THE BAY STATE MONTHLY.

Chester A. Arthur – May 15, 1882

Volume I.
May, 1884.
Number V.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year
1884, by John N. McClintock and Company, in the office of the Librarian of Congress
at Washington.

CHESTER ALAN ARTHUR.

By Ben: Perley Poore.

Chester Alan Arthur was born at Fairfield, Vermont, October 5, 1830. His father,
the Reverend Doctor William Arthur, was a Baptist clergyman, who emigrated from
county Antrim, Ireland, when only eighteen years of age. He had received a thorough
classical education, and was graduated from Belfast University, one of the foremost
institutions of learning in Ireland. Marrying an American, Miss Malvina Stone, soon
after his arrival, he became the father of several children. Chester was the eldest
of two sons, having four sisters older and two younger than himself. While fulfilling
his clerical duties as the pastor, successively, of a number of Baptist churches in
New York State, Dr. Arthur edited for several years The Antiquarian, and wrote a work
on Family Names, which is highly prized by genealogists. Of Scotch-Irish descent, he
was a man of great force of character, impatient of restraint, at home in a
controversy, and frank in the expression of his opinions. He was a pronounced
emancipationist, although he never expected to see the overthrow of slavery, which it
was his good fortune to witness, as his life was spared until the twenty-seventh of
October, 1875, when he died at Newtonville, near Albany. He was a personal friend of
Gerrit Smith, and they had participated in the organization of the New York State
Anti-Slavery Society, which was dispersed by a mob during its first meeting at Utica,
on the twenty-first of October, 1835 (the day on which William Lloyd Garrison was
mobbed in Boston, and was lodged in jail for his own protection). A friend of the
slave from conscience and from conviction, Dr. Arthur was never backward in
expressing his convictions, and his children imbibed his teachings.

When a lad, young Arthur enjoyed at home the tutelage of his father, whose
thorough knowledge of the classics enabled him to lay the foundation of his son’s
future education broad and deep. He entered Union College in 1845, when only fifteen
years of age. His collegiate course was full of promise, and every successive year he
was declared to be one of those who had taken “maximum honors,” although he was
compelled to absent himself during two winters, when he taught school to earn the
requisite funds for defraying his expenses, without drawing upon his father’s means.
Yet he kept up with his class, and when he was graduated in 1848, he was one of six
out of a class of over one hundred, who were elected members of the Phi Beta Kappa,
an honor only conferred on the best scholars.

Following the natural inclination of his mind, young Arthur began the study of
law, supporting himself by teaching and by preparing boys for college. It so happened
that two years after he was the preceptor of an academy at North Pownal, Vermont, a
student from Williams College, named James A. Garfield, came there and taught
penmanship in the same academy for several months.

In 1853, young Arthur went to New York City, by the invitation of the Honorable
Erastus D. Culver, whose acquaintance he had made when that gentleman represented the
Washington County district, and Dr. Arthur was the pastor of the Baptist Church at
Greenwich. Mr. Culver had been noted in Congress as an advanced, anti-slavery man,
and he was prompted to take an interest in the son of a clergyman-constituent, who
did not fear to express anti-slavery sentiments, at a time when the occupants of
pulpits were generally so conservative that they were dumb upon this important
question. Before the close of the year, young Arthur displayed such legal ability and
business tact, that he was admitted into partnership, and became a member of the firm
of Culver, Parker, and Arthur. The firm had numerous clients, and the junior partner
soon became a successful practitioner, uniting to a thorough knowledge of the law a
vigorous understanding and an untiring industry which gained for him an enviable
reputation.

Among other cases on the docket of Culver, Parker, and Arthur, was one known as
the Lemon slave-case. A Virginian named Jonathan Lemon undertook to take eight slaves
to Texas on steamers, by the way of New York. While in that city a writ of habeas
corpus was issued, and the slaves were brought into the court before Judge Elijah
Paine; Mr. Culver and John Jay appearing for the slaves, while H.D. Lapaugh and Henry
L. Clifton were retained by Lemon. Judge Paine, after hearing long arguments,
declared that the fugitive slave law did not apply to slaves who were brought by
their masters into a free State, and he ordered their release. The Legislature of
Virginia directed the attorney-general of that State to employ counsel to appeal from
Judge Paine’s decision to the Supreme Court of the State of New York. Mr. Arthur, who
was the attorney of record in the case for the people, went to Albany, and after
earnest efforts procured the passage of a joint resolution, requesting the governor
to employ counsel to defend the interests of the State. Attorney-General Hoffman,
E.D. Culver, and Joseph Blunt were appointed by the governor as counsel, and Mr.
Arthur as the State’s attorney. The Supreme Court sustained Judge Paine’s decision.
The slave-holder, unwilling to lose his “property,” then engaged Charles O’Conor to
argue the case before the State Court of Appeals. There the counsel for the State
were again successful in defending the decision of Judge Paine, and from that day no
slave-holder dared to bring his slaves into the city of New York.

Mr. Arthur, who had naturally taken a prominent part in this case, was regarded by
the colored people of New York as a champion of their interests, and it was not long
before they sought his aid. At that time, colored people were not permitted to ride
in the street-cars in New York City, with the exception of a few old and shabby cars
set aside for their occupation. The Fourth-avenue line permitted them to ride when no
other passenger made objection.

One Sunday, in 1855, Lizzie Jennings, a colored woman, returning from having
fulfilled her duties as superintendent of a colored Sunday-school, entered a
Fourth-avenue car, and the conductor took her fare. Soon after, a drunken white man
objected to her presence, and insisted that she be made to leave the car. The
conductor pulled the bell, and when the car stopped, told her that she must get out,
offering to return her fare. She refused, and the conductor then offered to put her
off by force. She made vigorous resistance, exclaiming: “I have paid my fare, and I
have a right to ride.” Finally, the conductor called in several policemen, and, by
their joint efforts, she was removed from the car, her clothing having nearly all
been torn from her in the struggle. When the leading colored people of the city heard
of this, they sent a committee to the office of Culver, Parker, and Arthur, and
requested them to make it a test case.

Mr. Arthur brought suit against the railroad company for Miss Jennings, in the
Supreme Court, at Brooklyn. The case came on for trial before Judge Rockwell, who
then sat upon the bench there. He had just decided, in a previous case, that a
corporation was not liable for the wrongful acts of its agent or servant, and when
Mr. Arthur handed him the pleadings, he said that the railroad company was not
liable, and was about to order a nonsuit. Mr. Arthur called his attention, however,
to a recently revised section of the Revised Statutes, making certain railroad
corporations which carried passengers liable for the acts of their conductors and
drivers, whether wilful or negligent, under which the action had been brought. The
judge was silenced, the case was tried, and the jury rendered a verdict of five
hundred dollars damages in favor of the colored woman. The railroad company paid the
money without further contest, and issued orders to its conductors to permit colored
people to ride in its cars, an example that was followed by all the other street
railroads in New York. The colored people, especially “The Colored People’s Legal
Rights Association,” were very grateful to Mr. Arthur, and for years afterward they
celebrated the anniversary of the day on which he won the case that asserted their
rights in public conveyances.

When a lad, young Arthur had always taken a great interest in politics, and it is
related of him that during the Clay-Polk campaign of 1844, while he and some of his
companions were raising an ash pole in honor of Harry Clay, they were attacked by
some Democratic boys, when young Arthur, who was the leader of the party, ordered a
charge, and drove the young Democrats from the field with sore heads and subdued
spirits. His first vote was cast in 1852 for Winfield Scott for President, and he
identified himself with the Whigs of his ward when he located in New York City. In
those days the best citizens served as inspectors of elections at the polls, and for
some years Mr. Arthur served in that capacity at a voting-place in a carpenter’s
shop, which occupied the site of the present Fifth Avenue Hotel. When, in 1856, the
Republican party was formed, Mr. Arthur was a prominent member of the Young Men’s
Vigilance Committee, which advocated the election of Fremont and Dayton. It was
during this campaign that he became acquainted with Edwin D. Morgan, and gained his
ardent life-long friendship.

Animated by a military spirit, Mr. Arthur sought recreation by joining the
volunteer militia of New York, and he was appointed judge-advocate-general on the
staff of Brigadier-General Yates, who commanded the second brigade. The general was a
strict disciplinarian, and required his field, line, and staff officers to meet
weekly for drill and instruction. Mr. Arthur thus acquired the rudiments of a
military education, and became acquainted with many of those who afterwards
distinguished themselves as officers in the volunteer army of the Union.

General Arthur was married in 1859 to Ellen Lewis Herndon, of Fredericksburg,
Virginia, a daughter of Captain William Lewis Herndon, of the United States Navy, who
had gained honorable distinction when in command of the naval expedition sent to
explore the river Amazon. His heroic death, in 1857, is recorded in history among
those “names which will never be forgotten as long as there is remembrance in the
world for fidelity unto death.” In command of the steamer Central America, which went
down, with a loss of three hundred and sixty lives, he stood at his post on the
wheelhouse, and succeeded in having the women and children safely transferred to the
boats, remaining himself to perish with his vessel. General Sherman has characterized
this grand deed of unselfish devotion as the most heroic incident in our naval
history. Mrs. Arthur was a lady of the highest culture, and in the varied relations
of life—wife, mother, friend—she illustrated all that gives to womanhood
its highest charm, and commands for it the purest homage. She died in 1880, after an
illness of but three days, leaving a son and a daughter, with a large number of
mourning friends, not only in society, of which she was an ornament, but among the
poor and the distressed, whose wants and whose sufferings she had tenderly cared
for.

When the Honorable Edward D. Morgan was elected Governor of the State of New York,
he appointed Mr. Arthur engineer-in-chief on his staff, and when Fort Sumter was
fired upon, the governor telegraphed to him to go to Albany, where he received orders
to act as state quartermaster-general in the city of New York. General Arthur at once
began to organize regiments,—uniform, arm, and equip them,—and send them
to the defence of the capital. His capacity for leadership and organization was soon
manifest. There was no lack of men or of money, but it needed organizing powers like
his to mould them into disciplined form, to grasp the new issues with a master-hand,
and to infuse earnestness and obedience into the citizens, suddenly transformed into
soldiers. His accounts were kept in accordance with the army regulations, and their
subsequent settlement with the United States, without deduction for unwarranted
charges, was an easy task. It was by his exertions, to a great extent, that the
Empire State was enabled to send to the front six hundred and ninety thousand men,
nearly one fifth of the Grand Army of the Union.

There were, of course, many adventurers who sought commissions, and some of the
regiments were recruited from the rough element of city life, who soon refused to
obey their officers. General Arthur made short work of these cases, exercising an
authority which no one dared to dispute. Neither would he permit the army contractors
to ingratiate themselves with him by presents, returning everything thus sent him.
Although a comparatively poor man when he entered upon the duties of
quartermaster-general at New York, he was far poorer when he gave up the office. A
friend describing his course at this period, says: “So jealous was he of his
integrity, that I have known instances where he could have made thousands of dollars
legitimately, and yet he refused to do it on the ground that he was a public officer
and meant to be, like Caesar’s wife, above suspicion.”

When the rebel ironclad steamer Merrimac had commenced her work of destruction
near Fortress Monroe, General Arthur, as engineer-in-chief, took efficient steps for
the defence of New York, and made a thorough inspection of all the forts and defences
in the State, describing the armament of each one. His report to the Legislature,
submitted to that body in a little more than three weeks after his attention was
called to the subject by Governor Morgan, was thus noticed editorially in the New
York Herald of January 25, 1862:—

“The report of the engineer-in-chief, General Arthur, which appeared in yesterday’s
Herald, is one of the most important and valuable documents that have been this
year presented to our Legislature. It deserves perusal, not only on account of the
careful analysis it contains of the condition of the forts, but because the
recommendations, with which it closes, coincide precisely with the wishes of the
administration with respect to securing a full and complete defence of the entire
Northern coast.”

Governor Morgan appointed General Arthur state inspector-general in February,
1862, and ordered him to visit and inspect the New York troops in the army of the
Potomac. While there, as an advance on Richmond was daily expected, he volunteered
for duty on the staff of his friend, Major-General Hunt, commander of the Reserve
Artillery. He had previously, when four fine volunteer regiments had been organized
under the auspices of the metropolitan police commissioners of of the city of New
York, and consolidated into what was known as the “Metropolitan Brigade,” been
offered the command of it by the colonels of the regiments, but on making formal
application, based on a desire to see active service in the field, Governor Morgan
was unwilling that he should accept, stating that he could not be spared from the
service of the State, and that while he appreciated General Arthur’s desire for
war-service, he knew that he would render the country more efficient aid for the
Union cause by remaining at his State post of duty.

When, in June, 1862, the situation had an unfavorable appearance, and there were
apprehensions that a general draft would be necessary, Governor Morgan telegraphed
General Arthur, then with the Army of the Potomac, to return to New York. The General
did so, and was requested, on his arrival, to act as secretary at a confidential
meeting of the governors of loyal States, held at the Astor House, on the
twenty-eighth of July, 1862. After a full and frank discussion of the condition of
affairs in their respective States, the governors united in a request to the
President to call for more troops. President Lincoln, on the first of July, issued a
proclamation, thanking the governors for their patriotism, and calling for three
hundred thousand three-years volunteers, and three hundred thousand nine-months
militia-men. Private intimation that such a call was to be issued would have enabled
army contractors to have made millions; but the secret was honorably kept by all
until after the issue of the proclamation. The quota of New York was 59,705
volunteers, or sixty regiments, and it was desirable that they should be recruited
and sent to the front without delay. General Arthur, by special request of Governor
Morgan, resumed his duties as quartermaster-general and established a system of
recruiting and officering the new levies, which proved wonderfully successful. In his
annual report, made to the governor on the twenty-seventh of January, 1863, he
said:—

“In summing up the operations of the department during the last levy of troops, I
need only state as the result the fact that through the single office and clothing
department of this department in the city of New York, from August 1 to December 1,
the space of four months, there were completely clothed, uniformed, and equipped,
supplied with camp and garrison equipage, and transported from this State to the
seat of war, sixty-eight regiments of infantry, two battalions of cavalry, and four
battalions and ten batteries of artillery.”

In December, 1863, the incoming of the Democratic state administration deprived
General Arthur of his office. His successor, Quartermaster-General Talcott, in a
report to Governor Seymour, paid the following just tribute to his
predecessor:—

“I found, upon entering on the discharge of my duties, a well-organized system of
labor and accountability, for which the State is chiefly indebted to my
predecessor, General Chester A. Arthur, who, by his practical good sense and
unremitting exertion, at a period when everything was in confusion, reduced the
operations of the department to a matured plan by which large amounts of money were
saved to the government, and great economy of time secured in carrying out the
details of the same.”

Resuming his professional duties, at first in partnership with Mr. Gardiner and
afterward alone, he became counsel to the city department of taxes and assessments,
with an annual salary of ten thousand dollars, but he abruptly resigned the position
when the Tammany Hall city officials attempted to coerce the Republicans connected
with the municipal departments.

When the next presidential election drew near, General Arthur entered
enthusiastically into the support of General Grant, and was made chairman of the
Grant Central Club, of New York. He also served as chairman of the executive
committee of the Republican State Committee of New York. In 1871, he formed the
afterwards well-known firm of Arthur, Phelps, Knevals, and Ransom.

President Grant, without solicitation and unexpectedly, appointed General Arthur
collector of the port of New York, on the twentieth of November, 1871. He accepted
the position with much hesitation, but it met with the general approval of the
business community, many of the merchants having become personally acquainted with
his business ability during the war. He instituted many reforms in the management of
the custom-house, all calculated to simplify the business and to divest it, to a
great extent, of all the details and routine so vexatious to the mercantile classes.
The number of his removals during his administration was far less than during the
rule of any other collector since 1857, and the expense of collecting the duties was
far less than it had been for years. So satisfactory was his management of the
custom-house, that, upon the close of his term of service, December, 1875, he was
renominated by President Grant. The nomination was unanimously confirmed by the
Senate without reference to a committee, a compliment very rarely paid, except to
ex-senators. He was the first collector of the port of New York, with one or two
exceptions, who in fifty years ever held the office for more than the whole term of
four years.

Two years later General Arthur was superseded as collector by General Merritt. The
Honorable John Sherman, secretary of the treasury, on being questioned as to the
cause of the removal of General Arthur as collector of customs at New York,
said:—

“I have never said one word impugning General Arthur’s honor or integrity as a man
and a gentleman, but he was not in harmony with the views of the administration in
the management of the custom-house. I would vote for him for Vice-President a
million times before I would vote for W.H. English, with whom I served in
Congress.”

General Arthur, in a letter written by him to Secretary Sherman, on his
administration of the New York custom-house, said:—

“The essential elements of a correct civil service I understand to be: First,
permanance in office, which, of course, prevents removals, except for cause.
Second, promotion from the lower to the higher grades, based upon good conduct and
efficiency. Third, prompt and thorough investigation of all complaints and prompt
punishment of all misconduct. In this respect I challenge comparison with any
department of the Government, either under the present or under any past national
administration. I am prepared to demonstrate the truth of this statement on any
fair investigation.”

Appended to this letter was a table in which General Arthur showed that during the
six years he had managed the office the yearly percentage of removals for all causes
had been only two and three-quarters per cent. against an annual average of
twenty-eight per cent. under his three immediate predecessors, and an annual average
of about twenty-four per cent. since 1857, when Collector Schell took office. Out of
nine hundred and twenty-three persons who held office when he became collector on
December 1, 1871, there were five hundred and thirty-one still in office on May 1,
1877, having been retained during his entire term. Concerning promotions, the
statistics of the office show that during his entire term the uniform practice was to
advance men from the lower to the higher grades, and almost without exception on the
recommendation of heads of departments. All the appointments, excepting two, to the
one hundred positions paying two thousand dollars salary a year, and over, were made
on this method.

Senator George K. Edmunds, at a ratification meeting, held in Burlington, Vermont,
on the twenty-second of June, 1880, said:—

“I have long known General Arthur. The only serious difficulty I have had with the
present administration was when it proposed to remove him from the collectorship of
New York. No one questioned his personal honor and integrity. I resisted the
attempt to the utmost. Since that time it has turned out that all the reforms
suggested had long before been recommended by General Arthur himself, and
pigeonholded at Washington.”

Meanwhile General Arthur had rendered great services as a member, and subsequently
a chairman, of the Republican State Committee, and had united his party from one
success to another through all the mazes and intricacies which characterize the
politics of New York City. Vice-President Wheeler said of him:—

“It is my good fortune to know well General Arthur, the nominee for Vice-President.
In unsullied character and in devotion to the principles of the Republican party no
man in the organization surpasses him. No man has contributed more of time and
means to advance the just interests of the Republican party.”

The National Republican Convention, which assembled at Chicago, in June, 1880, was
an exemplification of the popular will. The respective friends of General Grant and
of Mr. Blaine, equally confident of success, indulged during a night’s session in
prolonged demonstrations of applause when the candidates were presented that were
unprecedented and that will not probably ever be repeated. Neither side was
successful until the thirty-sixth ballot, when the nomination of President was
finally bestowed on General Garfield, who had, as a delegate from Ohio, eloquently
presented the name of John Sherman as a candidate.

The convention then adjourned for dinner and for consultation. When it reassembled
in the evening, the roll of States was called for the nomination for Vice-President.
California presented E.B. Washburne; Connecticut, ex-Governor Jewell; Florida, Judge
Settle; Tennessee, Horace Maynard. These successive names attracted little attention,
but when ex-Lieutenant-Governor Woodford, of New York, rose, and, after a brief
reference to the loyal support which New York had given to General Grant, presented
the name of General Chester A. Arthur for the second place on the ticket, it was
received with applause and enthusiasm. The nomination was seconded by ex-Governor
Denison, of Ohio, Emory A. Storrs, of Illinois, and John Cessna, of Pennsylvania. A
vote was then taken with the following result: Arthur, 468; Washburne, 19; Maynard,
30; Jewell, 44; Bruce, 8; Davis, 2; and Woodford, 1. The nomination of General Arthur
was then made unanimous, and a committee of one from each State, with the presiding
officer of the convention, Senator Hoar, as chairman, was appointed to notify General
Garfield and General Arthur of their nomination. The convention then adjourned
sine die.

