[61]

THE BAY STATE MONTHLY.

A Massachusetts Magazine.
VOL. II.
NOVEMBER, 1884.
No. 2.

Grover Cleveland

Grover Cleveland.

GROVER CLEVELAND.

By HENRY H. METCALF.

Save only that of Ulysses S. Grant, no name in America has come from comparative
obscurity into national eminence in so short a time as that of GROVER CLEVELAND.

The fame of Grant was wrought out through the exigencies of a great civil war, in
which the unity of the Republic was the issue involved. The distinction which
Cleveland has achieved comes of valiant service in another field of conflict, wherein
the issue involves the perpetuity and dominance of the great principles which
constitute the framework and fibre of republican government itself. Under ordinary
circumstances, probably, neither Grant nor Cleveland would have risen above the plane
of every-day life. The same, too, might perhaps justly be said even of Washington. In
the history of human progress it will be seen that every great crisis involving the
triumph of the principles and tendencies which make for the moral, social, or
political advancement of mankind has developed a leader endowed with the special
qualities demanded by the occasion.

The brilliant and self-assertive men who press forward to leadership in ordinary
times, whether impelled by mere love of notoriety, personal ambition, or an honest
desire to promote the welfare of their fellow-men, seldom become masters of the
situation when a supreme emergency arises. They may set in motion great contending
forces; they may precipitate conflicts whose ultimate outcome brings inestimable
benefit to mankind; but other hands and other minds are required to direct the issue
and shape the result. The master spirit of the occasion is born thereof. Ulysses S.
Grant had absolutely no part in bringing about that great conflict of ideas and
systems which culminated in the war of the rebellion; nor had he even figured
prominently in the field of military achievement until long after hostilities were
commenced, and the struggle had assumed proportions entirely unforeseen by, and
actually appalling [62]
to, not only the people themselves, but those In control of active operations in the
field. But the emergency developed the man required to meet it, and Grant came to the
front.

So, too, in this later and greater conflict, which is to test the virtue and
determine the durability of popular government—whose outcome is to decide
whether political parties are to be the mere instruments through which the people
express their will, and whose relations can be changed as the public good may seem to
require, or whether the government itself shall be subordinated to party, and its
functions prostituted for the perpetuation of party ascendency and the aggrandizement
of corrupt and selfish individuals—the leader in whom the hopes of those who
contend for the supremacy of the popular will, the surbordination of party-power to
public welfare, and the administration of the government in the interests of the
whole people, are now thoroughly centred, is one who has gained no distinction in
shaping partisan contests, and won no laurels in the halls of legislation or the
forum of public debate. He is, simply, the man who, in the last few years, first in
one, and then in another still more important position of official responsibility,
has demonstrated more emphatically than any other in recent times (possibly because
circumstances have more generally drawn attention in his direction) his thorough
devotion to the doctrine that public office is a public trust; and has, therefore,
been selected as the best representative and exponent of the popular idea in the
great political conflict about to be brought to an issue.

The purpose and scope of this brief article permit no detailed account of the
private life or public career of Grover Cleveland. Those who have cared to do so have
already familiarized themselves with the same through the ordinary channels; yet, as
a matter of record, a few salient facts may be presented.

Grover Cleveland was born in the village of Caldwell, near Newark, New Jersey,
March 18, 1837. His paternal ancestry was of the substantial English stock.

I. Aaron Cleveland, an early settler in the valley of the Connecticut. He was
liberally educated, and, ardently devoted to the interests of the Church, he
determined to take holy orders, and returned to England for confirmation therein.
Coming back to America he settled in the ministry at East Haddam, Conn. Some fifteen
years later, in August, 1757, he died, while on a visit to Philadelphia, at the
residence of his friend, Benjamin Franklin, then publisher of the Pennsylvania
Gazette
, who spoke of him, in an obituary notice in his paper, as “a gentleman of
a humane and pious disposition, indefatigable in his ministry, easy and affable in
his conversation, open and sincere in his friendship, and above every species of
meanness and dissimulation.”

II. Aaron Cleveland, born at East Haddam, Conn., February 9, 1744. He was a hatter
by trade and located in Norwich, which town he represented in the Legislature, where
he introduced a bill for the abolition of slavery, of which institution he was a
determined opponent. Subsequently he became a Congregational clergyman, and a power
in that denomination. [63] He died at New Haven in 1815.

III. William Cleveland, second son of the above, a silversmith by occupation, also
dwelt in Norwich. His wife was Margaret Falley. He was prosperous in business,
respected in the community, and deacon of the church of which his father had been
pastor for a quarter of a century previous to his decease.

IV. Richard Falley Cleveland, second son of William, born in 1804, graduated from
Yale in 1824 with high honors. He, too, became a clergyman, having adopted the
Presbyterian faith, and pursued his studies at Princeton Theological Seminary, after
serving a year as a tutor in Baltimore, where he made the acquaintance of Miss Anne
Neale, daughter of a prominent law publisher of Irish birth, with whom he united in
marriage after completing his studies, in 1829. He was located in pastorates,
successively, at Windham, Conn.; Portsmouth, Va.; Caldwell, N.J., and Fayetteville,
N.Y. Subsequently, moved by failing health, he sought a change, and, as agent of the
American Home Missionary Society, located at Clinton. Two years later he returned to
pastoral service, though still In feeble health, establishing himself and family at
Holland Patent, a few miles north of the city of Utica. Here he died suddenly, a few
weeks after his removal, leaving to his wife and nine children no other fortune than
the legacy of an honorable name, and the enduring influence of a true and devoted
life.

V. Grover Cleveland, third son and fifth child of Richard Falley and Anne (Neale)
Ceveland, was sixteen years of age when his father died. The sad event necessarily
marked a turning-point in his career. He was forced to look life and duty seriously
in the face, and he proved himself equal to the emergency. It had been a cherished
hope of his boyhood that he might secure the benefit of a classical education at
Hamilton College, from which his eldest brother, William (now a Presbyterian
clergyman at Forestport, N.Y.), had then recently graduated. But this was now out of
the question. He had not only to provide for himself, but he felt bound to aid his
mother in the support of the younger members of the family. The idea of the college
course, for which he had partially fitted himself in the preparatory school at
Clinton, was relinquished, and the battle of life commenced in earnest. He had
already learned something of the lesson of self-reliance, having served for a year or
more as a clerk in a grocery at Fayetteville, and he soon secured a situation as an
assistant in the Institution for the Blind in the city of New York, where his brother
William was then engaged as a teacher. Here he remained nearly two years, faithfully
discharging the duties assigned him, and promptly forwarding to his mother such
portion of his moderate wages as remained after providing for his own personal
necessities. The situation, however, grew irksome. As the young man’s capabilities
developed his ambition was aroused. There was no way of advancement open before him
here, and he felt that his duty to himself, as well as others, demanded that he make
the best practicable use of the powers with which he was endowed. Returning home for
a short visit, and taking counsel with his mother, he [64] soon set out for the “West,” the
field toward which ambitious young men have turned, with hearts full of hope, for the
last half century.

His proposed destination was Cleveland, Ohio; his cherished ambition the study and
practice of the law. He was accompanied on his journey by a young friend of kindred
aspirations. Arriving at Buffalo he called on an uncle, Mr. Lewis F. Allen, who had a
fine stock farm, just out of the city, and who finally induced him to remain there,
promising to secure him admission to a law office in Buffalo. He remained with his
uncle for a time, assisting him in the preparation of the manuscript of the “American
Herd Book,” a work upon which he was then engaged; but in the course of a few months
(in August, 1855) he secured admission as a student in one of the best known law
offices of the city—that of Rogers, Bowen, & Rogers. Blessed with good
health and industrious habits, with an earnest determination to succeed, he entered
upon the work before him. For a time he boarded at his uncle’s house, taking the long
walk to and from the office at morning and night; but after a few months he was
enabled to be of such assistance in the office in clerical and other work, that, from
the modest compensation allowed, he secured lodgings in the city and provided for all
his humble wants.

After four years of unremitting study and toil, he was admitted to the Erie county
bar, having laid the foundation for future professional success in a thorough mastery
of legal principles and all the details of practice, and in those well-established
habits of thought and application by which his subsequent life has been so fully
characterized. He had gained, also, the confidence and esteem of his preceptors and
employers, and after his admission continued with them as confidential clerk in
charge of the office business, receiving a salary which enabled him, then, to
contribute materially to the assistance of his mother in providing for the wants of
the family and maintaining the comforts of the humble home in Holland Patent, toward
which his fondest thoughts have turned in all the years of his busy life, and where
such periods of recreation as he has felt warranted in indulging have mainly been
spent.

In 1863 Mr. Cleveland received an appointment as assistant district attorney for
Erie county, a strong testimonial to the legal abilities of so youthful a
practitioner, considering the array of professional talent in the county and the
responsibilities of the position. The war was then in progress; two brothers, one the
next older, and the other younger than himself, had enlisted in the Union army; and
when, a few months after his appointment, as he had fairly familiarized himself with
the details of important cases intrusted to his care, he was himself drafted, he
pursued the only practicable course, and provided a substitute for the service. In
the fall of 1865, while yet serving as deputy, he was unanimously selected by the
Democratic Nominating Convention as candidate for district attorney. The county was
strongly Republican, but young Cleveland received a support beyond his party strength
and was beaten, by a few hundred majority only, by the Republican nominee, Lyman K.
Bass, [65] then and
since his warm personal friend.

Upon the expiration of his term of service as deputy district attorney, in
January, 1866, he entered actively into practice, having formed a partnership with
the late Isaac K. Vanderpoel, a prominent lawyer and ex-State treasurer. The burden
of the labor fell to the share of the junior partner, and through his close attention
to the interests of clients the business of the firm soon became extensive and the
income fairly remunerative. Three years later the partnership was dissolved, through
the election of Mr. Vanderpoel as police judge, and soon after the new firm of
Cleveland, Laning, & Folsom was formed. In 1870 Mr. Cleveland was urged by
leading Democrats of Erie county to accept the party nomination for sheriff. The
proposition was by no means in accordance with his desires or inclinations. The
office, although a most important one in a large and populous county, and commanding
liberal compensation in fees, was a most thankless one in many respects: its duties,
always delicate and exacting, sometimes disagreeable in the extreme, and its
responsibilities great. It was felt, however, that the acceptance of this nomination
by one who so thoroughly commanded the confidence of the people, and whose
professional training and experience gave him superior qualification for the office,
would insure to the county ticket of the party, with due care in the selection of
other candidates, the strength necessary to success in the election. As a loyal
member of the party to whose principles he had ever been devotedly attached, and in
the support of whose cause he had labored in every consistent capacity since becoming
a voter, he finally yielded, accepted the nomination, and, as had been hoped, was
duly elected along with the entire ticket. He administered the office, upon which he
entered in January following, upon strict business principles, and to the eminent
satisfaction of the courts, the bar, and the public at large, during the full term of
three years. There were no duties, however irksome, from which he shrank; no
responsibilities which he failed to meet in a becoming manner; and when, on the first
of January, 1874, his term expired and he returned to his legal practice, it was with
a larger measure of popular esteem than he had ever before enjoyed.

In resuming professional labor he formed a partnership with his friend and former
antagonist, Lyman K. Bass, Mr. Wilson S. Bissel also becoming a member of the firm.
Now thirty-seven years of age, with mental powers thoroughly developed, and a
capacity for labor far greater than that with which most men are favored, he was
eminently well equipped for substantial achievement in his chosen field of effort;
and it is not too much to say that, in the next seven years, during which he gave
uninterrupted attention to the work, he accomplished as much in the way of honest
professional triumph as any lawyer in Western New York. He sought no mere personal
distinction, but put his heart into his work, and practically made his clients’
interests his own. His judgment was sound, his industry indefatigable, his integrity
unquestioned. He was eminently well fitted for judicial service, but could never be
induced to put himself [66] in the way of preferment in that direction. He was always
the “working member” of the firms with which he was connected. As an advocate, he
made no pretensions to brilliancy; but in the preparation of cases, and in the cogent
statement of principles involved, as well as in the effective presentation of
pertinent facts, he found no superiors, and few equals, among his associates at the
bar.

Caring nothing for the pecuniary rewards of labor, beyond the provision for his
own modest wants and the comfort of those, in a measure, depending upon his
assistance, Mr. Cleveland has accumulated no large fortune; although, with the
opportunities at hand, had he made wealth his object, he might have secured it. On
the other hand, he has befriended many a poor client to his own cost; and, while
failing in many cases to collect the fees which were his due, he has contributed to
public and private charities with a liberal, but unostentatious hand. Though he has
never posed as a “working-men’s candidate” for official preferment, the laboring
people of his city and section have long known him as the true and sympathetic friend
of every honest son and daughter of toil.

When, in the autumn of 1881, the people of the great city of Buffalo, the third in
the Empire State in population, and the second in commercial importance, tired of the
corruption, the robbery, and oppression of the ring rule, which had fastened its grip
upon them under long years of Republican ascendency, turned at last to the Democratic
party for relief, the Democracy of the city saw in Grover Cleveland the one man of
all others with whom as their candidate for mayor, they might reasonably hope to win,
not simply a partisan triumph, but a victory for honest government in which all
patriotic citizens might well rejoice. Much against his own will, after repeated
solicitation on the part of leading Democrats, and many Republicans, who appreciated
his character and fitness, he again consented to become the candidate of his party
for responsible office; and, at the election which followed, so great was the desire
for a change in municipal matters, and so general the confidence in Mr. Cleveland as
the man under whose direction the needed reform might be effected, that his majority
for mayor was about three thousand five hundred, or nearly the same figure with which
the Republican ticket had ordinarily triumphed.

Entering upon the duties of his office as mayor, January 1, 1882, he soon gave
practical assurance of the fact that the people of Buffalo had made no mistake in the
selection of their chief municipal servant. In his first message to the Common
Council, which was replete with sound, practical suggestions, he said:—

It seems to me that a successful and faithful administration of the government
of our city may be accomplished by constantly bearing in mind that we are the
trustees and agents of our fellow-citizens, holding their funds in sacred trust to
be expended for their benefit; that we should at all times be prepared to render an
honest account to them touching the matter of its expenditure; and that the affairs
of the city should be conducted as far as possible upon the same principles as a
good businessman manages his private concerns.

[67]

It suffices to say that, so far as the mayor himself was concerned, and so far as
his power and influence extended, he lived up fully to the letter and spirit of this
suggestion. Although hampered by an adverse political majority in the Common Council,
still measurably under the influence of the old rings, and more intent upon
preventing the mayor from winning public favor which might, perchance, inure to the
benefit of his party (though standing himself entirely beyond party in his relations
to the public welfare), than upon the faithful discharge of their own duties, he
succeeded, by the force of his own earnest personality, by searching investigation
into the workings of all the departments of city affairs, by the ruthless exposure
and denunciation of various corrupt schemes of jobbery and plunder, and by the
persistent recommendation of measures and methods which commended themselves to his
judgment, in accomplishing much in the way of the reform for which his election had
been sought. He used the veto power with a vigor and a significance which had
characterized the action of no predecessor in the office, and often regardless of the
fact that its exercise might be distorted by designing enemies, personal or
political, to insure him at least the temporary disapprobation of large classes of
citizens; but he used it only when fully satisfied, through patient research and
careful deliberation, that duty and obligation imperatively required it. It is
conceded that in his brief year’s administration he saved a million of dollars to the
city treasury, stamped out numerous abuses, and stimulated the spirit of faithful
devotion in various branches of the municipal service. Men of all parties unite in
saying that the city of Buffalo was never favored with the services of a more
faithful, conscientious, and thoroughly impartial executive head.

But he was not to continue the work of administrative reform in that particular
field of labor. The people had called him “up higher.” His reputation as a true
Democrat, an honest reformer, and a faithful public servant, had spread abroad
through the State, and when the Democratic State Convention assembled in the early
autumn of that year it was clearly apparent that the nomination of Grover Cleveland,
the reform mayor of Buffalo, as the candidate of the party for the supreme magistracy
of the Empire State, was the one certain guaranty of overwhelming Democratic victory
at the polls. That nomination was promptly made, and the result which followed was
without parallel in the annals of American political history. He was elected governor
by a majority of nearly two hundred thousand, and, although internal dissensions in
the Republican party, then existing, contributed largely to the general result, the
most significant feature of the election is found in the fact that the largest
relative Democratic gain was made in his own county of Erie, where he received
upwards of seven thousand majority against more than three thousand majority for
Garfield in the last presidential election, showing him strongest before the people
where his personal character and attributes, as well as his qualifications for
positions of high public trust, are most thoroughly known.

