hill, where
Howe, then Gage's subordinate, was leading
the right wing up to the rail fence. And

130 HISTORIC BOSTON.
here the well-informed janitor will tell you
his stories.
One must stop somewhere. I have given
you what you may take in six or seven days.
Some of the churches will be open on week
days. Among those of historical interest
are the First Church, where you -will see the
original broad covenant of the church embla
zoned on one of the windows; the Second
Church, where the Mathers preached, where
Emerson and Henry Ware have preached since
then ; the Third Church, on the corner of Cop
ley Square, which used to meet in the Old
South Meeting-House which you have visited.
King's Chapel was the first Episcopal church ;
Arlington Street Church was the first Presby
terian church.
The First Baptist Church, though not in
its old place, worships in the fine church at
the corner of Clarendon Street and Com
monwealth Avenue. Bartholdi, the famous
sculptor, executed the designs of the statues on
the tower of that church ; he told me himself
that the heads which you will see there are

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 131
portraits of distinguished citizens of Boston of
that time. If you buy the right photographs,
and magnify them with the right glasses,
you -will find Sumner and, I think. Garrison,
and probably Everett and Phillips. The first
Catholic church was in Milk Street ; the Cathe
dral is now nearly opposite Union Park, on
Washington Street, where water flowed in the
days when the good Cheverus really estab
lished the first Roman Catholic church.
When you visit Rome, if you see the Holy
Father, he will ask you how long you are
going to stay in Rome. If you say " seven
days," he will say, " You can see a great deal
of Rome in seven days." If you say " six
months," he will say, " You will be beginning
to be acquainted in six months." If you say
"two years," he will say, "Ah, when you
leave us you will say you know nothing about
us ! " I might say very much the same of
Boston. And as I want to encourage you, I
will intimate that in seven days you may see
a good deal of the dear old town.
If Pauline needs anything to read to-night

132 HISTORIC BOSTON.
she may read the ballad of the Old South,
which, in a way, sums up this history :
THE OLD SOUTH MEETING-HOUSE.
To hide the time-stains on our wall.
Let every tattered banner fall !
The Bourbon lilies, green and old.
That flaunted once, in burnished gold ;
The oriflamme of France that fell
That day when sun-burned Pepperell
His shotted salvos flred so well.
The Fleur de Lys trailed sulky do-tvn,
And Louisburg was George's town.
The Bourbon yields it, in despair.
To Saxon arm and Pilgrim prayer.
Hang there the Lion and the Tower,
The trophies of an earlier hour.
Pale emblems of Castilian pride.
That shrouded Winslow when he died
Beneath Jamaica's palm.
Hang there, and there, the dusty rags
Which once were jaunty battle-flags.
And, for a week, in triumph vain,
G ay flaunted over blue Champlain ;
Gayly had circled half the world,
Until they drooped, disgraced and furled
That day the Hampshire line
Stood to its arms at dress parade,
Beneath the Stars and Stripes arrayed,
And Massachusetts Pine,
To see the great atonement made
By " Eied'sel " and Burgoyne.

King's Chapel.

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 133
Eagles which Csesar's hand had fed,
Banners which Charlemagne had lod
A thousand years before,
A dozing empire meanly gave
To grace a court or serve a slave ;
Let Brunswick and the Landgrave wave
Their banners on our shore.
Brunswick and Hesse basely sold
Eagle and flag for George's gold ;
And in the storm of war,
In crash of battle, thick and dark,
Beneath the rifle-shot of Stark,
The war-worn staves, the crests of gold.
The 'scutcheons proud, the storied fold.
In surges of defeat were rolled ! —
So, even Eoman banners fall
To screen the time-stains on our wall !
Beneath the war-flags' faded fold
I see our sovereigns of old'
On magic canvas there.
The tired face of " baby Charles "
Looks sadly down from Pilgrim walls,
Half pride and half despair.
Doubtful to flatter or to strike.
To cozen or to dare.
His steel-clad charger he bestrides.
As if to smite the Ironsides,
When Eupert with his squadron rides ;
Yet, such his gloomy brow and eye.
Yon wonder if he will not try
Once more the magic of a lie
To lift him from his care.

134 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Hold still your truncheon ! If it moves.
The ire of Cromwell's rage it braves !
For the next picture shows
The grim Protector on his steed,
Eeady to pray, to strike, to lead, —
Dare all for England, which he saves,
New England, which he loves.
These are Vandyck's. 'Tis Kneller there
Has pictured a more peaceful pair :
There Orange gives his last command.
The Charter gives to Mather's hand ;
And, blooming there, the queenly she
Who takes, " now counsel, and now tea,"
Confounding Blenheim and Bohea,
Careless of war's alarm.
Yet, as of old, the virgin Queen,
When armed for victory, might press
The smoky flrelock of " Brown Bess,"
So Anna, in a fond caress,
Eests on a black " Queen's arm."
Beneath those forms another band.
Silent, but eloquent, shall stand.
There is no uttered voice nor speech
As still of liberty they teach ;
No language and no sound is heard,
Yet still the everlasting word
Goes forth to thrill the land.
Story and Greenough shall compel
The silent marble form to tell
The lesson that they told so well —
Lessons of Fate and Awe :

ANOTHER DAY IN OLD BOSTON. 135
Franklin still point the commonplace
Of Liberty and Law.
Adams shall look in Otis' face
Blazing with Freedom's soul,
And Molyneux see Hancock trace
The fatal word which frees a race.
There, in New England's well-earned place.
The head of Freedom's roll.

VIII.
THE ISLANDS AND THE FOETS.
Perhaps mamma will be afraid of being
upset in a boat and drowned. Perhaps she
•will be afraid that the boys and girls will be.
But if not — if mamma and papa are both
disposed to take a comfortable boat, with a
skillful skipper, at one of the boat landings —
I will tell you of a very pleasant excursion
which you may make, all of you, and you
shall come home safe, and you shall thank
me for giving you the hint.
I should say that as good a way to begin
as any, would be to take one of the street
cars which goes out to the eastern end of
South Boston. If you find you are in an
other South Boston car, transfer into some
thing which will take you to the Marine
Park at City Point. There let papa look
136

*xt^-S""-'<.i^

Squantum Head.

THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. 137
round and find a good skipper and a good
boat, and hire them for the afternoon. You
had better start pretty early. But do not let
any boy go and do this unless papa is pres
ent. I do not respect the judgment of Fred
Junior as much as I do that of his father.
When you are all on board the boat, tell
the skipper that you want to go down to
Squantum and see the bold point there
where, " they do say," an Indian squaw threw
herself into the sea. For my part, I do not
believe that there could have been so many
Sapphos who threw themselves into the sea
because the rocks were high, as popular tradi
tion supposes. But here is a bold fine bluff
of stone ; and here is a monument, because
this is the point where Captain Standish, and
perhaps Edward Winslow, landed in Septem
ber, 1621. And here they found some lob
sters, and they boiled the lobsters and ate
them. And afterward they found the women
who owned the lobster pots, and they paid
the women for the lobsters and they went
their way.