Returning to New York, General Arthur was welcomed by a large and influential
gathering of Republicans, who greeted him with hearty cheers. That night he was
serenaded by a large procession of Republicans, which assembled in Union Square and
marched past his residence in Lexington Avenue, with music and fireworks. A few weeks
later, a letter was addressed to him, signed by Hamilton Fish, Noah Davis, and
upwards of a hundred other prominent Republicans, inviting him to dine with them at
the Union League Club, and stating that, in common with all true Republicans, they
rejoiced at the happy issue of the earnest struggle in the Chicago convention. They
hailed the general approval of its work as an auspicious omen, and looked forward
confidently to the labors of the canvass. They felt an especial and personal
gratification in the fact that the ticket selected at Chicago bore his name. His
faithfulness in public duties, his firmness and sagacity in political affairs, so
well understood by his fellow-citizens in New York, had met with national recognition
and won for him this well-deserved honor. Their efforts in his support would be
prompted, not only by personal zeal and enthusiasm, but by the warmth and zeal of
strong personal friendship and esteem. That they might have an opportunity more fully
to express to him their sincere congratulations and hearty good wishes, they invited
him to meet them at dinner at the Union League Club.

General Arthur, in acknowledging the receipt of this letter, expressed his sense
of the kindness which had prompted both the invitation itself and the flattering
assurances of confidence and regard by which it was accompanied. If circumstances had
permitted, he should have been pleased to have accepted the proffered hospitality,
and for that purpose no more congenial spot could have been selected than the
headquarters of the Union League Club, an association so widely famed for its
patriotic zeal and energy, and so efficient in the support of the principles and
policy of the Republican party. He was constrained, however, from considerations of a
private nature known to many, to decline the invitation.

On the fifteenth of July, 1880, General Arthur formally accepted the position
assigned to him by the Chicago convention, and expressed at length his own personal
views on the election laws, public service appointments, the financial problems of
the day, common schools, the tariff, national improvements, and a Republican
ascendency, saying, in conclusion, that he did not doubt that success awaited the
Republican party, and that its triumph would assure a just, economical, and patriotic
administration.

The political campaign of 1880 was earnestly contested by the great political
parties. The Republicans were victorious, and their ticket bearing the names of
Garfield and Arthur was triumphantly elected. On the fourth of March, 1881, General
Arthur took the oath of office in the Senate Chamber as Vice-President of the United
States, and half an hour later General Garfield was inaugurated on a platform before
the east front of the Capitol, in the presence of the imposing military and civil
procession which had escorted him with music and banners. When the ceremony was
concluded, the distinguished personages around the new President tendered their
congratulations, the assembled multitude cheered, and a salute fired by a light
battery stationed near by was echoed by the guns at the navy yard, the arsenal, and
the forts around the metropolis.

Republicans congratulated each other on the indications of a vigorous
administration, governed by a conscientious determination to promote harmony. But a
few months had elapsed, however, before President Garfield was cruelly assassinated,
in the full vigor of his manhood, and the Republican party was at first stricken with
apprehensions. These gloomy doubts, however, soon disappeared as the incidents of Mr.
Arthur’s patriotic and useful life were recalled, and a generous confidence was soon
extended to the new President.

President Arthur took the oath of office in New York immediately after the death
of General Garfield, and he repeated it in the Capitol on the twenty-second of
September, in the Vice-President’s room. The members of General Garfield’s cabinet,
who had been requested by his successor to continue for the present in charge of
their respective departments, were present, with General Sherman in full uniform,
ex-Presidents Hayes and Grant, and Chief Justice Waite in his judicial robes,
escorted by Associate Justices Harlan and Matthews. There were, also, present
Senators Anthony, Sherman, Edmunds, Hale, Blair, Dawes, and Jones, of Nevada, and
Representatives Amos Townsend, McCook, Errett, Randall, Hiscock, and Thomas.
Ex-Vice-President Hamlin, of Maine, and Speaker Sharpe, of New York, were also
present.

When President Arthur entered the room, escorted by General Grant and Senator
Jones, he advanced to a small table, on which was a Bible, and behind which stood the
Chief Justice, who raised the sacred volume, opened it, and presented it to the
President, who placed his right hand upon it. Chief Justice Waite then slowly
administered the oath, and at its conclusion the President kissed the book,
responding, “I will, so help me God.” He then read the following address:—

THE INAUGURAL ADDRESS.

For the fourth time in the history of the Republic its Chief Magistrate has been
removed by death. All hearts are filled with grief and horror at the hideous crime
which has darkened our land; and the memory of the murdered President, his
protracted sufferings, his unyielding fortitude, the example and achievements of
his life and the pathos of his death, will forever illumine the pages of our
history. For the fourth time the officer elected by the people and ordained by the
Constitution to fill a vacancy so created is called to assume the executive chair.
The wisdom of our fathers, foreseeing even the most dire possibilities, made sure
that the Government should never be imperiled because of the uncertainty of human
life. Men may die, but the fabrics of our free institutions remain unshaken. No
higher or more assuring proof could exist of the strength and permanence of popular
government than the fact that, though the chosen of the people be struck down, his
constitutional successor is peacefully installed without shock or strain except the
sorrow which mourns the bereavement. All the noble aspirations of my lamented
predecessor which found expression in his life, the measures devised and suggested
during his brief administration to correct abuses and enforce economy, to advance
prosperity and promote the general welfare, to insure domestic security and
maintain friendly and honorable relations with the nations of the earth, will be
garnered in the hearts of the people, and it will be my earnest endeavor to profit,
and to see that the Nation shall profit, by his example and experience. Prosperity
blesses our country; our fiscal policy is fixed by law, is well grounded, and
generally approved. No threatening issue mars our foreign intercourse, and the
wisdom, integrity, and thrift of our people may be trusted to continue undisturbed
the present assured career of peace, tranquillity, and welfare. The gloom and
anxiety which have enshrouded the country must make repose especially welcome now.
No demand for speedy legislation has been heard. No adequate occasion is apparent
for an unusual session of Congress. The Constitution defines the functions and
powers of the executive as clearly as those of either of the other two departments
of the government, and he must answer for the just exercise of the discretion it
permits and the performance of the duties it imposes. Summoned to these high duties
and responsibilities, and profoundly conscious of their magnitude and gravity, I
assume the trust imposed by the Constitution, relying for aid on Divine guidance
and the virtue, patriotism, and intelligence of the American people.

As President Arthur read his message his voice trembled, but his manner was
impressive, and the eyes of many present were moistened with tears. The first one to
congratulate him when he had concluded was Chief Justice Waite, and the next was
Secretary Blaine. After shaking him by the hand, those present left the room, which
was closed to all except the members of the Cabinet, who there held their first
conference with the President. At this cabinet meeting the following proclamation was
prepared and signed by President Arthur, designating the following Monday as a day of
fasting, humiliation, and prayer:—

By the President of the United States of America;

A PROCLAMATION:

Whereas, in his inscrutable wisdom, it has pleased God to remove from us the
illustrious head of the Nation, James A. Garfield, late President of the United
States; and whereas it is fitting that the deep grief which fills all hearts should
manifest itself with one accord toward the throne of infinite grace, and that we
should bow before the Almighty and seek from him that consolation in our affliction
and that sanctification of our loss which he is able and willing to vouchsafe:

Now, therefore, in obedience to sacred duty, and in accordance with the desire
of the people, I, Chester A. Arthur, President of the United States of America, do
hereby appoint Monday next, the twenty-sixth day of September, on which day the
remains of our honored and beloved dead will be consigned to their last
resting-place on earth; to be observed throughout the United States as a day of
humiliation and mourning; and I earnestly recommend all the people to assemble on
that day in their respective places of divine worship, there to render alike their
tribute of sorrowful submission to the will of Almighty God and of reverence and
love for the memory and character of our late Chief Magistrate.

[SEAL.]In witness whereof I have hereunto set my
hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

[pg 276]

Done at the city of Washington, the twenty-second day of September, in the year
of our Lord 1881, and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and
sixth.

CHESTER A. ARTHUR.

By the President:

JAMES G. BLAINE. Secretary of State.

President Arthur soon showed his appreciation of the responsibilities of his new
office. Knowing principles rather than persons, he subordinated individual
preferences and prejudices to a well-defined public policy. While he was, as he
always had been, a Republican, he had no sympathy for blind devotion to party; he had
“no friends to reward, no enemies to punish;”—and he has been governed by those
principles of liberty and equality which he inherited. His messages to Congress have
been universally commended, and even unfriendly critics have pronounced them careful
and well-matured documents. Their tone is more frank and direct than is customary in
such papers, and their recommendations, extensive and varied as they have been, show
that he has patiently reviewed the field of labor so sadly and so unexpectedly opened
before him, and that he was not inclined to shirk the constitutional duty of aiding
Congress by his suggestions and advice. An honest man, who believes in his own
principles, who follows his own convictions, and who never hesitates to avow his
sentiments, he has given his views in accordance with his deliberate ideas of
right.

The foreign relations of the United States have been conducted by Secretary
Frelinghuysen, under the President’s direction, in a friendly spirit and when
practicable with a view to mutual commercial advantages. He has taken a conservative
view of the management of the public debt, approving all the important suggestions of
the secretary of the treasury, and recognizing the proper protection of American
industry. He is in favor of the great interests of labor, and opposed to such
tinkering with the tariff as will make vain the toil of the industrious farmer,
paralyze the arm of the sturdy mechanic, strike down the hand of the hardy laborer,
stop the spindle, hush the loom, extinguish the furnace-fires, and degrade all
independent toilers to the level of the poor in other lands. The architect of his own
fortune, he has a strong and abiding sympathy for those bread-winners who struggle
against poverty.

The reform of the civil service has met with President Arthur’s earnest support,
and his messages show that every department of the government has received his
careful administration. Following the example of Washington, he has personally
visited several sections of the United States, and has especially made himself
acquainted with the great problem of Indian civilization.

President Arthur’s administration has been characterized by an elevated tone at
home and abroad. All important questions have been carefully discussed at the council
table, at which the President has displayed unusual powers of analysis and
comprehension. The conflicting claims of applicants for appointments to offices in
his gift, have been carefully weighed, and no action has been taken until all parties
interested have had a hearing. The President has a remarkable insight into men,
promptly estimating character with an accuracy that makes it a difficult matter to
deceive him, or to win his favor either for visionary schemes, corrupt attacks upon
the treasury, or incompetent place-hunters. He has shown that he has been guided by a
wise experience of the past, and a sagacious foresight of the future, exhibiting
sacrifices of individual friendship to a sense of public duty.

Possessing moral firmness and a just self-reliance, President Arthur did not
hesitate about vetoing the “Chinese Bill” and the “Bill making appropriations for
rivers and harbors” for reasons which he laid before Congress in his veto messages.
The wisdom and sagacity which he has displayed in his management of national affairs
has been especially acceptable to the business interests of the country. They have
tested his administration by business principles, and they feel that, so long as he
firmly grasps the helm of the ship of state, she will pursue a course of peace and
prosperity.

In dispensing the hospitalities of the White House, President Arthur has exhibited
the resources of a naturally generous disposition and a refined taste. His
remembrance of persons who call upon him, and whom he may not have seen for years, is
remarkable, and his hearty, genial temperament enables him to make his visitors at
home. His vigorous vitality of body and mind, his manly figure and expressive face,
add to the dignity of his manner. A ready speaker, he at all times rises to the level
of an emergency, and he invariably charms those who hear him by his courtesy of
expression, which is the outward reflection of a large, kind heart.

President Arthur’s numerous friends contemplate the prominent events of his
eventful life without regret, and with a sincere belief that they will be sustained
by the verdict of impartial history. Utility to the country has been the rule of his
political life, and he has arrived at that high standard of official excellence which
prevailed in the early days of the Republic, when honesty, firmness, patriotism, and
stability of character were the characteristics of public men. Under his lead, the
Republican party, disorganized and disheartened after the sad death of General
Garfield, has gradually become strengthened and united on the eve of another
presidential victory.

YESTERDAY.

By Kate L. Brown.

THE BOUNDARY LINES OF OLD GROTON.—I.

By The Hon. Samuel Abbott Green, M.D.

The original grant of the township of Groton was made by the General Court, on May
25, 1655, and gave to the proprietors a tract of land eight miles square; though
during the next year this was modified so that its shape varied somewhat from the
first plan. It comprised all of what is now Groton and Ayer, nearly all of Pepperell
and Shirley, large parts of Dunstable and Littleton, smaller parts of Harvard and
Westford, Massachusetts, and a portion of Nashua, New Hampshire. The grant was taken
out of the very wilderness, relatively far from any other town, and standing like a
sentinel on the frontiers. Lancaster, fourteen miles away, was its nearest neighbor
in the southwesterly direction on the one side; and Andover and Haverhill, twenty and
twenty-five miles distant, more or less, in the northeasterly direction on the other.
No settlement on the north stood between it and the settlements in Canada. Chelmsford
and Billerica were each incorporated about the same time, though a few days
later.

When the grant was made, it was expressly stipulated that Mr. Jonathan Danforth,
of Cambridge, with such others as he might desire, should lay it out with all
convenient speed in order to encourage the prompt settlement of a minister; and
furthermore that the selectmen of the town should pay a fair amount for his services.
During the next year a petition, signed by Deane Winthrop and seven others, was
presented to the General Court asking for certain changes in the conditions, and
among them the privilege to employ another “artist” in the place of Mr. Danforth, as
he was overrun with business. The petition was referred to a committee who reported
favorably upon it, and the request was duly granted. Formerly a surveyor was called
an artist, and in old records the word is often found with that meaning.

Ensign Peter Noyes, of Sudbury, was then engaged by the grantees and he began the
survey; but his death, on September 23, 1657, delayed the speedy accomplishment of
the work. It is known that there was some trouble in the early settlement of the
place, growing out of the question of lands, but its exact character is not recorded;
perhaps it was owing to the delay which now occurred. Ensign Noyes was a noted
surveyor, but not so famous as Jonathan Danforth, whose name is often mentioned in
the General Court records, in connection with the laying out of lands and towns, and
many of whose plans are still preserved among the Archives in the State House.
Danforth was the man wanted at first for the undertaking; and after Noyes’s death he
took charge of it, and his elder brother, Thomas, was associated with him. The plat
or plan of the land, however, does not appear to have been completed until April,
1668. The survey was made during the preceding year. At a meeting of the selectmen of
the town, held on November 23, 1667, it is recorded that a rate should be levied in
order to pay “the Artest and the men that attended him and his diet for himself and
his horse, and for two sheets of parchment, for him to make two platts for the towne,
and for Transportation of his pay all which amounts to about twenty pounds and to pay
severall other town debts that appear to us to be due.”

A little further on in the records a charge of five shillings is made ‘ffor two
sheats of Parchment.’ These entries seem to show that two plans were made, perhaps
one for the town and the other for the Colony; but neither copy is now to be found.
An allusion is made to one of them in a petition, presented to the General Court on
February 10, 1717, by John Shepley and John Ames. It is there mentioned that “the
said Plat thô something defaced is with the Petitioner;” and is further stated
“That in the year 1713 M^r Samuel Danforth Surveyor & Son of the
aforesaid Jonathan Danforth, at the desire of the said Town of Groton did run the
Lines & make an Implatment of the said Township laid out as before & found it
agreeable to the former. W^h last Plat the Petitioners do herewith exhibit,
And pray that this Hon^ble Court would allow & confirm the same as the
Township of Groton.”

While the original plan has been lost or destroyed, it is fortunate that many
years ago a copy was made, which is still preserved. In June, 1825, the Honorable
James Prescott was in the possession of the original, which Caleb Butler, Esq., at
that time transcribed into one of the town record-books, and thereby saved it for
historical purposes. Even with this clew a special search has been made for the
missing document, but without success. If it is ever found it will be by chance,
where it is the least looked for. There is no reason to doubt the accuracy of the
outlines or the faithfulness of the copy. The relative distances between the streams
emptying into the Nashua River, however, are not very exact; and in the engraving for
the sake of clearness I have added their names, as well as the name of Forge Pond,
formerly called Stony Brook Pond.

Accompanying the copy is a description of the survey, which in connection with the
drawing gives a good idea of the general shape of the township. Perhaps in the
original these two writings were on the same sheet. In the transcript Mr. Butler has
modernized the language and made the punctuation conform to present usage. In the
engraved cut I have followed strictly the outlines of the plan, as well as the course
of the rivers, but I have omitted some details, such as the distances and directions
which are given along the margins. These facts appear in the description, and perhaps
were taken from it by the copyist. I have also omitted the acreage of the grant,
which is grossly inaccurate.

Whereas the Plantation of Groton, containing by grant the proportion of eight
miles Square, was begun to be laid out by Ensign Noyes, and he dying before he had
finished his work, it is now finished, whose limits and bounds are as
followeth,

It began on the east side of Nashua River a little below Nissitisset hills at
the short turning of the River bounded by a pine tree marked with G. and so running
two miles in a direct line to buckmeadow which p^rtains to Boston
Farms, Billerica land and Edward Cowells farm until you come to Massapoag Pond,
which is full of small islands; from thence it is bounded by the aforesaid Pond
until you come to Chelmsford line, after that it is bounded by Chelmsford and
Nashoboh lines until you come to the most southerly corner of this Plantation, and
from thence it runs West-North-West five miles and a half and sixty four poles,
which again reacheth to Nashua River, then the former west-north-west line is
continued one mile on the west side of the river, and then it runs one third of a
point easterly of north & by east nine miles and a quarter, from thence it
runneth four miles due east, which closeth the work to the river again to the first
pine below Nissitisset hills, where we began: it is bounded by the Farms and
plantations as aforesaid and by the wilderness elsewhere; all which lines are run
and very sufficiently bounded by marked trees & pillars of stones: the figure
or manner of the lying of it is more fully demonstrated by this plot taken of the
same.

By JONATHAN DANFORTH,
April 1668.
Surveyor.

The map of Old Dunstable, between pages 12 and 13 in Fox’s History of that town,
is very incorrect, so far as it relates to the boundaries of Groton. The Squannacook
River is put down as the Nissitissett, and this mistake may have tended to confuse
the author’s ideas. The southern boundary of Dunstable was by no means a straight
line, but was made to conform in part to the northern boundary of Groton, which was
somewhat irregular. Groton was incorporated on May 25, 1655, and Dunstable on October
15, 1673, and no part of it came within the limits of this town. The eastern boundary
of Groton originally ran northerly through Massapoag Pond and continued into the
present limits of Nashua, New Hampshire.

On the southeast of Groton, and adjoining it, was a small township granted, in the
spring of 1654, by the General Court to the Nashobah Indians, who had been converted
to Christianity under the instruction of the Apostle Eliot and others. They were few
in numbers, comprising perhaps ten families, or about fifty persons. During Philip’s
War this settlement was entirely deserted by the Indians, thus affording a good
opportunity for the English to encroach on the reservation, which was not lost. These
intruders lived in the neighboring towns, and mostly in Groton. Some of them took
possession with no show of right, while others went through the formality of buying
the land from the Indians, though such sales did not, as was supposed at the time,
bring the territory under the jurisdiction of the towns where the purchasers
severally lived. It is evident from the records that these encroachments gave rise to
controversy. The following entry, under date of June 20, 1682, is found in the
Middlesex County Court records at East Cambridge, and shows at that time to
re-establish the boundary lines of Nashobah:—

Cap^t Thomas Hinchman, L^t. Joseph Wheeler, &
L^t. Jn^o flynt surveyo^r, or any two of them are
nominated & impowred a Comittee to run the ancient bounds of Nashobah
Plantation, & remark the lines, as it was returned to the geñall Court
by said m^r flynt at the charge of the Indians, giving notice to the
select men of Grotton of time & place of meeting, w^ch is referred to
m^r flint, to appoint, & to make return to next Coun Court at
Cambridge in order to a finall settem^t

Again, under date of October 3, 1682 (“3. 8. 1682.”), it is entered
that—

The return of the committee referring to the bounds of Nashobey next to Grotton,
was p^rsented to this Court and is on file.

Approved

The “return” is as follows:

We Whose names are underwritten being appointed by y^e
Hon^rd County Court June: 20^th 1682. To ruñ the Ancient
bounds of Nashobey, haue accordingly ruñ the said bounds, and find that the
town of Groton by theire Second laying out of theire bounds have taken into theire
bounds as we Judge neer halfe Indian Plantation Seuerall of the Select men and
other inhabitants of Groton being then with us Did See theire Erro^r
therein & Do decline that laying out So far as they haue Inuaded the right of
y^e Indians.

Also we find y^t the Norwest Corner of Nashobey is run into
y^e first bounds of Groton to y^e Quantity of 350 acres
according as Groton men did then Show us theire Said line, which they Say was made
before Nashobey was laid out, and which bounds they Do Challenge as theire Right.
The Indians also haue Declared them Selves willing to forego that Provided they may
haue it made up upon theire West Line, And we Judge it may be there added to theire
Conveniance.

[pg 282]

2: October: 1682.
Exhibited in Court 3: 8: 82:
& approved T D: R.

JOSEPH WHEELER

JOHN FLINT

A true Coppy of y^e originall on file w^th y^e
Records of County Court for Middx.

Ex^d p^r Sam^ll: Phipps Cle^r

[Massachusetts Archives, cxii, 331.]