[68]

As governor of New York, which position he has occupied for the last twenty
months, first with a Democratic and later with a Republican legislature, Mr.
Cleveland has followed the same rule of official conduct adopted for his guidance in
other positions. Mindful of all proper obligations to his own political party, he has
never permitted party demands to stand in the way of his duty to the public and the
State. Believing, to quote his own language, “in an open and sturdy partisanship
which secures the legitimate advantages of party supremacy,” he also believes that
parties were made for the people, and declares himself “unwilling, knowingly, to give
assent to measures purely partisan which will sacrifice or endanger the people’s
interests.” In the office of governor, as well as in that of mayor, he has made
vigorous but discriminate use of the veto power, and in the one case, as in the
other, it has invariably been found, upon candid investigation, that his action has
been taken under a profound sense of the binding authority of the fundamental law,
and with an unflinching regard for the rights and interests of the whole
people,—however violent, at times, may have been the denunciation of demagogic
opponents, or clamorous the protests of those who sought merely temporary advantages
in particular directions, regardless of ultimate results upon the general welfare. In
this, as in other positions, his general line of action has been such as to command
the hearty approval of patriotic men of all parties; and if he has incurred the
hostility of any, it has been through his opposition to the schemes of corrupt rings
and the purposes of selfish individuals, which he regarded detrimental to the public
good; or through his support of wholesome measures, calculated to protect the body
politic, and thwart their illegitimate designs in other directions.

And now, Grover Cleveland stands before the people of the whole country the duly
nominated candidate of the Democratic party for the highest office in the gift of the
Republic; while his candidacy is indorsed and enthusiastically supported by tens of
thousands of pure and unselfish men of the opposite party, who see, through his
election, the only hope of a return to constitutional methods and honest practices in
the administration of the Federal Government, without which ere long the complete and
irremediable subversion and destruction of the government itself will be
accomplished. This candidacy comes not through his own seeking. Grover Cleveland
never sought an office in all his life. He has consented to serve his fellow-citizens
in public station only at their solicitation and command. He has served them
faithfully and well so far as he has been called, and none need fear that, if called
to still higher responsibilities and a broader field of duty, he will not prove equal
to the emergency—equally true to himself and his trust.

Grover Cleveland is a man “cast in nature’s noblest mould.” Of commanding
presence, with a physical development commensurate with his mental powers, thoroughly
democratic in habit and manner, accessible to all, meeting the humblest and highest
upon equal terms, sympathizing heartily with the honest laborer [69] in every field of action, frank and
outspoken in his opinions, hating hypocrisy and sham with all his soul, fighting
corruption and dishonesty wherever he finds them, respecting the opinions and
listening to the suggestions of others, but acting invariably in accordance with his
own convictions of right, he fills the perfect measure of honest manhood; and whether
he be President of the American Republic, or simple citizen, he will never, it is
safe to assume, forfeit either his own self-respect, or the confident regard of his
fellow-men.


BOUNDARY LINES OF OLD GROTON.—IV.

BY THE HON. SAMUEL ABBOTT GREEN.

About this time it was proposed to form a new township from Groton, Lancaster, and
Harvard, including a small parcel of land, known as Stow Leg, a strip of territory
perhaps two hundred rods in width and a mile in length, lying west of the Nashua
river. This “Leg” had belonged originally to Stow, but by the incorporation of
Harvard had become wholly detached from that town. The proposed township covered
nearly the same territory as that now occupied by Shirley. The attempt, however, does
not appear to have been successful. The following covenant, signed by certain
inhabitants of the towns interested in the movement, is on file, and with it a rough
plan of the neighborhood; but I find no other allusion to the matter either in
petitions or records.

“We the Subscribers being Inhabitants of the Extream Parts of Groton Lancaster
and Harvard as allso the Proprietors of the Land belonging to the Town of Stow
(which Land is Scituate, Lying and being Between the Towns above said Namely Groton
Lancaster and Harvard) Do Covenant and Promise to and with Each other And We Do
Hereby of our own Free Will and Motion In the Exercise of Love and Charity Towards
one another with Mutual Consent in the strongest Manner Binding our Selves the
Subscribers each and every of us Conjointly one to another (for the Gosples Sake)
Firmly Covenanting and Promising to and with Each other that we will as Speedely as
may be with Conveniency Petition the Several Towns to which we Respectively belong
and Likewise the Great and General Court That we may be Erected or Incorporated
into a Destinct and separate Township of our Selves with those Lands within the
Bounds and Limits Here after Described viz Beginning at the River called Lancaster
[Nashua] River at the turning of Sd River Below the Brige called John Whits Brige
& Runing Northerly to Hell Pond and on Still to the Line Betwixt Harvard and
Groton Including John Farwell then to Coyecus Brook Leaveing the Mills and Down
Said Brook to the River and down Said River to the Rye ford way then Runing
Westerly to the Northerly End of Horse Pond & so on to Luningburg Line,
Including Robert Henry & Daniel Page and then Runing Southerly Extendig Beyound
Luningburg So far Into Lancaster as that Running Easterly the Place on which Ralph
Kindal formerly Lived Shall be Included and so on Running Easterly to the Turn in
the River first mentioned

Moreover we Do Covenant Promise and Engage Truly and Faithfully that will
Consent to and Justifie any Petition that Shall be Prefered in our names and behalf
to our Respective Towns and to the Great & [70] General Court for the Ends and
Purposes above Mentioned

Furthermore we Do Covenant Promise and Engage as above that we will advance
money for and Pay all Such Reasonable and necessary Charges that may arise in the
Prosecuting and Obtaining our Said Petitions and that we will Each and Every of us
Respectively Endever to Promote and Maintain Peace Unity Concord and Good Agreement
amoungst our Selves as Becometh Christians

And now haveing thus Covenanted as above Said We Do Each and Every one of us who
have Hereunto Subscribed Protest and Declare that Every Article and Parigraph and
Thing Containd in the above Writen Shall be Absolutely and Unacceptionably Binding
in Manner and form as above Declared and Shall So Continue upon and Against Each
and Every one of us untill we are Erected or Incorporated Into a Township as above
said or that Provedance Shall Remove us by Death or Otherways any thing to the
Contrary Notwithstanding

Witness our Hands the Eight Day of December one Thousand Seven Hundred and
Fourty Seven and in the Twentieth Year Of His Majesties Reign Georg the Secund King
&c

    Harvard

Richard hall
Jonn Bigelow
Joseph Hutchins
Simeon Farnsworth
Timothy hall
Phenihas Farnsworth
Amos Russll
Johnathan—Read
Jonathan Read iu
Abijah Willard

    Groton

Samuel Hazen
Joseph Preist
Samell flood
John pearce
Charles Richards
Daniel Page
John Longley jn’r
Abijah Willard
Manasser Divoll
John Osgood
Abijah Frost
John Peirce hous rite

    Lancaster

Henry Haskell
John Nicholls
Thomas Wright
William Willard
Joshua Johnson
Daniel Willard
Joseph Priest
William Farmer
Joseph Bond
Henry Willard
Benjamin Willard
Jacob Houghton
Corp Elias Sawyer
Amos Am Atherton

    Stow

John Houghton Ju
John Sampson
Joseph Brown
Hannah Brown
Samuel Randal
Benjamin Samson

[Massachusetts Archives, CXV., 220-222.]

Hell Pond, mentioned in this covenant, is situated in the northwest part of
Harvard, and so called “from its amazing depth,” says the Reverend Peter Whitney, in
the History of Worcester County (page 158).

Two years after this covenant was signed, another attempt was made to divide the
town, but it did not succeed. The lines of the proposed township included nearly the
same territory as the present ones of Shirley. The following references to the scheme
are found, under their respective dates, in the printed Journal of the House of
Representatives:—

A Petition of sundry Inhabitants of Groton and Lunenburg, praying
they may be erected into a distinct and seperate [71] Township or Precinct, agreable to
the Plan therewith exhibited, for the Reasons mentioned.

Read and Ordered, That the Petitioners serve the Town of Lunenburg, and
the first Parish in Groton, with Copies of this Petition, that they shew
Cause, if any they have, on the 29th of December next, if the Court be then
Sitting, if not on the first Friday of the next Sitting of this Court, why the
Prayer thereof should not be granted.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 100), November 30, 1749.]

Samuel Watts, Esq; brought down the Petition of sundry Inhabitants of
Lunenburg and Groton, as entred the 30th of November last, and
refer’d. Pass’d in Council, viz. In Council December 29th 1749. Read
again, with the Answer of the Town of Lunenburg, and Ordered, That
the Consideration of this Petition be refer’d to the second Wednesday of the next
Sitting of this Court. Sent down for Concurrence.

With a Petition from sundry Inhabitants of Lunenburg, praying to be set
off from said Town of Leominster. Pass’d in Council, viz In Council
December 29th 1749. Read and Ordered, That the Petitioners serve the
Town of Lunenburg, with a Copy of this petition, that they shew Cause, if
any they have, on the second Wednesday of the next Sitting of this Court, why the
Prayer thereof should not be granted.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 143), December 29, 1749.]

John Chandler, Esq; brought down the Petitions of John Whitney,
and others of the westerly Part of Groton, and the easterly Part of the Town
of Lunenburgh, and Edward Hartwell, Esq; and others of said Town,
Pass’d in Council, -viz. In Council April 4th 1750. Ordered,
That Samuel Watts, James Minot, and John Otis, Esqrs; with such as
the honourable House shall join, be a Committee to consider the Petitions
above-mentioned, and the several Answers thereto, hear the Parties, and report what
they judge proper for the Court to do thereon.

Sent down for Concurrence.

Read and concur’d, and Mr. Rice, Capt. Livermore, Col.
Richards, and Mr. Daniel Pierce, are joined in the Affair.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 214), April 5, 1750.]

Joseph Wilder, Esq., brought down the Report of a Committee of both
Houses, on the Petition of John Whitney, and others, as entred the 30th of
November last, and refer’d. Signed James Minott, per Order.

Pass’d in Council, viz. In Council June 21, 1750. Read and
Voted, That this Report be not accepted, and that the Petition of John
Whitney
and others therein refer’d to, be accordingly dismiss’d, and that the
Petitioners pay the Charge of the Committee.

Send down for Concurrence. Read and concur’d.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 41), June 22, 1750.]

A Petition of sundry Inhabitants of the westerly Part of Groton, and the
easterly Part of Lunenburg, praying that their Memorial and Report thereon,
which was dismiss’d the 22d of June last, may be revived and reconsidered,
for the Reasons mentioned.

Read and Ordered, That Mr. Turner, Mr. Tyng, and Major
Jones with such as the honourable Board shall join, be a Committee to take
this Petition under Consideration, and report what they judge proper to be done
thereon. Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (pages 76, 77), October 3, 1750.]

John Greenleafe, Esq.; brought down the Petition of sundry Inhabitants of
Groton and Lunenburg, as entred the 3d Currant, and referr’d. Pass’d
in Council, viz. In Council October 3d 1750. Read and nonconcur’d,
and Ordered, That this Petition be dismiss’d.

Sent down for Concurrence.

Read and nonconcur’d, and Ordered, [72] That the Petitioner serve the Town of Lunenburg
with a Copy of this Petition, that they shew Cause, if any they have, on the second
Wednesday of the next Sitting of this Court, why the Prayer thereof should not be
granted.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 93), October 9, 1750.]

A Memorial of John Whitney and others of the Southwesterly Part of
Groton, praying that their Petition exhibited in November 1749 may be
revived, and the Papers prefer’d at that Time again considered, for the Reasons
mentioned.

Read and Ordered, That the Petition lie on the Table.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 64), October 9, 1751.]

Ordered, That the Petition of John Whitney and others of the
Southwesterly Part of Groton, lie upon the Table.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 81), January 3, 1752.]

The Memorial of John Whitney and others, as entred October 9th
1751, Inhabitants of the Southwesterly Part of Groton and the Eastwardly
Part of Lunenberg, setting forth that in November 1749, they
preferred a Petition to this Court, praying to be set off from the Towns to which
they belong, and made into a distant [distinct?] and seperate Town and Parish, for
the Reasons therein mentioned; praying that the aforesaid Memorial and Petition,
with the Report of the said Committee thereon, and all the Papers thereto
belonging, may be revived, and again taken into consideration.

Read again, and the Question was put, Whether the Prayer of the Petition
should be so far granted as that the petition and Papers accompanying it should be
revived
?

It pass’d in the Negative. And Voted, That the Memorial be dismiss’d.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 92), January 9, 1753.]

The discussion in regard to the division of the town resulted in setting off the
district of Shirley, on January 5, 1753, three months before the district of
Pepperell was formed. In the Act of Incorporation the name was left blank, as it was
in the one incorporating Pepperell, and “Shirley” was filled in at the time of its
engrossment. It was so named after William Shirley, the governor of the province at
that period. It never was incorporated specifically as a town, but became one by a
general Act of the Legislature, passed on March 23, 1786. It was represented, while a
district, in the session of the General Court which met at Watertown, on July 19,
1775, as well as in the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, and thus tacitly
acquired the powers and privileges of a town, which were afterward confirmed by the
act just mentioned.

The act for establishing the district of Shirley is as follows:—

Anno Regni Regis Georgii Secundi Vicesimo Sexto.

An Act for dividing the Town of Groton and making a District by the Name
of….

Whereas the Inhabitants of the Southwesterly part of the Town of Groton by
Reason of the Difficulties they labour under being remote from the place of the
publick worship of God have addressed this Court to be Sett off a Separate District
whereunto the Inhabitants of Said Town have Manifested their Consent Be it
therefore enacted by the Lieutenant Governour Council and House of Representatives
that the Southwestwardly part of the Town of Groton Comprehended within the
following boundaries viz begining at the the [sic] mouth of Squanacook River
where it runs into Lancaster [Nashua] River from thence up Said Lancaster River
till it Comes to Land belonging to the Township of Stow thence Westwardly bounding
Southwardly to said Stow Land tilll it comes to the Southwest Corner of the
Township of Groton thence Northwardly bounding westwardly to Luningburgh [73] and Townsend to
Squanacook River aforesd thence down said River and Joyning thereto to the mouth
thereof being the first bound—Be and hereby is Sett off from the said Town of
Groton and Erected into a Separate and Distinct District by the name of … and
that the Inhabitants thereof be and hereby are Vested with all the powers
priviledges and Immunities which the Inhabitants of any Town within this Province
do or by law ought to Enjoy Excepting only the Priviledge of choosing a
Representative to represent them in the Great & General Court, in choosing of
whom the Inhabitants of Said District Shall Joyn with the Inhabitants of the Town
of Groton, as heretofore has been Usual, & also in paying said
Representative

Provided nevertheless the Said District Shall pay their proportionable part of
all such Town County Parish and Province Charges as are already Assessed upon the
Town of Groton in like manner as though this Act had never been made.

And Be it further Enacted that Mr Jno. Whitney be and hereby is impowred to
Issue his Warrant directed to Some principal Inhabitant in sd District requireing
Him to Notifie & warn the Inhabitants of Sd District qualified by law to vote
in Town affairs to meet at Such Time & place as shall be therein Set forth to
Choose all such officers as Shall be Necessary to manage the affairs of sd
District

In the House of Repives June 4, 1752

Read three several times and pass’d to be Engross’d

T. HUBBARD Spkr.

Sent up for concurrence

In Council Novr. 28, 1752 Read a first Time 29 a second Time and pass’d a
Concurrence

THOs. CLARKE Dpty Secry.

[Massachusetts Archives, CXVI., 293, 294.]

This act did not take effect until January 5, 1753, when it was signed by the
governor.

On June 3, 1771, thirty years after Groton Gore had been lost by the running of
the provincial line, the proprietors of the town held a meeting, and appointed
Lieutenant Josiah Sawtell, Colonel John Bulkley, and Lieutenant Nathaniel Parker, a
committee to petition the General Court for a grant of land to make up for this loss.
They presented the matter to that body on June 7, and the following entry in the
records gives the result:—

The Committee on the Petition of Josiah Sartel, and others, reported.

Read and accepted, and Whereas it appears to this Court, That the Proprietors
aforesaid, had a Grant made to them by the General Court in
April 1735, of
Ten Thousand, Eight Hundred Acres of Land, in Consideration of Land taken from
said
Groton by Littleton, Major Willard and Read’s
Farms being prior Grants, and for their extraordinary Suffering in the former
Indian Wars and in
June 1736 said Grant was confirmed to said Proprietors,
since which Time, the said Proprietors have been entirely dispossessed of said Land
by the running of the Line between this Province and
New-Hampshire: And
whereas it appears there has been no Compensation made to the said Proprietors
of
Groton, for the Lands lost as aforesaid, excepting Three Thousand Acres
granted in
November last, to James Prescot, William Prescot, and
Oliver Prescot for their Proportion thereof. Therefore Resolved, That
in Lieu thereof, there be granted to the Proprietors of Groton, their Heirs
and Assigns forever, Seven Thousand and Eight Hundred Acres of the unappropriated
Lands belonging to this Province, in the Western Part of the Province, to be layed
out adjoining to some former Grant, and that they return a Plan thereof, taken by a
Surveyor and Chainmen under Oath into the Secretary’s Office, within twelve Months
for Confirmation.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 44), June 13, 1771.]