138 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Now this was the first expedition of
white men, or of any other men, who have
left any record that they even so much as
saw our dear Boston. The famous Cham-
plain, the Frenchman, came down here more
than ten years before ; but he did not put
down Boston on his map with any such pre
cision that it can be recognized. Captain
John Smith — the same who was saved by
Pocahontas and who cut off the heads of
three Turks — came up the bay a little after
Champlain. He said there were many is
lands here, as there are ; and he put down
Charles River, but he does not seem to have
landed in Boston. But in this September,
1621, which I told you about, the Pilgrim
Fathers at Plymouth, wishing that they
knew more of what they called the head of
the bay, sent up this shallop, as they called
it, with some people on board, of A-\hom the
military commander was Miles Standish.
And, although there is the least bit of a
quarrel about it, I think the other com
mander was Edward Winslow — yes, Mary,

THE ISLANDS AND THE PORTS. 139
he is the same who died afterward on his
way to Jamaica. The Spanish colors
Shrouded Winslow when he died, —
Beneath Jamaica's palm.
After they had had that feast of lobsters,
they sailed north and must have passed by
the whole front of Boston. But they do
not seem to have landed there ; they do not
say that they landed there. On the other
hand, we know that they did pass the whole
eastern front of Charlestown ; they must
have looked up and seen Bunker's Hill, but
they did not know it was to be called
Bunker's Hill, and they did not know there
was to be a battle there. They went on
and on, and at a point which perhaps the
boatman will know about, about two miles
north of the navy yard or somewhere in
that region, they landed. And this is the
first landing of white people which any
body knows anything about, on what is
now the territorial domain of Boston. And
perhaps this is not on the territorial do
main of Boston ; perhaps this is a little
13

140 HISTORIC BOSTON.
farther up, and is in the town of Somerville.
Anyway, they found here on poles the dead
body of Nanepashemet, a sachem who had
died not long before. And here also they
found some courageous Indian women, with
whom they had courteous interchange of
such things as the women had to sell, and as
they wanted to buy.
Alas, they have left very little account of
what they saw ! But here is an account
which Bradford, who sent them out, wrote
about an early expedition of his. I think we
may say that there is no earlier description of
Boston than is in the third, fourth, and fifth
lines of this poem :
0 Boston, though thou now art grown
To be a great and wealthy town,
Yet I have seen thee a void place.
Shrubs and bushes covering thy face ;
And house then in thee none were there.
Nor such as gold and silk did weare ;
No drunkenness were then in thee,
Nor such excesse as now we see.
We then drunk freely of thy spring
Without paying of anything ;
We lodged freely where we would.
All things were free and nothing sold.

THE ISLANDS AND THE PORTS. 141
And they that did thee flrst begin
Had hearts as free and as willing
Their poor friends for to entertaine,
And never looked at sordid gaine.
Some thou hast had whome I did know,
That spent theirselves to make thee grow,
And thy foundations they did lay
Which doe remaine unto this day.
When thou wast weak they did thee nurse.
Or else with thee it had been worse ;
They left not thee, but did defend
And succour thee until their end.
Thou now hast growne in wealth and store.
Do not forget that thou wast poore.
And lift not up thyself in pride.
From truth and justice turn not aside.
Eemember thou a Cotton had.
Which made the hearts of many glad ;
What he thee taught bear thou in thinde.
It's hard another such to finde.
A Winthrop once in thee was knowne.
Who unto thee was as a crowne.
Such ornaments are very rare,
Yet thou enjoyed this blessed pair.
But these are gone, their work is done.
Their day is past, set is their sun :
Yet faithful Wilson still remains.
And learned Norton doth take pains.
Live ye in peace. I could say more.
Oppress ye not the weake and poore.
The trade is all in your own hand.
Take heede ye doe not wrong the land.
Lest he that hath lift you on high,
Whenas the poore to him doe cry.

142 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Doe throw you downe from your high state,
And make you low and desolate.
Now, as you come home, if this boatman
whom I have recommended says there is
time, ask him to take you down, first to Gov
ernor's Island and then to Castle Island, and
you shall see the two fortified places which
for about two hundred years protected, or
tried to protect, our town of Boston from
foreign invasion.
You will see that Governor's Island is
not a large island, and if they will let you
land, you will be able to go in to see the
curious fortification which is now established
there. You can hardly see it from the sea ;
you might even think it was the roof of an
old barn. But in fact there is a strong fort
there, and the reason you do not see more is
that it is, so to speak, sunk in the ground
and protected from the shots of an enemy by
the very hill which once made a part of the
island. Such are the habits of modern en
gineers. This little island was originally called

Oa
D !>
O
<i o
,a
O
THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. 143
Conant's Island. I suppose it was named
from Richard Conant, who is one of the four
men who are generally spoken of as the first
four settlers of Massachusetts Bay. But I
do not know, and perhaps nobody else
knows. Very early it was given to our good
John Winthrop, who was the first Governor
of Massachusetts after the arrival of the set
tlers of 1630. He is the Governor Winthrop
who brought the charter over with him,
whom you will see represented at the head
of Court Street -with the charter in his
hand. And, if you make this trip after
the expedition to the State House, as per
haps you will, you -will like to remember
that the charter which he brought is the
oldest of the charters which you have seen
there. The General Court gave him the island,
and they called it " Governor's Island." He
did not think of a fort there then ; they
all thought it was going to be a sort of vine
yard. They did not know then how poor
the grapes were which grew here. So they

144 HISTORIC BOSTON. «
gave it, I think as a sort of a joke, to him
for forty shillings ; but he was to pay one
shilling rent on the 25th of March. It was
also agreed that he should plant a vineyard
and an orchard there. And it was agreed
that after his death the lease should be re
newed for twenty-one years to his heirs ; only
that the heirs should pay a fifth part of the
fruits which should be yearly raised out of
the same. I think this is their only grant of
land on such queer, old-fashioned conditions.
And the reason why I think so is that, after
a year or two, the lease was changed. I
think they had all been down the bay to
gether, Winthrop and the rest ; for they then
passed a vote that, " Whereas, the yearly rent
was the fifth part of all the fruits that shall
grow there, it is ordered, at the request of
John Winthrop, Esquire, that the rent of
said island shall be a hogshead of the best
wine that shall grow there, to be paid yearly
after his death, and nothing before." Then
afterward (I rather think they had been
down the harbor again to see it, and had

THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. 145
found that the wine was not likely to be
very good) they confirmed the grant on con
dition that the rent should be only two
bushels of apples every year — one bushel to
the Governor and another to the General
Court, "the same to be of the best apples
there growing."
All this seems a little as if it were fun ;
and accordingly we find, on another occasion,
that the Governor paid a bushel of apples to
the General Court, although it would seem
by the terms of the grant that they were
only to be paid after his death. On some
such terms as these the island was granted
to him, and it remained in the possession
of some representatives of his family until
the United States bought it, within the
present century, and established upon it a
fort, which is called Fort Winthrop to this
day. Land there, as I say, if you have time and
if they will let you ; but if there is not time
enough for both, go across to the landing at
Fort Independence. The fort which now

146 HISTORIC BOSTON.
has this name is established where the Castle
William of the last century was built, and
this castle was named after William III. Up
till that time the fortification here was gen
erally called " the Castle " and had no other
name. When the first settlers came to Boston
they took their chances against a foreign ene
my ; but they had not been there many years
when La Tour, a Frenchman, came to Boston
to solicit aid against his countrymen in Aca
dia. The arrival of his ship gave a great
alarm to the town, for so little attention had
been paid to defense that there was not a sol
dier on the island. In consequence of this
surprise the fort was rebuilt at the expense
of the six neighboring towns and garrisoned
principally from Dorchester. It still showed
the weakness or the economy of the colony.
It was made of wood, and in 1665 had not
more than six guns mounted.
It had been proposed at first to have a
" floating galley," as they called it, forty feet
long and twenty feet wide, and some of the

THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. 147
liberal people subscribed for that. But be
fore the summer was over they changed their
minds about this and the fort was built in
stead ; and this was the first of a series of
seven fortifications which were built at differ
ent crises here, of which the last is Fort
Independence, which you shall now see.
We peace people like to say that the forts
have done their duty without ever firing a
shot in anger. Once or t-wice there has been
a shot fired across the bows of some vessel
that was coming in, to make her show her
colors or account for herself in some way ;
but no enemy but Time has ever attacked
either of the different forts. And, last of
all, we went to Congress and asked Con
gress to give us back our whole island for
a playground for our children, and then Con
gress did so.
The island is called Castle Island, and al
ways has been called Castle Island. When
the nation was established the State of Massa
chusetts gave the island to the General Gov
ernment, and now the General Government

148 HISTORIC BOSTON.
has given back the use of the island to the
city of Boston for a part of its public-park
system. Perhaps all this about the boat and the
skipper and the sailing across the harbor may
prove imaginary. Perhaps the day is not
nice, or perhaps mamma has to attend a meet
ing of the Colonial Dames, so that only the
boys and girls can go. In that case you can
still see the fort and can walk about and can
look across and see Winthrop's island ; and,
I think, if you get on the highest point of all,
you can see far off the point at Squantum
where the lobsters were.
You will take some South Boston car, as I
have described before ; but, instead of asking
for a boat at City Point, ask one of the guides
to show you the pretty pier which goes across
the water to the island. It will please you to
see the number of little children running
about on the pier, and to see the little white
babies sitting on their mothers' knees and
taking the comfort of the sea air.

Fort Independence.

THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. 149
In 1665, as dear old Captain Richard
Davenport, who was the commander of the
Castle, was taking his afternoon nap on the
15th of July, he was struck dead by light
ning. His dog was killed at the gate. There
was only a wainscot partition between his
•room and the magaziae of powder. He was
an old man who had had to do with that inci
dent which I think you have read about, when,
thirty years before, Endicott had cut the
cross out of the king's colors. From that
time to his time it had been agreed that the
red cross should be shown in the flag at the
Castle, while it was not shown anywhere on
the mainland until the reign of Charles II.
Captain Richard Clap, who has given one of
the most quaint accounts of the early settle
ment left from that generation, was appointed
as Davenport's successor. In 1673 the whole
fort was burned down by accident and a stone
fort was then built in its place. After King
William came to the throne he sent over Colo
nel Romer, a celebrated engineer, to repair the
fort. Instead of repairing it, he demolished

150 HISTORIC BOSTON.
the old works and raised an entirely new for
tification. Of this new fort, Dummer, in his Defense
of New England Charters, page 17, gives a mi
nute description. He says : " At the entrance
of the harbor there is a strong, beautiful Cas
tle which is by far the finest specimen of
military architecture in British America. It
was built by Colonel Romer, a famous Ger
man engineer, at the country's expense, and
called Castle William. It is a quarre sur
rounded with a covered way and joined with
two lines of communication from the main
gate to a redoubt which is to prevent the
landing. It is well situated near the channel
to hinder ships from coming up to the town,
which must all come within pistol shot of
this battery. It is mounted with one hundred
pieces of cannon, several of which are placed
on a platform near high-water mark so as to
rake a ship fore and aft before she can bring
her broadsides to bear against the Castle, and
some of these cannon carry forty-two pound
ers. In peace there is an independent com-

THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. 151
pany of fifty or one hundred men, I am not
certain which, that constantly are on duty;
but in time of war five hundred able men are
exempted from all other military duty to at
tend the service of the Castle at an hour's
warning upon any signal given to the Castle
of the appearance of any ships and their num
ber. The Castle again warns the town, and,
if there be five ships or more in time of war,
an alarm is given to all the adjacent counties
by firing a beacon. The province has also a
galley or frigate well manned in time of \var
to guard the coast from privateers and to con
voy their home trade."
In 1740 the fort was again enlarged and
in a manner rebuilt, and the Castle, as it then
existed, is the place to which " Sam Adams's
regiments " were withdrawn by Colonel Dal
rymple after the Boston massacre.
And now all the island is a pretty park,
and boys may sail their shingle boats from
the shore, or, under certain restrictions, they
may go in and swim from the beach ; and you
can stay here till half an hour before sunset,
14

152 HISTORIC BOSTON.
when you may tell your boatman to bring
you back to South Boston point ; or, if you
did not come in the boat, you may take a
trolley car and for five cents each may go
home and tell your mother all that has hap
pened.