Among the Groton men who had bought land of the Nashobah Indians were Peleg
Lawrence and Robert Robbins. Their names appear, with a diagram of the land, on a
plan of Nashobah, made in the year 1686, and found among the Massachusetts Archives,
in the first volume (page 125) of “Ancient Plans Grants &c.” Lawrence and Robbins
undoubtedly supposed that the purchase of this land brought it within the
jurisdiction of Groton. Lawrence died in the year 1692; and some years later the town
made an effort to obtain from his heirs their title to this tract, as well as from
Robbins his title. It is recorded at a town meeting, held on June 8, 1702, that the
town

did uote that they would giue Peleg larraness Eairs three acers of madow whare thay
ust to Improue and tenn acers of upland neare that madow upon the Conditions
following that the aboue sd Peleg larrances heirs do deliuer up that Indian titelle
which thay now haue to the town

At the same meeting the town voted that

thay would giue to robart robins Sener three acers of madow where he uste to
Improue: and ten acers of upland near his madow upon the Conditions forlowing that
he aboue sd Robart Robbins doth deliuer: up that Indian titels which he now hath:
to the town.

It appears from the records that no other business was done at this meeting,
except the consideration of matters growing out of the Nashobah land. It was voted to
have an artist lay out the meadow at “Nashobah line,” as it was called, as well as
the land which the town had granted to Walter and Daniel Powers, probably in the same
neighborhood; and also that Captain Jonas Prescott be authorized to engage an artist
at an expense not exceeding six shillings a day.

Settlers from the adjacent towns were now making gradual encroachments on the
abandoned territory, and among them Groton was well represented. All the documents of
this period relating to the subject show an increased interest in these lands, which
were too valuable to remain idle for a long time. The following petition,
undoubtedly, makes a correct representation of the case:—

To his Excellency Joseph Dudley Esq^r Captain Gen^ll &
Governour in Chief in & over her Majesties Province of the Massachusets Bay
&c: togeither with the honourable Council, & Representatives in Great and
Gen^ll Court Assembled at Cambridge Octobe^r 14^th.
1702.

The Petition of the Inhabitants of Stow humbly sheweth.

That Whereas the honourable Court did pleas formerly to grant vnto vs the
Inhabitants of Stow a certain Tract of Land to make a Village or Township of,
environed with Concord, Sudbury, Marlbury, Lancaster, Groton, & Nashoby: And
Whereas the said Nashoby being a Tract of Land of four miles square, the which for
a long time hath been, and still is deserted and left by the Indians none being now
resident there, and those of them who lay claim to it being desireous to sell said
land; and some English challenging it to be theirs by virtue of Purchase; and
besides the Town of Groton in particular, hath of late extended their Town lyne
into it, takeing away a considerable part of it; and Especially of Meadow (as wee
are Well informed) Wherefore wee above all o^r Neighbour Towns, stand in
the greatest need of Enlargement; having but a pent up smale Tract of Land and very
little Meadow.

[pg 283]

Whence we humbly Pray the great & Gen^ll Court, that if said
Nashoby may be sold by the Indians wee may have allowance to buy, or if it be
allready, or may be sold to any other Person or Persons, that in the whole of it,
it be layed as an Addition to vs the smale Town of Stow, it lying for no other Town
but vs for nighness & adjacency, togeither with the great need wee stand of it,
& the no want of either or any of the above named Towns. Shall it Pleas the
great & Gen^ll Court to grant this o^r Petition, wee shall
be much more able to defray Publick Charges, both Civil, & Ecclesiasticall, to
settle o^r Minister amongst vs in order to o^r Injoyment of the
Gospel in the fullness of it. Whence hopeing & believing that the Petition of
the Poor, & needy will be granted. Which shall forever oblidge yo^r
Petition^rs to Pray &c:

THO: STEEVENS. Cler:
In the Towns behalfe

[Massachusetts Archives, cxiii, 330.]

This petition was granted on October 21, 1702, on the part of the House of
Representatives, but negatived in the Council, on October 24.

During this period the territory of Nashobah was the subject of considerable
dispute among the neighboring towns, and slowly disappearing by their encroachments.
Under these circumstances an effort was made to incorporate a township from this
tract and to establish its boundaries. The following petition makes a fair statement
of the case, though the signatures to it are not autographs:

To His Excel^cy: Joseph Dudley Esq: Cap^t: Generall &
Gov^r: in Chief in and over Her Maj^ties: Province of
Mass^ts: Bay in New-England, Together with y^e
Hon^ble: the Council, & Representatives in Gen^ll: Court
Assembled on the 30^th of May, In the Tenth Year of Her
Maj^ties: Reign Annoq Domⁱ: 1711,—The Humble Petition of
us the Subscribers Inhabitants of Concord, Chelmsford, Lancaster & Stow &c
within the County of Midd^x in the Province Afores^d.

Most Humbly Sheweth

That there is a Considerable Tract of Land Lying vacant and unimproved Between
the Towns of Chelmsford, Lancaster & Stow & Groton, as s^d Groton
was Survey’d & Lay’d out by Mr. Noyce, & the Plantation Call’d Concord
Village, which is Commonly known by the Name of Nashoba, in the County of
Midd^x: Afores^d. & Sundry Persons having Made Entrys
thereupon without Orderly Application to the Government, and as we are Inform’d,
& have reason to believe, diverse others are designing so to do.

We Yo^r Hum^ble Petitioners being desirous to Prevent the
Inconveniences that may arise from all Irregular Intrusions into any vacant Lands,
and also In a Regular manner to Settle a Township on the Land afores^d,
by which the frontier on that Side will be more Clos’d & Strengthened &
Lands that are at Present in no wise beneficiall or Profitable to the Publick might
be rendred Servicable for the Contributing to the Publlick Charge, Most Humbly
Address Ourselves to your Excy: And this Honourable Court.

Praying that your Petitioners may have a Grant of Such Lands Scituate as
Afores^d. for the Ends & Purposes afores^d. And that a
Committee may be appointed by this Hon^ble: Court to View, Survey and Set
out to Yo^r. Petitioners the s^d. Lands, that so
Yo^r. s^d. Petitioners may be enabled to Settle thereupon with
Such others as shall joyn them In an orderly and regular manner: Also Praying that
Such Powers and Priviledges may be given and confered upon the same as are granted
to other Towns, And Yo^r Petitioners shall be Most ready to attend Such
Directions, with respect to Such Part of the s^d. Tract as has been
formerly reserv^d for the Indians, but for a Long time has been wholly
Left, & is now altogether unimprov’d by them, And all other things which this
Hon^ble: Court in their Wisdom & justice Shall See meet to appoint
for the Regulation of such Plantation or Town.

[pg 284]

And Yo^r: Hum^ble: Petitioners as in Duty Bound Shall Ever
Pray &c.

Gershom Procter
Sam^ll. Procter
John Procter
Joseph Fletcher
John Miles
John Parlin
Robert Robins
John Darby
John Barker
Sam^l: Stratton
Hezekiah Fletcher
Josiah Whitcomb
John Buttrick
Will^m: Powers
Jonathan Hubburd
W^m Keen
John Heald
John Bateman
John Heywood
Thomas Wheeler
Sam^ll: Hartwell, jun^r:
Sam^ll: Jones
John Miriam

In the House of Representatives
June 6: 1711. Read & Comitted.
7 … Read, &

Ordered that Jo^a. Tyng Esq^r: Thom^s: Howe
Esq^r: & M^r: John Sternes be a Comittee to view the Land
mentioned in the Petition, & Represent the Lines, or Bounds of the severall
adjacent Towns bounding on the s^d. Lands and to have Speciall Regard to
the Land granted to the Indians, & to make report of the quantity, &
circumstances thereof.

Sent up for Concurrence.

JOHN BURRIL Speaker
In Council
June 7. 1711, Read and Concurr’d.
ISA: ADDINGTON, Secry.

[Massachusetts Archives, cxiii, 602, 603.]

The committee, to whom was referred this subject, made a report during the next
autumn; but no action in regard to it appears to have been taken by the General Court
until two years later.

THE NEW ENGLAND TOWN-HOUSE.

By J.B. Sewall.

A Recollection of my boyhood is a large unpainted barnlike building standing at a
point where three roads met at about the centre of the town. When all the inhabitants
of the town were of one faith religiously, or at least the minority were not strong
enough to divide from the majority, and one meeting-house served the purposes of all,
this was the meeting-house. To this, the double line of windows all round, broken by
the long round-topped window midway on the back side, and the two-storied vestibule
on the front, and, more than all, the old pulpit still remaining within, with the
sounding-board suspended above it, bore witness. Here assembled every spring, at the
March meeting, the voters of the town, to elect their selectmen and other town
officers for the ensuing year, to vote what moneys should be raised for the repair of
roads, bridges, maintaining the poor, etc., and take any other action their
well-being as a community demanded; in the autumn, to cast their votes for state
representative, national representative, governor of the State, or President of the
United States, one or all together, as the case might be.

Many such town-houses, probably, are standing to-day in the New England
States,—I know there are such in Maine,—and they are existing witnesses
to what was generally the fact: towns, at the first, when young and small, built the
meeting-house for two purposes; first, for use as a house of worship; second, for
town meetings; and when in process of time a new church or churches were built for
the better accommodation of the people, or because different denominations had come
into existence, or because the young people wanted a smarter building with a steeple,
white paint, green blinds, and a bell, the old building was sold to the town for
purely town purposes.

When the settlements were made, the first public building erected was generally
the meeting-house, and this in the case of the earlier settlements was very soon. In
Plymouth, the first building was a house twenty feet square for a storehouse and “for
common occupation,” then their separate dwellings.

The “common” building was used for religious and other meetings until the
meeting-house with its platform on top for cannon, on Burial Hill, was built in 1622.
“Boston seems to have had no special building for public worship until, during the
year 1632, was erected the small thatched-roof, one-story building which stood on
State Street, where Brazer’s building now stands.”¹ This was in the second year,
the settlement having been made in the autumn of 1630. In Charlestown, “The Great
House,” the first building erected that could be called a house, was first used as
the official residence of the governor, and the sessions of the Court of Assistants
appear to have been held in it until the removal to Boston, but when the church was
formed, in 1632, it was used for a meeting-house.

Dorchester had the first meeting-house in the Bay, built in 1631, the next year
after settlement, and by the famous order passed “mooneday eighth of October, 1633,”
it appears that it was the regular meeting-place of the inhabitants of the plantation
for general purposes. The Lynn church was formed in 1632, and the meeting-house
appears to have been built soon after, and was used for town meetings till 1806. It
was the same in towns of later settlement. In Brunswick, Maine, which became a
township in 1717, the first public building was the meeting-house, and this also was
the town-house for almost one hundred years. Belfast, Maine, incorporated in 1773,
held its first two town meetings in a private house, afterwards, for eighteen years,
“at the Common on the South end of No. 26” (house lot),² whether under cover or in open
air is not known, after that, in the meeting-house generally, till the town hall was
built. In Harpswell, Maine, the old meeting-house, like that described, when
abandoned as a house of worship, was sold to the town for one hundred dollars and is
still in use as a town-house.

The town-house, therefore, though it cannot strictly be said to have been
coëval with the town, was essentially so, the meeting-house being generally the
first public building, and used equally for town meetings and public worship.

How early, then, was the town? When the settlement at Plymouth took place, in one
sense a town existed at once. It was a collection of families living in neighborhood
and united by the bonds of mutual obligation common in similar English communities.
But it was a town as yet only in that sense. In fact, it was a state. The words of
the compact signed on board the Mayflower were, in part: “We, whose names are
underwritten … do by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God
and one of another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body
politic, for our better ordering and preservation, … and by virtue hereof to enact,
constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, acts, constitutions, and offices,
from time to time, as shall be most meet and convenient for the general good of the
colony; unto which we promise all due submission and obedience.”

These words were the constitution of more than a town government. They erected a
democratic state—a commonwealth. It was a general government separate from and
above the town governments which were afterwards instituted. It enacted general laws
by an assembly of deputies in which the eight plantations in the colony, which
afterwards became towns, were represented. These laws were executed by a governor and
an assistant, and were of equal binding force in all the plantations after, as well
as before, these plantations became towns.

The Massachusetts Colony came over as a corporation with a royal charter which
gave power to the freemen of the company to elect a governor, deputy-governor, and
assistants, and “make laws and ordinances, not repugnant to the laws of England, for
their own benefit and the government of persons inhabiting their territory.” The
colonists divided themselves into plantations, part at Naumkeag (Salem), at Mishawum
(Charlestown), at Dorchester, Boston, Watertown, Roxbury, Mystic, and Saugus (Lynn),
and while the General Court, as the governor, deputy-governor, and assistants were
called, made general “laws and ordinances” for the whole, the plantations were at
liberty to manage their own particular affairs as they pleased. They called meetings
and took action by themselves, as at Watertown, when, in 1632, the people assembled
and expressed their discontent with a tax laid by the court, and at Dorchester as
previously referred to. To Dorchester, however, belongs the honor of leading the way
to that form of town government which has prevailed in New England ever since. It
came about in this way. The settlement was begun in June, 1630, and for more than
three years the people seem to have managed their affairs under the administration of
the Court of Assistants by means of meetings. At such a meeting, held October 8,
1633, it was ordered “for the generall good and well ordering of the affaires of the
plantation,” that there should be a general meeting of the inhabitants at the
meeting-house every Monday morning before the court, which was four times a year, or
became so the next year, “to settle & sett downe such orders as may tend to the
general good as aforesayd, & every man to be bound thereby without gainsaying or
resistance.” This very interesting order is given entire in the Memorial History of
Boston. ³
There were also appointed twelve selectmen, “who were to hold monthly
meetings, & whose orders were binding when confirmed by the Plantation.”

Here was our New England town almost exactly as it is to-day. The inhabitants met
at stated times and voted what seemed necessary for their own local order and
welfare, and committed the execution of their will to twelve selectmen, who were to
meet monthly. Our towns now have an annual meeting for the same purpose, and elect
generally three selectmen, who meet at stated times,—sometimes as often as once
a week. Watertown followed, about the same time, selecting three men “for the
ordering of public affairs.” Boston appears to have done the same thing in 1634, and
Charlestown in the following year, the latter being the first to give the name
Selectmen to the persons so chosen, a name which soon was generally adopted
and has since remained.

The reason of this action it is easy to conjecture, but it is fully stated in the
order of the inhabitants of Charlestown at the meeting in which the action for the
government of the town by selectmen was taken: “In consideration of the great trouble
and charge of the inhabitants of Charlestown by reason of the frequent meeting of the
townsmen in general, and that, by reason of many men meeting, things were not so
easily brought into a joint issue; it is therefore agreed, by the said townsmen,
jointly, that these eleven men … shall entreat of all such business as shall
concern the townsmen, the choice of officers excepted; and what they or the greater
part of them shall conclude of, the rest of the town willingly to submit unto as
their own proper act, and these eleven to continue in this employment for one year
next ensuing the date hereof.”

Town government, thus instituted, was recognized the next year—1636—by
the General Court, and thereafter the towns were corporations lawfully existing and
endowed with certain fixed though limited powers.

The plantations of the Plymouth Colony followed the example. In 1637, Duxbury was
incorporated, and at the General Court of the colony, in 1639, deputies were in
attendance from seven towns.

“Thus,” says Judge Parker, ⁴ “there grew up a system of government embracing
two jurisdictions, administered by the same people; the Colonial government, having
jurisdiction over the whole colony, administered by the great body of the freemen,
through officers elected and appointed by them; and the town governments, having
limited local jurisdiction, such as was conceded to them by the Colonial government,
administered by the inhabitants, through officers and agents chosen by them.”

By this change,—the invention of the colonists themselves without copy or
pattern,—the colonies were transformed from pure democracies into a congeries
of democratic republics; and each town-house, or whatever building was used for such,
became the state-house of a little republic. And this is what it is in every New
England town to-day.

Was not, then, the New England town-house a thing of inheritance at all? Yes, so
far as it was a building for the common meeting of the inhabitants of the town, and
so far as it was a place for free discussion and the ordering of purely local
affairs. The colonists came from their English homes already familiar with the
town-hall and its uses so far. If one will turn to any gazetteer or
encyclopædia which gives a description of Liverpool, England, he will find the
town-hall described as one of the noble edifices of that town. The present structure
was opened in 1754, but it was the successor of others, the first of which must have
dated back somewhere near the time when King John gave the town its
charter—1207. Or he may turn to the town of Hythe in the county of Kent. In its
corporation records, it is said, is the following entry, bearing date in the year
1399: “Thomas Goodeall came before the jurats in the common hall on the 10th
day of October, and covenanted to give for his freedom 20d., and so he was
received and sworn to bear fealty to our Lord the King and his successors, and to the
commonalty and liberty of the port of Hethe, and to render faithful account of his
lots and scots ⁵ as freeman there are wont.” In another entry, in
the same year, the building is mentioned again as the “Common House.”

We may go further back than this. History tells us that “the boroughs (towns) of
England, during the period of oppression, after the Norman invasion, led the way in
the silent growth and elevation of the English people; that, unnoticed and despised
by prelate and noble, they had alone preserved the full tradition of Teutonic
liberty; that, by their traders and shopkeepers, the rights of self-government, of
free speech in free meeting, of equal justice by one’s equals, were brought safely
across the ages of Norman tyranny.”⁶ The rights of self-government and free speech in
free meeting, then, were rights and practices of our Anglo-Saxon ancestry, and we are
to go back with them across the English channel to their barbarian German home, and
to the people described by Tacitus in his Germania, for the origin, as far as we can
trace it, of this part of our inheritance. These people were famed for their spirit
of independence and freedom. The mass are described as freemen, voting together in
the great assemblies of the tribe, and choosing their own leaders or kings from the
class of nobles, who were nobles not as constituting a distinct and privileged caste.
“It was their greater estates and the greater consequence which accompanied these
that marked their rank.” When we first learn of these assemblies, they are
out-of-doors, under the broad canopy of heaven alone, but the time came, as the
rathhaus of the German town to-day attests, when they built the common hall or
town-house; and we, to-day, in this remote and then unknown and unconjectured land of
the West, are in this regard their heirs as well as descendants.⁷

In what, then, is the New England town-house more than, or different from, the
English town-house? In this, that it is the state-house of a little democratic
republic which came into existence of and by itself of a natural necessity, and not
merely governs itself, making all the laws of local need and executing
them—levying taxes, maintaining schools, and taking charge of its own poor, of
roads, bridges, and all matters pertaining to the health, peace, and safety of all
within its bounds, in a word, all things which it can do for itself,—but also
in confederation with other little democratic republics has called into being, and
clothed with all the power it has for those matters of common need which the town
cannot do, the State. The State of Massachusetts, from the day that the people
created the General Court the body it still is, by electing deputies from the
towns,—representatives we now call them,—to sit instead of the whole body
of freemen, with the governor [pg 289] and council, for the performance of all acts of
legislation for the common good, is the outgrowth of and exists only by virtue of the
towns. The towns created it, compose it, send up to it its heart-and-life blood. This
it is which makes the New England town unique, attracting the attention and interest
of intelligent foreigners who visit our shores. Judge Parker says: “I very well
recollect the curiosity expressed by some of the gentlemen in the suite of Lafayette,
on his visit to this country in 1825, respecting these town organizations and their
powers and operations.” In the same connection he adds that “a careful examination of
the history of the New England towns will show that,” instead of being modeled after
the town of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, or the free cities of the continent of the
twelfth century, “they were not founded or modeled on precedent” at all. Mr. E.A.
Freeman, however, puts it more truthfully in saying: “The circumstances of New
England called the primitive assembly (that is, the Homeric agora, Athenian ekklesia,
Roman comitia, Swiss landesgemeinde, English folk-moot) again into being, when in the
older England it was well-nigh forgotten. What in Switzerland was a survival
was in New England rather a revival.”⁸

Our New England town-house, therefore, is a symbol of institutions, partly
original with our fathers, partly a priceless inheritance from Old England the land
of our fathers, and nearly in the whole, if not quite, a regermination and new growth
of old race instincts and practices on a new soil.

The New England town is not an institution of all the States, but its principle
has invaded the majority. To the West and Northwest it has been carried by the New
Englander himself, and is being carried by him both directly and indirectly into the
South and Southwest, and will show there in no great length of time its prevailing
and vitalizing power.

It was Jefferson, himself a Virginian, reared in the midst of another system,
aristocratical and central in its character, who said: “These wards, called townships
in New England, are the vital principle of their governments, and have proved
themselves the wisest invention ever devised by the wit of man for the perfect
exercise of self-government and for its preservation.”