[74]

These conditions, as recommended by the report of the committee, appear to have
been fulfilled, and a grant was accordingly made. It lay on the eastern border of
Berkshire county, just south of the central part, and was described as
follows:—

The Committee on a Plan of a Tract of Land granted to the Proprietors of
Groton, reported.

Read and accepted, and Resolved, That the Plan hereunto annexed,
containing three Thousand nine Hundred and sixty Acres of Province Land, laid out
in Part to satisfy a Grant made by the Great and General Court at their Sessions in
June 1771, to the Proprietors of Groton, in Lieu of Land they lost by the
late running of the New-Hampshire Line, as mention’d in their Petition, laid
out in the County of Berkshire, and is bounded as followeth, viz. Beginning
at a Burch Tree and Stones laid round it the Southwest Corner of
Tyringham-Equivalent Lands standing on the East Branch of Farmington
River; then North eighteen Degrees East in the West Line of said Equivalent
five Hundred and sixty-one Rods to a small Beach Tree and Stones laid round it,
which Tree is the Southeast Corner of a Grant of Land called Woolcut’s
Grant; then running West eighteen Degrees North in the South Line of said Grant two
Hundred and forty Rods to a Beach Tree marked I.W. and Stones laid round it, which
is the Southwest Corner of said Grant; then running North eighteen Degrees East in
the West Line of said Grant four Hundred Rods to a Heap of Stones which is the
Northwest Corner of said Grant; then running East eighteen Degrees South two
Hundred and forty Rods in the North Line of said Grant to a large Hemlock Tree and
Stones laid round it, which is the Northeast Corner of said Grant; it is also the
Northwest Corner of said Equivalent, and the Southwest Corner of a Grant
called Taylors Grant; then running North eighteen Degrees East one Hundred
and sixty Rods in the West Line of said Taylors Grant to the Northwest
Corner of the same; then running East nine Degrees South in the Line of said
Taylors Grant eight Hundred Rods to a Stake and Stones standing in the West
Line of Blanford, marked W.T. then running North eighteen Degrees East in
said Blanford West Line five Hundred and thirty Rods to a Beach Tree and
Stones laid round it which is the Northwest Corner of said Blanford; then
running East ten Degrees South forty-two Rods in the North Line of said
Blanford to a Stake and Stones which is the Southwest Corner of
Merryfield; then running North ten Degrees East in said Merryfield
West Line three Hundred and three Rods to a Heap of Stones the Southeast Corner of
Becket; then running West two Degrees South in said Becket South Line
four Hundred and twenty-six Rods to the Northeast Corner of a Grant of Land called
Belcher’s Grant; then running South in the East Line of said Belchers
Grant two Hundred and sixteen Rods to a small Maple Tree marked T.R. which is the
Northwest Corner of a Grant of Land called Rand’s Grant; then running East
in the North Line of said Rand’s Grant two Hundred and fifty Rods to a
Hemlock Pole and Stones laid round it, which is the Northeast Corner of said
Rand’s Grant; then running South in the East Line of said Rand’s
Grant three Hundred and thirty-one Rods to a Hemlock Tree marked and Stones laid
round it, which is the Southeast Corner of said Rand’s Grant; then running
West in the South Line of said Rand’s Grant two Hundred and fifty Rods to a
Beach Pole marked T.R. the Southwest Corner of said Rand’s Grant; then
running North in the West Line of said Rand’s Grant eighty-three Rods to the
Southeast Corner of said Belcher’s Grant; then running West bounding North
three Hundred and forty-eight on said Belcher’s Grant and four Hundred and
fifty-three Rods on a Grant called Chandler’s Grant, then running North on
the West Line of said Chandler’s Grant four Hundred and sixty to said
Becket’s South Line; then running West in said Becket South Line
twenty Rods to a Stake and Stones the [75] North West Corner of additional Lands belonging to the
Four Housatonick Townships; then running South two Degrees West one Thousand
four Hundred and eighty-eight Rods in the East Line of said additional Lands to the
Place where the said East Line crosses said Farmington River; then Southerly
or down Stream three Hundred and thirty Rods to the first Bounds, bounding Westerly
on said River, be accepted, and is hereby accepted and confirmed unto the
Proprietors of Groton aforesaid, their Heirs and Assigns forever.
Provided the same doth not exceed the Quantity aforementioned, nor interfere
with any former Grant.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (pages 182, 183). April 24, 1772.]

I am unable to say how or when this territory was disposed of by the proprietors.
Seven or eight years before this time, James, William, and Oliver Prescott, acting
for themselves, had petitioned the General Court for a tract of land to make up their
own losses. They were the sons of the Honorable Benjamin Prescott, through whose
influence and agency the original Groton Gore was granted, and they were also the
largest proprietors of the town. The following extracts from the Journal of the House
relate to their application:—

A Petition of James Prescot, and others, Children and Heirs of
Benjamin Prescot, late of Groton, Esq; deceased, praying a Grant of
the unappropriated Lands of this Province, in consideration of sundry Tracts which
they have lost by the late running of the Line between this Government and
New-Hampshire.

Read and committed to Col. Clap, Col. Nickols, Col.
Williams of Roxbury, Col. Buckminster, and Mr.
Lancaster, to consider and Report.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 187), January 12, 1764.]

On February 3, 1764, this petition was put over to the May Session, but I do not
find that it came up for consideration at that time. It does not appear again for
some years.

A Petition of James Prescot, Esq; and others, praying that a Grant of
Land may be made them in Lieu of a former Grant, which falls within the
New-Hampshire Line.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 129), November 2, 1770.]

This petition was referred to a committee consisting of Dr. Samuel Holten, of
Danvers, Colonel Joseph Gerrish, of Newbury, and Mr. Joshua Bigelow, of
Worcester.

The Committee on the Petition of James Prescot, Esq; and others,
reported.

Read and accepted, and Resolved, That in Lieu of Lands mentioned in the
Petition, there be granted to the Petitioners, their Heirs and Assigns, Four
Thousand Four Hundred Acres of the unappropriated Lands belonging to the Province,
to be laid out in the Westerly Part thereof, adjoining to some former Grants,
provided they can find the same; or Five Thousand Eight Hundred and Eighty Acres of
the unappropriated Lands lying on the Easterly side of Saco River; it being
their Proportion in said Grant: And return a Plan thereof taken by a Surveyor and
Chainman under Oath, into the Secretary’s Office within Twelve Months.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 156), November 14, 1770.]

The Committee appointed to consider the Plan of two Tracts of Land granted to
James Prescot, Esq; and others, reported.

Read and accepted. Resolved, That both the above Plans, the one
containing Four Thousand one Hundred and thirty Acres, the other containing two
Hundred and seventy Acres, delineated and described as is set forth by the Surveyor
in the Description thereof hereunto annexed, be accepted, and hereby is confirmed
to [76] James
Prescot
, Esq; and others named in their Petition, and to their Heirs and
Assigns in Lieu of and full Satisfaction for Four Thousand four Hundred Acres of
Land lost by the late running of the Line between this Province and
New-Hampshire, as mention’d in a Grant made by both Houses of the Assembly,
A.D. 1765, but not consented to by the Governor. Provided both said Plans
together do not exceed the Quantity of Four Thousand four Hundred Acres, nor
interfere with any former Grant.

Sent up for Concurrence.

[Journal of the House of Representatives (page 73), June 22, 1771.]

It is evident from these reports that the Prescott brothers took the forty-four
hundred acres in the westerly part of the province, rather than the fifty-eight
hundred and eighty acres on the easterly side of the Saco river, though I have been
unable to identify, beyond a doubt, the tract of land thus granted. I am inclined to
think however, that it is the one mentioned in the Memorial of the One Hundredth
Anniversary of the Incorporation of Middlefield, Massachusetts, August 15, 1883. The
town is situated on the westerly border of Hampshire County,—forming a jog into
Berkshire,—and was made up in part of Prescott’s Grant. A map is given in the
“Memorial” volume (page 16) which shows that the Grant was originally in Berkshire
county, very near to the tract of land given to the proprietors of Groton.

Professor Edward P. Smith, of Worcester, delivered an historical address on the
occasion of the anniversary, and he says:—

Prescott’s Grant, the nucleus of the town, appears as a large quadrilateral,
containing more than a thousand acres in the north and west part of the town. Who
the Prescott was to whom the grant was made is not known, further than that he must
have been some one who had rendered military or other services to the State. That
he was the Prescott who commanded at Bunker Hill is, indeed, possible; but, as the
grant was probably made before the Revolutionary War, that supposition seems hardly
tenable. (Page 15.)

By an act of the General Court, passed February 25, 1793, a large section of
territory was taken from Groton and annexed to Dunstable. This change produced a very
irregular boundary between the two towns, and made, according to Butler’s History of
Groton (page 66), more than eighty angles in the line, causing much inconvenience.
The following copy from the “Laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts” gives the
names of the families thus transferred:—

An Act to set off Caleb Woods, and others, from Groton, and to
annex them to Dunstable.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in General Court
assembled, and by the authority of the same
, That Caleb Woods, Silas Blood,
Amaziah Swallow, Nathaniel Cummings, Ebenezer Procter, Silas Blood
, jun.
Silas Marshall, Levi Parker, Amos Woods, Isaac Lawrence, Peter Blood, Caleb
Blood
, jun. Henry Blood, Caleb Woods, jun. and Silas Marshall,
jun., together with their families and estates, and also the estates of Doctor
Jonas Marshall, the heirs of Captain Solomon Woods, deceased, and
Joseph Parkhurst, which they now own in said Groton, be, and they are
hereby set off from the town of Groton, in the county of Middlesex,
and annexed to Dunstable, in said county, and shall hereafter be considered
a part of the same, there to do duty and receive privileges, as the other
inhabitants of said Dunstable. Provided, nevertheless, That the persons
above-mentioned shall pay all taxes that have been legally assessed on [77] them by said
Groton, in the same manner as if this Act had never been passed.

[This act passed February 25, 1793.]

The zigzag line caused by this act was somewhat modified by the two following
ones, passed at different times a few years later. I think that the very irregular
boundary between the two towns, with its eighty-six angles, as mentioned by Mr.
Butler, was produced by the subsequent annexations to Dunstable.

An Act to set of Nathaniel Lawrence with his Estate, from the Town of
Groton, and annex them to the Town of Dunstable.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in General Court
assembled, and by the authority of the same
, That Nathaniel Lawrence of
Groton, in the county of Middlesex, together with his estate, which
he now owns in that town, be, and hereby is set off from said town of
Groton, and annexed to the town of Dunstable, in the same county; and
shall hereafter be considered as part of the same; there to do duty and receive
privileges as other inhabitants of said town of Dunstable: Provided
nevertheless
, That the said Nathaniel Lawrence shall be holden to pay
all taxes that have been legally assessed on him by said town of Groton, in
the same manner as if this Act had not been passed.

[This act passed January 26, 1796.]

An act to set off Willard Robbins with his estate from the town of
Groton, in the county of Middlesex, and to annex the same to the town
of Dunstable, in the same county.

Sec. 1. Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in General
Court assembled, and by the authority of the same
. That Willard Robbins, of
Groton, in the county of Middlesex, with his estate, be, and hereby
is set off from said town of Groton, and annexed to the town of
Dunstable, in said county, there to do duty and receive privileges in the
same manner as other inhabitants of the said town of Dunstable.

Sec. 2. And be it further enacted, That the said Willard Robbins shall be
holden to pay and discharge all legal assessments and taxes, that have been
assessed upon him by said town of Groton prior to the passing this act.

[This act passed June 18, 1803.]

The boundary between the two towns now remained unchanged until February 15, 1820,
when another act was passed by the Legislature making a further surrender of
territory. It took a considerable parcel of land and gave it to Dunstable, thereby
straightening and simplifying the jurisdictional line, which at this time formed but
five angles.

In the autumn of 1794 a plan of Groton, Pepperell, and Shirley was made by Dr.
Oliver Prescott, Jr., which gives a few interesting facts. The following notes are
taken from the copy now in the office of the Secretary of State. It will be seen that
Dr. Prescott refers to the land set off by the Act of February 25, 1793:—

This Plan contains the Bounds of three Towns, viz. Groton, Pepperrell &
Shirley,—all which, together with whatsoever is delineated on said Plan, was
taken by an actual Survey, agreeably to a resolve of the General Court, passed June
25, 1794, & under the Inspection of the Selectmen & Committee’s from the
respective towns, appointed for that purpose in the month of Septr. 1794.

By OLIVER PRESCOTT, Jur. Surveyor.

The reputed distance of Groton from Cambridge [the shire-town] is Thirty two
Miles, & from Boston Thirty five miles; The River Nashua is from 8 to 10 rods
in width. The River Squannacoock 4 or 5 rods in width. In Groton are twenty [78] natural Ponds, six
of which are delineated on the Plan, by actual Survey. Several of the other Ponds
are in size, nearly equal to those on the plan, & may in the whole contain
about two Thousand Acres. There are no Mines in said Town, except one of Iron Ore,
nearly exhausted. Every other Matter directed to be delineated, described or
specifyed, may be found on the Plan.

SAMll LAWRENCE} ZACHh FITCH} Committee. OLIVER PRESCOTT Jur.}

The reputed distance of Pepperrell from Cambridge is thirty seven miles; from
Boston forty Miles.

The River Nissitisset is about four Rods in width.

The reputed distance of Shirley from Cambridge is thirty five Miles; & from
Boston thirty Eight Miles.

Catacoonamug & Mulpus Brooks are from one to two Rods in width. The Plan
contains every thing relative to the two last mentioned Towns necessary to be
described.

OLIVER PRESCOTT, Jur.

What is enclosed in this Blue line, contains about the quantity of Land set off
from Groton to Dunstable, by Act of the General Court, passed February 25, 1793. As
by said Act, the petitioners and their Farms were set off, without specifying
particular bounds, Accuracy cannot be obtained, with respect to this Line, without
very great expence and Trouble.

By an act passed February 6, 1798, a considerable portion of territory lying on
the easterly side of the Nashua river, in the south-west corner of Groton, was
annexed to Shirley. This tract continued to form a part of Shirley until the
incorporation of Ayer, on February 14, 1871, when its political condition was again
changed, and its government transferred to the new town. The act authorizing the
annexation is as follows,—and I give it entire in order to show the loose way
of describing boundary lines during the latter part of the last century:—

An Act to set off certain Lands from the town of Groton, and annex the
same to the town of Shirley.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in General Court
assembled, and by the authority of the same
, That a tract of Land at the south
western extremity of the town of Groton, bounded by a line beginning at a
large white oak stump, on the southeast side of Nashua River, being the
northwest corner of the town of Harvard; thence running southeasterly on
Harvard line, as the town bounds direct, till it comes to the stump of a
pine tree lately fallen down, an antient bound mark in said town line; thence
northerly to a heap of stones by the road leading to Harvard at SIMON DABY’S
southerly corner, thence northeasterly on said SIMON DABY’S line to a pine tree
marked, thence northerly to a heap of stones on a ledge of rocks; thence northerly
on said SIMON DABY’S line to a heap of stones on a large rock; thence northwesterly
still on said SIMON DABY’S line to a stake and stones in the roots of a pine tree,
fallen down, in a valley, said SIMON DABY’S northeast corner and SAMUEL CHASE’S
southerly corner, thence northerly on said SAMUEL CHASE’S line, to the road leading
to ABIL MORSE’S mill, at a heap of stones on the north easterly side of said road,
thence northeasterly on said SAMUEL CHASE’S line by said road to a heap of stones,
thence northeasterly on said CHASE’S line, to a stake and stones at the end of a
ditch at a brook; thence down said brook to Nashua River, thence up said
river, to the bounds first mentioned, together with the inhabitants thereof, be,
and they are hereby set off from the town of Groton and annexed to the town
of Shirley, there to do duty and receive privileges in the same manner as
other lands and inhabitants of the said town of Shirley.

SECT. 2. Provided nevertheless, and be it further enacted, That the said
tract of land and the inhabitants thereof shall be [79] liable to be taxed by the town of
Groton, their full proportion in a tax to the amount of the debts now due
from said town of Groton, in the same manner as if this act had not been
passed: Provided such tax be made and assessed within one year from the time
of passing this act; and shall also be liable to pay their proportion of all state
taxes that may be assessed on the town of Groton until a new valuation be
taken.

[This act passed February 6, 1798.]

All the changes of territorial jurisdiction thus far noted have been in one
direction,—from Groton to the surrounding towns; but now the tide turns, and
for a wonder she received, by legislative enactment, on February 3, 1803, a small
parcel of land just large enough for a potato-patch. The annexation came from
Pepperell, and the amount received was four acres and twenty rods in extent. The
following is a copy:—

An act to set off a certain parcel of land from the town of Pepperell, in
the county of Middlesex, and to annex the same to the town of Groton,
in the same county.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in General Court
assembled, and by the authority of the same
, That a certain tract of land,
bounded, beginning at the end of a wall by the road leading by Zachariah Fitch’s,
in said Groton; thence running easterly, by land of Jonas Fitch, to the
Nashua River, (so called;) thence up said river to said road, near the
bridge over the same river; thence, bounding by the same road, to the bounds first
mentioned, containing four acres and twenty rods, be, and hereby is set off from
said town of Pepperell and annexed to said town of Groton
forever.