IX.
THE STEEETS.
It has been intimated, in preceding chap
ters of this book, that simply by walking in
the streets of Boston one gets a sniff of the
air of the history of past centuries. Some
thing, not primeval or prehistoric, but old-
fashioned or antiquarian, lingers even in the
lines of the streets, and it is often recalled in
their names. There are antiquaries in Boston
who would gladly recall the names of the
original days, for whom Boylston Street is
still Frog Lane. It is asking too much to
expect a return to these names from a Bos
ton like the Boston of to-day, of which a
majority of the inhabitants are from emi
grants who have come to this country since
the year 1840. But the strangers in Boston
who -will use this book may be glad to have
153

154 HISTORIC BOSTON.
a key to a few of the names of the streets
through which they will go. It will answer
their convenience best if these names are ar
ranged in alphabetical order.
Adams Street. — There are several Adams
Streets in Boston, and several Adams Places,
Squares, etc. All of them are named from
the first or second President Adams. John
Adams, the first President of that name,
though not born in Boston, lived in Boston
for a considerable part of his early life. His
house was very near the scene of the Bos
ton massacre ; the whole neighborhood is
changed so that it is difficult to " dilate with
the right emotion " when one visits the spot,
but it was in Brattle Square, a little below
where the church stood. A house in the pos
session of the family later occupied the same
site which the Adams House hotel occupies
to-day, and that name may be considered as a
historical name.
Albany Streei. — This long thoroughfare
was made at the time when the South Cove,
so called, Avas reclaimed from the ocean by

^,>IP 0-iv deT H out e
/A Watch. Hotife
Common

A Section of Bonner's Map of Boston, 1732.

THE STREETS. 155
the South Cove Company. It marks, there
fore, a perio<l of great enlargement in the
growth of Boston — ^in particular, the opening
of the Boston and Albany Railway to the
West. The principal streets named at that
time are Albany Street, Hudson Street, Har
rison Avenue, and Tyler Street — Harrison
and Tyler being the President and Vice-
President, whose accession to power marked
the first political triumph of the New Eng-
landers in national affairs for many years.
Alger Street.^ in South Boston, refers back
to Mr. Cyrus Alger, a public-spirited citizen
of the earlier part of this century.
Allston, one of the suburban villages
which is included in the present Boston, is
so named from Washington Allston, the most
distinguished American artist of his time.
Washington Allston lived, however, in Cam
bridge, not within the present precincts of
Boston proper, and his important historical
pictures were painted there.
Appleton Street is one of the streets upon
what was formerly called the Back Bay. It

156 HISTORIC BOSTON.
is named for the distinguished family of
Appletons, the different members of which
played an important part in the introduction
of manufactures into New England after its
foreign commerce began to decline.
Arlington St/reet. — The alphabetical names
of the broad streets on the Back Bay were
given by the commission which laid out that
district. For convenience of memory, the
first name is in three syllables, the second in
two, the third in three again, the fourth in
two, and so on till we come to Hereford
Street. The eight names are Arlington,
Berkeley, Clarendon, Dartmouth, Exeter,
Fairfield, Gloucester, and Hereford. The
name Independence Avenue should have
been given to Massachusetts Avenue, for the
purpose of maintaining the alphabet ; but
other counsels prevailed. All these names
were taken primarily from towns or places
of an English origin ; but, -without reference
to this, it may be said that Arlington Street
preserves the memory of the march of Percy
through West Cambridge, then Menotomy.

THE STREETS. 157
This place is now called Arlington, a town
almost as closely connected as Lexington
itself with our early history.
Berkeley retains the memory of Bishop
Berkeley, who wrote, " Westward the star of
empire takes its way."
Clarendon was named for the Clarendon
Press in Oxford.
Dartmouth Street was named in memory
of Dartmouth College and of the Earl of
Dartmouth, who was the only member of
the English Government of Lord North's
time who favored the colonists in the least.
Exeter Street was named from Exeter
Academy, where so many of the distin
guished men of New England have been edu
cated. Fairfield St/reet recalls the memory of
a distinguished governor of the State of
Maine. Gloucester Street, of the town of Glouces
ter, which makes Cape Ann and its Revolu
tionary associations.
Hereford Street preserves the memory of

158 HISTORIC BOSTON.
an English county from which many of the
first emigrants to this country came.
In their alphabetical places we will speak
of Marlborough Street, Newbury Street, and
of the avenues which pass from north to
south through the Back Bay. The reader
should understand that the whole region thus
designated was covered -with water in the
days of the Revolution, and until the year
1825. Amory Street preserves the name of the
large estate which was divided that this
street, with others in the neighborhood,
might be laid out.
Ander. son St/reet is a memorial of the Civil
War. At the time when Major Anderson
was the hero of the moment because he had
defended Fort Sumter, the name of this
street, in a part of the town especially given
up to the colored race, was changed in his
honor. Ashland Street recalls the memory of the
days when Henry Clay, who lived at Ash
land, was a candidate for the Presidency.

THE STREETS. 15;)
Atlantic Avenue in its name shows that
it is one of the streets reclaimed from the
Atlantic Ocean.
Austin Street, in Charlestown, recalls the
name of a distinguished citizen of the town
in the earlier part of this century.
A Street, B Street, C Street, etc., go back
to the time when the region then called
Dorchester Neck was annexed to Boston, and
first called South Boston. It is on this
"neck," so-called, that the fortifications were
erected by which Washington and his great
subordinate. Ward, drove the English from
the town — the last foreign soldiers who ever
came to Massachusetts with warlike purpose.
This neck was laid out with the natural
hope that it might become an important, not
to say fashionable, part of the town. It ex
tends into the ocean, and as a summer resi
dence is more agreeable than even the best
parts of the old peninsula of Boston. It
was laid out somewhat in the fashion of the
city of Washington, \vith cross-streets like
those in Washington, named A, B, C, D, etc.,

160 HISTORIC BOSTON.
with a Broadway in the middle, which sought
to recall memories of Ne\v York, while the
parallel streets were First, Second, Third,
Fourth, and so on. Historically, the whole
nomenclature of South Boston recalls those
earlier days of the laying out of new cities
and dignifying the streets by systematic
names. Barton St/reet recalls the memory of Bar
ton's Point, at the extreme northwest of
Boston, so named probably from some early
shipbuilder. Battery Street recalls the memory of
fortifications which belonged to colonial
times. Beach Street, where one may look vainly
for water on either side, was at one time the
beach on the northern part of the South
Cove. This writer has sailed his o\vn hem
lock-bark boats there.
Beacon Street I'ecalls the name of the
beacon which, from 1636, or perhaps earlier,
stood on Beacon Hill, until, not long after the
erection of the State House, it was taken

THE STREETS. 161
away. It has been suggested that this
beacon shall be erected aa-ain on the new
park which the traveler will find between
Bowdoin Street, Derne Street, and Mount
Vernon Street.
The streets in East Boston were laid out
and named between 1830 and 1840. They
generally take patriotic names, of which
Bennington is the first.
The streets at the North End, where they
have taken names in more recent times, are
generally named from the important towns in
Essex and Middlesex Counties, the inhabi
tants of which come through that part of the
town to the city. Such are Beverly Street
and Lowell Street.
In the earlier part of the century the be
ginning was made of filling up the " Mill
pond," by the side of Avhich Benjamin Frank
lin played ; and in 1834 this work Avas car
ried on to the north of the causeway -which
separated that mill pond from the northern
shore. Causeway Street retains its name, and
shows almost exactly the line of the old