The New England town-house, therefore, is significant of more than its predecessor
in England or Germany. While with them it means freedom in the management of local
affairs, beyond them it means a relation to the State and the National government
which they did not. It means not merely a broad basis for the general government in
the people, that the people are the reason and remote source of governing power, but
that they are themselves the governors. Every man who enters a New England town-house
and casts his vote knows that that expression of his will is a force which reaches,
or may reach, the Legislature of his State, the governor in his chair, the National
Congress, and the President in the White House at Washington. He feels an interest
therefore, and a responsibility which the voter in no other land in the world feels,
and the town-house is an education to him in the art of self-government which no
other country affords, and because of it the town is an institution teaching how to
maintain government, local, state, and general, and so bases that government in
self-interest and beneficial experience, that it is a pledge of security and
perpetuity as regards socialism, communism, and as it would seem every other
revolutionary influence from within. It is in strong contrast with the commune of
France. France is divided for the purposes of local government into departments;
departments into arrondissements; and arrondissements into communes, the commune
being the administrative unit. The department is governed by a préfet and a
conseil-général, the préfet being appointed by the central
government and directly under its control, and the conseil-général an
elective body. The arrondissement is presided over by a sous-préfet and an
elective council. The commune is governed by a maire and a conseil-municipal.

The conseil-municipal is an elective body, but its duties “consist in assisting
and to some extent controlling the maire, and in the management of the communal
affairs,” but the maire is appointed by the central government and is liable to
suspension by the préfet.

The relation of the citizen to the general government in France is therefore
totally different from that of the citizen of the United States to his general
government, and the town organization is a school of free citizenship which the
commune is not, and so far republican institutions in America have a guaranty which
in France they have not.

BUNKER HILL.

By Henry B. Carrington, U.S.A., Ll.D.

[(a) The occupation of Charlestown Heights on the night of June 16, 1775, was of
strategic value, however transient, equalizing the relations of the parties
opposed, and projecting its force and fire into the entire struggle for American
Independence. (Pages 290-302.)

(b)The Siege of Boston, which followed, gave to the freshly organized
Continental army that discipline, that instruction in military engineering, and
that contact with a well-trained enemy which prepared it for immediate operations
at New York and in New Jersey. (Pages 37-44.)

(c) The occupation and defence of New York and Brooklyn, so promptly made, was
also an immediate strategic necessity, fully warranted by the existing conditions,
although alike temporary. (Pages 34-161.)]

An exhaustless theme may be so outlined that fairly stated data will suggest the
possibilities beyond.

Waterloo is incidentally related to the crowning laurels of Wellington; but,
primarily, to the downfall of Napoleon, while rarely to the assured growth of genuine
popular liberty.

No battle during the American Rebellion of 1861-65 was so really decisive as was
the first battle of Bull’s Run. As that Federal failure enforced the issue which
freed four millions of people from slavery, and had its sequence and culmination,
through great struggle, in a perpetuated Union, so did the battle of Bunker Hill open
wide the breach between Great Britain and the Colonies, and render American
Independence inevitable.

The repulse of Howe at Breed’s Hill practically ejected him from Boston, enforced
his halt before Brooklyn, delayed him at White Plains, explained his hesitation at
Bound Brook, near Somerset Court-House, in 1777, as well as his sluggishness after
the battle of Brandywine, and equally induced his inaction at Philadelphia, in
1778.

Just as a similar resistance by Totleben at Sevastapol during the Crimean War
prolonged that struggle for twelve months, so did the hastily constructed earthworks
on Breed’s Hill forewarn the assailants that every ridge might serve as a fortress,
and every sand-hill become a cover, for a persistent and earnest foe.

Historical research and military criticism suggest few cases where so much has
been realized by the efforts of a few men, in a few hours, during the shelter of one
night, and by the light of one day.

The simple narrative has been the subject of much discussion. Its details have
been shaped and colored, with supreme regard for the special claims of preferred
candidates for distinction, until a plain consideration of the issue then made, from
a purely military point of view, as introductory to a detail of the battle itself,
cannot be barren of interest to the readers of a Magazine which treats largely of the
local history of Massachusetts.

The city of Boston was girdled by rapidly increasing earthworks. These were wholly
defensive, to resist assault from the British garrison, and not, at first, as cover
for a regular siege approach against the Island Post. They soon became a direct
agency to force the garrison to look to the sea alone for supplies or retreat.

Open war against Great Britain began with this environment of Boston. The
partially organized militia responded promptly to call.

The vivifying force of the struggle through Concord, Lexington, and West Cambridge
(Arlington now), had so quickened the rapidly augmenting body of patriots, that they
demanded offensive action and grew impatient for results. Having dropped fear of
British troops, as such, they held a strong purpose to achieve that complete
deliverance which their earnest resistance foreshadowed.

Lexington and Concord were, therefore, the exponents of that daring which made the
occupation and resistance of Breed’s Hill possible. The fancied invincibility of
British discipline went down before the rifles of farmers; but the quickening
sentiment, which gave nerve to the arm, steadiness to the heart, and force to the
blow, was one of those historic expressions of human will and faith, which, under
deep sense of wrong incurred and rights imperilled, overmasters discipline, and has
the method of an inspired madness. The moral force of the energizing passion became
overwhelming and supreme. No troops in the world, under similar conditions, could
have resisted the movement.

The opposing forces did not alike estimate the issue, or the relations of the
parties in interest. The troops sent forth to collect or destroy arms, rightfully in
the hands of their countrymen, and not to engage an enemy, were under an involuntary
restraint, which stripped them of real fitness to meet armed men, who were already on
fire with the conviction that the representatives of national force were employed to
destroy national life.

The ostensible theory of the Crown was to reconcile the Colonies. The actual
policy, and its physical demonstrations, repelled, and did not conciliate. Military
acts, easily done by the force in hand, were needlessly done. Military acts which
would be wise upon the basis of anticipated resistance were not done.

Threats and blows toward those not deemed capable of resistance were freely
expended. Operations of war, as against an organized and skilful enemy, were ignored.
But the legacies of English law and the inheritance of English liberty had vested in
the Colonies. Their eradication and their withdrawal were alike impossible. The time
had passed for compromise or limitation of their enjoyment. The filial relation
toward England was lost when it became that of a slave toward master, to be asserted
by force. This the Americans understood when they environed Boston. This the British
did not understand, until after the battle of Bunker Hill. The British worked as
against a mob of rebels. The Americans made common cause, “liberty or death,” against
usurpation and tyranny.

THE OUTLOOK.

Reference to map, “Boston and vicinity,” already used in the January number of
this Magazine to illustrate the siege of Boston, will give a clear impression of the
local surroundings, at the time of the American occupation of Charlestown Heights.
The value of that position was to be tested. The Americans had previously burned the
lighthouses of the harbor. The islands of the bay were already miniature fields of
conflict; and every effort of the garrison to use boats, and thereby secure the
needed supplies of beef, flour, or fuel, only developed a counter system of boat
operations, which neutralized the former and gradually limited the garrison to the
range of its guns. This close grasp of the land approaches to Boston, so persistently
maintained, stimulated the Americans to catch a tighter hold, and force the garrison
to escape by sea. The capture of that garrison would have placed unwieldy prisoners
in their hands and have made outside operations impossible, as well as any practical
disposition of the prisoners themselves, in treatment with Great Britain. Expulsion
was the purpose of the rallying people.

General Gage fortified Boston Neck as early as 1774, and the First Continental
Congress had promptly assured Massachusetts of its sympathy with her solemn protest
against that act. It was also the intention of General Gage to fortify Dorchester
Heights. Early in April, a British council of war, in which Clinton, Burgoyne, and
Percy took part, unanimously advised the immediate occupation of Dorchester, as both
indispensable to the protection of the shipping, and as assurance of access to the
country for indispensable supplies.

General Howe already appreciated the mistake of General Gage, in his expedition to
Concord, but still cherished such hope of an accommodation of the issue with the
Colonies that he postponed action until a peaceable occupation of Dorchester Heights
became impossible, and the growing earthworks of the besiegers already commanded
Boston Neck.

General Gage had also advised, and wisely, the occupation of Charlestown Heights,
as both necessary and feasible, without risk to Boston itself. He went so far as to
announce that, in case of overt acts of hostility to such occupation, by the citizens
of Charlestown, he would burn the town.

It was clearly sound military policy for the British to occupy both Dorchester and
Charlestown Heights, at the first attempt of the Americans to invest the city.

As early as the middle of May, the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, as well as
the council, had resolved “to occupy Bunker Hill as soon as artillery and powder
could be adequately furnished for the purpose,” and a committee was appointed to
examine and report respecting the merits of Dorchester Heights, as a strategic
restraint upon the garrison of Boston.

On the fifteenth of June, upon reliable information that the British had
definitely resolved to seize both Heights, and had designated the eighteenth of June
for the occupation of Charlestown, the same Committee of Safety voted “to take
immediate possession of Bunker Bill.”

Mr. Bancroft states that “the decision was so sudden that no fit preparation could
be made,” Under the existing conditions, it was indeed a desperate daring, expressive
of grand faith and self-devotion, worthy of the cause in peril, and only limited in
its immediate and assured triumph by the simple lack of powder.

Prescott, who was eager to lead the enterprise and was entrusted with its
execution, and Putman, who gave it his most ardent support, were most urgent that the
council should act promptly; while Warren, who long hesitated to concur, did at last
concur, and gave his life as the test of his devotion. General Ward realized fully
that the hesitation of the British to emerge from Boston and attack the Americans was
an index of the security of the American defences, and, therefore, deprecated the
contingency of a general engagement, until ample supplies of powder could be
secured.

The British garrison, which had been reinforced to a nominal strength of ten
thousand men, had become reduced, through inadequate supplies, especially of fresh
meat, to eight thousand effectives, but these men were well officered and well
disciplined.

THE POSITION.

Bunker Hill had an easy slope to the isthmus, but was quite steep on either side,
having, in fact, control of the isthmus, as well as commanding a full view of Boston
and the surrounding country. Morton’s Hill, at Moulton’s Point, where the British
landed, was but thirty-five feet above sea level, while Breed’s Pasture (as then
known) and Bunker Hill were, respectively, seventy-five and one hundred and ten feet
high. The Charles and Mystic Rivers, which flanked Charlestown, were navigable, and
were under the control of the British ships-of-war.

AMERICAN POLICY.

To so occupy Charlestown, in advance, as to prevent a successful British landing,
required the use of the nearest available position that would make the light
artillery of the Americans effective. To occupy Bunker Hill, alone, would leave to
the British the cover of Breed’s Hill, under which to gain effective fire and a good
base for approach, as well as Charlestown for quarters, without prejudice to
themselves.

When, therefore, Breed’s Hill was fortified as an advanced position, it was done
with the assurance that reinforcements would soon occupy the retired summit, and the
course adopted was the best to prevent an effective British lodgment. The previous
reluctance of the garrison to make any effective demonstration against the thin lines
of environment strengthened the belief of the Americans that a well-selected hold
upon Charlestown Heights would securely tighten the grasp upon the city itself.

BRITISH POLICY.

As a fact, the British contempt for the Americans might have urged them as rashly
against Bunker Hill as it did against the redoubt which they gained, at last, only
through failure of the ammunition of its defenders; but, in view of the few hours at
disposal of the Americans to prepare against a landing so soon to be attempted, it is
certain that the defences were well placed, both to cover the town and force an
immediate issue before the British could increase their own force.

It is equally certain that the British utterly failed to appreciate the fact that,
with the control of the Mystic and Charles Rivers, they could, within twenty-four
hours, so isolate Charlestown as to secure the same results as by storming the
American position, and without appreciable loss. This was the advice of General
Clinton, but he was overruled. They did, ultimately, thereby check reinforcements,
but suffered so severely in the battle itself that fully two thirds of the Americans
retired safely to the main land.

The delay of the British to advance as soon as the landing was effected was bad
tactics. One half of the force could have followed the Mystic and turned the American
left wing, long before Colonel Stark’s command came upon the field. The British dined
as leisurely as if they had only to move any time and seize the threatening position,
and thereby lost their chief opportunity.

One single sign of the recognition of any possible risk-to themselves was the
opening of fire from Boston Neck and such other positions as faced the American
lines, as if to warn them not to attempt the city, or endanger their own lives by
sending reinforcements to Charlestown.

THE MOVEMENT.

It is not the purpose of this article to elaborate the details of preparation,
which have been so fully discussed by many writers, but to illustrate the value of
the action in the light of the relations and conduct of the opposing forces.

Colonel William Prescott, of Pepperell, Massachusetts, Colonel James Frye, of
Andover, and Colonel Ebenezer Bridge, of Billerica, whose regiments formed most of
the original detail, were members of the council of war which had been organized on
the twentieth of April, when General Ward assumed command of the army. Colonel Thomas
Knowlton, of Putnam’s regiment, was to lead a detachment from the Connecticut troops.
Colonel Richard Gridley, chief engineer, with a company of artillery, was also
assigned to the moving columns.

To ensure a force of one thousand men, the field order covered nearly fourteen
hundred, and Mr. Frothingham shows clearly that the actual force as organized, with
artificers and drivers of carts, was not less than twelve hundred men.

Cambridge Common was the place of rendezvous, where, at early twilight of June 16,
the Reverend Samuel Langdon, president of Harvard College, invoked the blessing of
Almighty God upon the solemn undertaking.

This silent body of earnest men crossed Charlestown Neck, and halted for a clear
definition of the impending duty. Major Brooks, of Colonel Dodge’s regiment, joined
here, as well as a company of artillery. Captain Nutting, with a detachment of
Connecticut men, was promptly sent, by the quickest route, to patrol Charlestown, at
the summit of Bunker Hill. Captain Maxwell’s company, of Prescott’s regiment, was
next detailed to patrol the shore in silence and keenly note any activity on board
the British men-of-war.

The six vessels lying in the stream were the Somerset, sixty-eight, Captain Edward
Le Cross; Cerberus, thirty-six, Captain Chads; Glasgow, thirty-four, Captain William
Maltby; Lively, twenty, Captain Thomas Bishop; Falcon, twenty, Captain Linzee, and
the Symmetry, transport, with eighteen guns.

While one thousand men worked upon the redoubt which had been located under
counsel of Gridley, Prescott, Knowlton, and other officers, the dull thud of the
pickaxe and the grating of shovels were the only sounds that disturbed the pervading
silence, except as the sentries’ “All’s well!” from Copp’s Hill and from the
warships, relieved anxiety and stimulated work. Prescott and Putnam alike, and more
than once, visited the beach, to be assured that the seeming security was real; and
at daybreak the redoubt, nearly eight rods square and six feet high, was nearly
complete.

Scarcely had objects become distinct, when the battery on Copp’s Hill and the guns
of the Lively opened fire, and startled the garrison of Boston from sleep, to a
certainty that the Colonists had taken the offensive.

General Putnam reached headquarters at a very early hour, and secured the detail
of a portion of Colonel Stark’s regiment, to reinforce the first detail which had
already occupied the Hill.

At nine o’clock, a council of war was held at Breed’s Hill. Major John Brooks was
sent to ask for more men and more rations. Richard Devens, of the Committee of
Safety, then in session, was influential in persuading General Ward to furnish prompt
reinforcements. By eleven o’clock, the whole of Stark’s and Reed’s New Hampshire
regiments were on their march, and in time to meet the first shock of battle.
Portions of other regiments hastened to the aid of those already waiting for the
fight to begin.

The details of men were not exactly defined, in all cases, when the urgent call
for reinforcements reached headquarters. Little’s regiment of Essex men; Brewer’s, of
Worcester and Middlesex, with their Lieutenant-Colonel Buckminster; Nixon’s, led by
Nixon himself; Moore’s, from Worcester; Whitcomb’s, of Lancaster, and others,
promptly accepted the opportunity to take part in the offensive, and challenge the
British garrison to a contest-at-arms, and well they bore their part in the
struggle.

THE AMERICAN POSITION.

The completion of the redoubt only made more distinct the necessity for additional
defences. A line of breastworks, a few rods in length, was carried to the left, and
then to the rear, in order to connect with a stone fence which was accepted as a part
of the line, since the fence ran perpendicularly to the Mystic; and the intention was
to throw some protection across the entire peninsula to the river. A small pond and
some spongy ground were left open, as non-essential, considering the value of every
moment; and every exertion was made for the protection [pg 297] of the immediate front. The
stone fence, like those still common in New England, was two or three feet high, with
set posts and two rails; in all, about five feet high, the top rail giving a rest for
a rifle. A zigzag “stake and rider fence” was put in front, the meadow
division-fences being stripped for the purpose. The fresh-mown hay filled the
interval between the fences. This line was nearly two hundred yards in rear of the
face of the redoubt, and near the foot of Bunker Hill. Captain Knowlton, with two
pieces of artillery and Connecticut troops, was assigned, by Colonel Prescott, to the
right of this position, adjoining the open gap already mentioned. Between the fence
and the river, more conspicuous at low tide, was a long gap, which was promptly
filled by Stark as soon as he reached the ground, thus, as far as possible, to
anticipate the very flanking movement which the British afterward attempted.

Putnam was everywhere active, and, after the fences were as well secured as time
would allow, he ordered the tools taken to Bunker Hill for the establishment of a
second line on higher ground, in case the first could not be maintained. His
importunity with General Ward had secured the detail of the whole of Reed’s, as well
as the balance of Stark’s, regiment, so that the entire left was protected by New
Hampshire troops. With all their energy they were able to gather from the shore only
stone enough for partial cover, while they lay down, or kneeled, to fire.

The whole force thus spread out to meet the British army was less than sixteen
hundred men. Six pieces of artillery were in use at different times, but with little
effect. The cannon cartridges were at last distributed for the rifles, and five of
the guns were left on the field when retreat became inevitable.

Reference to the map will indicate the position thus outlined. It was evident that
the landing could not be prevented. Successive barges landed the well-equipped
troops, and they took their positions, and their dinner, under the blaze of the hot
sun, as if nothing but ordinary duty was awaiting their leisure.

THE BRITISH ADVANCE.

It was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon when the British army formed for the
advance. General Howe was expected to break and envelop the American left wing, take
the redoubt in the rear, and cut off retreat to Bunker Hill and the mainland. The
light infantry moved closely along the Mystic. The grenadiers advanced upon the stone
fence, while the British left demonstrated toward the unprotected gap which was
between the fence and the short breastwork next the redoubt. General Pigot with the
extreme left wing moved directly upon the redoubt. The British artillery had been
supplied with twelve-pound shot for six-pounder guns, and, thus disabled, were
ordered to use only grape. The guns were, therefore, advanced to the edge of an old
brick-kiln, as the spongy ground and heavy grass did not permit ready handling of
guns at the foot of the hill slope, or even just at its left. This secured a more
effective range of fire upon the skeleton defences of the American centre, and an
eligible position for a direct fire upon the exposed portion of the American front,
and both breastwork and redoubt.

The advance of the British army was like a solemn pageant in its steady headway,
and like a parade for inspection in its completeness. This army, bearing knapsacks
and full campaign equipment, moved forward as if, by the force of its closely knit
columns, it must sweep every barrier away. But, right in the way was a calm, intense
love of liberty. It was represented by men of the same blood and of equal daring.

A strong contrast marked the opposing Englishmen that summer afternoon. The plain
men handled plain firelocks. Oxhorns held their powder, and their pockets held their
bullets. Coatless, under the broiling sun, unincumbered, unadorned by plume or
service medal, pale and wan after their night of toil and their day of hunger,
thirst, and waiting, this live obstruction calmly faced the advancing splendor.

A few hasty shots, quickly restrained, drew an innocent fire from the British
front rank. The pale, stern men behind the slight defence, obedient to a strong will,
answer not to the quick volley, and nothing to the audible commands of the advancing
columns,—waiting, still.

No painter can make the scene more clear than the recital of sober deposition, and
the record left by survivors of either side. History has no contradictions to confuse
the realities of that momentous tragedy.

The British left wing is near the redoubt. It has only to mount a fresh earthbank,
hardly six feet high, and its clods and sands can almost be counted,—it is so
near, so easy—sure.

Short, crisp, and earnest, low-toned, but felt as an electric pulse, are the words
of Prescott. Warren, by his side, repeats. The words fly through the impatient lines.
The eager fingers give back from the waiting trigger. “Steady, men.” “Wait until you
see the white of the eye.” “Not a shot sooner.” “Aim at the handsome coats.” “Aim at
the waistbands.” “Pick off the commanders.” “Wait for the word, every
man,—steady.”

Those plain men, so patient, can already count the buttons, can read the emblems
on the breastplate, can recognize the officers and men whom they had seen parade on
Boston Common. Features grow more distinct. The silence is awful. The men seem
dead—waiting for one word. On the British right the light infantry gain equal
advance just as the left wing almost touched the redoubt. Moving over more level
ground, they quickly made the greater distance, and passed the line of those who
marched directly up the hill. The grenadiers moved firmly upon the centre, with equal
confidence, and space lessens to that which the spirit of the impending word defines.
That word waits behind the centre and left wing, as it lingers at breastwork and
redoubt. Sharp, clear, and deadly in tone and essence, it rings
forth,—Fire!