[This act passed February 3, 1803.]

The Worcester and Nashua Railroad was opened through the township of Groton in the
month of December, 1848. It ran at that time a distance of eight miles through its
territory, keeping on the east side of the Nashua river, which for a considerable
part of the way was the dividing line between Groton and Pepperell. The railroad
station for the people of Pepperell was on the Groton side of the river, and in the
course of a few years a small village sprang up in the neighborhood. All the
interests and sympathies of this little settlement were with Pepperell; and under
these circumstances the Legislature, on May 18, 1857, passed an act of annexation, by
which it became in reality what it was in sentiment,—a part and parcel of that
town. The first section of the act is as follows:—

An act to set off a part of the Town of Groton, and annex the same to the Town
of Pepperell.

Be it enacted, &c., as follows:

All that part of the town of Groton, in the county of Middlesex, with the
inhabitants thereon, lying north of the following described line is hereby set off
from the town of Groton, and annexed to the town of Pepperell, to wit: Beginning at
the boundary between said town of Groton and the town of Dunstable, at a stone
monument in the wall on land of Elbridge Chapman and land of Joseph Sanderson, and
running south, eighty-six degrees west, about six hundred and sixty rods, to a
stone monument at the corner of land called the “Job Shattuck Farm,” and land of
James Hobart, near the Nashua River and Worcester and Nashua Railroad; thence in
same line to the centre of Nashua River and the boundary of said town of Pepperell:
provided, however, that for the purpose of electing a representative to the
general court, the said territory shall continue to be a part of the town of
Groton, until a new apportionment for representatives is made; and the inhabitants
resident therein shall be entitled to vote in the choice [81] of such representatives, and
shall be eligible to the office of representative in the town of Groton, in the
same manner as if this act had not been passed.

Groton Plantation

Map of Groton Plantation in 1884.

The latest legislation connected with the dismemberment of the original
grant—and perhaps the last for many years to come—is the Act of February
14, 1871, by which the town of Ayer was incorporated. This enactment took from Groton
a large section of territory lying near its southern borders, and from Shirley all
that part of the town on the easterly side of the Nashua River which was annexed to
it from Groton on February 6, 1798.

Thus has the old Groton Plantation, during a period of more than two centuries,
been hewed and hacked down to less than one-half of its original dimensions. It has
furnished, substantially, the entire territory of Pepperell, Shirley, and Ayer, and
has contributed more or less largely to form five other towns. An examination of the
accompanying map will show these changes more clearly than any verbal or written
description.


SAILS.

The ship’s white sails are all unfurl’d
  To the salt breath of the sea;
And never a ship in all the world
  Sails on with the wind more free.
For the white sails are white hopes of youth,
  The breath of the future blows;
But whither the vessel flies, in truth,
  There is no man that knows.

[82]

ELIZABETH. 1

A ROMANCE OF COLONIAL DAYS.
BY FRANCES C. SPARHAWK, Author of “A Lazy Man’s Work.”

CHAPTER I.

ON THE TIDE.

One August evening of the year 1743 a boat lay as if anchored in the beautiful
Piscataqua; her sail seemed swung only to show its whiteness in the bright moonlight.
Every cord upon it hung lifeless, serving only the purpose of pictured lines, one
silvered in the light, the dark shadow of the other traced in clear outlines on the
sail. The swash of the waves against the side of the boat was too slight to sway it;
the sheet dipped in the water and swung almost imperceptibly, while now and then a
few straws floated against it and caught there. The moon, high in the heavens, gave
pearly tints to the clouds that floated near it; the pines on the shore flung dark
masses against the oaks and maples, or stood as a Rembrandt background for the boughs
of the trees on which the moonlight fell, or for some ghostly procession of the white
birch trunks. The water, in the shadows as dark and smooth as a Claude Lorraine
glass, showed far off in the moonlight faint quivers of its surface here and there,
as if the breeze so longed for were coming to the idle boat. But it was too far off,
or too faint, for it spent itself before reaching the watchers there, although at the
symptoms one of them rose with great show of solemnity, and making a trumpet of his
hands, blew vigorously against the sail. But neither these movements nor the concerts
of whistling were successful. At last another of the company leaning over the side of
the boat busied himself with the sheet.

“I’ll tell you the reason this boat don’t go,” he said, gravely, “the rope was all
twisted. I’ve straightened it out, and taken off the straws.”

A burst of laughter greeted him as he turned around his face, still grave, but his
dark eyes, roving from one to another, their laughing expression hidden in the
shadow, for the moon was behind him.

“What a useful member of society you are, Stephen,” cried Katie Archdale. “I don’t
see how we could get on without you.”

“I don’t think we’re getting on with him very fast,” remarked a young
gentleman sitting opposite Katie, pointing significantly at a curve of the shore that
they had not drifted out of sight of in the last half hour.

“At least he has roused us,” returned the girl, “for I half believe I was sleepy
before.”

“I believe it wholly,” answered Stephen, taking his seat beside her again and
looking down into her face teazingly with a cousinly freedom. But it was not
altogether a cousinly regard from which Katie drew back after a moment, tossing her
head coquettishly, and with a heightened color, glancing past at her friend beyond
him, who sat dipping one hand in the water and looking dreamily at the shore. Stephen
Archdale and his cousin Katie lived within a few miles of each [83] other, and there had always been
constant intercourse between their families. When boy and girl, Stephen, four years
the elder, the two had played together, and they had grown up, as people said, like
brother and sister. But of late it was rumored that the conduct of young Archdale was
more loverlike than brotherly, and that, if Katie choose, the tie between them would
one day be closer than that of cousinhood. The stranger who sat opposite Archdale,
watching them both in silence, was of the same opinion. He was rather portly for his
age, which could not have been over thirty, and as he sat in the boat he looked a
taller man than he proved to be when on his feet. His dark-brown beard was full, his
eyes, like Archdale’s, were in shadow, for he had drawn down his hat well over his
brows, while Stephen and young Waldo sat bareheaded in the August air.

“I wonder”—began Katie.

“A sturgeon!” cried Mrs. Eveleigh, the last member of the party.

But the sound proved the soft dip of the paddle in the water as a canoe came
toward them going down the stream. Its Indian occupant when he shot by turned his
gaze stealthily upon the gay party.

“How many more of your red savages are there coming to spy upon us?” And the
speaker pushed back his hat a trifle, and looked up and down the river with an
anxiety that he could not quite conceal.

“You’ve not been out here long enough,” laughed Waldo. “There’s no danger; the red
savages are friendly with us just at this moment, and will remain so until we forget
our rifles some day, or they learn that we’re short of ammunition. Shoot ’em down
without mercy whenever they come spying about—it’s the only way. They’re
friendly so long as they are afraid, and not a moment longer. For instance, why
should that fellow stop? He saw three men whom he knew were armed, besides that young
man who’s pretending to sail the boat—why don’t you do it, Kit?” and Waldo
laughed good-humoredly at the lad whose office had become a sinecure. “When you get
used to them, Mr. Harwin,” he added, “they will not make you shiver.”

“Oh, they don’t do that now,” returned the other, indifferently, “but, the
ladies”—

“As to the ladies,” laughed Katie, “one of them is quite fond of the red-skins;
the other,” glancing at her friend, “has gone into a brown study; I don’t believe
she’s heard or seen anything for the last half hour. Elizabeth, when you fish up any
pearls there out of the water, share them with us, won’t you?”

“No, she’ll do no such thing,” interposed Mistress Eveleigh; “she’ll give them all
to you.” The tone was so serious that Elizabeth cried, indignantly,—

“Cousin Patience, how can you?”

“I suppose she likes to tease you,” retorted Katie, still laughing, “and so do I.
It’s so funny to see you wake out of a revery and find yourself.”

“And not find myself, you mean,” returned Elizabeth, joining in with a ripple of
merriment.

“Master Waldo knows all about the red-skins,” said Archdale to his opposite
neighbor; “he had the pleasure of shooting one last winter.”

[84]

“Did you?” exclaimed Mrs. Eveleigh, while Harwin looked at the young fellow with a
new interest. “How did it happen? Tell us about it.”

“Yes, tell us about it,” cried Katie, turning toward Waldo. But Elizabeth was
still looking at Archdale. Suppose the shooting had been necessary, how could he
speak of killing a human being as he would an animal, and then lean back and look at
Mr. Waldo with a smile on his face?

Kenelm Waldo, on his part, gazed at the speaker in astonishment.

“‘Pon honor,” he cried, “I never killed a red-skin in my life, or even had a shot
at one. Oh, I know now what he means; he is talking of a fox that I shot two miles
from his house, one that you ought to have secured yourself, Mr. Archdale. This was
the way I did it, the best way.”

When he had finished his account, Katie said:—

“I have a plan for amusing ourselves. Let us make every one tell a story, and
we’ll lay forfeits on the person that doesn’t give us an interesting one. Mistress
Eveleigh, please begin.”

“That is rather arbitrary, Mistress Katie, with no warning,” returned that lady,
smiling. “But since we’ve been talking about the Indians, I will tell you something
that my mother did once before she was married, while she was living down on the
Cape.”

“What a pity, Katie, you did not keep Mistress Eveleigh until the last,” cried
Archdale; “I know she will have the best story of us all.”

“You have too high estimation of my powers,” returned Mrs. Eveleigh, flattered;
“but if I do well,” she added, “it must be remembered that none of you have had
forty-five years in which to find one.”

The story, like a thousand others of that time, was of the presence of mind and
courage of one of the early settlers of America, and was listened to with the
attention it deserved. All, with one exception, were outspoken in admiration of its
heroine.

“You say nothing, Mistress Royal,” said Waldo; “but it may be you’ve heard it
before, since you and Mistress Eveleigh are in the same house.”

“Yes,” she answered, “I have heard it before.” She moved her head quickly as she
spoke, and as the moonlight struck her face, Archdale fancied that he saw a moist
brightness in her eyes. But certainly no tear fell, and when the next moment Katie
declared it Elizabeth’s turn for a story, she told some trifling anecdote that had in
it neither sentiment nor heroism. It was laughable though, and was about to receive
its deserts of praise when at Archdale’s first word Elizabeth cried,
eagerly:—

“Don’t, please. It was not worth telling; only I could remember nothing else.”

At this entreaty Harwin stared at her, and his lip curled disdainfully under the
hand that partially covered his face. “Have you so much wealth of fascination, young
lady,” his thoughts ran, “that you can afford to scatter your coins in this way? I
rather think not.” His eyes rested upon her for a moment as she sat looking at Katie
Archdale, and the scorn of his mouth deepened. “Admiration of one woman for another,”
he commented. “Pshaw! the girl lavishes everything; she will soon be bankrupt. She is
drinking in the intoxication [85] of Katie’s beauty just as—no, not like me, of
course. If ever there could be excuse for such a thing it would be here, for Katie is
bewitching, she is perfect; affectionate, too, but with no nonsense about her.
She reserves her admiration for—for whom does she reserve it? For the proud
young nabob beside her, or for the good-humored little coxcomb over here? It shall be
for neither; it shall be for me. I, too, can be fascinating when I take the trouble.
Fair lady, I have plans for you.”

“Master Harwin,” cried the girl’s clear voice, interrupting his thoughts, “why
don’t you begin? We’re waiting for you.”

“Pardon me,” he answered, “I was not aware of it. Well, since you are inexorable,
I’ll try. I will not attempt anything in this New World, which you all know so much
more about than I do, for then there’d be every chance of my being heavily fined. But
if you want a story of Old England, perhaps on that ground I can barely escape my
forfeit.”

“We shall be delighted,” said Miss Royal, courteously, for Katie, to whom she saw
that he was speaking, was at the moment claimed by Archdale; he was saying something
to her in a low voice, and she gave him willing attention.

Only a flash in the narrator’s eyes as he began showed that he noticed this.


CHAPTER II.

OPPORTUNITY.

“Once upon a time, then,” he said, “in Scotland, no matter in what part, there
dwelt two disconsolate people. They ought to have been very happy, for they were
lovers, but, as you may have noticed, lovers are happy only under the condition that
love runs smooth, and here it was extremely rough. The suitor was of ancient family
and poor, the lady was charming, and wilful—and an heiress? You are all waiting
to hear me say that—no, she was poor, too. And so you see that a doubling of
impecuniosity was quite impossible, for poverty rolls up fast in a geometrical
progression. But the lovers had no such scruples. It’s a romantic story enough if I
could tell it to you in detail.”

“And why not?” cried Katie, whose interest was making him wish that were
possible.

“I should have to go back for generations, and tell you of family feuds as old as
the families themselves, a Montague and Capulet state of affairs, although each
family had so much respect for the golden amenities of life that its possession by
the other would have softened the asperity of feeling. But each was poor,—poor,
I mean, for people in that station.

“The lady, as I said, was a beauty; the gentleman had extra will enough when it
was roused to make up for the absence of beauty, although, indeed, the lady was not
lacking in that quality either, and so, opposition made them only more determined to
have their own way. It was impossible to run away,—she was too well guarded;
defiance was the only thing, and I must confess that from what I knew of them both, I
think they enjoyed it. The Capulets, as I will call them, were dissenters, the
Montagues belonged to the Established Church. Now, the [86] Capulets were very zealous, and at
this time a famous itinerant preacher came into their neighborhood. They, being the
greatest people in the place, invited him to stay at their house during his visit. He
often preached in the open air. One day, at the end of one of those eloquent
discourses, a young man in countryman’s dress came up and asked him to marry himself
and a young woman whom he had been waiting upon a long time, but who had refused to
be married unless this very preacher could perform the ceremony. ‘She said it would
be a blessed wedlock of your joining,’ pursued the young fellow. The preacher,
although he was a great man, was only human,—it is well, I suppose, that we
never outgrow our humanity,—and felt flattered by the young girl’s belief in
his sanctity. He proposed the next day for the ceremony, and was arranging to marry
the rustic couple on the lawn before the house of his host when the young man
interrupted him by stating that it must be gone through with immediately, for his
lady-love was so shy that it was with difficulty she had been persuaded to come
to-night, and she would never consent if he gave her all that time to think the
matter over in, nor would she be willing to come up on the lawn with the great
people. She was at hand with one of her friends; everything was prepared; would he
marry them then? At that moment? The bewildered minister looked up the road before
him, where the carriage of the Capulets was disappearing at the top of the hill; he
had been told that the daughter would remain with him, and that the carriage would
return as soon as Mamma Capulet had made inquiries about a cottager who was ill; for
his congregation had been crowding about him with questions and tearful confessions
of sins, and the good Capulets, who had the opportunity to make their confessions in
private, were in haste to be gone. Where was his fair companion? He looked about him;
he had lost sight of her in the throng. But in a few moments she came forward,
accompanying the bride, who the groom explained was a protégée of hers.
Miss Capulet had drawn down her veil, and in answer to this statement nodded to the
reverend gentleman and murmured an assent. The bride’s face, too, was hidden by her
bonnet and by her shyness, which prevented her from once looking up. The name of the
groom lingered with surprise on the minister’s lips, for it was not a clodhopper’s
name, I assure you; but he had heard nothing of the love affair. When he came to the
bride’s name, however, he did pause, for it was that of the Capulet. ‘How is this?’
he asked. ‘How has she the same name as you, my child?’ Before the veiled lady could
answer, the groom informed him that the bride’s family, being old retainers of the
other, had the same last name, as it was in Scottish clans, and that the bride
herself, born on the same day as the young lady at the great house, had received also
the same Christian name, which explained her being under Miss Capulet’s protection.
The good man was conscious that, though his piety was eminent, his knowledge of all
genealogy but Bible was deficient, and when both women softly assented to this
statement, [87] his air
of perplexity gave place to the manner of a man who understands the business of the
hour. He was in a hurry, and in an incredibly short time the two were one. ‘Is it all
over?’ asked the groom. ‘Are we securely married?’ ‘You are joined in the holy bonds
of matrimony until death do you part,’ returned the clergyman, solemnly, beginning to
add his blessing. But this died half-uttered on his lips, for the bride slowly raised
her head, threw back her bonnet, and the haughty face and laughing eyes of the
Capulet were before him. ‘Bear witness,’ she said, her shyness completely gone, ‘that
I’m this gentleman’s wife.’ ‘You are, indeed,’ he stammered. ‘But
how—why—who is this?’ and he reached out a trembling hand toward the
veiled lady. ‘My maid,’ returned the bride; ‘she came here like one of the cottagers,
and we exchanged gowns while you were talking to the people.’ ‘I hope, I sincerely
hope, it’s all right,’ returned the poor man; ‘but if I had known, I would have
spoken to your honored parent, first.’ ‘Yes, I’m sure of that,’ she laughed, ‘and
then we should not have been so happy.’ At the moment a post-chaise drove up, into
which the bridal pair and the servant made haste to get. ‘Pardon me that I cannot
accompany you home,’ laughed the lady, leaning out to give the minister her hand in
farewell. ‘You cannot know how grateful to you we are. I shall never be able to
reward you; I can only give you my thanks and prayers—and be sure to tell them
at home how firmly you have married us.’ The chaise drove off, and the good man was
left alone. He felt inclined to think that he had been dreaming, until he looked down
and saw in his hand a purse of gold pieces that the groom had slipped into it,
whispering, ‘If you refuse for yourself, be my almoner and give it to the poor.’
Before the preacher had recovered his wits the carriage of the Capulets reappeared.
The lovers, however, did not re-appear for two years, and by that time Montague had
unexpectedly fallen heir to a fortune and a title, and was received with open arms by
the new relatives. In our days it’s always the one who was not the prodigal who has
the fatted calf killed for him.”