162 HISTORIC BOSTON.
causeway which kept the water at the level
of high tide in the mill pond.
Blackstone Street, which is one of the new
streets opening on Haymarket Square, is
named from William Blackstone or Blaxton,
the first inhabitant of Boston of any race
vhose history is recorded. Canal Street and
Creek Square, in this region, give tokens of
early nomenclature.
After the Revolution, one of the first
tokens of the enlargement of the town was
the laying out of some fine streets which ran
westward do-wn Beacon Hill. These streets
took their names from revolutionary associa
tions, and in some instances they suggest the
names of properties held by those who bore
them. Such are Hancock Street, Bowdoin
Street, Temple Street, named for John Han
cock, James Bowdoin, and William Temple.
Belknap Street was named for Jeremy Bel
knap, the minister of the church in Federal
Street, the founder of the Historical Society,
a person who had always taken great interest
in the history of the colonies. The name of

THE STREETS. 163
this street, however, has since been changed
to Joy Street. Cambridge Street, into which
all these streets open, took its name as early
as 1708. Boylston Sto^eet, as has been said, is the
street formerly known as Frog Lane. It was
named Boylston in honor of the Boylston
family, who won their first distinction from
the spirit with which Dr. Zabdiel Boylston
insisted on inoculation for the small-pox. This
was at the time when the mob of Boston
broke his windows, and would gladly have
killed him for his enthusiasm in that direc
tion. Bunker Hill Street, in Charlestown, takes
the name of the battle ground.
Canton Street is the first, alphabetically,
of a group of streets with geographical
names, laid out when the enlargement of the
town southward made it desirable that the
open lands on or near what was called " the
Neck " should be occupied for residences.
This neck must not be confounded with
Dorchester Neck. It -will be convenient to

164 HISTORIC BOSTON.
strangers from other parts of Massachusetts
to recollect that these streets are neaily,
though not quite, in order of the distances
from Boston of the towns whose names they
bear. The streets thus named are Dedham
Street, Canton Street, Brookline Street, New
ton Street, Rutland Street, Concord Street,
Worcester Street, Springfield Street, Chester
Square. These names were all suggested by
the fact that Northampton Street next crosses
Washington Street ; this had been named
long before. Rutland Street and Brookline
Street break the geographical order, which is
a misfortune. It was once suggested that the
name of Brookline Street should be changed
to Lexington Street, so that it might lead up
properly to Concord Street, but this has never
been done.
Charming Street recalls the memory of
Federal Street Church, in the immediate
neighborhood, where Dr. William EUery
Channing preached for many years.
The Common was so called as early as
1634, when it was bought from William

Commonwealth Avenue.

THE STREETS. 165
Blackstone, who left Boston at that time.
It was bought for a common, from the prod
ucts of an assessment of two shillings laid
on each inhabitant of the town. All those
inhabitants had the right to pasture their
cows there, a right which they maintained
till within the memory of people now living.
It is perhaps a question whether the descend
ants of one of these people might not now
successfully claim his right to pasture his
beast there. From the Common came the
name of Common Street, which was formerly
given to all of Tremont Street from Park
Street Church. The name still lingers in a
short street running from Tremont Street to
Washington Street.
Commonwealth Avenue was very properly
named when the Commonwealth of Massa
chusetts reclaimed the deeper waters of the
Back Bay, and made land there. It is the
central artery of the circulation of the streets
then laid out. The names Newbury Street
and Marlborough Street formerly belonged to
the great central street of Boston ; but as

166 HISTORIC BOSTON.
those names had been given up in order that
the great name of Washington might be
given to the whole of that street, Newbury
Street, which is a memorial of old Puritan
enthusiasm, and Marlborough Street, which
recalls the times of Queen Anne's victories,
have been transferred to the streets parallel
with Commonwealth Avenue.
Between this region, which marks the
line of daily low-water mark, and the old
upland which belonged to the city, and is
commonly called in local parlance the South
End, there was a gore over which the tide
flowed twice a day, and where the titles
were, therefore, different from those of the
city or of the State, This gore was laid
out by a separate company of street makers,
who gave the names of Columbus Avenue and
Huntington Avenue to the streets running
north and south, and have taken names com
paratively modern for their cross - streets.
Such is the name Garrison, a name which
would not have been given to any street in
Boston sixty years ago.

THE STREETS. 1(J7
Derne Street commemorates a victory
everywhere else forgotten, of which the story
is known to the reader. The street is now
the western boundary of the magnificent
State House, and it makes an interesting
memorial of a forgotten victory.
Dudley Street, in Roxbury, preserves the
memory of the second governor of Massa
chusetts. Edivard Everett Square, in Dorchester,
preserves the memory of the house, still
standing, in which Edward Everett was born.
Faneuil Hall was named from Peter
Faneuil, a spirited young merchant who gave
the hall to the town of Boston. Faneuil
Hall Square takes its name from the hall.
Federal Street was formerly Long Lane.
When the convention of the State of Massa
chusetts met, in the year 1787, to consider
the question whether the State would or
would not adopt the Federal Constitution,
the first meeting; was held in the old State
House, which is still standing at the head of
State Street. The rooms proved not large

168 HISTORIC BOSTON.
enough for the purposes of the convention,
and they adjourned to meet in what had
been " Johnny Muirhead's " meeting - house
in Long Lane, not far distant. It is to this
incident that the old ballad quoted in Chap
ter IV refers.
Salem and Essex County were loyal sup
porters of the Constitution and of the Fed
eral party. They gave the name Federal
Street to one of the important streets in the
city of Salem. In that street also there is
a Federal Street Church, and the tune of
" Federal Street," now well known, was writ
ten by the late General Oliver, who was the
chorister of that church, while the minister
was preaching one Sunday afternoon.
Fleet Street. — This is one of the streets
which take their names from fond recollec
tions of London. The trade with England,
for more than a century, was very largely
directly with the city of London ; and Fleet
Street took its name from Fleet Street or
Fleet Ditch in London. So close was the
relationship between the North End of Bos-

THE STREETS. 169
ton and London that, until within the mem
ory of the present generation, its cockney-
isms could be observed in the pronunciation
of the North End. A genuine North Ender
said weal and winegar, where in another pai"t
of the city people would say veal and vine
gar. The population of the North End has
since twice changed. Once it was over
whelmed by an Irish emigration ; then, about
twenty years ago, this began to give way at
the appearance of a few Italian organ-grind
ers. The Italians, the Russian Jews, and
the German Jews now occupy nearly every
house in the territory which was formerly
the court end of Boston. An examination of
pupils for the Hancock School in the autumn
of 1896 showed that, of three hundred and
six girls admitted from that neighborhood,
all were from the Continent of Europe with
the exception of a few Arabs. There was
not one girl from England, Scotland, Wales,
or Ireland, or from any part of the American
States. This means that literally the instruc-