THE REPULSE.

From redoubt to river, along the whole sweep of devouring flame, the forms of men
wither as in a furnace heat. The whole front goes down. For an instant the chirp of
the cricket and grasshopper in the fresh-mown hay might almost be heard; then the
groans of the wounded, then the shouts of impatient yeomen who spring forth to
pursue, until recalled to silence and duty. Staggering, but reviving, grand in the
glory of their manhood, heroic in restored self-possession, with steady step in the
face of fire, and over the bodies of the dead, the British remnant renew battle.
Again, a deadly volley, and the shattered columns, in spite of entreaty or command,
speed back to the place of landing, and the first shock of arms is over.

A lifetime, when it is past, is but as a moment. A moment, sometimes, is as a
lifetime. Onset and repulse. Three hundred lifetimes ended in twenty minutes.

Putnam hastened to Bunker Hill to gather scattering parties in the rear and urge
coming reinforcements across the isthmus, where the fire from British frigates swept
with fearful energy, but nothing could bring them in time. The men who had toiled all
night, and had just proved their valor, were again to be tested.

The British reformed promptly, in the perfection of their discipline. Their
artillery was pushed forward nearer the angle made by the breastwork next the
redoubt, and the whole line advanced, deployed as before, across the entire American
front. The ships-of-war increased their fire across the isthmus. Charlestown had been
fired, and more than four hundred houses kindled into one vast wave of smoke and
flame, until a sudden breeze swept its quivering volume away and exposed to view of
the watchful Americans the returning tide of battle. No scattering shots in advance
this time. It is only when a space of hardly five rods is left, and a swift plunge
could almost forerun the rifle flash, that the word of execution impels the bullet,
and the entire front rank, from redoubt to river, is swept away. Again, and again,
the attempt is made to rally and inspire the paralyzed troops; but the living tide
flows back, even to the river.

Another twenty minutes,—hardly twenty-five,—and the death angel has
gathered his sheaves of human hopes, as when the Royal George went down beneath the
waters with its priceless value of human lives.

At the first repulse the thirty-eighth regiment took shelter by a stone fence,
along the road which passes about the base of Breed’s Hill; but at the second
repulse, supported by the fifth, it reorganized, just under the advanced crest of
Breed’s Hill for a third advance.

It was an hour of grave issues. Burgoyne, who watched the progress from Copp’s
Hill, says: “A moment of the day was critical.”

Stedman says: “A continuous blaze of musketry, incessant and destructive.”

Gordon says: “The British officers pronounced it downright butchery to lead the
men afresh against those lines.”

Ramsay says: “Of one company not more than five, and of another not more than
fourteen, escaped.”

Lossing says: “Whole platoons were lain upon the earth, like grass by the mower’s
scythe.”

Marshall says: “The British line, wholly broken, fell back with precipitation to
the landing-place.”

Frothingham quotes this statement of a British officer: “Most of our grenadiers
and light infantry, the moment they presented themselves, lost three fourths, and
many nine tenths, of their men. Some had only eight and nine men to a company left,
some only three, four, and five.”

Botta says: “A shower of bullets. The field was covered with the slain.”

Bancroft says: “A continuous sheet of fire.”

Stark says: “The dead lay as thick as sheep in a fold.”

It was, indeed, a strange episode in British history, in view of the British
assertion of assured supremacy, whenever an issue challenged that supremacy.

Clinton and Burgoyne, watching from the redoubt on Copp’s Hill, realized at once
the gravity of the situation, and Clinton promptly offered his aid to rescue the
army.

Four hundred additional marines and the forty-seventh regiment were promptly
landed. This fresh force, under Clinton, was ordered to flank the redoubt and scale
its face to the extreme left. General Howe, with the grenadiers and light infantry,
supported by the artillery, undertook the storming of the breastworks, bending back
from the mouth of the redoubt, and so commanding the centre entrance.

General Pigot was ordered to rally the remnants of the fifth, thirty-eighth,
forty-third, and fifty-second regiments, to connect the two wings, and attack the
redoubt in front.

A mere demonstration was ordered upon the American left, while the artillery was
to advance a few rods and then swing to its left, so as to sweep the breastwork for
Howe’s advance.

THE ASSAULT.

The dress parade movement of the first advance was not repeated. A contest between
equals was at hand. Victory or ruin was the alternative for those who so proudly
issued from the Boston barracks at sunrise for the suppression of pretentious
rebellion. Knapsacks were thrown aside. British veterans stripped for fight. Not a
single regiment of those engaged had passed such a fearful ordeal in its whole
history as a single hour had witnessed. The power of discipline, the energy of
experienced commanders, and the pressure of honored antecedents, combined to make the
movement as trying as it was momentous.

The Americans were no less under a solemn responsibility. At the previous attack,
some loaded while others fired, so that the expenditure of powder was great, almost
exhaustive. The few remaining cannon cartridges were economically distributed. There
was no longer a possibility of reinforcements. The fire from the shipping swept the
isthmus. There were less than fifty bayonets to the entire command.

During the afternoon Ward sent his own regiment, as well as Patterson’s and
Gardner’s, but few men reached the actual front in time to share in the last
resistance. Gardner did, indeed, reach Bunker Hill to aid Putnam in establishing a
second line on that summit, but fell in the discharge of the duty. Febiger,
previously conspicuous at Quebec, and afterward at Stony Point, gathered a portion of
Gerrishe’s regiment, and reached the redoubt in time to share in the final struggle;
but the other regiments, without their fault, were too late.

At this time, Putnam seemed to appreciate the full gravity of the crisis, and made
the most of every available resource to concentrate a reserve for a second defence,
but in vain.

Prescott, within the redoubt, at once recognized the method of the British
advance. The wheel of the British artillery to the left after it passed the line of
the redoubt, secured to it an enfilading fire, which insured the reduction of the
redoubt and cut off retreat. There was no panic at that hour of supreme peril. The
order to reserve fire until the enemy was within twenty yards was obediently
regarded, and it was not until a pressure upon three faces of the redoubt forced the
last issue, that the defenders poured forth one more destructive volley. A single
cannon cartridge was distributed for the final effort, and then, with clubbed guns
and the nerve of desperation, the slow retreat began, contesting, man to man and inch
by inch. Warren fell, shot through the head, in the mouth of the fort.

The battle was not quite over, even then. Jackson rallied Gardner’s men on Bunker
Hill, and with three companies of Ward’s regiment and Febiger’s party, so covered the
retreat as to save half of the garrison. The New Hampshire troops of Stark and Reed,
with Colt’s and Chester’s companies, still held the fence line clear to the river,
and covered the escape of Prescott’s command until the last cartridge had been
expended, and then their deliberate, well-ordered retreat bore testimony alike to
their virtue and valor.

THE END.

Putnam made one final effort at Bunker Hill, but in vain, and the army retired to
Prospect Hill, which Putnam had already fortified in advance.

The British did not pursue, Clinton urged upon General Howe an immediate attack
upon Cambridge; but Howe declined the movement. The gallant Prescott offered to
retake Bunker Hill by storming if he could have three fresh regiments; but it was not
deemed best to waste further resources at the time.

Such, as briefly as it can be clearly outlined, was the battle of Bunker Hill.

Nearly one third of each army was left on the field.

The British loss was nineteen officers killed and seventy wounded, itself a
striking evidence of the prompt response to Prescott’s orders before the action
began. Of rank and file, two hundred and seven were killed and seven hundred and
fifty-eight were wounded. Total, ten hundred and fifty-four.

The American loss was one hundred and forty-five killed and missing, and three
hundred and four wounded. Total, four hundred and forty-nine.

Such is the record of a battle which, in less than two hours, destroyed a town,
laid fifteen hundred men upon the field, equalized the relations of veterans and
militia, aroused three millions of people to a definite struggle for National
Independence, and fairly opened the war for its accomplishment.

NOTES.

NOTE 1. The hasty organization of the command is marked by one feature not often
regarded, and that is the readiness with which men of various regiments enlisted in
the enterprise. Washington, in his official report of the casualties, thus specifies
the loss:—

NOTE 2. The record, brief as it is, shows that hot controversies as to the
question of precedence in command are beneath the merits of the struggle, because all
worked just where the swift transitions of the crisis best commanded presence and
influence.

NOTE 3. As both the Morton and Moulton families had property near the British
landing-place, it is immaterial whether hill or point bear the name of one or the
other. Hence the author of this sketch, in a memorial examination of this battle,
elsewhere, deemed it but just to recognize both, without attempt to harmonize
differences upon an immaterial matter.

NOTE 4. The occupation of Lechmere Point, Cobble Hill, Ploughed Hill, and Prospect
Hill, as shown upon the map of Boston and vicinity, rendered the British occupation
of Bunker Hill a barren victory, silenced the activity of a thousand men, vindicated
the wisdom of the American occupation, however transient, rescued Boston, and
projected the spirit of the battle of Bunker Hill into all the issues which
culminated at Yorktown, October 19, 1781.

THE YOUNG MEN’S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATIONS OF MASSACHUSETTS.

By Russell Sturgis, Jr.

In the sketch of the Boston Association, which appeared in the April number of
this Magazine, mention was made of the work of Mr. L.P. Rowland, corresponding member
of Massachusetts of the international committee, in establishing kindred associations
throughout the State, This article is to give a brief history of the spread and work
of these associations, and I am largely indebted to Mr. Sayford, late state
secretary, for the data. It was natural that as soon as it was known that an
organization had been formed in Boston to do distinctive work for young men, that in
other places where the need was realized the desire for a like work should spring up;
but, in the absence of organized effort to promote this, very little was done, and in
1856, five years after the parent association was formed, there were only six in all,
that is, in Boston, Charlestown, Worcester, Lowell, Springfield, and Haverhill.

In December, 1866, the Boston Association called a convention, when twelve hundred
delegates met and sat for two days at the Tremont Temple. General Christian work was
discussed, but the distinctive work for young men was earnestly advocated.

When Mr. Rowland undertook the work, as an officer of the international committee,
it spread rapidly, and in 1868 there were one hundred and two, and in 1869, one
hundred and nine, associations in Massachusetts. This number was, later, somewhat
further increased.

Up to 1867 there had been no conference of the state associations, but at the
international convention, at Montreal, in that year, it was strongly urged upon the
corresponding members of the various States and provinces that they should call state
conventions, and thus the first Massachusetts convention of Young Men’s Christian
Associations was held [pg
303] at Springfield, October 10 and 11. The Honorable Whiting Griswold, of
Greenfield, was president, and among the prominent men present were Henry F. Durant
and ex-Vice-President Wilson. In 1868, the convention met at Worcester; in 1869, at
Lowell. At this time there were fifty associations reporting reading-rooms, and
thirty were holding open-air meetings, which means, that, since there are many
persons who never enter a building to hear the gospel, it should be taken to them.
Since these services are almost peculiarly a characteristic of association work, let
me describe them. One or two men, clergymen or laymen, are appointed to take charge
of the meeting, while from six to ten men go with them to lead the singing. Having
reached the common or public square where men and women are lounging about, the group
start a familiar hymn and sing, perhaps, two or three, by which time many have drawn
near and most are listening; then mounting a bench or packing-box, the leader says he
proposes to pray to the God of whom they have been singing, and asks them to join
with him; then with uncovered head he speaks to God and asks him to bless the words
that shall be spoken. Another hymn, and then some Bible scene or striking incident is
read and commented upon, and when interest is fairly roused the gospel is preached
in its simplicity and a direct appeal made to the people. There is a
wonderful fascination in this service—a naturalness in all the surroundings, so
like the circumstances of our Lord’s discourses, that makes God’s nearness felt, and
inspires great faith for results. Great have been these results—how great we
shall know by-and-by. Many a soul has thus been born by the sea, in the grove, on the
village green, at the place where streets meet in the busy city. How can we reach the
masses? is the earnest question of the church. Go to them! To the association
is due the fact that thousands of laymen are to-day proclaiming the gospel in all
parts of the world, successful through their simple study of the Word and the
encouragement and training which they have received in this school.

The fourth convention was held in Chelsea, in 1870, on which occasion the
Honorable Cephas Brainard, chairman of the international executive committee, said:
“To promote the permanency of associations, our labor must be chiefly for young men;
increasing as rapidly as possible edifices of our own; and cultivating frequent
fraternal intercourse with the eight hundred associations in the land.” Up to 1881 no
agents had been appointed by the state convention to superintend its work. Mr.
Rowland was taking time, given him for rest, to visit associations and towns needing
them.

At the international convention, in 1868, at Detroit, two Massachusetts men met,
who were to be largely instrumental in carrying on the work in the State so dear to
them; and in 1871, in far-off Illinois, these two men—K.A. Burnell, and he who
has almost without a break served on the Massachusetts committee to this
day—met again, prayed for Massachusetts, consulted together, and the result was
that at the convention of 1871, at Northampton, a state executive committee was
appointed.

At this time calls from many parts of the State were coming to the association
workers from pastors of churches for lay help and they felt that these calls must be
met. Mr. Burnell was engaged to conduct the work, and with the help of the committee
individually, meetings of two and three days were held in from forty to sixty towns
each year for three years. This work was continued by paid secretaries, still largely
aided by the committee, till 1879.

During this time but little was done to strengthen existing associations, and
nothing in establishing new ones, therefore, while the influence of the convention of
associations was greatly felt throughout the State, the associations themselves
suffered. Very many were doing nothing, and many had ceased to exist.

We should not dare to say that the associations did wrong in thus giving
themselves to the evangelistic work, while the calls for it were greater than the
committee could meet. This work engrossed them till the calls began to slacken, and
then they awoke to the fact that they were neglecting their true work, a special
instrumentality in which they believed and for which they existed—that is, “A
work for young men by young men through physical, social, mental, and spiritual
appliances.”

This led to a series of resolutions at the Lowell convention, in 1879, directing
the committee to confine their efforts to the strengthening and organizing of
associations, and to appoint a secretary to give his whole time to the work.

Mr. Sayford was called from New York, appointed general secretary, and began to
work in January, 1880.

At this time there were thirty-five associations in the State, only four of which
had general secretaries, paid men who gave all their time to the work.

In October, the number of secretaries had more than doubled, nine being at work.
The total membership at this time was, in round numbers, six thousand, with property
amounting to about two hundred and ten thousand dollars.

The thirty-three associations which reported at this time at the Lynn convention
represented somewhat more than five hundred active working men, and they conducted
one hundred and ten religious meetings a week.

In 1881, the only addition of note was the beginning of the railway work in the
State, when a general secretary was employed, and rooms opened at Springfield by the
Boston and Albany Railroad Company. This important work, carried on most vigorously
at various railway centres in other States, had for some time been pressed upon the
state committee, but they had been unable to obtain any footing till now. At the
convention of this year, at Spencer, the advantage of association work in colleges
was brought out in an able paper by our present state secretary, then a
representative of Williams College.

At this convention the committee on executive committee’s report said: “It is
evident from the reports of executive committee and state secretary, that, while the
process of the last two years has decreased the number of the associations in the
State, it has greatly increased their efficiency. Some associations were found to
have been long since privately buried, though the name was allowed to remain upon the
door. These have been removed. Others had been left to die uncared for in the field.
These have been decently buried. Some were found so sick as to be past hope, and
their last days were made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. Others
were found to be more or less seriously ill, and have been skilfully treated. The
result is that at least twenty-four associations are well, and could do much more
work if they chose; while ten, in robust condition, and under the management and
inspiration of skilled general secretaries, are doing grand work for young men in
their several localities.”

The reduction here spoken of is from one hundred and nine associations in 1869 to
thirty-four in 1881; yet the work was being better done by the smaller number, and it
is thus accounted for: Few dreamed to what this work would grow, therefore their aim
was extremely vague, and the methods were inadequate. Seeing the need,—deeply
interested in the salvation of young men,—the idea of the association
took everywhere. They sprang up all over the State. Organization followed
organization in rapid succession, and then they waited to be told what to do, or
flung themselves into the first seeming opening with no thought whether it was the
work for which they were formed; and we remember of hearing of one Young Men’s
Christian Association whose whole energies were concentrated upon a mission
Sunday-school in a deserted district,—a good work, but not a proper Young Men’s
Christian Association’s work, when it represented all that was being done.

Two things, however, were accomplished, even in those early days, for which we
must always be very grateful, and in themselves are a sufficient raison d’etre.
Young men were trained to work, and the reflex influence upon their minds was
very great, and the real unity of the church of Christ was manifested as never
before. The Young Men’s Christian Association in town and village formed the natural
rallying-point for all united work. A third great blessing should be mentioned. Not
only has the unity of Christ’s church been manifested, but also its distinctive
standing upon the great Bible doctrines of the cross, which vitally separate it from
all other religious bodies.

Gradually the greatness of this work for young men has been appreciated, as the
strong opposing forces have been met. The association is intended to influence those
who are in the energy and full flush of young manhood, when the desires are strong,
most responsive, and least guarded. The social instinct then is very strong. It is
natural, and must be met in some form. Sinful allurements of every kind invite the
young man, hurtful companionship welcomes him, the ordinary appliances of the church
have no attraction for him. The association must see to it that his social craving is
met by that which is interesting enough to attract him, and yet is safe. To
counteract baleful attractions, others which call forth strong sympathy, and
appliances which cost, in every sense of the word, must be furnished.

This means pleasant rooms, books, papers, good companionship, classes, lectures,
concerts, the hall, and the gymnasium; but more important than all, a trained man who
shall give his whole time and heart to the work, and be amply remunerated.

Since these things are more or less necessary to successful effort for young men,
it will readily be seen why so many associations have ceased to exist.

The committee have come to the conclusion that every town in the State where rooms
can be kept open in charge of a general secretary should have a Young Men’s Christian
Association, and where these cannot be furnished we are not anxious to establish
it.

At the convention of 1882, in Charlestown, it became apparent that, to meet the
calls for evangelistic work and push the distinctive association work, two men were
required. Two, therefore, were appointed: one to give his time largely to
evangelistic work, the other wholly to that of the association. In the following
year, 1883, the evangelistic secretary decided to do the same work independently of
the committee, and the whole energy of the state secretary has been devoted to the
organization of association work.

We may safely say that, although numerically small, never before has this work
been so efficiently organized as now, and never has there been so much done as now
for young men. At the convention of 1881, a constitution was adopted which binds the
different state associations in organic union. These hold an annual convention of
three days, at which time one half of the executive committee is chosen, thus making
it a perpetual body. This committee represents every section of the State, and meets
monthly for consultation; while the individual members are means of communication
between headquarters in Boston and other respective sections. There is a further
subdivision into three districts, each of which holds a quarterly conference of one
day, under the management of the district committee.

The associations now number 35.

Membership, about 11,300.

Employing general secretaries, 19.

Having buildings, 7.

Value of buildings, say, $490,000.

Value of building funds and lots, $50,000.

Having rooms, 23.

Having gymnasiums, 8.

Annual expenses, about $65,000.

This is only a beginning. This work for young men is far too important to remain
within such limits. Every town in the Commonwealth of seven thousand inhabitants
should have a fully equipped association. Some smaller towns already have.

My excuse for this sketch is: first, the importance of the subject; second, the
ignorance concerning it of a large portion of the Christian community; third, that
the blessings of the work and its support may be shared by far greater numbers; and,
lastly, that the courtesy of the editors of The Bay State Monthly afforded altogether
too good an opportunity for making this work known, to be lost.

TOWN AND CITY HISTORIES.

By Robert Luce.

The United States government has now in press two volumes of the census of 1880,
entitled The Social Statistics of Cities. These statistics have been in process of
preparation for some four years, under direction of Colonel George E. Waring, jr.,
the eminent sanitary engineer, of Newport, Rhode Island. They will fill two large
quarto volumes of something over six hundred pages each; and as each page will
average over one thousand words, it will be seen that the work will, at least, be
massive and imposing, like most government publications. Unlike many of these,
however, it will not be dull, unintelligible, or valueless. The fact that one half of
it is devoted to the history of the cities of our land is well-nigh sufficient proof
that these epithets cannot be applied to it, and the question is settled beyond a
doubt when it is learned that the greater part of the labor has been performed by
people who are well known in the literary world, and who brought to their task
experience and ability,—rare qualifications to be found combined in government
employees. Colonel Waring himself, though a clear thinker and good writer, furnished
comparatively little manuscript to the volumes, but he has revised them thoroughly,
and has stamped them with his individuality.