“I’m afraid the poor minister was not very welcome when he had told his story,”
said Elizabeth.

“Clever enough, on my word,” cried Archdale.

“Not quite to your liking, I fancy, though,” answered Harwin.

“Do you think he would have had the wedding indoors, in the teeth of everybody?”
laughed Katie.

Harwin assented, adding that he felt convinced that Master Archdale would have
insisted upon all the accompaniments of a grand wedding at any cost.

“Yes, I shall have that when my time comes,” returned Stephen, looking straight
before him a trifle haughtily. But Harwin noticed that directly his eyes fell in
passing back to their watching of the shore, and that one sweeping glance was given
to Katie.

“But can people be married in such an instant?” asked Waldo. “I always thought it
was a work of time—rather a formidable piece of business.”

[88]

“Oh! when you come to two or three ministers of the Church of England, and the
benedictions, and all that, so it is,” said Harwin; “but the real business part is an
affair of—I was going to say less than a minute.” He sat silent after this,
with his head bent, then, lifting it suddenly, before anybody had spoken, he fixed
his glance, with a musing expression, upon Waldo. “I was wondering if I could
remember the formula,” he said; “I think I can. Mistress Royal, allow Master Archdale
to take your hand a moment, if you please.”

Elizabeth made no responsive movement, and Archdale, for an instant, failed to
turn toward her. He had been looking at Katie while Harwin was speaking; but Katie
drew back, hastily.

“Oh, do, Elizabeth!” she cried. “I want to see what it is like; do try with
Stephen, and let us hear.” As she spoke, Archdale turned toward Elizabeth,
courteously.

“Come, Mistress Royal,” he said, as Harwin was explaining that he had asked her
because she happened to be on the proper side for a bride, “let us make an effective
tableau for the amusement of these mariners, who, since they are becalmed themselves,
persist in wanting something going on.”

Elizabeth had heard the entreaty in Katie’s light words. She knew that if she
herself had cared for Mr. Archdale she could never have jested at marrying him. It
made her all the more sure that Katie did care, because, otherwise, the girl would
have found it great fun to rouse a little jealousy in the two admirers opposite,
watching every movement. She yielded her hand to the light clasp that held it, and
listened with less interest than the others to Mr. Harwin’s distinct and rapid words
until he came to the sentence, “I pronounce you man and wife.” Then she shivered, and
he had scarcely finished the adjuration that follows—”What God hath joined
together let not man put asunder,” when she snatched her hand away.

“It is too solemn,” she cried, “it is too much; we ought not to have jested
so.”

Harwin laughed.

“Pardon me if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said; “but you will forget it in
five minutes, and even for that time you must blame Master Waldo’s curiosity.”

“And mine,” added Katie, at which young Waldo gave her a grateful glance. Then he
joined with her in breaking the hush that had fallen on the others. “Stephen,” she
said, “now for your story. Do you think you are coming off scot-free?”

“I thought we had performed our parts,” he said, turning to Elizabeth with a
smile.

“Mistress Royal has already told her story,” cried Waldo, “There’s no escape for
you.”

“Escape would be difficult now, I confess.”

“So begin.”

He began obediently, but fortune was kinder than he had expected, for he had not
fairly started when Kit cried out,—

“A breeze! Here it comes. Heads to larboard!” And down went Archdale’s and those
of the two ladies with him as the sail was shifted and the boat began to skim the
water before the breeze which freshened every minute. Soon they had gained the cove
where they were to land, and Archdale’s story was never finished.

[89]

THE PROTECTION OF CHILDREN.

BY ERNEST NUSSE.

The census of 1880 fixed the juvenile population of the United States at
20,000,000, of whom 10,158,954 were boys and 9,884,705 were girls. “From a political
point of view,” says the eminent philanthropist, Mr. Elbridge T. Gerry, “the future
of the nation depends on the physical and intellectual education of its children,
whose numbers increase every year, and who will soon constitute the sovereign people.
From the moral and social point of view, the welfare of society imperatively demands
that the atmosphere in which they live, and the treatment that they receive from
those intrusted with their care or custody, shall be such as to establish in them
habits of industry, of sobriety, of honesty, and good conduct. For injurious
treatment of a child, inasmuch as it tends to result in the distortion of its
physical and moral nature, constitutes an offence whose importance seriously effects
the public order.” But what is to be understood by cruel treatment? It consists in
every act of omission or of commission which causes or procures physical injury or
death. It is hardly necessary to observe that this definition must be limited to its
practical meaning, rather than interpreted in its broader, philosophical sense. We
must leave out of the question the results of improper or imperfect educational
training and discipline. It is doubtless a cause of harm to a delicate and nervous
child to force the development of its intelligence; a harsh word hastily uttered by
parents may leave an ineffaceable impression upon a sensitive organization; severity
degenerates into injustice when it confounds a peevish act, the result of physical
disorder, with an act of deliberate disobedience. The weakness which resigns its
authority In order to spare itself the care of a child’s education engenders for life
the spirit of insubordination. The humiliating and unjust reproach, the stinging
sarcasm, wound the child in its tenderest feelings;—but these are not the forms
of cruelty and wrong which fall within reach of the law. It is unable to interpose
between the parents and the child, except in case of an actual and serious offence,
and for the rest it must rely upon the affection planted by nature in the hearts of
parents. These distinctions are more felt than expressed, and opinion will never
deceive itself in regard to the conduct of unnatural parents.

But if these propositions are absolutely incontestable, how do they leave room for
the function of a society? If children are beaten, abandoned, given over to odious
practices, will not the authorities, on the complaint of those interested, or
compelled by public opinion, be able adequately to fulfil the task? This reasoning,
altogether French, would not properly take into account the American temperament, the
genius of the Anglo-Saxon race, of its institutions, and of its usages. In France,
since the fourteenth century, misdemeanors have been prosecuted the more generally by
the public minister, acting under whose orders are numerous officers of judiciary [90] police, who entertain
the complaints of the public and send them, with the result of their examination, to
our courts. The magistrates charged with the case complete the investigations, if
they take place. The elements of the evidence are therefore combined when the
prosecution is instituted. In the United States these intermediate officials exist
but imperfectly between the injured party and the magistrate who renders judgment.
From lack of sufficient evidence, the rights of this injured party run the risk of
being compromised through his inexperience. Moreover, the complaint of the child,
often directed against its parents or its legal guardians, involves the examination
of a delicate situation, which must be conducted with much discernment. Without
comparing the two systems, American and French, which correspond each to the
particular genius of the two nations, it will be seen that the American system leaves
much more to private initiative, and that it would become ineffectual when the victim
of the offence, being a child, has neither the energy nor the knowledge necessary to
demonstrate that its complaint is well founded, without the aid of some one in power.
This is the aid which is given by the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty
to Children; and we can now understand how the exigency of the case, so powerfully
felt by the practical intelligence of the Americans, has called into existence this
potent organization, which we may call the guardian of the rights of childhood, for
the repression of the offences from which it is liable to suffer. The following
anecdote shows how the necessity for this institution arose, in a manner at once
thrilling and dramatic:—

Ten years ago in New York, on the top floor of a tenement-house, in a miserable
room without furniture, a dying woman lay on a pallet, in the last stage of
consumption. A charitable lady who visited her asked what she could do for her. The
dying woman replied: “My hours are numbered, but how can I die in peace when night
and day I hear the beating by her mother-in-law of the unhappy little girl who
lives in the room next to mine.” And, in fact, for a month her heart had been torn
by the cries of this child, Mary Ellen, kept in confinement by this brute. Much
moved by this recital, the visitor felt impelled to demand the interference of the
police. They told her this was impracticable unless she was able to furnish proof
of her allegation. She knew the facts only upon hearsay, and only in case a
misdemeanor were actually proved would it be possible for the police to interfere
as she desired. The charitable feelings of the lady would not permit her to stop
here. She made inquiries among benevolent societies. But here again she experienced
a check. The societies could not receive the child except upon legal commitment by
an order of court. And charitable persons with the most benevolent tendencies,
being consulted on this difficulty, confessed themselves at a loss to suggest a
remedy in the case, and declared that it was dangerous to interfere between parents
and children; that in so doing one is liable to become involved in inextricable
difficulties, since the heads of the family are the best guardians of their
children. However, the sorrowful appeal of the dying woman echoed continually in
the ears of her whose charitable aid had been implored. She resolved upon a supreme
effort to rescue this child. She sought Mr. Henry Bergh, a man who has never been
deaf to a cry of despair, and who has devoted his life to the protection of
animals. Mr. Bergh considered the life [91] of a child to be quite as valuable as that of a beast,
and gave it as his opinion that the tribunals should be appealed to. A warrant was
immediately procured and the child was produced in court, its face covered with
horrible wounds. A pair of scissors with which these wounds had been inflicted were
produced. The facts in the case caused a profound sensation in the court and
throughout the city. The mother-in-law was arrested, found guilty, and the little
girl was taken from her hands to receive an education which has rendered her an
elegant and accomplished young woman.

Humble beginnings, which it will be well for us to bear in remembrance for the
confusion of our pride! It is from the protection of animals that has sprung, in New
York, that of the child. And, when we contemplate the great number of societies in
the United States,—the Humane Society of Saratoga, of Bangor, of Keene, of
Taunton, of Connecticut, the Western Pennsylvania, the Tennessee Society, those of
Nashville, of Cleveland, of Cincinnati, of Indianapolis, of Chicago, of Peoria, of
Sangamon, of Quincy, of Minnesota, of Minneapolis, extending, simultaneously, their
help to children and to the brutes, we shall be no longer astonished either at the
combination of effort explained by this historic origin, or especially at a
philosophy which rightly esteems that cruelty commences with the animal, only to end
fatally with the human being. The proceeding instituted at the instance of Mr. Henry
Bergh was a most valuable precedent. The establishment of a method of rescue,
encouraged complaints, which, till then, had been silent, of the abandonment, misery,
or sufferings of children. Mr. Bergh’s society found itself besieged, and, after
deliberation with his counsel, it was determined to establish another in New York,
whose special mission should be the protection of children. An old gentleman of high
respectability, belonging to the sect of the Quakers, Mr. John D. Wright, was elected
to the presidency, which office he held until his death, which occurred on the 21st
of August, 1880. His successor is Mr. Elbridge T. Gerry.

However, inasmuch as the authority with which the society sought to be invested
had reference to public justice, and involved the power to appear for the defence of
the interests of others, and to require the coöperation of public officials, a
law was indispensable, in order to confer these powers. Such a law was passed August
21, 1875, whose provisions covered not only the case of the New York society, but
determined the functions of all institutions of a similar nature. On condition of
complying with the prescribed formalities for acquiring a corporate existence, the
law granted to these institutions the right to make complaints, in any jurisdiction,
of violations of the statutes regarding children; it set forth, formally, the duty of
magistrates or officers of police, to cooperate with the societies acting in the
limits of their several jurisdictions. The boundaries of the ground of protection
were thus defined, but there was still lacking the requisite legislative authority.
Experience showed that, besides the misdemeanors of common law—attempts upon
the morals, murder, assault and battery, etc.—a multitude of offences against
children remained unpunished. The society, therefore, solicited and obtained from [92] the Legislature,
powers which permitted it to repress acts of cruelty towards children that the law
failed to reach. The first of these measures was the law of 1876, forbidding the
employment of minors under sixteen years as dancers, beggars, street peddlers, as
gymnasts or contortionists, or in indecent occupations prejudicial to their health or
perilous to their life. Then came the law of June 6, 1877, forbidding the admission
of minors under fourteen years into public places, liquor saloons, balls, concerts,
theatres, unless accompanied by a parent or legal guardian. With these laws, which it
caused to be interpreted in the courts in certain test cases, the society arrived at
the most satisfactory results. There were no longer seen in New York those juvenile
beggars whose miserable appearance is made an instrument of gain by their worthless
masters; those vagrants who disguise their vagabondage under the pretext of imaginary
professions, collecting cigar stumps and rag picking; those little girls who sell
flowers at the doors of houses of bad repute, often concealing under this ostensible
occupation infamous transactions with panders who keep them in their pay. A
determined warfare was declared against the Italian padroni, who thrive upon the toil
of the little unfortunates to whom they pretend to teach music, and whom they utilize
as peddlers and chimney-sweepers. The conviction of the too notorious Ancarola was
the signal for the suppression of these shameless villains; the purchases of children
ceased, and the cause of humanity triumphed, thanks to the combined efforts of the
society and of the Italian consul, after long and earnest conferences. It is not only
the Italians, but the children of all nationalities, who have profited from this
powerful patronage: Hungarian, German, Chinese, Irish, French. One of our
compatriots, a girl of fourteen years, came one day to implore its aid. Her father
was a drunkard, who had reached the lowest round in the ladder of degradation; her
mother had no means of subsistence except concubinage, nor her two sisters except
prostitution. She begged that they would save her from this life of shame. The
society received her, procured her a position, a good education. Learning that she
was heiress to a considerable property left by a grandfather, the society took active
steps in France to secure to her her rights. Unfortunately, the agent who had
possession of the estate became insolvent after having squandered the property, and
it was impossible to recover it. The society continued to care for the young girl up
to the day of her marriage to a young man enjoying a regular salary of $1,200, and
worthy of her in all respects.

The strict watch kept upon the liquor saloons contributed equally to improve the
condition of children. Many were in the habit of being sent by confirmed drunkards to
buy the “liquid poison!” They thus promoted this vice whose hardened subjects would
prolong It even beyond the grave by asking that “a bottle of whiskey may be put in
their coffin.” The obedience of the children was rewarded by invitations to drink,
which initiated them in debauchery. It was among women abandoned to drink that lived
Eliza Clark, a child of eleven years, paying for the drinks [93] with the gains which she realized
from dancing or singing; in return, the women gave her brandy to drink and tobacco to
smoke, so that when she was found she resembled “a beast more than a human creature.”
They also suppressed the playing of pool for drinks by minors, instituted by saloon
keepers to induce them to drink liquor, which was the reward of those whom fortune
favored in the game.

The police of the theatres performed their duty conscientiously, and the statutes
were obeyed. The necessity of being accompanied by an adult was felt to be a strange
restraint by these gamins eager for the theatre, whose attractions led them to
abandon school, work, and family, and to procure the money for their admission by
stealing it from their parents, or at a pinch from strangers; and where they would
mingle, between the acts, with pick-pockets and low characters who encouraged them in
the ways of vice. And for a stronger reason, the child was more carefully protected
against the perils of the stage than against those of the auditory. Juvenile
performances were forbidden, and the youthful performers were excluded successively
from the Columbia Opera House or Theatre des Folies, from the Italian Opera, from the
Gem Theatre, from Parker’s American Theatre, and from the Juvenile Opera. Permissions
for individual performances were peremptorily refused even to parents who were
actors. Here the work of the society encountered serious obstacles, and it is
necessary to quote from Mr. Elbridge T. Gerry in order to appreciate the motives by
which the society was actuated in combating with vigorous purpose the opposition
which it met with: “The Press, which is influenced to a considerable extent by the
representations of theatrical managers, often criticises severely any attempt to
deprive the public of what it is pleased to call its legitimate amusements, by the
suppression of such entertainments. And many pronounced patrons of the dramatic art
even maintain that such exhibitions are indispensable to the proper development of a
dramatic education, and that when the necessities of the parents require it, charity
should encourage the children to procure this means of obtaining a livelihood. But
let us examine the other side of the question. When the curtain rises in the theatre,
a draught of warm air rushes from the audience on to the stage, and often paralyzes
for some moments the vocal chords of the actors. When the curtain falls, the cold air
comes down from the flies, and the children, who have become over heated by their
physical exertions, shiver to the marrow before they are able to accustom themselves
to this sudden change of temperature. Every night these things are renewed. During
the day the children sleep as best they can. Their nervous system is rapidly
undermined; their digestion becomes impaired. It is rare that one can point to
instances of children arriving early at positions of eminence in the dramatic art. It
is true that there are a few who shine as stars in the theatrical profession, and who
entered upon their dramatic career in early childhood; but these are rare
exceptions.”