170 HISTORIC BOSTON.
tion must begin with teaching these children
the English language. There are a few other
relics of London names. Cornhill is one,
which is now given to what was formerly
called New Cornhill, the name of Cornhill
"having been originally given to the part of
Washington Street where the newspaper
oflices now are, between the old State House
and the Old South Meeting-House. Long-
acre Street, which had another London name,
was the part of Tremont Street -s-^ hich passes
in front of the Granary Burial Ground. In
memory again of England, the walks around
the Common are still called Malls by the
old-fashioned people. The first of these
malls was laid out in the last century, and
ran from what is now Park Street Church
southward. It is described in 1790 thus:
" It is on the eastern side of the Common, in
length fourteen hundred and ten feet, di
vided into walks parallel to each other, sepa
rated by a row of trees. On the outside of
each walk is also a row of trees, which agree
ably shade them." At the present time the

THE STREETS. 171
Subway runs under this Mall. Coming into
this century, this Mall -\vas generally called
the Little Mall, while the other malls took
the name Park Street Mall, Beacon Street
Mall, and Charles Street Mall.
Franklin Street commemorates the name
of Benjamin Franklin. But his birthplace
was in the first street north of Franklin
Street, the Milk Street of to-day. It has
been so named certainly as far back as 1808.
This street also probably had its name from
Milk Street in London.
Front Street was so called from its mark
ing the front of the town, and its eastern
side was washed by the water, or was given
up to wharves for wood and other matters
brought by the coasting vessels. Front Street
took the name of Harrison Avenue in 1840,
when the South Cove streets were named.
The Granary. — Old people still speak
of the burial ground between Park Street
Church and Beacon Street as the Granary
Burial Ground. The town maintained a
granary opposite the Common, where Park

172 HISTORIC BOSTON.
Street Church now is — a common wooden
building, which could contain four thousand
bushels of gi'ain. This property was sold to
the religious society which established Park
Street Church in 1811.
Hamilton Place, nearly opposite, took its
name from Alexander Hamilton, about the
year 1806. In the local history of the eight
eenth century and the beginning of the nine
teenth, a great deal is read of the Manufactory
House. This stood at the head of Hamilton
Place. It was built as a socialistic experiment,
in which philanthropic people united with
the government of the town and sometimes
of the State, in the effort to provide employ
ment for those not employed in hard times.
It was a handsome brick building, built from
the proceeds of a special excise levied by the
General Court on carriages and other articles
of luxury. It was at first given to the linen
manufacture. The women of the town, rich
and poor, appeared on the Common with
their spinning wheels, and vied with each
other in the dexterity of using them. The

THE STREETS. 173
enterprise went forward for three or four
years. The trustees and company annually
attended public worship, a sermon was deliv.
ered suited to the occasion, and a contribu
tion made to aid the business. But the en
terprise succeeded no better than similar en
terprises of 1848 in Paris. Several spinning
schools were established at the same time in
different parts of the town. The best success
of the Manufactory House seems to have been
between 1721 and 1725.
Nassau Street is not the original Nassau
Street, which was a short street, now known
as Common Street. It took this name as
early as 1788, apparently with some reference
to the foreign politics of the time.
Orange St/reet. — As early as 1708, clearly
from the political conditions of the time, the
old Middle Street was changed to Hanover
Street, and the highway from the Neck,
leading as far as the late Deacon Eliot's
house, was called Orange Street, in honor of
the Prince of Orange. This became Wash
ington Street when that name gradually

174 HISTORIC BOSTON.
usurped all other names of the main street
of Boston. The Pound. — In early days the pound
for stray cattle fronted the Common, being
probably, indeed, originally a part of it. It
stood where Houghton & Mifflin's bookstore
now is on Park Street.
Pudding Lane was another London name.
It is the Devonshire Street of to-day.
Queen Street became Court Street in 1784.
King Street became State Street at the same
time, after kings and queens had been abol
ished. Pawsoti's Lane was the Bromfield Street
of to-day. It was named for the provincial
secretary, Edward Rawson.
Salem. Street received its name as early as
1708. It is one of those streets which are
named from the region Avhich is approached
by them. Any traveler to Essex County
would have been apt to pass through Salem
Street to take the ferry at the north end
of it. Salutation Alley happily still retains that

THE STREETS. 175
quaint name. It came from the Salutation
Tavern, which had a sign of much elegance,
representing two gentlemen in the height of
fashion, with small clothes and cocked hats,
shaking hands. The name is as early as the
early part of the eighteenth century. For
tunately, nobody has proposed to change it to
any modern name like Fremont or Edison.
The whipping post stood in what is
now State Street, near the corner of Devon
shire Street. It was removed about 1750.
Culprits were whipped near the same spot,
on the top of a cage in which they were con
veyed from the jail. Public whippings were
discontinued about the year 1800.
Sudbury St/reet, named, as I suppose, from
the town of Sudbury, in Middlesex County,
was nicknamed Tattle Street a hundred
years ago.
Tileston Street, at the North End, recalls
the memory of John Tileston, who was a
famous schoolmaster at the .corner of this
street and North Bennet Street. The Eliot
School, named for Dr. Andrew Eliot, the

176 HISTORIC BOSTON.
minister of this region in the Revolution,
stands on the site of Tileston's schoolhouse.
Before 1800 the street was known as Love
Lane. Young people must not think that
this name was purely sentimental ; it was de- ;
rived from the name of Mrs. Susanna Love,/
who owned the estate on which the Eliot'
School stands.
The name Tremont Street is comparatively
new. It is derived from the word Tri-
mountain, which was sometimes called Tri
mount and sometimes Tremont in the early
history of the town. I say comparatively
new, but as early as 1732 it was given to the
part of the street which ran from Hanover
Street to where Houghton & Dutton's large
store is now. The " Orange Tree Inn " was
then at the head of Hanover Street.
" West Hill J'' which is spoken of in the
earlier books, was at the foot of Beacon Hill,
near the water, a little north of Beacon Street.
The hill has been so reduced that Charles
Street, which runs over the ground, is now
nearly level.

Park Street Mall, Boston Common.

THE STREETS. 177
Winnisimet Ferry, which was probably
originally Winnissipit Ferry, is the ferry to
Chelsea, which was then called Winnisimet.
Winnissipit would mean " the place of fine
streams," and seems a proper name for the
junction of the Mystic and the Charles Rivers.