It was Colonel Waring’s original design to embrace in his work the statistics of
the twenty largest cities of the country, and these happened to be the cities that in
1880 had more than one hundred thousand inhabitants. Then it was decided to allow the
smaller cities to be represented if they chose, and early in the work steps were
taken to induce them to furnish the necessary material. Over two hundred of the
largest were given all the opportunities for representation that could be asked for,
and, as a consequence, nearly every community in the land containing more than ten
thousand inhabitants has a more or less full account. Each one of these is prefaced
by a small outline plan, on which is marked the direction in which the surrounding
cities lie, and the distance to each. Accompanying this plan are tables of the
population at different decades, and of the sex, color, and nativity of the present
population. Then comes an historical sketch, and then an account of the present
condition of the community. This last describes the location and topography fully;
gives the principal features of the country immediately tributary; details the
facilities for communication given by railroads and by water; gives statistics about
the climate; describes the public buildings and public works, including water and gas
works; gives figures about the streets, horse railroads, and markets; touches upon
the places and methods of amusement, and the parks and pleasure-grounds; the sewers,
the cemeteries, sanitary organization (boards of health), and the system, or lack of
system, of municipal cleansing,—all receive especially full treatment, as would
naturally be expected when a sanitary engineer of Colonel Waring’s stamp had charge
of the work; the police department gets its share of the space; and in some cases the
schools, fire department, and commerce are represented. The material from which these
accounts were compiled was, in the main, obtained by sending schedules of questions
to the various town and city officials; in the case of some of the largest cities the
material was secured by special agents, but in general, the desire of the cities to
be represented was considered sufficient guaranty that the schedule would be filled
out fully and accurately, and this generally proved to be the case.

The historical sketches of the smaller cities and towns were compiled from
information obtained in the same way, and from gazetteers, encyclopaedias, town and
city histories, and all other sources available at the headquarters of the bureau. To
the preparation of the sketches of the twenty largest cities, especial attention was
devoted, and the results have been correspondingly valuable. Perhaps the most
important, both from the historical and literary point of view, will be the sketch of
the history of New Orleans, written by George W. Cable, who is better known as a
novelist, but who has no mean abilities as an historian. His familiarity with the
Creole element in New Orleans past and present, together with a very happy style of
writing, have made for him more than a national reputation, from which this sketch
will not detract. Originally his work was intended to occupy some ninety pages of the
report, but later, unfortunately, it had to be condensed into fifty. Luckily it will
not be found necessary to omit a number of interesting maps that accompany it.

Next in value, perhaps from the purely historical point of view the most valuable,
or at least the most complete, of all, comes the sketch of the early history of St.
Louis, by Professor Waterhouse. The author became greatly interested in his task, and
spent a vast amount of time in collecting materials for it. From the care bestowed on
the work, it may be taken for granted that this will be as full and accurate an
account of the settlement and early history of the “Philadelphia of the West” as can
possibly be compiled. It is expected that it will occupy fifty or sixty pages of the
report, and even then it will only bring the history down to 1823, when the first
city government was organized.

The largest of the Eastern cities furnish little chance for original work in an
historical line, but yet the sketch of New York by Martha J. Lamb, of Philadelphia by
Susan Cooledge, and of Boston by Colonel Waring, will be acceptable additions to the
very scanty stock of American historical literature.

The words “very scanty” are used most advisedly, for in very truth the American
historian is a rara avis. Of American compilers-of-facts, to be sure,
there have been and are very many, but an aggregation of details is not a history,
nor can a man who makes a book out of local gossip and the biographies of local
heroes and heroines be called an historian. The truth of this fact has been most
forcibly impressed on the writer in the course of preparing for the Census Bureau
historical sketches of many of the leading cities of the country, and he has become
thoroughly convinced that of all the vulnerable portions of American literature that
which pertains to the history of American towns and cities is the most
vulnerable.

In the first place, American town and city histories are few. In the second
place, the books that pretend to be such are many, and as a rule historically
worthless. In the third place, both the real and the sham are intensely dull.

Real histories are few, evidently because there is not demand enough to encourage
historians to enter the field, and not because material is lacking. With the
exception of the Atlantic seaboard, our country has been developed in an age
pre-eminent for records and statistics; and there is scarcely a town or city in the
land that has not its records and its public documents, its newspaper files and its
Fourth-of-July orations,—all replete with information waiting for the
historian. Nearly every State has its Historical Society, and Pioneer Associations
are as plenty in our glorious West as was the fever and ague with which their members
were baptized. If the golden opportunities of autobiography are lost, the American
historian of the future will have to be satisfied, as must be satisfied the New
England historian of to-day, with the meagre, lifeless information given by records,
and the hyperbolical, untrustworthy knowledge to be obtained from local tradition and
gossip.

We need go no farther to find the first reason why American histories are so
meagre and dull. They are not pictures from life. The fact is, that the historian
might as well try to write a valuable and interesting history from the materials
which our older cities possess, as a painter might try to paint the battle of Crecy
from the details given by Froissart. To be sure we have all seen such pictures, but
who has more than admired them?

The absence of contemporaneous literature has been the greatest misfortune of all
history. Every student knows how great and deplorable are the breaks constantly met
with in tracing the thread of past events. Shall we, then, let the students of
posterity remain in the dark on such questions as these: why Providence became the
second city of New England; why she left Newport so badly in the race for prosperity;
why Buffalo and Cincinnati went up, while Black Rock and North Bend went down; why
Chicago became the largest manufacturing city on the continent; why New England kept
the town-meeting, and the West preferred the township and the county; and why a
thousand and one other important things happened. To be sure we have had Bancroft,
and Sparks, and Hildreth, but these and their brethren have told us as little about
the history of the people as Lingard, Hume, Hallam, and all the rest of them told
England. Within a very few years historians have begun to see this defect, and such
men as Green, Lodge, and MacMaster have undertaken to give us histories of the
people, the first and last taking the lead on their respective sides of the Atlantic.
MacMaster’s work is excellent as far as it goes. His first volume is deep and
scholarly, and does credit to American literature. It is clear that the task of its
preparation was immense, and more time must have been spent in merely collecting
authorities than has been bestowed altogether on more pretentious histories. Where
Mr. MacMaster found all these authorities is a puzzle, for even such libraries as
those in Boston and Cambridge have not all the materials for such an undertaking. Yet
even he leaves many points untouched, or cursorily disposed of. Among the subjects
referred to, of which we would like to learn more, may be mentioned: the township
system of the West, the development of American municipal institutions, and, above
all, the origin and rise of the various centres of population and business which we
call cities.

The history of a nation should be compiled in the same way that the French people
of the ancien régime compiled their lists of grievances to be presented
to the king. In the early States-generals the deputies of all the orders received
from the electors mandates of instructions containing an enumeration of the public
grievances of which they were to demand redress. From the multitude of these
cahiers (or codices), the three estates, that is, the clergy, the nobility,
and the third estate (the people), compiled each a single cahier to serve as the
exponent of its grievances and its demands. When this complex process had been
completed and the three residual cahiers had been given to the king, the
States-general, the only representative body of France, was dissolved.

Thus it should be with our national history. Already the clergy have presented
their cahiers in the shape of church histories and theological essays innumerable.
The nobles, that is, the statesmen and politicians, have formulated their lists of
grievances in such works as Thirty Year’s View, The Great Conflict, Rise and Fall of
the Slave Power in America, etc. But where is the cahier of the third estate? The
States-general has met and the tiers état is not ready. What excuse
have they? Quick comes the answer: “Our electors have sent in but few cahiers, and
these are defective. We cannot tell our king, the nation, what the people were and
what they are, what they have and what they want, until they tell us. Our cahier must
wait the pleasure of the people.” Meanwhile, the regent, irreverently called Uncle
Sam, who rules the land while his master is away in Utopia, reads the cahiers of the
nobles, laughs in his sleeve at that of the clergy, and forgets all about that of the
third estate. Or if he thinks of it at all, it is only to try to fill its place with
twenty-four-volume Census Reports and massive tomes from the other departments.

The cahiers of the third estate are, in truth, few and defective, yet there are
some communities that have done their work well. For example, there is The Memorial
History of Boston which does credit even to the Hub of American historical
literature. It was the work of cultivated men, and although the cooks were many, the
broth is excellent. That the people were a-hungering for just such broth is shown by
the fact that the net profits from it in the first twelve months after publication,
as it is said, were over fifty thousand dollars.

Boston is almost the only city in the land that has been the subject of a full,
accurate, and interesting history. The History of New York, by Martha J. Lamb, is not
so full as might have been wished, but is otherwise unexceptionable. New York is
fortunate in having the most graphic and humorous history of its early days that any
city in the world ever had, but nobody except Diedrich Knickerbocker himself ever
claimed a great amount of accuracy and truthfulness for his unrivaled work.

It was to be expected that our older cities,—those whose seeds were planted
by Puritans, Dutch traders, Catholic fugitives, Quakers, Cavalier spendthrifts and
rogues, Huguenot exiles, and in general the motley crowd that sought the land of milk
and honey in the seventeenth and early part of the eighteenth centuries,—it was
to be expected that these cities would have historians ad nauseam. The very
nature of the early colonization of America, the elements of romance and adventure so
conspicuous in the history of early days on the Atlantic coast, gave warrant to such
expectations, and the event has justified them. But where the romance and adventure
end, the historian lays down his pen. It is left to the census enumerator to complete
the work, and the brazen age of statistics follows the golden age of history.

As the cities in the heart of the continent have very little of the picturesque in
their history, the same line of reasoning would lead us to expect that the historian
would carefully avoid them, or else write only of their earliest days, when Dame
Fortune was yet coquetting on the boards with Mr. Yankee Adventurer. Again we are not
mistaken, for we find that what few critics are present when the curtain is rung up,
leave the house when the first act ends with the death of the aforesaid adventurer.
How the fickle dame flirts with all the neighboring young men, and at last, at the
end of the second act, has her attention led by Captain Location to the hero of the
piece as a suitable mate for her wayward daughter, Miss Prosperity,—all this is
usually written up from hearsay. For the third act, wherein the twin brothers
Steamboat Navigation and Railroad Communication help the hero to press his suit, the
imagination often suffices. The grand finale, however, brings back some of the old
set of critics, together with a host of new ones, who describe in glowing language
the setting of the act, the costumes, the music, etc., and tell minutely how young
Miss Prosperity blushingly yet boldly promises to be forever true to the gallant
hero, now known under his rightful name of Mr. Metropolis. Ac-cording to the critic,
this grand drama always ends happily for all concerned; the acting is always
perfect,—the best ever seen on the stage; the scenery has seldom been equaled,
never excelled. And this is the way the public hears about every “greatest drama ever
produced on any stage.”

Do you think the critic too harshly criticized? Look for yourself. Take Cleveland,
if you want a good city with which to begin your explorations among the histories of
Western cities. Here is one of the loveliest places in all the basin of the Great
Lakes—rich, prosperous, beautiful. It was the one city which alt the travelers
through the West in the second quarter of this century united in declaring to be
attractive. For instance, J.S. Buckingham, who visited America forty-three years ago,
complimented Cleveland as follows, in a book called The Eastern and Western States of
America: “The buildings of Cleveland are all remarkably clean and neat, many of them
in excellent architectural style, and, like the dwellings we saw at Cincinnati and
other towns of Ohio, all evincing more taste, love of flowers, and attention to order
and adornment than in most of the States of the Union.” Mrs. Pulzky, who accompanied
Kossuth in his journey through America, in 1852, wrote in her diary: “Cleveland is a
neat, clean, and agreeable city, on Lake Erie. Americans call it the ‘Forest City,’
though the original forests have disappeared. Cleveland has a most lovely aspect;
with the exception of the business streets, every house is surrounded by a garden. It
was for the first time that I found love of nature in an American population. On the
journey, until here, I had always missed pleasure-grounds and trees around the
cottages.”

The growth of Cleveland was steady and healthy. Although foreigners came to it in
large numbers, it has been and is a representative American city. The spirit of
public improvement early made itself felt here, as has been intimated by the above
quotations; wide avenues, beautiful dwellings, pleasure-grounds, both public and
private,—all the attractions that a lavish expenditure of money can secure were
bestowed upon it. The oil discoveries of a quarter of a century ago made many of its
citizens wealthy, and their city was so pleasant to live in, that, unlike most
Western people who have gained sudden wealth, they stayed at home to spend their
money.

From the history of the rise of such a community, much might be learned. Yet in
the large libraries of the East we find only one book on the subject, and Poole’s
mammoth Index—that “Open, sesame,” of the literary man—refers us to not a
single magazine article of any sort on Cleveland. The book referred to is entitled
Early History of Cleveland, with Biographical Notices of the Pioneers and Survivors;
its author was Colonel Charles Whittlesey. As is the case in almost all such
histories, the biographical notices form a very considerable portion of the book,
and, as usual, its value is diminished in an exactly equivalent degree; for the
biographies of Western pioneers are fully as tedious and valueless as the catalogue
of ships in the second book of Homer. And, oh! the garrulity of the biographers, the
minuteness of detail, the petty incidents, the host of dates! With these we are
inflicted because some adventurous Yankee happened, by sheer luck, to build the first
shanty on what became the site of a great city, or chanced there to be a pioneer
victim of the “shakes” or the jaundice!

Whittlesey’s book contains four hundred and eighty-seven pages. Of these he uses
up seventy-six before he gets a civilized man in what became Cuyahoga County, and
fifty more before he gets any actual settlers to the mouth of the Cuyahoga River. The
history of the next thirteen or fourteen years, down to the War of 1812, fills the
mass of the book, details being here given that really have historical value. The
last forty pages are devoted to the history of the two or three following decades.
Nothing is told us about the actual development of a great city,—the haps and
mishaps, the successes and failures, in short, the growth, of the community.

This same Colonel Whittlesey, in a volume entitled Fugitive Essays, published a
sketch of the history of Cleveland covering the same ground more concisely, and also
giving a few extra details about the history between 1812 and 1840.

These constituted the sum total of works solely devoted to Cleveland which were
accessible to a writer in the East. The Ohio Historical Collections, by Henry Howe, a
series of sketches of the counties, cities, and towns of the State, added a little to
the meagre stock of information. For further knowledge, the public must be thankful
that the argus-eyed tourist has not left the place unnoticed, and that the
mathematically-inclined gazetteer has told us from time to time the number of
Cleveland’s churches, banks, and city councilmen, and other equally important
facts!

Take another lake city—Buffalo. The growth of this city has been rapid. Its
sudden rise to the dignity of a metropolis was largely due to that most interesting
of the many important internal improvements of the first half of the
century,—the Erie Canal. With the development of Buffalo was identified the
rise of lake navigation and the grain elevator. Its population has been increased by
the addition of a large foreign element, which has had its due influence on manners,
morals, and public life. It appears from the report of the board of health for 1879,
that, in 1878, of the children born in Buffalo, nineteen hundred and seventy-five
were of German descent; of all other descents, two thousand and fifty-six,—a
difference of only eighty-one. The city has indeed been thoroughly Germanized, if we
may coin the word.

Here are things of which we would know more. Yet what do we find about them? Save
in meagre or verbose pamphlets, nothing. To be sure, there was a book written which
claimed to be about Buffalo, but a microscopic examination would fail to find in it
anything worth knowing about the history of this community. The author of that book,
William Ketchum, had the audacity to name it, as we read on the title-page, “An
Authentic and Comprehensive History of Buffalo, with some account of its early
inhabitants, both savage and civilized.” It was published in Buffalo in 1864, in two
octavo volumes, containing respectively four hundred and thirty-two and four hundred
and forty-three pages. To comprehend the utter absurdity of the thing, we shall have
to glance at history a bit.

It will be remembered that during and for some time after the Revolutionary War
the country about the Niagara River remained in the possession of the British. The
Seneca Indians, who sided against the Colonies in that war, and who were driven from
their homes by the expedition of General Sullivan in 1779, gathered around Fort
Niagara and became such a nuisance that the English had to set up anew in
housekeeping these faithful allies and disagreeable neighbors. One of the villages
they started was at Buffalo Creek. Our historian, Ketchum, has twenty-five chapters
in the first volume of his Authentic and Comprehensive History of Buffalo. He gets
the Senecas settled at Buffalo Creek in the twenty-fourth!

During the rest of the century the inhabitants of this Indian village on the
ground where Buffalo was to stand, consisted of redskins and semi-redskins, a few
Indian traders who doled out the firewater, and a settler or two. The present city of
Buffalo, according to the encyclopaedia (and for once that mass of condensed wisdom
is correct about the date of settlement of a Western city), was founded in 1801, by
the Holland Land Company, which opened a land office here in January of that year.
The notice of this event may be found in the region of page 146, in vol. ii, of
Ketchum’s book,—the uniform lack of concise statement, the huge amount of
irrevelant matter, and the absence of lucid summaries and intelligent comment, making
more exact reference impossible.

The rest of this “comprehensive history” is occupied with the course of events
down to December 30, 1813, when the British burnt the town, leaving but two houses
standing—a dwelling-house and a blacksmith’s shop. Here, having brought his
Phoenix to ashes, our comprehensive historian brings his narrative to an abrupt end.
This is at page 304. Then follows the “appendix,” an invariable feature of city
histories, which makes of every one of them a huge anti-climax. In this instance, one
hundred and thirty-nine pages of appendix contain, according to the author, “for the
purpose of preservation, a mass of papers not absolutely necessary to the elucidation
of the history contained in the body of the work. Most of them consist of original
papers and letters never before published, and which are now, for the first time,
placed in an accessible and permanent form.” To compare small things with great,
these documents are made just about as “accessible” as are the State papers to which
Carlyle devotes so much paper and bile in his book on Oliver Cromwell.

In short, this book contains much valuable information, which is very hard to
extract, and when extracted is not germane to the history of the city of Buffalo.

Some information about Buffalo’s history was found in a pamphlet on the
Manufacturing Interests of the City of Buffalo, published in 1866. In it were
historical sketches, covering about twenty-five pages,—verbose, with little
meat, written in the flowery style so dear to the heart of the American editor or
“Honorable” when extolling the virtues of his constituency. Turner’s History of the
Holland Purchase, published in 1849, and containing six hundred and sixty-six pages,
would have been more useful, had it not been composed for the greater part of the
biographies of insignificant pioneers, and had not the rest related in the main to
the early history of the section. A book promising much on the outside was Hotchkin’s
History of Western New York. An examination of the title-page, however, dampened our
expectations, for there was added the rest of the title, namely, “And of the Rise,
Progress, and Present State of the Presbyterian Church.” The book proved indeed a
delusion and a snare, for of its six hundred pages more than nine tenths pertained to
church affairs,—were part and parcel of the cahiers of the clergy. As for the
magazine articles on Buffalo, they are few and, from the historical point of view,
insignificant.

Of far more interest than the histories of either Cleveland or Buffalo, though
perhaps no more important, is that of their nearest common neighbor of equal
rank,—Pittsburgh. In very many respects this is one of the most interesting
cities in the Union, which is mostly due to the fact that it has such a remarkable
location, and that its topography is picturesquely unique. Here we have the strange
combination of the blackest, smuttiest, dirtiest hole in the United States,—at
night, as Parton said: “All hell with the lid taken off,”—with surroundings
half rural, half urban, which for loveliness can scarcely be rivaled by any other
city in the land. Sir Henry Holland, who was of the Prince of Wales’s suite, when he
visited Pittsburgh, remarked to one of the committee of reception that he had, in
1845, spent a week in an equestrian exploration of the suburbs of Pittsburgh; that he
had traveled through all the degrees of the earth’s longitude, and had not elsewhere
found any scenery so diversified, picturesque, and beautiful as that around
Pittsburgh. He likened it to a vast panorama, from which, as he rode along, the
curtain was dropping behind and rising before him, revealing new beauties
continually. “If the business portion of Pittsburgh is a city, half enchanted, of
fire and smoke, inhabited by demons playing with fire, the surrounding portion is
also under enchantment, of a different kind, and smiles a land of beauty, brightness,
and quiet. The one section might be a picture by Tintoretto, and the other by Claude
Lorraine.”

On the twenty-fourth of November, 1753, no human habitation stood on the peninsula
between the Alleghany and Monongahela Rivers. On that day Washington recorded in his
journal: “I think it extremely well situated for a fort, as it has absolute command
of both rivers.” In the following spring the English began the erection of a stockade
here, which, on the twenty-fourth of April, was surrendered to the French under
Captain Contrecoeur Who at once proceeded to the erection of Fort Du Quesne.