It is not only on the stage that the morals of the children have been protected;
[94] the keepers of low
resorts have been prosecuted by the society.

It has shut up the den of the too celebrated Owney Geoghegan, who long defied the
law and the police, encouraging the efforts of prostitutes to debauch young girls.
Women of notorious reputation, who enticed away the children of respectable mechanics
to sell them for money, have been severely punished. In short, not content with
bringing to justice these outrageous offenders with a firmness which has made it the
terror of these oppressors of childhood, the society has been the instrument of
checking acts even of carelessness or imprudence. It no longer permits the drunkard
to keep his children in a cellar where the rats bite their feet; or the mercenary
father to allow his son to engage in a wager, dangerous to his health, to make a
hundred miles in twenty-four hours; or a man to ride a bicycle bearing on his
shoulders his five-year-old daughter.

So great a work demanded accommodations of corresponding magnitude. In 1881, and
at the price of $43,000, the society purchased a large building situated at the
corner of 23rd street and 4th avenue, one of the most important thoroughfares of New
York. Not far from the offices, in the main part of the building, is found a
collection of all the instruments of cruelty seized in the legal
proceedings,—rods of iron, whips, firebars (barres de poeles), pokers,
cudgels (gourdins), and other instruments. These furnish convincing proofs of
the sufferings of the children,—for example those of Maggie Scully, when she
said: “I do all the work at my aunt’s house, and if you do not believe that I have
been beaten, look at me, for my aunt has beaten me this morning with a poker.”
Adjoining the offices are the rooms for the officers and the archives of the
institution, containing the papers in each case setting forth the facts and the
evidence. On the upper floor is a dormitory, where the children are kept until final
disposition is made of them, that is to say, generally during one night. In fact, the
work is going on without interruption at all hours of the day and night. If at night
a call by telephone is received from the police-station, an officer of the society
responds immediately to this appeal.

As is most frequently the case, he finds a drunken woman in the street, with three
or four ragged children gathered about her, covered with vermin, without fire or
lodging, having been abandoned by the father. The mother is detained at the station,
but the children are taken to the society, where they are washed, fed, and for the
first time in their lives, perhaps, put to sleep in a bed. On the following day, the
children are taken to court. If the parents or guardians are worthy, they are
returned to them; if not, the justice commits them to some charitable institution.
Some of these have a religious character, and others a secular one; the American
judge, in rendering his decision, is influenced by interests of family, of
nationality, of race, or of religion of the child, as well as by the requirements of
the law. Sick children and nursing infants are sent to the hospital on Randall’s
Island, the Ladies’ Deborah Nursery, and the Child’s Hospital. Each of the charitable
institutions receives a per capita allowance for children during the time that they
remain in their care.

[95]

The society does not abandon them, and if a complaint arises of improper
treatment, it causes legal proceedings to be instituted against those who are
responsible therefor.

A recent case of this kind was that of the “Old Gentlemen’s Home.”

It will be readily seen that the cases which come before the society must be very
numerous: during the nine years of its existence it has investigated 13,077
complaints, involving 52,308 children, prosecuted 4,035 cases, convicted 3,637
offenders, rescued and placed in homes or institutions 7,555 children. In the last
three years it has temporarily sheltered and clothed 1,092 children and furnished
them with 9,309 meals. These figures acquire a singular force when one reads in the
annual reports the curious history of these cases setting forth the facts in detail.
In 1882 the magistrates of the city issued 1,267 warrants. On the information
furnished, 834 children were held in custody, 1,040 released. The city of New York is
compelled to pay for the support of children thus committed to custody. A saving of
$108,160 has therefore been realized to the benefit of the tax-payers of New York. In
1883 they received 2,966 complaints; there were 1,176 prosecutions and 1,128
convictions; 2,008 children were placed in institutions of charity. Of 2,341 children
arrested 1,078 were held, 1,263 released.

The resources of the society are derived exclusively from the liberality of the
public. It receives no aid either from the State or city. On the contrary, it pay
taxes even on the water used in the care of the children in its charge. The account
of receipts and expenditures amounts to about $17,000. Of the $43,000 which its
building cost, $25,000 remain on mortgage. The field in which the society employs its
activity is already large, and is rapidly extending. It endeavors to obtain from the
legislature laws which will defeat the aims of those too numerous enterprises which,
under color of charity, utilize young children, for example, the baby farms and those
establishments (called hospitaliers) which have neither the means nor the
facilities necessary to their proper conduct. It requires that children shall not be
employed in manual labor before the age of fourteen years, and only after their
physical capability has been certified to by a physician. It insists on the
prohibition of all dangerous occupations. The former articles in this Bulletin on the
abuses which exist in the industrial employment of children in New York show how
justifiable is this action of the society. “Thousands of children,” says Mr. Gerry,
“die of diseases contracted in these injurious employments; in this respect our
nation is far behind Europe in its means of affording protection to children. In
France, severe laws have been in operation since 1841. England has promptly followed
this example, and like the English legislation, that of France expressly forbids the
employment of children in the manufacture of dangerous substances, of a nature
poisonous or explosive. You have only to visit our hospitals to see the little
creatures with hand or fingers mutilated, from being employed at too early an age in
the operation of machinery. Our negligence makes manifest the wisdom of the French
law, whose lesson [96]
is so necessary with us.” This needed progress will without doubt be made, and the
society will continue with increased zeal its charitable work. It gives to the
legislator the benefit of a practical experience in the work, to the child its
powerful advocacy in the courts, to justice the impartiality of prudent
investigations, to public opinion the assurance of the proper conduct of charitable
institutions and an impulse in the direction of improvement. It is thus that in this
land of enterprise, whose customs are adverse to permitting affairs even of the
gravest importance, like the prosecution of crimes or the direction of works of
benevolence, to be concentrated in the hands of public officials, the consequences of
self-government have been happily corrected in points where they would
otherwise become extreme, in regard to children. The New York society is therefore
well described by its worthy president, Mr. Elbridge T. Gerry, as “the Hand of
Protection.” And this hand is too charitable for us to forbear to give it a cordial
pressure across the vast expanse of the Atlantic.


THE MIDDLESEX CANAL.

BY LORIN L. DAME, A.M.

The curious traveller may still trace with little difficulty the line of the old
Middlesex canal, with here and there a break, from the basin at Charlestown to its
junction with the Merrimac at Middlesex village. Like an accusing ghost, it never
strays far from the Boston & Lowell Railroad, to which it owes its untimely
end.

At Medford, the Woburn sewer runs along one portion of its bed, the Spot pond
water-pipes another. The tow-path, at one point, marks the course of the defunct
Mystic Valley Railroad; at others, it has been metamorphosed into sections of the
highway; at others, it survives as a cow-path or woodland lane; at Wilmington, the
stone sides of a lock have become the lateral walls of a dwelling-house cellar.

Judging the canal by the pecuniary recompense it brought its projectors, it must
be admitted a dismal failure; yet its inception was none the less a comprehensive,
far-reaching scheme, which seemed to assure a future of ample profits and great
public usefulness. Inconsiderable as this work may appear compared with the modern
achievements of engineering, it was, for the times, a gigantic undertaking, beset
with difficulties scarcely conceivable to-day. Boston was a small town of about
twenty thousand inhabitants; Medford, Woburn, and Chelmsford were insignificant
villages; and Lowell was as yet unborn, while the valley of the Merrimac, northward
into New Hampshire, supported a sparse agricultural population. But the outlook was
encouraging. It was a period of rapid growth and marked improvements. The subject of
closer communication with the interior early became a vital question. Turnpikes, [97] controlled by
corporations, were the principal avenues over which country produce, lumber,
firewood, and building-stone found their way to the little metropolis. The cost of
entertainment at the various country inns, the frequent tolls, and the inevitable
wear and tear of teaming, enhanced very materially the price of all these articles.
The Middlesex canal was the first step towards the solution of the problem of cheap
transportation. The plan originated with the Hon. James Sullivan, who was for six
years a judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, attorney-general from 1790 to
1807, and governor in 1807 and 1808, dying while holding the latter office.

A brief glance at the map of the New England States will bring out in bold relief
the full significance of Sullivan’s scheme. It will be seen that the Merrimac river,
after pursuing a southerly course as far as Middlesex village, turns abruptly to the
north-east. A canal from Charlestown mill-pond to this bend of the river, a distance
of 27-1/4 miles, would open a continuous water-route of eighty miles to Concord, N.H.
From this point, taking advantage of Lake Sunapee, a canal could easily be run in a
north-westerly direction to the Connecticut at Windsor, Vt.; and thence, making use
of intermediate streams, communication could be opened with the St. Lawrence. The
speculative mind of Sullivan dwelt upon the pregnant results that must follow the
connection of Boston with New Hampshire and possibly Vermont and Canada. He consulted
his friend, Col. Baldwin, sheriff of Middlesex, who had a natural taste for
engineering, and they came to the conclusion that the plan was feasible. Should the
undertaking succeed between Concord and Boston, the gradual increase in population
and traffic would in time warrant the completion of the programme. Even should
communication never be established beyond Concord, the commercial advantages of
opening to the market the undeveloped resources of upper New Hampshire would be a
sufficient justification. Accordingly, James Sullivan, Loammi Baldwin, Jonathan
Porter, Samuel Swan, and five members of the Hall family at Medford, petitioned the
General Court for an act of incorporation. A charter was granted, bearing date of
June 22, 1793, “incorporating James Sullivan, Esq., and others, by the name of the
Proprietors of the Middlesex Canal,” and on the same day was signed by His Excellency
John Hancock, Governor of the Commonwealth. By this charter the proprietors were
authorized to lay such assessments from time to time as might be required for the
construction of the canal.

At their first meeting the proprietors intrusted the management of the corporation
to a board of thirteen members, who were to choose a president and vice-presidents
from their own number, the entire board subject to annual election. Boston
capitalists subscribed freely, and Russell, Gore, Barrell, Craigie, and Brooks appear
among the earliest directors. This board organized on the 11th of October by the
choice of James Sullivan as president, and Col. Baldwin and John Brooks (afterwards
Gov. Brooks) as vice-presidents. The first step was to make the necessary [98] surveys between the
Charlestown basin and the Merrimac at Chelmsford; but the science of engineering was
in its infancy, and it was difficult to find a competent person to undertake the
task. At length Samuel Thompson, of Woburn, was engaged to make a preliminary survey;
but the directors, not wholly satisfied with his report, afterwards secured the
services of Samuel Weston, an eminent English engineer, then employed in Pennsylvania
on the Potomac canals. His report, made Aug. 2, 1794, was favorable; and it is
interesting to compare his figures with those of Mr. Thompson. As calculated by
Thompson, the ascent from Medford bridge to the Concord river, at Billerica, was
found to be 68-1/2 ft.; the actual difference in level, as found by Weston, was 104
ft. By Thompson’s survey there was a further ascent of 16-1/2 ft. to the Merrimac;
when, in fact, the water at Billerica bridge is almost 25 ft. above the Merrimac at
Chelmsford.

Col. Baldwin, who superintended the construction of the canal, removed the first
turf, Sept. 10, 1794. The progress was slow and attended with many embarrassments.
The purchase of land from more than one hundred proprietors demanded skilful
diplomacy. Most of the lands used for the canal were acquired by voluntary sale, and
conveyed in fee-simple to the corporation. Sixteen lots were taken under authority of
the Court of Sessions; while for thirteen neither deed nor record could be found when
the corporation came to an end. Some of the land was never paid for, as the owner
refused to accept the sum awarded. The compensation ranged from about $150 an acre in
Medford to $25 in Billerica. The numerous conveyances are all in Sullivan’s
handwriting.

Labor was not easily procured, probably from the scarcity of laborers, as the
wages paid, $10 a month and board, were presumably as much as could be earned in
manual labor elsewhere. “An order was sent to England for a levelling instrument made
by S. & W. Jones, of London, and this was the only instrument used for
engineering purposes after the first survey by Weston.” Two routes were considered;
the rejected route was forty years later selected for the Lowell Railroad. The canal,
30 ft. wide, 4 ft. deep, with 20 locks, 7 aqueducts, and crossed by 50 bridges, was,
in 1802, sufficiently completed for the admission of water, and the following year
was opened to public navigation from the Merrimac to the Charles. Its cost, about
$500,000, of which one-third was for land damages, was but little more than the
estimate. Commencing at Charlestown mill-pond, it passed through Medford, crossing
the Mystic by a wooden aqueduct of 100 ft., to Horn pond in Woburn. Traversing Woburn
and Wilmington it crossed the Shawshine by an aqueduct of 137 ft., and struck the
Concord, from which it receives its water, at Billerica Mills. Entering the Concord
by a stone guard-lock, it crossed, with a floating tow-path, and passed out on the
northern side through another stone guard-lock; thence it descended 27 ft., in a
course of 5-1/4 miles, through Chelmsford to the Merrimac, making its entire length
27-1/4 m.

The proprietors made Charlestown bridge the eastern terminus for their boats, but
ultimately communication [99] was opened with the markets and wharves upon the harbor,
through Mill Creek, over a section of which Blackstone street now extends.

As the enterprise had the confidence of the business community, money for
prosecuting the work had been procured with comparative ease. The stock was divided
into 800 shares, and among the original stockholders appear the names of Ebenezer and
Dudley Hall, Oliver Wendall, John Adams of Quincy, Peter C. Brooks of Medford, and
Andrew Craigie of Cambridge. The stock had steadily advanced from $25 a share in the
autumn of 1794 to $473 in 1803, the year the canal was opened, touching $500 in 1804.
Then a decline set in, a few dollars at a time, till 1816, when its market value was
$300 with few takers, although the canal was in successful operation, and, in 1814,
the obstructions in the Merrimac had been surmounted, so that canal boats, locking
into the river at Chelmsford, had been poled up stream as far as Concord.

Firewood and lumber always formed a very considerable item in the business of the
canal. The navy-yard at Charlestown and the shipyards on the Mystic form any years
relied upon the canal for the greater part of the timber used in shipbuilding; and
work was sometimes seriously retarded by low water in the Merrimac, which interfered
with transportation. The supply of oak and pine about Lake Winnipiseogee, and along
the Merrimac and its tributaries, was thought to be practically inexhaustible. In the
opinion of Daniel Webster, the value of this timber had been increased $5,000,000 by
the canal. Granite from Tyngsborough, and agricultural products from a great extent
of fertile country, found their way along this channel to Boston; while the return
boats supplied taverns and country stores with their annual stock of goods. The
receipts from tolls, rents, etc. were steadily increasing, amounting,

Yet, valuable, useful, and productive as the canal had proved itself, it had lost
the confidence of the public, and, with a few exceptions, of the proprietors
themselves. The reason for this state of sentiment can easily be shown. The general
depression of business on account of the embargo and the war of 1812 had its effect
upon the canal. In the deaths of Gov. Sullivan and Col. Baldwin, in the same year,
1808, the enterprise was deprived of the wise and energetic counsellors to whom it
owed its existence.

The aqueducts and most of the locks, being built of wood, required large sums for
annual repairs; the expenses arising from imperfections in the banks, and from the
erection of toll-houses and public houses for the accommodation of the boatmen, were
considerable; but the heaviest expenses were incurred in opening the Merrimac for
navigation. From Concord, N.H., to the head of the canal the river has a fall of 123
ft., necessitating various locks and canals. The Middlesex Canal Corporation
contributed to the building of the Wiccasee locks and canals, $12,000; Union locks
and canals, $49,932; Hookset canal, $6,750; Bow canal [100] and locks, $14,115, making a sum
total of $82,797 to be paid from the income of the Middlesex canal.

The constant demand for money in excess of the incomes had proved demoralizing.
Funds had been raised from time to time by lotteries. In the Columbian “Centinel
& Massachusetts Federalist” of Aug. 15, 1804, appears an advertisement of the
Amoskeag Canal Lottery, 6,000 tickets at $5, with an enumeration of prizes. The
committee, consisting of Phillips Payson, Samuel Swan, Jr., and Loammi Baldwin, Jr.,
appealed to the public for support, assuring the subscribers that all who did not
draw prizes would get the full value of their money in the reduced price of fuel.

In 1816 the Legislature of Massachusetts granted the proprietors of the canal, in
consideration of its usefulness to the public, two townships of land in the district
of Maine, near Moosehead lake. This State aid, however, proved of no immediate
service, as purchasers could not be found for several years for property so remote.
Appeals to capitalists, lotteries, and State aid proved insufficient; the main burden
fell upon the stockholders. In accordance with the provisions of the charter,
assessments had been levied, as occasion required, up to 1816, 99 in number,
amounting to $670 per share; and the corporation was still staggering under a debt of
$64,000. Of course, during all this time, no dividends could be declared.