Of the various ante-revolutionary govern
ors there are many memorials in Boston. It
would perhaps be dangerous to imply that
the popular governors have been remembered
and the unpopular ones forgotten. Winthrop,
the first governor after the great emigration,
is commemorated by a statue at the head of
Court Street and by the names of several
squares, places, and streets. Dudley, the sec
ond governor, has no statue, but is commem
orated by Dudley Street in Roxbury, and by
an avenue, a place, and a square. Haynes,
the third governor, has a street and a park
named for him. Of Henry Vane there is a
statue in the public library ; this was studied
from a good original portrait of Vane. Bel-
16

178 HISTORIC BOSTON.
lingham is commemorated by Bellingham
Place. Endicott, who would seem to deserve
a statue, has his name preserved in Endicott
Street at the North End. This street was
formerly called The Old Way.
LeveretCs name was early given to Lever-
ett Street. Governor Leverett's house stood
where the great Ames Building is now, at
the foot of Court Street; and it would be
well if a bronze tablet there reminded the
passers-by of a loyal man and good magis
trate. There is a Bradst/reet Aven/ue in Dor
chester. Phipps Place, at the North End,
leading out from Charter Street, preserves
the name of the picturesque New England
skipper who, while he was governor, knocked
down with his own fist the captain of one of
the king's vessels. Of Richard, Earl of Bello-
mont, of Samuel Shute, and of Richard Bu/r-
net, all royal governors of the pro-vince, there
are no such memorials. Bellomont is be
lieved to have lived in the Province House,
where he was probably better lodged than
ever before in his life. Belcher, if there

THE STREETS. 179
were anything to remember about him,
might be meditated on by any one -who
crosses from Atlantic Avenue to High Street
through Belcher Lane.
Of all the " royal governors," as we call
them, the most distinguished was WiUiam
Shvrley. It was under him that Louisburg
was taken ; it was with him that Washing
ton conferred after Braddock's defeat. He
was, indeed, a great war governor. His
house, which was an elegant monument of
his time, was on Dudley Street in Roxbury ;
there is scarcely anything left of it now
which will interest the antiquarian. Shir
ley's life has never been properly -written,
and his papers, if they exist, are hidden some
where where the historian has no access to
them. His name is preserved in a street, not
inconsiderable, in the neighborhood of his
old house in Roxbury.
Pownall, who was the only royal gov
ernor who was really interested in the devel
opment of the province, has no memorial which
is known to me. Hutchinson, who was re-

180 HISTORIC BOSTON.
garded as a traitor by all the patriots of
revolutionary times, deserves rather to be
considered as a sort of Hamlet, a man not
equal to his position :
The world is out of joint, 0 cursed spite.
That ever I was born to set it right !
His house was riddled by the mob, but stood
until the year 1834. There is a Hutchinson
Street in Dorchester.
No place has preserved the memory of
General Gage or of Sir William Howe, who
were the last royal governors of Massachu
setts ; and none will.
There is a Tudor Street In Dorchester.
The determined antiquarian may reflect here
that if the Cabots ever saw Boston they saw
it when they were floating the flag of a
Tudor sovereign. There is no memorial of
the house of Stuart in Boston except the
insignificant Stuart Street, which \\ould be
named Cromwell Street but that it is too
insignificant. There were once portraits of
Charles II and James II in the old State

THE STREETS. 181
House, but General Howe took them to Hali
fax, and there they appear to have been lost.
They are perhaps at this moment moulder
ing in the attic of some Halifax warehouse.
The house of Hanover is still remembered in
Planover Street, and the house of Brunswick
in the Brunswick Hotel.

INDEX.

Abercrombie, Major, story of,
32.
Adams, John, memorials of,
154.
Adams, Samuel, 37, 39.
Agassiz Museum, 96.
Archaeology, Museum of, 99.
Archive chamber in State
House, 109.
Arlington, town of, 30, 156.
Athenaaum, Boston, 118.
Back Bay, 9.
Beach Street, 60, 136, 160.
Beacon, the, 11.
Beacon Hill, 37.
Beacon Street, 10, 11, 63, 160.
Bennington, memorials of bat
tle of, 73.
Blackstone, William, 33, 165.
Blue Hills, 47.
Boston, extent of, 3 ; early de
scriptions of, 4 ; settlement
of, 33 ; how to find one's
way in, 54 ; streets of, 58-73,
153-180 ; general view of,
107 ; memorials of old, 118-
129.

Boston massacre, scene ol, 131.
Boston Neck, 163.
Bostonian Society, collections
of, 133.
Bowdoin, James, 63, 162.
Bradford, William, verses on
Boston, 140; the Bradford
manuscript, 113.
Brattle Street meeting-house,
13.
Bridges, 15, 31.
British grenadiers, ballad of,
65.
Brookline, 108.
Bunker Hill, 30-37; battle of.
110, 129 ; ballad of, 33.
Burgoyne, General, story of,
137 ;" his play, 64.
Cambridge, 18, 78-101.
Canal, the, 8, 163.
Canton, memorials of Eliot, of,
43.
Castle Island, 29, 142.
" Castle William," 146.
Cathedral, the, 131.
Causeway, the, 8, 161.
Champlain, his voyage, 138.
183

184

HISTORIC BOSTON.

Charlesgate Eens, 9.
Charlestown, 4, 81.
Charters of Massachusetts, 113.
Chelsea, 108.
Christ Church, 133.
Churches, historic, 130.
City Point, 136.
Coasting victory, the, 31, 73,
119.
Common, the, 10, 15, 75, 164.
Commonwealth Avenue, 1G5.
Concord, route to, 15.
Constitution, Federal, adopted
by Massachusetts, 61.
" Constitution,'' frigate, 61.
Copp's Hill, 35, 139.
Cornhill, 170.
Cromwell, memorials of, 59,

D'Anville, story of, 113.
Deer Island, 107.
Dorchester Heights, 64.
Dudley, Thomas, memorials of,
41, 177
East Boston, 161.
East Cambridge, 14.
Eliot, John, 88 ; memorials of,
43, 46, 48, 50 ; grave of, 56.
Elm on Boston Common, 55,
56.
Embankments, artificial, 7.
Emerson, his poem on Boston,
75 ; his room in college, 84 ;
his prize essays, 89.
Endicott, Governor, 177.