Round this name centres a wealth of incident, romance, and history, but no one has
risen to do it justice. Braddock’s ill-starred expedition was followed by the
abandonment of the fort by the French, in November, 1758, and its subsequent
rebuilding as Fort Pitt. The fate of the little hamlet which sprang up around it was
for a long time most dubious, but its position as a frontier post on the line of the
ever westward-retreating Indians, and on the edge of the vast unknown wilderness,
just beginning to allure adventurous pioneers, kept it from falling into the oblivion
with which it was threatened by the dismantling of the fort and the troublous
Revolutionary times. Yet as late as 1784 so experienced a man as Arthur Lee, the
Virginian, who had been a commissioner at the court of Versailles with Franklin and
Deane, and who visited this hamlet in December of this year, said of it: “Pittsburgh
is inhabited almost entirely by Scots and Irish, who live in paltry log-houses, and
are as dirty as in the north of Ireland, or even in Scotland. There is a great deal
of small trade carried on, the goods being brought at the vast expense of forty-five
shillings per cwt. from Philadelphia and Baltimore. They take in the shops money,
flour, and skins. There are in the town four attorneys, two doctors, and not a priest
of any persuasion, nor church, nor chapel; so that they are likely to be damned
without the benefit of clergy. The place, I believe, will never be
considerable.”

This “small trade” which Lee speaks of was to develop in a very few years to
gigantic proportions, and was to make Pittsburgh for the while the commercial
metropolis of the West. She maintained this position until the westward march of
civilization had left her far in the rear; and then the garrison which the vast army
of pioneers left here found in the coal and iron under their very feet a Fortunatus’s
purse. Thus, far different was the fate of Pittsburgh from that of Marietta,
Portsmouth, Lexington, and the like, which sank into comparative obscurity as soon as
they had ceased to be outposts of Uncle Sam’s army of emigrants.

Here, then, do we lack materials for history? What historian could ask for a more
romantic starting-point than Old Fort Du Quesne? a more interesting topic for a
chapter than Fort Pitt? a more picturesque subject than the batteurs and voyageurs of
the Ohio? What more fruitful themes can there be than the rise of the iron, the
glass, the oil industry, the steamboat commerce of our interior, the subjection of
the Monongahela, the combination of a city which reminds the traveler of Hades, with
suburbs which suggest metaphors about Paradise? And can he not find food for inquiry
and thought in the great riots of 1877?

Yet the only historian of Pittsburgh is Neville B Craig, whose short and not
over-attractive history ends with the middle of this century, if we remember rightly.
His subject is neither thoroughly nor ably treated, and it is not presented to the
public in an agreeable form. The book is one of the past generation, and we publish
better histories than did our fathers. In 1876, Samuel H. Thurston presented the
public with a small volume, entitled Pittsburgh and Alleghany in the Centennial. It
contained a little history and a great deal of bombast; and, moreover, the greater
part of it was filled with statistical details pertaining to the Centennial year
alone. Yet from this book had to be taken most of the historical sketch which will be
found in the Census Report. Egle’s History of Pennsylvania tells us something about
Pittsburgh, and magazine articles are plenty, though historically of little
value.

St. Louis is more plentifully supplied with histories than any other Western city,
and these histories are as much worse as they are more numerous. One of these
deserves notice, from the fact that its title-page so ridiculously and exasperatingly
misrepresents its contents. This page reads as follows: “Edwards’s Great West and her
Commercial Metropolis, embracing a complete History of St. Louis, from the landing of
Ligueste, in 1764, to the present time; with portraits and biographies of some of the
old settlers, and many of the most prominent business men. By Richard Edwards and M.
Hopewell, M.D. Splendidly illustrated. 1860. $5.” This seemed to promise well, but
when we turned the page and read the introduction, our expectations were, to say the
least, somewhat shaken, and our sense of the eternal fitness of things somewhat
shocked, when we found the citizens of St. Louis called “a powerful Mæcenas.”
Shade of Virgil! What a profanation!

Any book that is preceded by a dedication, a preface, an introduction, and a
full-page portrait of the author (with a big A), must, in the very nature of things,
be a monstrosity. But, leaving these anomalies out of account, in the present
instance, the composition of the book is sufficient proof that the epithet is not
undeserved. “And this is so, for,”—as Herodotus would say,—in a book
called Edwards’s Great West, the “Great West” is summarily and mercilessly disposed
of in just five pages. Then follow eighty-two pages of biographies and portraits,
ingeniously defended by the author as follows: “Biographies of those who have become
identified with the progress of the great city, who have guarded and directed its
business currents year by year, swelling with the elements of prosperity, and who
have left the impress of their genius and judgment upon the legislative enactments of
the State, must be sought after with avidity, and must be fraught with useful
instruction.” There is no question that these biographies are fraught with useful
instruction—all biographies are; but to assert that they must be sought after
with avidity is a little too much to be swallowed. Such assertions show either
deplorable ignorance or unwarrantable misrepresentation of human nature, and in this
case we are convinced it must be the latter. Edwards knew perfectly well—for he
seems to have been sane—that nobody but the subjects of these biographies would
seek them “with avidity,” and he made these plausible, bombastic assertions to excuse
himself for having sprung such a trap on an unsuspecting public. That he tries to
palliate the offence is, sufficient proof of his guilt.

Mark what he says about the “splendidly illustrated” portion of his book. “It will
be a source of satisfaction to the reader,” says he, “that the engravings of
individuals who adorn this work are not drawn by the flighty imagination from airy
nothingness, but represent the lineaments of men,” etc. “Airy nothingness” is
refreshing!

Part II, also, is almost wholly devoted to biographies, one batch being introduced
with this sage remark: “Biography is the most important feature of history; for the
record of the lives of individuals appears to be invested with more vitality and
interest than the dry details of general historical narrative.” Q.E.D.—of
course. With Part III we reach the history of St. Louis, contained in one hundred and
eighty pages, and worth more or less as a history. Then come one hundred and seventy
pages more of biographies, an appendix of fifteen pages, and about thirty pages of
views of manufacturing establishments. And this book is called The Great West. No
further comment seems necessary.

Of all the many rich and racy things the writer has run across in his explorations
in the literature of American cities, the richest and raciest is a book called St.
Louis: The Future Great City of the World, by L.U. Reavis. The very title-page gives
an inkling of the nature of the contents by its motto, savoring somewhat of cant:
“Henceforth St. Louis must be viewed in the light of the future—her mightiness
in the empire of the world—her sway in the rule of states and nations.” This
book, strangely enough, was “published by order of the St Louis County Court,” in
1870, on the petition of forty-five of the leading citizens and firms of the city,
who were represented before the court by a committee headed by Captain James B. Eads,
the renowned engineer, and containing one captain, five honorables, and two esquires.
The first edition consisted of one hundred and six pages, which were as vainglorious
and boastful, as crowded with laudatory adjectives, glowing periods, and bombastic
prophecies, as ever one hundred and six published pages were.

However, it evidently suited the St. Louis palate, for a second edition bears date
of the same year, and in 1871 a third appeared in a considerably enlarged form. This
last one is the most interesting, for it contains a preface and a finis which for
pure, undiluted presumption have never been excelled. The former is entitled
“Explanatory,” and is worth quoting entire: “A presentation of Causes in Nature and
Civilization which, in their reciprocal action tend to fix the position of the FUTURE
GREAT CITY OF THE WORLD in the central plain of North America, showing that the
centre of the world’s commerce and civilization will, in less than one hundred years,
be organized and represented in the Mississippi Valley, and by St. Louis, occupying
as she does the most favored position on the continent and the Great River; also a
complete representation of the great railway system of St. Louis, showing that in
less than ten years she will be the greatest railway centre in the world.” Even the
most arrogant citizen of St. Louis would hardly have the boldness to maintain that
ten years after this prophecy was made, in 1881, St. Louis was “the greatest railway
centre in the world,” or even that she was one of the greatest. As to the one-hundred
years prophecy nothing can as yet be affirmed, for it has eighty-seven years more to
run, but if the last thirteen can be taken as a criterion, St. Louis has a big
contract on her hands.

The last page is the most curious in the book, and in its way is certainly unique.
It is called “A Closing Word,” and, being printed in italics, has an air of emphasis
and force peculiarly appropriate. The author begins: “Thus have I written a new
record—a new prophecy of a city central to a continent of resources;” and so he
goes on for half a page of ridiculous bombast until he finishes the climax of
epithets by calling this “the Apocalyptic City—

“All hail! mistress of nations and beautiful queen of civilization! I view thee in
the light of thy destiny. Thou art transfigured before me from thy present state to
one infinitely more grand, and which overshadows and dwarfs all civic forms in
history.

“The influence of thy empire will pervade the world with invisible and electric
force. Yet, vivifying and benignant capital,—emporium of trade and industry,
seat of learning and best-applied labor, pivotal point in history, supreme and superb
city of all lands,—I behold thy majesty from afar, and salute thee reverently
as the consummation of all that the best human energies can accomplish for the
elevation and happiness of our race.

“All hail! Future Great City of the World, and ‘Glory to God in the Highest and on
Earth Peace, Goodwill toward Men.'”

This reminds one equally of Walt Whitman and Artemas Ward. Yet it is not
burlesque. It appears to have been written in good faith, and for this reason the
incongruity of such a grandiloquent rhapsody on such a prosaic subject is all the
more noticeable. As an example of “fine writing” it has seldom been surpassed, and
for sheer nonsense it is unequaled in American literature.

These books on St. Louis call to mind a history of Milwaukee of a somewhat similar
nature—similar in its magnificent pretensions to the last-described work, and
in its biographical characteristics to Edwards’s Great West. The book referred to was
published in Chicago, in 1881, by the Western Historical Company, A.T. Andreas,
proprietor. Holy Herodotus! To think of history becoming a thing of
“companies”—on a par with life insurance, railroads, gas-works, and cotton
factories! And an “historical company” with a proprietor, too!

But let us look into this monumental tome. (Do not think that adjective
hyperbolical, for surely monumental is not too strong a word to describe a book which
would just about balance in weight an unabridged dictionary.) Some idea of the
immensity of the undertaking can be obtained when, as the preface says, “it is known
that nearly one year’s time was consumed and an average force of twenty-five men
employed in the labor of obtaining information and preparing the manuscript for the
printer’s hands. The result of this vast effort is the presentation of a History
which stands unparalleled in the experience of publishers.” The book is a quarto and
contains sixteen hundred and sixty-three pages. The letter-press is unexceptionable;
each page is surrounded by a neat border; the paper is good; the binding is
excellent.

And yet the actual history of this city dates back little more than half a
century—not a lifetime. Here is history with a vengeance! The riddle, however,
is solved the instant we glance over the pages, for we find the mass of the book made
up of biographies,—biographies in front, biographies to the right, biographies
to the left, everywhere biographies,—to the grand sum total of nearly four
thousand. A book much like this would have been made had the Crown published the
Giant Petition trundled into Parliament on a wheelbarrow in the times of George the
Third, when Lord George Gordon was the hero of the day. About as valuable, about as
readable, about as bulky, about as good for kindling fires!

But let the perpetrator plead his cause in his own words—and it must be
conceded he does it well. “The plan of the History of the city of Milwaukee, which is
herewith presented to the public,” he says in his preface, “possesses the merit of
originality. It is based upon the fact that in all older regions, a serious
deficiency exists even in the most exhaustive histories which it is possible now to
compile through the absence of personal and detailed records of pioneer men and
deeds. The primary design of this work is to preserve for future historians as
complete an encyclopædia of early events in Milwaukee, and the actors therein,
as patient labor and unstinted financial expenditure can procure.”

We thank the Western Historical Company, or Mr. Andreas, for this benevolent and
philanthropic spirit, but really he must not expect us to believe that pecuniary
profit is only a secondary design of this work. But supposing for a moment
that the primary design was as philanthropic and unselfish as Mr. Andreas would have
us think, let us consider its worth; for, if we grant this premise, we must admit the
truth of the conclusion reached, and then must give unstinted praise to the fruits of
such a conclusion, a volume like the one before us. But the premise is specious and
false. The deficiency that exists through the absence of personal and detailed
records of pioneer men and deeds is not serious: on the contrary, in most
cases, we should be devoutly thankful that it exists. Of the generations after that
of the pioneers we would know much; of that of the pioneers themselves, something.
But who is there, or will there be, that cares a picayune whether the third cobbler
in Milwaukee (this history would call him the third manufacturer of shoes) was born
in April or June, 1806, or whether he came from Tipperary or Heidelberg, or whether
his wife died of the pneumonia or the whooping-cough? To be sure we would be glad to
know whether the early settlers of Milwaukee were mainly young or mainly old when
they came here, whether they were mainly German or Irish, and what where the
prevalent diseases in different localities at an early period, but to ask an
intelligent being to wade through nearly four thousand “personal histories” in order
ascertain these facts is, to say the least, somewhat of an imposition on his good
nature.

Later on in his preface the author contradicts himself in this regard, for he
shows us how far from philanthropic were the publisher’s motives and how little he
thought of posterity in inserting these biographies, by writing the following
well-turned and suggestive sentences: “It may be asked, Why have the biographical
sketches of comparatively obscure men been inserted? The reasons are obvious to
business men and should be to all. None but citizens are represented. Whatever
Milwaukee is her citizens have made her. Shall the publisher exercise a power higher
than the law, and erect a caste distinction or estimate each man’s work from some
fictitious standard of his own? Assuredly not. If, in the preparation of this work, a
citizen has shown commendable pride, and aided its publisher by his patronage, he is
entitled to mention in its pages. Such men and women have received a sketch, but the
fact of pecuniary assistance has not biased the character of the book.”

This is a very specious attempt to throw a glamour of respectability over a very
unpleasant and repugnant fact, namely: that a mass of “biographical sketches of
comparatively obscure men” has been given to the public under the guise of a history
of a city, with the sole object of making money. It is indeed consoling to know that
“none but citizens have been represented,” but why this statement should be coupled
with the platitude that follows it would be hard to say. And then the utter
ridiculousness of the nonsense about the publisher exercising a power higher than the
law and erecting a caste distinction! “What fools these mortals be!”

But whatever may be said of the historical value of such books as the above, there
can be little doubt that they are remunerative business enterprises, for the country
has of late years been flooded with them. Perhaps we ought to be thankful for any
history at all of these new Western cities, even though the wheat therein be so
scarce and the chaff so plenty. The prevalence of this same affliction—the
biographical history—in literary New England seems more anomalous than it does
in the West, but it is even more widespread. A fair type of the Eastern species is
the Quarter-Centennial History of Lawrence, Massachusetts, compiled by H.A.
Wadsworth, in 1878. It contained seventy-five very poor wood-engravings, called
portraits by courtesy, which, with the accompanying biographies, were inserted to
represent the leading (?) men of the city at an entrance fee of five or ten dollars
apiece.

Next in number below the biographical histories, but far above them in value, come
what may be called the chronological histories, that is, those which make little or
no attempt to group the important facts of a city’s history in homogeneous chapters,
but which, diary-like, give all facts, important as well as insignificant, in the
order of their occurrence. Fortunately most local historians of this sect have made
more or less attempt at bringing like to like, although they have generally preserved
the purely chronological order within their groups, whether these be of subjects or
periods. Among the histories of the larger cities, Scharf’s Chronicles of Baltimore
comes to mind as typical of this class. This work, published in 1874, is an octavo of
seven hundred and fifty-six pages. The author tells the truth when he says in his
preface: “The only plan in the work that has been followed has been to chronicle
events through the years in their order; beginning with the earliest in which any
knowledge on the subject is embraced, and running on down to the present.” The book
is printed “solid,” with not a single chapter-heading from one end to the other, so
it is not strange that it contains such an immense amount of material.

The great fault of this book, as of all books of this class, is the lack of the
proper classification, the scholarly reflection and comment, the thoughtful contrast
and comparison, the exercise of intelligent judgment in forming
conclusions,—all which are necessary to make history palatable, not to say
valuable. Nowhere is this lack shown more forcibly than in this book in the treatment
of the subject of riots and mob violence. It may not be generally known, especially
among the younger portion of the community, that no American and but few European
cities have such an unenviable and disgraceful record on this head as Baltimore. The
accounts of its riots remind one too forcibly of the worst days of the French
Revolution, and all of them read more like the incidents so plentiful in the
sensational stories of the day, than like the cold, dispassionate record of history.
And this, mind you, is the record of a city famed far more for monuments,
pleasure-grounds, and beautiful women, than for lawlessness and sans-culottism, a
city proud of its families and its culture, a city one of the oldest and richest in
the land. However unpleasant it may be to look at the black side of such a city’s
history, yet the study must be profitable if by it we Americans, proud of our
tolerance and our humanity, jealous of aught past or present that may blot our
escutcheon, wondering at and scornfully pitying nations that could have had Lord
George Gordon riots and blood-thirsty land-leagues, a reign of terror and a
commune,—if we may learn not to be quite so arrogant in our righteousness,
quite so boastful in our Pharisaism; if we may learn how much reason we of the New
World have to bear in mind, when we read about the past and present of the Old World,
the divine command: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at
her.”

Yet Scharf gives merely the bare details of these, the most vivid scenes in
Baltimore’s history, and goes little into causes or results, leaving us almost wholly
in the dark as to how a civilized city in the most enlightened country on earth could
have grafted on its history such anomalous things as these riots. This feature of
Baltimore’s history seems to us to be the feature most peculiar to itself, and,
therefore, like that feature of a human face peculiar to the person we are studying,
the most interesting; but our historian gives it no distinctive treatment, puts no
emphasis on it, forces the reader to compare, contrast, account for, explain, and
draw conclusions for himself. That he should slide over this side of Baltimore’s
history would be natural enough, but of this he cannot be accused. His treatment of
this subject is characteristic of the whole book.

As a good example of an even more disappointing type of chronological histories we
may take the History of Lynn, including Lynnfield, Saugus, Swampscott, and Nahant, by
Alonzo Lewis and James R. Newhall, an octavo of six hundred and twenty pages,
published in 1865. The book seems to have been condensed from a series of very poor
diaries, and the mass of detail under the year-headings is ridiculous in its
minuteness and laughable in its absurdity. Every year has its paragraphic entries,
more or less full. The narrative of one year may here be quoted to show the nature of
the whole, and, for that matter, the nature of fifty similar town histories.

1758. “Thomas Mansfield, Esquire, was thrown from his horse on Friday, January 6,
and died the next Sunday.

“A company of soldiers, from Lynn, marched for Canada, on the twenty-third of May.
Edmund Ingalls and Samuel Mudge were killed.

“In a thunder-shower, on the fourth of August, an ox belonging to Mr. Henry Silsbee
was killed by lightning.

“A sloop from Lynn, commanded by Captain Ralph Lindsay, was cast away on the
fifteenth of August, near Portsmouth.”

In this pretended “History,” the whole of the eighteenth century receives but
sixty-two pages, and that part of the nineteenth which had elapsed at the time of
publication receives only one hundred and seventeen. In the latter an average entry
is the following, under date of 1856:—

“Patrick Buckley, the ‘Lynn Buck,’ ran five miles in twenty-eight minutes and
thirty-eight seconds, at the Trotting Park, for a belt valued at fifty dollars. And
on the fourth of December, William Hendley ran the same distance in twenty-eight
minutes and thirty seconds.”

The “Lynn Buck,” seems to have been an important personage in those days, for we
read under date of 1858:—

“The ‘Lynn Buck,’ so called, walked a plank at Lowell, in February, a hundred and
five consecutive hours and forty-four minutes, and with but twenty-nine minutes’
rest. A strict watch was kept on him.”

We are very glad to know about the “strict watch,” but really it was too bad of
the authors not to let us know if those forty-four minutes, also, were not
consecutive. They might, too, have told us to advantage something about the modus
operandi of “walking a plank.” It has been the general impression that the man
who walks a plank performs the operation in an unpleasant hurry—unpleasant for
him; and that he will take all the rest he can get—before he begins; and that
he has an eternal rest, or unrest, after he has finished. But perhaps this has been a
wrong impression. If the authors are alive, it is due to the public that they should
rise and explain.

Enough of pleasantry. Let us examine the book with serious mind, if we can.
Everybody knows that shoes have been the making of Lynn, that they are and have been
for years the backbone of its prosperity, the life of its business. To say that Lynn
is the greatest shoe-manufacturing city in the country, and, for that matter, in the
world, may be an exaggeration, but it is a very common one. In a history of Lynn we
might expect this fact to be at least recognized. Let us see how that is in the
present case.

The shoe business was not unknown in Lynn before 1750, but in that year it first
got a firm footing here. So we are not surprised to find the fact mentioned, but we
are somewhat disappointed to find only half a page given to it. Beyond this, mention
of the shoe trade in the last century is very slight, as, no doubt, was the trade
itself. Since 1800, however, the trade has been rapidly increasing, and has gradually
assumed enormous proportions. Yet in this precious volume we find the subject
mentioned just once in the chronological annals, three lines being devoted to
it under the head of 1810: “It appeared, by careful estimation, that there were made
in Lynn, this year, one million pairs of shoes, valued at eight hundred thousand
dollars. The females (!) earned some fifty thousand dollars by binding.” To be sure,
the burning of two shoe factories received, respectively, two and three lines; the
formation of an ineffective board of trade by shoemakers, ten lines; and of an
equally fruitless union by journeymen shoemakers, ten lines. A page and a quarter
(mirabile dictu) is devoted to a shoemakers’ strike with no definite result.
In a biography, the connection of its subject with the shoe business is mentioned in
a quoted letter. A quick job by a shoemaker receives six lines, and one by another,
four; and the death of a third is mentioned.