Under these unpromising conditions a committee, consisting of Josiah Quincy,
Joseph Hall, and Joseph Coolidge, Jr., was appointed to devise the appropriate
remedy. “In the opinion of your committee,” the report reads, “the real value of the
property, at this moment, greatly exceeds the market value, and many years will not
elapse before it will be considered among the best of all practicable monied
investments. The Directors contemplate no further extension of the canal. The work
is done
, both the original and subsidiary canals…. Let the actual incomes of
the canal be as great as they may, so long as they are consumed in payment of debts
and interest on loans, the aspect of the whole is that of embarrassment and mortgage.
The present rates of income, if continued, and there is every rational prospect, not
only of its continuance, but of its great and rapid increase, will enable the
corporation—when relieved of its present liabilities,—at once to commence
a series of certain, regular, and satisfactory dividends.” They accordingly
recommended a final assessment of $80 per share, completely to extinguish all
liabilities. This assessment, the 100th since the commencement, was levied in 1817,
making a sum total of $600,000, extorted from the long-suffering stockholders. If to
this sum the interest of the various assessments be added, computed to Feb. 1, 1819,
the date of the first dividend, the actual cost of each share is found to have been
$1,455.25.

The prosperity of the canal property now seemed fully assured. The first dividend,
though only $15, was the promise of golden showers in the near future, and the stock
once more took an upward flight. From 1819 to 1836 were the palmy days of the canal,
unvexed with debts, and subject to very moderate [101] expenses for annual repairs and
management.

It is difficult to ascertain the whole number of boats employed at any one time.
Many were owned and run by the proprietors of the canal; and many were constructed
and run by private parties who paid the regular tolls for whatever merchandise they
transported. Boats belonging to the same parties were conspicuously numbered, like
railway cars to-day. From “Regulations relative to the Navigation of the Middlesex
Canal,” a pamphlet published in 1830, it appears that boats were required to be not
less than 40 ft. nor more than 75 ft. in length and not less than 9 ft. nor more than
9-1/2 ft. in width. Two men, a driver and steersman, usually made up the working
force; the boats, however, that went up the Merrimac required three men, one to
steer, and two to pole. The Lowell boats carried 20 tons of coal; 15 tons were
sufficient freight for Concord; when the water in the Merrimac was low, not more than
6 or 7 tons could be taken up the river. About 1830 the boatmen received $15 per
month.

Lumber was transported in rafts of about 75 ft. long and 9 ft. wide; and these
rafts, not exceeding ten in number, were often united in “bands.” A band of seven to
ten rafts required the services of five men, including the driver. Boats were drawn
by horses, and lumber by oxen; and “luggage boats” were required to make two and a
half miles an hour, while “passage boats” attained a speed of four miles. Boats of
the same class, and going the same way, were not allowed to pass each other, thus
making “racing” impossible on the staid waters of the old canal. Whenever a boat
approached a lock, the conductor sounded his horn to secure the prompt attention of
the lock-tender; but due regard was paid to the religious sentiment of New England.
Travelling in the canal being permitted on Sundays, “in consideration of the distance
from home at which those persons using it generally are, it may be reasonably
expected that they should not disturb those places of public worship near which they
pass, nor occasion any noise to interrupt the tranquillity of the day. Therefore, it
is established that no Signal-Horn shall be used or blown on Sundays.”

The tariff varied greatly from year to year. In 1827 the rate from Lowell to
Boston was $2.00 the gross ton; but many articles were carried on much lower
terms.

On account of liability of damage to the banks of the canal, all navigation ceased
at dark; hence, at every lock, or series of locks, a tavern was established. These
were all owned by the corporation, and were often let to the lock-tender, who eked
out his income by the accommodation of boatmen and horses. The Bunker Hill Tavern, in
Charlestown, situated so as to accommodate both county and canal travel, was leased,
in 1830, for $350; in 1838, it let for $500. The Horn Pond House, at Woburn, in 1838,
was leased for $700. In 1825, a two-story dwelling-house, 36 X 18, built at a cost of
$1,400, for the accommodation of boatmen and raftsmen, at Charlestown, rented, with
stable attached, for $140. In all these cases, the real estate was supposed to pay
ten per cent.

Some of these canal-taverns established a wide reputation for good [102] cheer, and boatmen
contrived to be overtaken by night in their vicinity. Sometimes fifteen or twenty
boats would be detained at one of these favorite resorts, and a jolly crowd
fraternized in the primitive bar-room. The temperance sentiment had not yet taken a
firm hold in New England. “Flip” was the high-toned beverage of those days; but
“black-strap,” a compound of rum and molasses, sold at three cents a glass, was the
particular “vanity” of the boatmen. In the smaller taverns, a barrel of old Medford,
surmounted by a pitcher of molasses, scorning the flimsy subterfuges of modern times,
boldly invited its patrons to draw and mix at their own sweet will. “Plenty of
drunkenness, Uncle Joe, in those days?” we queried of an ancient boatman who was
dilating upon the good old times. “Bless your heart, no!” was the answer. “Mr. Eddy
didn’t put up with no drunkards on the canal. They could drink all night, sir, and be
steady as an eight-day clock in the morning.”

When the feverish haste born of the locomotive and telegraph had not yet infected
society, a trip over the canal in the passenger-packet, the “Governor Sullivan,” must
have been an enjoyable experience. Protected by iron rules from the dangers of
collision; undaunted by squalls of wind, realizing, should the craft be capsized,
that he had nothing to do but walk ashore, the traveller, speeding along at the
leisurely pace of four miles per hour, had ample time for observation and reflection.
Seated, in summer, under a capacious awning, he traversed the valley of the Mystic
skirting the picturesque shores of Mystic pond. Instead of a foreground of blurred
landscape, vanishing, ghostlike, ere its features could be fairly distinguished, soft
bits of characteristic New England scenery, clear cut as cameos, lingered caressingly
on his vision; green meadows, fields riotous with blossomed clover, fragrant
orchards, and quaint old farmhouses, with a background of low hills wooded to their
summits.

Passing under bridges, over rivers, between high embankments, and through deep
cuttings, floated up hill by a series of locks, he marvelled at this triumph of
engineering, and, if he were a director, pictured the manufactories that were to
spring up along this great thoroughfare, swelling its revenues for all time.

The tow-path of the canal was a famous promenade. Upon Sunday afternoons,
especially, numerous pedestrians from the dusty city strolled along the canal for a
breath of fresh air and a glimpse of the open country, through the Royal estate in
Medford, past the substantial old-fashioned mansion-house of Peter C. Brooks, as far,
perhaps, as the Baldwin estate, and the birthplace of Count Rumford, in Woburn. “I
love that old tow-path,” said Uncle Joe. “‘Twas there I courted my wife; and every
time the boat went by she came tripping out to walk a piece with me! Bless you, sir
the horses knew her step, and it wan’t so heavy, nuther.”

Meanwhile, under the direction of Caleb Eddy, who assumed the agency of the
corporation in 1825, bringing great business ability and unquenchable zeal to his
task, the perishable wooden locks were gradually replaced with stone, a new stone dam
was built at Billerica, and the service brought to a high state of efficiency. [103] The new dam was
the occasion of a lawsuit brought by the proprietors of the Sudbury meadows, claiming
damages to the extent of $10,000 for flooding their meadows. The defendants secured
the services of Samuel Hoar, Esq., of Concord, assisted by the Hon. Daniel Webster,
who accepted a retaining fee of $100 to “manage and argue the case in conjunction
with Mr. Hoar. The cause was to have been tried November, 1833. Mr. Webster was
called on by me and promised to examine the evidence and hold himself in readiness
for the trial, but for some time before he was not to be found in Boston, at one time
at New York, at another in Philadelphia, and so on from place to place so that I am
satisfied no dependance can be placed with certainty upon his assistance, and,”
plaintively concludes the agent, “our $100 has gone to profit and loss account.”

On the other side was the Hon. Jeremiah Mason, assisted by Franklin Dexter, Esq.
This case was decided the following year adversely to the plaintiffs.

With the accession of business brought by the corporations at Lowell, the prospect
for increased dividends in the future was extremely encouraging. The golden age of
the canal appeared close at hand; but the fond hopes of the proprietors were once
more destined to disappointment. Even the genius of James Sullivan had not foreseen
the railway locomotive. In 1829 a petition was presented to the Legislature for the
survey of a railroad from Boston to Lowell. The interests of the canal were seriously
involved. A committee was promptly chosen to draw up for presentation to the General
Court “a remonstrance of the Proprietors of Middlesex Canal, against the grant of a
charter to build a railroad from Boston to Lowell.” This remonstrance, signed by
William Sullivan, Joseph Coolidge, and George Hallett, bears date of Boston, Feb. 12,
1830, and conclusively shows how little the business men of fifty years ago
anticipated the enormous development of our resources consequent upon the application
of steam to transportation:—

The remonstrants take pleasure in declaring, that they join in the common
sentiment of surprise and commendation, that any intelligence and enterprise should
have raised so rapidly and so permanently, such establishments as are seen at
Lowell. The proprietors of these works have availed themselves of the canal,
for their transportation for all articles, except in the winter months … and
every effort has been made by this corporation to afford every facility, it was
hoped and believed, to the entire satisfaction of the Lowell proprietors. The
average annual amount of tolls paid by these proprietors has been only about four
thousand dollars. It is believed no safer or cheaper mode of conveyance can ever be
established, nor any so well adapted for carrying heavy and bulky articles. To
establish therefore a substitute for the canal alongside of it, and in many
places within a few rods of it, and to do that which the canal was made to do,
seems to be a measure not called for by any exigency, nor one which the Legislature
can permit, without implicitly declaring that all investments of money in public
enterprises must be subjected to the will of any applicants who think that they may
benefit themselves without regard to older enterprises, which have a claim to
protection from public authority. With regard, then, to transportation of tonnage
goods, the means exist for all but the winter months, as effectually as any that
can be provided.

There is a supposed source of revenue [104] to a railroad, from carrying passengers. As to
this, the remonstrants venture no opinion, except to say, that passengers are now
carried, at all hours, as rapidly and safely as they are anywhere else in the
world…. To this, the remonstrants would add, that the use of a railroad, for
passengers only
, has been tested by experience, nowhere, hitherto; and that it
remains to be known, whether this is a mode which will command general confidence
and approbation, and that, therefore, no facts are now before the public, which
furnish the conclusion, that the grant of a railroad is a public exigency even for
such a purpose. The Remonstrants would also add, that so far as they know and
believe, “there never can be a sufficient inducement to extend a railroad from
Lowell westwardly and northwestwardly, to the Connecticut, so as to make it the
great avenue to and from the interior, but that its termination must be at
Lowell
” (italics our own), “and, consequently that it is to be a substitute for
the modes of transportation now in use between that place and Boston, and cannot
deserve patronage from the supposition that it is to be more extensively
useful
….”

The Remonstrants, therefore, respectfully submit: First, that there be no such
exigency as will warrant the granting of the prayer for a railroad to and from
Lowell.

Secondly, that, if that prayer be granted, provision should be made as a
condition for granting it, that the Remonstrants shall be indemnified for the
losses which will be thereby occasioned to them.

This may seem the wilful blindness of self-interest; but the utterances of the
press and the legislative debates of the period are similar in tone. In relation to
another railroad, the “Boston Transcript” of Sept. 1, 1830, remarks: “It is not
astonishing that so much reluctance exists against plunging into doubtful
speculations…. The public itself is divided as to the practicability of the Rail
Road. If they expect the assistance of capitalists, they must stand ready to
guarantee the percentum per annum; without this, all hopes of Rail Roads are
visionary and chimerical.” In a report of legislative proceedings published in the
“Boston Courier,” of Jan. 25, 1830, Mr. Cogswell, of Ipswich, remarked: “Railways,
Mr. Speaker, may do well enough in old countries, but will never be the thing for so
young a country as this. When you can make the rivers run back, it will be time
enough to make a railway.” Notwithstanding the pathetic remonstrances and strange
vaticinations of the canal proprietors, the Legislature incorporated the road and
refused compensation to the canal. Even while the railroad was in process of
construction, the canal directors do not seem to have realized the full gravity of
the situation. They continued the policy of replacing wood with stone, and made every
effort to perfect the service in all its details; as late as 1836 the agent
recommended improvements. The amount of tonnage continued to increase—the very
sleepers used in the construction of the railway were boated, it is said, to points
convenient for the workmen.

In 1832 the canal declared a dividend of $22 per share; from 1834 to 1837,
inclusive, a yearly dividend of $30.

The disastrous competition of the Lowell Railroad was now beginning to be felt. In
1835 the Lowell goods conveyed by canal paid tonnage dues of $11,975.51; in 1836 the
income from this source had dwindled to [105] $6,195.77. The canal dividends had been kept up to their
highest mark by the sale of its townships in Maine and other real estate: but now
they began to drop. The year the Lowell road went into full operation the receipts of
the canal were reduced one-third; and when the Nashua & Lowell road went into
full operation, in 1840, they were reduced another third. The board of directors
waged a plucky warfare with the railroads, reducing the tariff on all articles, and
almost abolishing it on some, till the expenditures of the canal outran its income;
but steam came out triumphant. Even sanguine Caleb Eddy became satisfied that longer
competition was vain, and set himself to the difficult task of saving fragments from
the inevitable wreck.

At this time (1843) Boston numbered about 100,000 inhabitants, and was dependent
for water upon cisterns and wells. The supply of water in the wells had been steadily
diminishing for years, and what remained was necessarily subject to contamination
from numberless sources. “One specimen which I analyzed,” said Dr. Jackson, “which
gave three per cent, of animal and vegetable putrescent matter, was publicly sold as
a mineral water; it was believed that water having such a remarkable fetid odor and
nauseous taste, could be no other than that of a sulphur spring; but its medicinal
powers vanished with the discovery that the spring arose from a neighboring drain.”
Here was a golden opportunity. Eddy proposed to abandon the canal as a means of
transportation, and convert it into an aqueduct for supplying the City of Boston with
wholesome water. The sections between the Merrimac and Concord at one extremity, and
Charlestown mill-pond and Woburn at the other, were to be wholly discontinued.
Flowing along the open channel of the canal from the Concord river to Horn-pond locks
in Woburn, from thence it was to be conducted in iron pipes to a reservoir upon Mount
Benedict in Charlestown, a hill eighty feet above the sea-level.

The good quality of the Concord-river water was vouched for by the “analysis of
four able and practical chemists, Dr. Charles T. Jackson, of Boston; John W. Webster,
of Cambridge University; S.L. Dana, of Lowell, and A.A. Hayes, Esq., of the chemical
works at Roxbury.” The various legal questions involved were submitted to the Hon.
Jeremiah Mason, who gave an opinion, dated Dec. 21, 1842, favorable to the project.
The form for an act of incorporation was drawn up; and a pamphlet was published, in
1843, by Caleb Eddy, entitled an “Historical sketch of the Middlesex Canal, with
remarks for the consideration of the Proprietors,” setting forth the new scheme in
glowing colors.

But despite the feasibility of the plan proposed, and the energy with which it was
pushed, the agitation came to naught; and Eddy, despairing of the future, resigned
his position as agent in 1845. Among the directors during these later years were
Ebenezer Chadwick, Wm. Appleton, Wm. Sturgis, Charles F. Adams, A.A. Lawrence, and
Abbott Lawrence; but no business ability could long avert the catastrophe. Stock fell
to $150, and finally the canal was discontinued, according to Amory’s Life of
Sullivan, in 1846. [106] It would seem, however, that a revival of business was
deemed within the range of possibilities, for in conveyances made in 1852 the company
reserved the right to use the land “for canalling purposes”; and the directors
annually went through with the form of electing an agent and collector as late as
1853.

“Its vocation gone, and valueless for any other service,” says Amory, “the canal
property was sold for $130,000. After the final dividends, little more than the
original assessments had been returned to the stockholders.” Oct. 3, 1859, the
Supreme Court issued a decree, declaring that the proprietors had “forfeited all
their franchises and privileges, by reason of non-feasance, non-user, misfeasance and
neglect.” Thus was the corporation forever extinguished.


THE TAVERNS OF BOSTON IN YE OLDEN TIME.

BY DAVID M. BALFOUR.

The first tavern in Boston was kept by Samuel Coles. It was opened in March, 1633,
and stood near the south-west corner of Merchants row and Corn court, with an area in
front on Merchants row and also on Fanueil Hall square, which in latter days have
been covered with buildings. It was destroyed by fire during the early part of the
eighteenth century, and the older portion of the present edifice was erected in 1737,
which has been enlarged on the northerly side. It was towards the close of the last
century known as the “Brazier Inn,” and was kept by a widow lady of that name. It is
now known as the “Hancock House,” and is kept by a stalwart Scotchman named Alexander
Clarkson. Gov. Vane held a council in the south-westerly room in the second story
with Miantonomoh, the Narragansett chief. The same room was subsequently occupied by
Lafayette in 1773, and afterwards by Talleyrand in 1798.

The State Arms Tavern was built in 1645, and stood on the south-east corner of
State and Exchange streets. It was occupied as the custom-house just before the
Revolution.