Faneuil Hall, 167

" Father and I went down to
camp," 66, 101.
Federal Street, 60, 167
Ferries, 83, 177
Fogg Museum, Cambridge, 93.
Port Hill, 13.
Fort Independence, 13, 29, 145.
Fort Winthrop, 145.
Fortifications, remains of old,
12, 18, 41, 56, 58, 63, 135;
modern, 143-151.
Franklin, Benjamin, auto
graphs of, 109; statue of,
119 : birthplace of, 137 .
French fleet, ballad of the, 115.
" Prog Lane," 168.
Gage, General, 11, 63.
Geological formation of Bos
ton, 4.
Glass flowers at Cambridge,
96.
Gore Hall, Cambridge, 30, 88.
Governor's Island, 143, 144.
Granary, the, 171.
Haldimand, General, 74.
Halifax, flight of Tories to, 66.
Hancock, John, 37 163.
Hanover Street, 58, 17.3.
Harbor, inner and outer, 107 ;
excursion in, 186.
Hart's shipyard, 61.
Harvard College, 78-101.
Heath, General, 19.
Hills of Boston, 13, 35, 56, 139.
Hog Island, 58.
Howe, General, 23, 31, 33, 64.
Hntehinson, Governor Thomas,
180.

INDEX.

185

Indian language, 44.
Indians, life of, 53.
Islands in harbor, 58, 136.
Jamaica Plain, the name, 44;
memorials of Eliot at, 43.
Johnson, Edward, his descrip
tion of Boston, 5.
Josselyn, John, quoted, 6.
Kearsarge, the name, 43.
King and Queen Streets, 130.
King's Chapel, 180.
Kirkland, President, 85.
Lafayette Tavern, 19.
Latin School, Boston, 13, 119 ;
Roxbury, 41.
Leverett, memorials of, 178.
Lexington, 33 ; battle of, 14-22.
Liberty Tree, 137.
Long Island, 107.
" Long Lane," 50.
London names in Boston, 168,
170.
Malls, the, 170.
Manufactory House, 173.
Marine Park, 136.
Massachusetts, meaning of
name, 47.
Massachusetts Bay, 107.
Mattapan, 45.
Memorial Hall, Cambridge,
92.
Memorial tablets, 21.
Menotomy, 20, 21, 156.
Millpond, the, 8, 161.
Mississippi, discovery of, 45.

Natick, 48; Indian settlement
at, 50.
Neck, the, 2, 17
New England Chevy Chase,
ballad of, 24.
Nonantum, memorials of Eliot
at, 48.
North End, population of, 169.
North End Park, 61.
Old Corner Bookstore, 128.
Old South Meeting-house, 138.
Old South, ballad of the, 132.
Old State House, 121.
Otis, James, 65, 123.
Parks in Boston, 9, 61, 186.
Parting-stone, 18.
Peabody Museum, 99.
Percy, Lord, 15, 23.
" Phipps's Farm," 14.
Phipps, Sir William, 178.
Pitcairn, Major, 17, 81.
Ponkapog, 46, 48.
Pound, the, 174.
Province House, 75, 127.
Public Garden, 10.
" Pudding Lane," 174.
Quakers, hanging of, 56.
Quincy, Josiah, 10, 96, 120.
Railway construction, 10.
Refugees from Boston, 66.
Revere, Paul, 82.
Roxbury, First Church of, 40.
Salem Street, 174.
Salutation Alley, 174.

186

HISTORIC BOSTON.

School Street, 16, 73.
School boys and General Hal
dimand, story of, 73.
Shawmut, peninsula of, 33, 44.
Shirley, Governor William,
113, 179.
Smith, Captain John, 138.
South Boston, fortifications at,
58 ; streets of, 159.
South Cove, 10.
Spinning on the Common, 172.
Squantum Head, 137.
Standish visits Boston, 138.
Stanley, Dean, in Boston, 54.
State House, 55, 105.
Streets, arrangement of, 7 ; his
tory in names of, 58-63, 158-
180.
Tea-party, Boston, 69, 122.
Tide-mills, 9.
Tremont Street, 16, 176.
Trimountain, 176.
Trolley guides, 44.

Vane, Sir Henry, 177.
Waban, story of, 46, 49.
Ward, General Artemas, 41.
Washington, General, his visit
to Boston, 126; statue of,
118 ; story of, 139.
Washington Elm at Cam
bridge, 101.
Washington Street, 11, 136.
Webster, statue of, 130.
Whipping-post, the, 175.
Williams, Roger, verses of, 53.
Winnisimet, 45, 177.
Winthrop, John, 143 ; memo
rials of, 177
Wishing Stone, 56.
Wood, William, his descrip
tion of Boston, 4.
Worcester Railroad, building
of, 10.
Yankee Doodle and Chevy
Chase, story of, 18.

(1)

THE END.

By JOHN BACH McMASTER, Ph.D,

History of the People of the United States,
From the Revolution to the Civil War. By John Bach
McMaster. To be completed in seven volumes. Vols. I,
II, III, IV, and V now ready. Svo. Cloth, gilt top,
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AN IMPORTANT HISTORICAL BOOK.

The History of the Louisiana Pur
chase.
By Dr. James K. Hosmer, Author of "A Short History
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which are shown to possess a historical importance that has not been
appreciated. There has been no account of the Louisiana Purchase v.hich is so
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Louisiana.

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APPLETONS' HOME-READING BOOKS.
Edited by W. T. HARRIS, A.M., LL.D., U. S. Commissioner of Education.
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Year. (alphabetically by authors.) Cents.
7th. Marco Polo. By Edward Atherton ... .60
7th. Uncle Sam's Secrets. By O. P. Austin . . 75
6th. Uncle Sam's Soldiers. By O. P. Austin • . • 75
7th. The Story of the Birds. By J. N. Baskett . . 65
6th. The Story of the Fishes. By J. N. Baskett . . 75
6th. The Story of the Amphibians and Reptiles. By J.
N. Baskett and R. L. Ditmars ... .60
5th. In Brook and Bayou. By Clara Kern Bayliss . . 60
5th. Curious Homes and their Tenants. By J. C. Beard . 65
6th. Historic Boston and its Neighborhood. By E. E. Hale 50
5th. The Hall of Shells. By Mrs. A. S. Hardy . 60
7th. About the Weather. By Mark W. Harrington . 65
7th. The Story of Rob Roy. By Edith D. Harris . 60
4th. The Earth and Sky. By Edward S. Holden . . 28
5th. The Family of the Sun. By Edward S. Holden . 50
6th. Stories of the Great Astronomers. By Edward S. Holden 75
6th. Our Country's Flag and the Flags of Foreign
Countries. By Edward S. Llolden . . .80
5th. News from the Birds. By Leander S. Keyser . . 60
7th. The Story of Oliver Twist. By Ella B. Kirk . 60
6th. Our Navy in Time of War. By Franklin Matthews . 75
7th. Crusoe's Island. By F. A. Ober  65
7th. The Storied West Indies. By F. A. Ober . . 75
6th. Stories from the Arabian Nights. By Adam Singleton 65
3th. Chronicles of Sir John Froissart. By A. Singleton . 75
5th. The Plant World. By Frank Vincent ... 60
6th. The Animal World. By Frank Vincent . 60
7th. The Insect World. By C. M. Weed .... 60
others in preparation.
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