In an appendix the state of the shoe business in 1864 is discussed at length in a
third of a half-page! All we learn from it is that by the State returns in the year
ending June 1, 1833, there were made 9,275,593 pairs of shoes valued at $4,165,529.
In the year ending September 1, 1864, about ten million pairs of shoes were made,
valued at fourteen million dollars (probably paper, not gold, value), and the number
of shoe manufacturers was 174; of men and women employed, 17,173. As the total
population of Lynn at that time was little if anything over twenty-three thousand, it
will be seen that even these figures are untrustworthy, or else the shoe business
played even a greater part in Lynn affairs than is generally supposed.

And this is all the mention to be found in a History of Lynn concerning the
backbone of the city—that great industry to which it almost wholly owed its
population of 38,274 in 1880. Can any one maintain that this sort of a book is a
history?

And so we might go on, finding history after history of the towns and cities
scattered through New England and the Middle States, most of them on a par with those
last mentioned, in all styles of print and binding, some decrepit and musty with age,
others fresh and enticing, with gaudy covers and scores of illustrations; some like
Sewall’s History of Woburn with no table of contents or index, and so practically
useless; a few like Staples’s Annals of Providence, scholarly and creditable; yet
none of them ideal histories. But occasionally we meet an oasis in this vast waste,
and though it may not be a paradise, yet we are too grateful for the water that
nourishes the palms and the grass, that refreshes our parched mouths and wearied
bodies, to think that in other climes we might call it brackish and unclean.

Such is the effect that the History of Pittsfield, Massachusetts has on us. Here
is a book that might well be taken as a standard by town historians. The very history
of the History will show its merits.

At a town meeting held in the Town Hall, in Pittsfield, August 25, 1866, so the
preface says, Mr. Thomas Allen rose, and stated that on the centennial of the First
Congregational Church and parish, namely, April 18, 1864, he had been requested by a
vote of the parish to prepare an historical memoir of that parish and church,
embodying substantially, but extending, the remarks he made at that meeting. He
stated that, in looking over the records of the town and parish, he found them
intimately connected, so that a history of the one would also be a history of the
other; and he had found the history of the town highly interesting, and honorable to
its inhabitants. True, there were no classic fields in Pittsfield, consecrated by
patriotic blood spilled in battle in defence of the country, as in Lexington and
Concord, simply because no foreign foe in arms ever invaded its soil; but it was not
the less true that Pittsfield had always promptly performed her part, and furnished
her quota of men and means, in every war waged in defence of the country and the
Union; and that in the intellectual contests through which the just principles of
republican government, and civil and religious freedom, have been established in this
country, the men of Pittsfield, on their own ground and elsewhere, have ever borne a
part creditable alike to their wisdom, their sagacity, and their patriotism.
Pittsfield, therefore, had a history which deserved to be written. The first settlers
had all passed away; and their immediate descendants, witnesses of their earlier
struggles, were whitening with the frosts of age, and were also rapidly disappearing.
If the records of their history were to be gathered together, and preserved in a
durable form, it was time that the duty be undertaken. He was satisfied that an
honorable record would appear, and worthy of the place to which God had given so much
that is beautiful in nature.

These remarks were so sensible, their spirit was so noble, their form so forcible,
that at once a committee of five was appointed to compile, write, and supervise the
publication of a history of the town, and an appropriation was made to defray the
expense. This committee chose Mr. J.E.A. Smith to aid them, and, according to the
title-page, he compiled and wrote the book under their general direction. It was
published in two octavo volumes: the first contained five hundred and eighteen pages,
and appeared in 1868, bringing the history from 1734 down to 1800; the second,
containing seven hundred and twenty-five pages, was not published until eight years
later. The second volume brought the history down to date, and with the first formed
an unbroken, readable narrative, written in perhaps as good a style as town history
could warrant us in expecting. Not the least deserving of praise are the indexes, the
lack of which found in most books of the sort does more to lower their value than any
other defect. The man who writes a history without indexing it thereby shows his
utter lack of the most essential requisite in an historian—a knowledge of the
art of codification. He also calls down upon his head the curses of every student who
tries to use his book.

An abundance of illustrations is not rare enough in town histories to merit
applause, but they are so seldom worth looking at that the presence of such admirable
ones as we find here attracts more than passing notice. If American art were to be
judged by the generality of such illustrations, we would do well to say as little as
possible about the slurs and sneers of foreign critics. In such case silence would be
the better plan.

The preface to the second volume contained the following suggestive
sentences:—

“The original plan of the work was to make the earlier portions more full than the
later: indeed, to give but a brief skeleton of recent affairs: it being exceedingly
difficult to make contemporary history satisfactory to those who have taken part in
it. We have, in a few instances, departed from this course, for reasons which will
suggest themselves to the reader.”

In these sentences may be found the germ of almost the only idea in the making of
this truly admirable book which deserves severe criticism, and most certainly the
severest condemnation should be given to this and all similar ideas. The notion that
history should be written in a way that will be satisfactory to those engaged
in it is radically wrong, unless perchance by a satisfactory way is meant a
way that in point of truth, accuracy, and fulness, will suit those who have a more or
less personal share in the events to be recorded. But here it is evident that the
word has not this meaning, or at least has a great deal more than this meaning. In
this connection it seems to be a euphemism for pleasant. Certainly no one will
dispute that an historian of contemporary events would find very difficult even the
attempt to make his work pleasant to his contemporaries. It is the endeavor to do
this which has vitiated all the histories so far written of the late Civil War. The
same principle made Thiers’s French Revolution an almost worthless book as a history.
To come down to lesser things, the same principle underlying and pervading all
American local histories has done more toward making them worthless than any other
single defect. In the name of truth and justice we ask, “Why should the writing of
history be made satisfactory, pleasant, to those who aid in the making of it?” We
want the truth about the near, as well as the far, past. Let us do unto our
descendants as we would that our ancestors had done by us, and tell them the truth
about ourselves.

Perhaps we ought to be more lenient in the case of this history of Pittsfield, in
consideration of the fact that this was a public work, and, therefore, more
caution had to be exercised than we would otherwise have expected. Of course no
employee would like to displease even a single member of the corporation that
employed him. Possibly the same argument might be raised in defence of any historian,
in that the public is virtually his employer. Here, however, reasoning by analogy
fails, for the public is a very large body, and will seldom take up the cudgel in
defence of any single individual. This is a question, however, which should be
settled on the ground of right, not of expediency. But even if the right be left out
of account, the expedient in this case is not necessarily opposed to truth and
accuracy. This is well shown by the phenomenal success of The Memorial History of
Boston, mentioned above. It may be well just here to say a little more about this
admirable work, for it is even more typical of what an ideal city history should be,
than that of Pittsfield is of the ideal town history.

From the title-page we learn that The Memorial History of Boston, including
Suffolk County, Massachusetts, 1630-1880, was edited by Justin Winsor, and issued
under the business superintendence of the projector, Clarence F. Jewett, in 1880. The
nature of the book is learned from the preface, which says: “The history is cast on a
novel plan: not so much in being a work of co-operation, but because, so far as could
be, the several themes, as sections of one homogeneous whole, have been treated by
those who have some particular association and, it may be, long acquaintance with the
subject. In the diversity of authors there will, of course, be variety of opinions,
and it has not been thought ill-judged, considering the different points of view
assumed by the various writers, that the same events should be interpreted sometimes
in varying and, perhaps, opposite ways. The chapters may thus make good the poet’s
description:

and may not be the worse for each offering a reflection, according to its turn to
the light, without marring the unity of the general expanse.”

Among those who contributed one or more chapters to this work were Justin Winsor
(the editor), Charles Francis Adams, Jr., R.C. Winthrop, T.W. Higginson, Edward
Everett Hale, H.E. Scudder, F.W. Palfrey, Phillips Brooks, Andrew P. Peabody, Henry
Cabot Lodge, Josiah P. Quincy, and Edward Atkinson. Such names as these are more than
enough to insure the truth, accuracy, and historical value of the book. Each one of
them discussed one or more topics, and then their work with that of the less famous
contributors was arranged chronologically, making a logically consecutive series of
essays complete in themselves. The whole was published in four elegantly printed
volumes, containing, in all, twenty-five hundred and seventy-seven pages.

This is the kind of a history which is of value, not only for immediate use, but
also for future reference; and this is the kind that gladdens the heart and cheers
the labors of the student and the writer. It is the lack of such histories which
makes incomplete and unsatisfactory such works as the one in the hands of the
government which called forth this article. For it must not be supposed that the
historical part of The Social Statistics of Cities of 1880 will be either complete in
every part or wholly satisfactory. Yet perhaps it will be complete enough to answer
its end, which is to afford an opportunity for seeing why the cities and towns
described have reached their present condition. It is on the accounts of their
present condition that the value of the work must chiefly rest.

To the historians in succeeding generations these accounts will be invaluable, for
they will give information about the cities as they were in the year 1880, which is
not likely to be embodied in any other permanent form. It has been shown how large a
proportion of the local histories of America have been found wanting in these things.
It is not to be expected that the immediate future will see any decided reformation.
Then it is clear of how great value to the “future historian of recent events,” to
quote one of Daniel Webster’s phrases, will be such work as this that has been
undertaken by the National government. It will be of so great value because, as we
can say with little exaggeration, the history of the cities is the history of the
nation. The city to-day plays a most important part in national affairs. It is,
indeed, and for aught we can see must continue to be, the Hamlet of the play. Few
people realize this. Few people know that over one fifth of the population of the
land is gathered in the large towns and cities. At the beginning of the century the
ratio of the urban population to the rural was only as one to fifteen. No reason is
apparent why the increase in the ratio should not be equally steady and rapid for
many generations. That this same change has taken place in all civilized
portions of the world is, in truth, most significant. In England the progress of the
cities has been in the same direction, and, as nearly as can be judged, in the same
ratio as that of wealth, learning, and happiness.

Call to mind what Macaulay said, nearly half a century ago, in chapter iii of his
History of England: “Great as has been the change in the rural life of England since
the Revolution (1688), the change which has come to pass in the cities is still more
amazing. At present, a sixth part of the kingdom is crowded into provincial towns of
more than thirty thousand inhabitants. In the reign of Charles II, no provincial town
in the kingdom contained thirty thousand inhabitants, and only four provincial towns
contained so many as ten thousand inhabitants.” Since this was written, the change,
if not so marvelous, has been equally important.

As to our own country, the change can in no way be shown more clearly than by the
following table, which will be published in the Census Report:—

Table Showing The Growth Of United States
Cities From 1800 To 1880.

The city is not only the growing centre of a growing nation—it is also the
centre of all intellectual growth. The city is the home of the bar, the hospital, the
press, the church, and the state. The city is the outcome of civilization, for it is
the product of commerce and manufactures, and these mean civilization.

Then if any history be of value, if the record of the past be of any use in
guiding the present and helping toward the future, surely the history of the city is
the most important of all history.

PUBLISHERS’ DEPARTMENT.

A Short History Of Our Own Times. By
Justin McCarthy, M.P. One volume, pp. 448. Harper and Brothers: New York. 1884.

The brilliant History of Our Own Times, in two volumes, by the same author, and
published four years ago, has now been presented to the public in a reduced size.
While it was necessary to leave out many of the striking and rhetorical passages in
the process of condensation, which formed so pleasing a portion in the larger work,
the strictly historical matter remains unchanged. His history, beginning with the
accession of Queen Victoria, in 1837, and extending to the general election, in 1880,
the date of the appointment of the Honorable W.E. Gladstone to the premiership of
England, covers a period of intense interest, and with which every intelligent person
should be familiar. Mr. McCarthy’s work is destined to be, for some time to come, the
standard account of English affairs for the last fifty years.

One of the most valuable reference works of recent publication is The Epitome of
Ancient, Mediæval, and Modern History. By Carl Ploetz. Translated from the
German, with extensive additions, by William H. Tillinghast, of the Harvard
University library. One volume. pp. 618. Houghton, Mifflin, and Company: Boston.
1884.

The author of the original work, Professor Doctor Carl Ploetz, is well known in
Germany as a veteran teacher and writer of educational books which have a high
reputation, excellence, and authority. With regard to the present work, it should be
observed that it has passed through seven editions in Germany. As a book of
reference, either for the student or the general reader, its tested usefulness is a
sufficient guaranty for its wide adoption in the present enlarged form. The scope of
The Epitome may be summarized as follows: Universal history is first treated by
dividing it into three periods. First, ancient history, from the earliest historical
information to the year 375 A.D. Second, mediæval, from that date to the
discovery of America, in 1492. Third, modern history, from the last date to the year
1883.

We have received from the author, the Honorable Samuel Abbott Green, M.D., a
pamphlet entitled “Notes on a Copy of Dr. William Douglass’s Almanack for 1743,
touching on the subject of medicine in Massachusetts before his time.” It is
specially interesting to the members of the medical fraternity, as well as to
antiquaries.

Correction.—The article upon
Lovewell’s fight at Pigwacket, printed in the February number of the Bay State (page
83), contained a trifling error, but one which deserves correction. It is stated that
the township of land with which the General Court, in 1774, rewarded the services of
the troops under Lovewell, was subsequently divided, forming the towns of Lovell and
New Sweden. The mistake was upon the name of the latter town. It should have been
written Sweden. New Sweden is the recent Swedish colony of Aroostook County.

I.B.C.

Boar’s Head House

From the eastern end of Long Island, toward the west and south, extends a dreary
monotony of sandbeach along the whole Atlantic coast, to the extreme southern cape of
Florida, thence along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico to the Rio Grande, broken only
by occasional inlets. The picturesque coast scenery is mostly north and east of Cape
Cod. Following along the seaboard from Cape Ann, one comes, a few miles north of the
mouth of the Merrimack River, in view of a bold promontory extending into the waters
of the Atlantic, and aptly named, in years agone, Boar’s Head.

The traveler in search of a delightful seaside resort for the summer need go no
further. For here, amidst the most charming of marine scenery, that veteran landlord
and genial host, Stebbins H. Dumas, has erected, for the benefit of the public, a
hotel, spacious, well appointed, and ably conducted; inviting and especially
homelike; every room commanding a view of the ocean.

Boar’s Head is a promontory; its level summit of about a dozen acres, sixty feet
above the highest tide, clothed in the greenest verdure. It is in the form of a
triangle, the cliffs on two sides of which are lashed by the waves of the restless
ocean; while toward the main, the land falls away gently to the level of the marshes.
The hotel is situate on the crest of this incline. From the veranda, which commands
the landward view, the prospect is wide and pleasing. To the north trends Hampton
Beach in a long sweep to Little Boar’s Head and the shores of Rye and Newcastle;
inland are broad stretches of salt marsh, its surface interwoven with the silver
ribbon of the creek and stream; beyond are glimpses of restful rustic scenes,
improved by near approach; spires pointing heavenward from all the peaceful villages,
and, further away, Agamenticus and the granite hills of New England; to the south,
the beach runs on toward Salisbury and Newburyport. But the great view from Boar’s
Head is from the ocean apex of the promontory. Here, beneath the grateful shade of an
awning, with the waves breaking rythmically at the foot of the cliff far beneath, one
can sit and ponder on the immensity of the ocean and dream of the lands beyond the
horizon. From here the whole seaboard, from Thatcher’s Island to York and Wells, is
in view; the Isles of Shoals loom up on the horizon, while the offing is dotted with
coasters and yachts of every rig and construction. Calm, indeed, must it be when no
wind is felt on Boar’s Head; and during those exceptional days of the summer, when
the land-breeze prevails, the broad verandas around three sides of the hotel afford
the most grateful shade. The broad acres between the house and the bluff is a lawn
for the use of the guests, where croquet and tennis may be highly enjoyed in the
invigorating ocean air.

During the evening, when the atmosphere is clear, there are visible from the Head
thirteen lighthouses. When the shades of night and the dew have driven the guests to
seek shelter within doors, the great parlor affords to the young people ample room
for the cotillion or German, while the reception-room, office, and reading-room lure
the seniors to whist or magazines. Of a Sunday, the dining-room answers for a chapel;
and in years past, the voice of many an eloquent preacher has echoed through the
room, and reached, through the open windows, hardy but devout fishermen on the
outside.

These same fishermen bring great codfish from the outlying shoals, delicious clams
from the flats, canvas-back duck, and teal, and yellow-leg plovers from the marshes,
to tempt the delicate appetite of the valetudinarian.

Boar’s Head is on the seacoast of the old town of Hampton, in the State of New
Hampshire. Taking a team from Mr. Dumas’ well-stocked stable, one will find the most
delightful drives, extending in all directions through the ancient borough. The roads
follow curves, like the drives in Central Park, and two centuries and a half of wear
have rendered them as solid and firm as if macadamized. Three short miles from the
hotel is the station of Hampton, on the Eastern Railroad, by which many trains pass
daily.

For the historical student the region affords much of interest. Here, in the
village of Hampton, in the year 1638, in the month of October, settled the Reverend
Stephen Batchelder [Bachiler] and his followers, intent to serve God in their own way
and establish homes in the wilderness. The river and adjoining country was then known
as Winnicunnett. The settlers, for the most part, came from Norfolk, England, and so
desirable did they find their adopted home that many descendants of the original
grantees occupy to-day the land opened and cleared by their ancestors. In this town,
in 1657, settled Ebenezer Webster, the direct progenitor of the Great Expounder, and
here the family remained for several generations.

Within the limits of the old township, which was bounded on the south by the
present Massachusetts line, on the north by Portsmouth and Exeter, and extended ten
miles inland, were included the territory of some half dozen of the adjoining
townships of to-day. Here lived Meshach Weare, who guided the New Hampshire ship of
state through the troublous times of the Revolution. Over yonder, near the site of
the first log meeting-house, is pointed out the gambrel-roofed house of General
Jonathan Moulton, the great land-owner. He it was, in the good old colony days, who
drove a very large and fat ox from his township of Moultonborough, and delivered it
to the jovial Governor Wentworth as a present to his excellency, and said there was
nothing to pay. When the governor insisted on making some return, General Moulton
informed him that there was an ungranted gore of land adjoining his earlier grant
which he would accept. In this manner he came into possession of the town of New
Hampton—a very ample return for the ox; at least, so asserts tradition.

Colonel Christopher Toppan, in those early days, was largely engaged in
ship-building. For many years the people of Hampton were employed in domestic and
foreign commerce, and it was not until the advent of the railroad that Hampton
surrendered its dreams of commercial aggrandizement.

One road leads up the coast to Rye and Portsmouth; another, through a most
charming country, to Exeter; another, to Salisbury and Newburyport, and many others
inland in every direction.

Boar’s Head is the best base from which to operate to rediscover the whole
adjoining territory.

The first house on the Head was built, in 1808, by Daniel Lamprey, whose son,
Jeremiah Lamprey, began to entertain guests about 1820. The first public house in the
vicinity, a part of the present Boar’s Head House, was built, in 1826, by David Nudd
and associates. From them it came, in 1865, into the possession of Stebbins Hitchcock
Dumas, who, nineteen years before, had commenced hotel life at the Phenix, in
Concord. Under Mr. Dumas’ management the house has grown steadily in size as well as
in popularity, until to-day it ranks as one of the great seaside caravansaries of the
Atlantic coast.

When a fisherman in his wanderings through the forest discovers a pond or stream
well stocked with sparkling trout, he keeps his information to himself, and
frequently revisits his treasure. So is it apt to be with the tourist and
pleasure-seeker. Here, season after season, have appeared the same men and the same
families—noticeably those who appreciate a table supplied with every delicacy
of the season, served up in the most tempting manner.

Has the guest a desire to compete with the fishermen, he is furnished every
convenience, and by a basket of fish “expressed” to some distant friend can
demonstrate his piscatorial powers. On the favoring beach, hard by the hotel, are
bathhouses where one can prepare to sport in the refreshing billows. The halls and
rooms of the hotel were built before those days when those who resort to the seabeach
were expected to be accommodated within the area of their Saratoga trunks. Spacious,
comfortably furnished, each opening on a view of the ocean, the rooms of the hotel
are very attractive and pleasing.

The hotel is opened for the reception of the public early in June, and remains
open into October, before the last guest departs.

The gentle poet, John Greenleaf Whittier, thus writes of Hampton Beach:—