The Star Inn was built in 1645, and stood on the north-east corner of Hanover and
Union streets. It was first kept by Thomas Hawkins, and afterwards by Andrew Neal, a
Scotchman. The Scots’ Charitable Society, of which the landlord was a member,
frequently held its meetings there.

The Roebuck Tavern was built in 1650. It stood on the east side of Merchants row,
between Clinton and North streets. It was believed to have been built by a descendant
of Richard Whittington, the Lord Mayor of London in 1419, who was famed for his love
of cats.

The Ship Tavern was built in 1651, and stood on North street, just beyond the
corner of Fleet street. John Vyall kept it in 1663, and it was at one time called
“Noah’s Ark.” The peace commissioners sent over by Charles II. held their sessions
there. It was demolished in 1866.

The King’s Arms Tavern was [107] built in 1654, and stood on the southeast corner of
Washington and Brattle streets, opposite the Samuel Adams statue.

The Red Lion Tavern stood on the north-west corner of North and Richmond streets.
It was built in 1654, and kept by Nicholas Upsall, a Quaker, who was persecuted,
imprisoned, and banished for his faith. Near this spot the devastating fire of
November 27, 1676, broke out in one Wakefield’s house.

The Blue Anchor Tavern stood on the site of No. 254 Washington street. It was
built in 1664, and kept by George Monck.

The Blue Anchor Tavern (the second of that name) was built in 1665, and stood on
Brattle street, upon the site which was afterwards Doolittle’s City Tavern. It was
first kept by Robert Turner, and was noted for its punch, and was a favorite
resort of public men.

The Blue Bell Tavern was built in 1673, and stood on the north-west corner of
Batterymarch street and Liberty square; a portion of the Mason building now occupies
its site. It was kept by Nathaniel Bishop, and afterwards by Alleric & Drury. In
1692 it was called the Castle Tavern, and ceased to be an inn after 1707.

The Castle Tavern (the second of that name) stood on the south-west corner of Dock
square and Elm street. It was erected by William Hudson in 1674, and kept by John
Wing in 1687, who gave his name to the street. In 1694 it was called the George
Tavern.

The King’s Head Tavern was built in 1680, and stood at the northeast corner of
North and Fleet streets. It was burnt in 1691, and afterwards rebuilt. It was kept by
James Davenport in 1755.

The Seven Star Inn stood, in 1684, on the south-west corner of Summer and Hawley
streets. It gave its name to the lane which was afterwards called Bishop’s alley.
Here, in 1736, was erected of wood the first edifice of Trinity Church. The land,
which originally contained 15,000 square feet, was bought of John Gibbins and William
Speakman for £450. This edifice was demolished in 1828 and a stone structure
erected in 1830, which was burnt in the great fire, November 8, 1872. The site, after
having its proportions curtailed, in order to widen Summer and Hawley streets,
containing 7,126 square feet, was sold to William D. Peckman, in 1874, for
$194,402.

The Sun Tavern stood on the southwest corner of Dock and Faneuil Hall squares. It
was built in 1690, and was kept by Samuel Mears in 1724, and by Day in 1753. It was
conveyed by Thomas Valentine in 1741 for £2,475 ($8,250); and by Joseph Jackson
in 1794 for £1,333-6-8 ($4,444); and by E.P. Arnold in 1865 for $20,000. The
Scots’ Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there. It was the
head-quarters of the British officers during the siege. It is the oldest building in
Boston.

The Queen’s Head Tavern stood at the north-west corner of North and Clark streets.
It was built in 1691.

The Green Dragon Inn was built in 1692. It was first kept by Alexander Smith, who
died in 1696, and was succeeded by Hannah Bishop, who was next succeeded by John
Cary. In 1734 Joseph Kidder was its landlord. In 1764 it was conveyed [108] by Catharine Kerr,
sister to Dr. William Douglas, to St. Andrew’s Lodge of Freemasons. It was a hospital
during the Revolution. It was the head-quarters of Joseph Warren, John Hancock,
Samuel Adams, James Otis, Paul Revere, and other patriots, during the Revolution. It
was called the Green Dragon Tavern after the Revolution, and at one time the
Freemasons’ Arms. Daniel Simpson, the veteran drummer, was at one time its landlord.
The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there. The Green Dragon
building, extending through from Union to (new) Washington street, now denotes its
site.

The Salutation Inn stood on the north-west corner of Hanover and Salutation
streets. It was built by John Brooking in 1692, and sold to Sir William Phips. John
Scollay kept it in 1697, who was succeeded by Samuel Green in 1731. It became famous,
later, when William Campbell kept it in 1773, when it was a rallying-place for the
patriots who gave rise to the word “Caucus.” The resolutions for the
destruction of the tea in Boston Harbor were drawn up there. It was also called the
Two Palaverers,” from the representation upon the sign of two old gentlemen
in wigs, cocked hats, and knee-breeches, saluting each other with much ceremony.

The Golden Bull Tavern was built in 1693, and stood on the south-east corner of
Merchants row and Chatham street. It was kept in 1752 by Marston.

The Black Horse Tavern was built in 1700, and stood on the west side of Prince
street, which in former days was called Black Horse lane, and Salem street. It was
noted as a hiding-place for deserters from Burgoyne’s army when stationed at
Cambridge.

The Half Moon Inn was built in 1705, and stood on the north-west corner of Fleet
and Sun court streets. It was kept in 1752 by Deborah Chick.

The Swan Tavern was built in 1707, and stood at the north-east corner of Fleet and
North streets.

The Orange Tree Inn was built in 1708, and stood on the north-east corner of Court
and Hanover streets during the Provincial period. White it was kept by Jonathan
Wardwell, in 1712, he set up the first hackney-coach stand. His widow kept it in
1724. It was demolished in 1785. It was noted for having a well of water which never
froze or dried up.

The Bull Tavern was built in 1713, and stood on the south-west corner of Summer
and Federal streets. It was there that sundry inhabitants at the South End met and
formed the project to erect a church on Church green, which was called the “New
South,” and presided over for a long series of years by Rev. Alexander Young,
D.D.

The Light House Tavern was built in 1717, and stood on the south side of King
(State) street, on the north-west corner of Devonshire street, opposite the Town
House (Old State House). It is not impossible that it may have been standing there in
1742. There was also another tavern of the same name at the North End in 1763, from
which the “Portsmouth Flying Stage” started every Saturday morning. It carried six
passengers inside; fare 13s. 6d. sterling ($3.25); to [109] Newburyport, 9s. ($2.17).
Returning, left Portsmouth on Tuesday.

The Marlboro’ Hotel was built in 1708, and took its name from the street In front,
and was the first public house in Boston dignified with the name of “Hotel.” John C.
Calhoun lodged there, while Secretary of War, upon his only visit to Boston, in 1818.
McNiel Seymour was its landlord in 1820. He afterwards became landlord of the
Atlantic Hotel, opposite the Bowling Green in New York. It had a stable in the rear
which accommodated the Providence line of stages. The site of the stable was
afterwards occupied by the Lowell Institute building. Agassiz, Lyell, Tyndall, Price,
and other scientists, delivered lectures there. Its walls have also resounded with
the eloquence of John Quincy Adams, Daniel Webster, Edward Everett, Rufus Choate,
Charles Sumner, Bayard Taylor, William Lloyd Garrison, James T. Fields, and other
famous men. Lafayette was given a banquet at the Marlboro’ upon his visit to Boston,
in 1824. The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there. About a
generation ago it changed its name to the Marlboro’ House, and it was conducted on
temperance principles. Hon. Henry Wilson, Vice-President of the United States, made
it his stopping-place while in the city. The elegant Hemenway building now occupies
its site.

The Cross Tavern was erected in 1709, and stood on the north-west corner of North
and Cross streets.

The Crown Coffee House stood on the south-west corner of State street and Chatham
row, and was built in 1710 by Gov. Belcher; and Mrs. Anna Swords was its first
landlord, and she was succeeded in 1751 by Robert Shelcock. The Scots’ Charitable
Society frequently held its meetings there.

The Bunch of Grapes Tavern was built in 1713, and stood on the north-west corner
of State and Kilby streets. Its first landlord was Francis Holmes, who was succeeded
in 1731 by William Coffin, by Joshua Barker in 1749, and by Col. Joseph Ingersoll in
1764. It was noted as being the best “punch-house” in Boston. Lafayette was a
guest there in 1774. In front of it, on the 4th of August, 1806, Charles Austin was
killed by Thomas O. Selfridge in self-defence. The Scots’ Charitable Society
frequently held its meetings there.

The George Tavern was built in 1720, and stood on the north-west corner of
Washington and Northampton streets. It afforded shelter for the patriots in annoying
the British during the siege. Its extensive orchard and gardens comprised seventeen
acres, and extended south to Roxbury street, and west to Charles river, which, until
the modern Back Bay improvement, extended to the west side of Tremont street. The
General Court, as well as some of the law courts, sat there prior to 1730. The
American post was located there in 1775, which was burnt by the British at night in
July of that year. It was near that spot, in 1824, when Lafayette visited Boston, a
triumphal arch was thrown across Washington street, bearing the couplet, written by
Charles Sprague,—

We bow not the neck, we bend not the knee.
But our hearts, LAFAYETTE! we surrender to thee.

The Royal Exchange Tavern was built in 1726, and stood on the south-west corner of
State and Exchange [110] streets, the site of the Merchants’ Bank building. It
gave its name to the street on its easterly side. Luke Vardy was its first landlord,
who was succeeded in 1747 by Robert Stone. It was in this building, in 1728, that the
altercation began which ended in the first duel fought in Boston, when Benjamin
Woodbridge was killed by Henry Phillips. The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently
held its meetings there.

The Old Mansion House was built in 1732, and stood on the south side of Milk
street, between Hawley and Arch streets, on the site of the Bowdoin building. It
stood a little back from the street, with large American elms in front, and was a
stopping place for old stage lines. Hon. Robert C. Winthrop was born there, and Hon.
Henry Dearborn occupied it at the time of his decease.

The Blue Anchor Tavern (the third of that name) was built in 1735, and stood on
the north-east corner of Water and Batterymarch streets. It was kept by Joseph
Wilson.

The British Coffee House was built in 1741, and stood on the site of No. 66 State
street, afterwards occupied by the Massachusetts Bank. It was kept, in 1762, by
Ballard, and was largely patronized by British officers. The repeal of the Stamp Act
was celebrated there in 1767. The eloquent James Otis was assaulted in it by a
British gang, and an injury was inflicted upon his head, which rendered him insane
for a long time. The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there.
Its name was changed to American Coffee House in 1776.

The Cromwell’s Head Tavern was built it 1751, and is still standing on the north
side of School street, upon the site of No. 13, where Mrs. Harrington deals out
coffee and mince pie to her customers. Lieut.-Col. GEORGE WASHINGTON lodged there in
1756, while upon a visit to Gov. Shirley, to consult with him upon business connected
with the French war. It was first kept by Anthony Brackett.

The Admiral Vernon Tavern was built in 1743, and stood on the south-east corner of
State street and Merchants row, and was first kept by Richard Smith. The Scots’
Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there.

The Sun Tavern (the second of that name) was built in 1757, and stood on the east
side of Washington street, nearly opposite Cornhill, and was first kept by James Day,
and was a popular resort of the Sons of Liberty.

The Julien House was built in 1759, and stood on the north-west corner of Milk and
Congress streets, formerly the site of an old tannery. It was first kept by Jean
Baptiste Julien, a French refugee. It was the resort of the bon vivants of the
town in former days. It is narrated of him that, upon the occasion of a
recherche dinner, one of the guests complained that the viands were not
sufficiently high-seasoned. “Eh bien” said Julien, “put a leetle more de
peppaire
.” He died in 1805, and he was succeeded by his widow, and afterwards by
Rouillard, until 1823, when it was demolished, and supplanted by Julien, afterwards
Congress Hall. Miss Frances Ann Wright delivered lectures there in 1829.

The White Horse Tavern stood on the north-west corner of Washington [111] and Boylston
streets. It was first kept by Joseph Morton.

The Bull’s Head Tavern was built in 1774, and stood on the north-east corner of
Congress and Water streets, the site, for several years prior to 1830, of the
post-office, Merchants’ Hall, and Topliff’s Reading-room, and now occupied by the
Massachusetts and Shawmut banks, and called the Howe building.

Concert Hall stood at the south-east corner of Hanover and Court streets. It was
built in 1750, and was at one time occupied by the Deblois family. It was first
occupied as a public house in 1791. It was famous for political meetings, fashionable
dancing parties, and public exhibitions. Madrel exhibited his chess-player,
conflagration of Moscow, and other wonderful pieces of mechanism there. The famous
Belgian giant, Bihin, exhibited himself there. He was a well-proportioned man, and
such was his height that the historian Motley stood under his armpits. Amherst Eaton
was its landlord in the early days of the century. It was kept of late years by Peter
B. Brigham, and was demolished in 1868, in order to widen Hanover street. The Scots’
Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there.

The Lamb Tavern was built in 1745, and stood on the west side of Washington
street, just beyond the corner of West street. Colonel Doty kept it in 1760, who was
succeeded by Edward Kingman in 1826, and by Laban Adams, in whose honor the Adams
House was named and opened in 1846. It was a popular resort of the country members of
the Legislature.

The Lion Tavern was built in 1793, and stood just north of the Lamb Tavern, and
occupied the site of the building for several years known as the Melodeon. In 1835
the tavern was converted into the Lion Theatre, which had a short-lived existence. It
was then purchased by the Handel and Haydn Society, and occupied for musical
purposes, lectures, and other entertainments. Rev. Theodore Parker began lecturing
there soon after the famous South Boston sermon upon the transient and permanent in
Christianity.

The North End Coffee House was built in 1782, and stood on the north-west corner
of North and Fleet streets. It was kept by the grandfather of the Illustrious David
D. Porter.

The Bite Tavern was built in 1795, and stood in Faneuil Hall square, a little west
of Change avenue. James M. Stevens was its last landlord. It was a favorite resort of
market-men, and ceased to be a public house about a quarter of a century ago.

Holland’s Coffee House was built in 1800, in Howard street, near Court street. It
was afterwards called the Howard Street House, and kept by William Gallagher, whose
tomb “erected by those connected with him by no tie of kindred, who knew, loved, and
honored him,” stands on Primrose Path in Mt. Auburn. It was afterwards called the
Pemberton House. It was a favorite resort of literary, dramatic, and musical people.
The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there. It was destroyed by
fire in 1854, and the site was occupied for a short time by a wooden circular
structure [112]
called Father Miller’s Tabernacle, which, in turn, was burnt, when the Howard
Athenæum rose upon its site.

The Eastern Stage House was built in 1806, and upon the site of No. 90 North
street. It was from that spot that the first stage-coach in America started, in 1660,
for Portsmouth (N.H.). It was first kept by Col. Ephraim Wildes, and afterwards by
his son, Moses. It was built of brick, three stories high, and entered by a flight of
steps, and contained sixty rooms. It was the most extensive stage rendezvous in
Boston, accommodating the stages to Portsmouth, Portland, Bangor, and Maine,
generally. The stages entered its spacious court-yard under an arch leading from
North street. After an existence of forty years, it was demolished to make room for
commercial improvements.

Earl’s Coffee House was built in 1807, and was located at No. 24 Hanover street,
upon the site, in part, of the present American House. It was kept by Hezekiah Earl,
and was the head-quarters of the New York, Albany, and other stage lines.

Wilde’s Tavern was built in the same year, and was located on the north-east
corner of (new) Washington and Elm streets. It was demolished in 1874 to make room
for the Washington-street extension.

Doolittle’s City Tavern was also built in 1807, and stood on the north-west corner
of (new) Washington and Brattle streets. It was the head-quarters of the Providence
line of stages. It was demolished in 1874 to make room for the improvement before
alluded to.

The Exchange Coffee House was built in 1808, and stood on Congress street, upon
the site of the present Howard Bank building, and at the time of its erection was the
largest house of public entertainment in the United States. It extended through to
Devonshire street, with an entrance on State street. It bounded 132 feet on Congress
street, with a depth of 94 feet and upwards. It covered an area of 12,753 square
feet, was seven stories in height, surmounted with a dome 101 feet in diameter. It
had 210 apartments. Its erection was begun in 1805, and occupied two and a half years
in construction. Commodore Hull, after capturing the Guerrière in 1812,
had a public dinner given him there. The Grand Lodge of Freemasons, and some
subordinate lodges, had their head-quarters there. The Scots’ Charitable Society
frequently held its meetings there. It was destroyed by fire in 1818, rebuilt in
1822, with contracted dimensions, and in 1853 was demolished to give place to the
City Exchange on Congress square and Devonshire street. James Wilson, the last of the
town-criers, had his office in the Bell-in-Hand Tavern in the basement. At the time
of the fire Hon. Henry Clay was a guest in the house, and worked bravely at the
engine brakes. Hon. David Crockett, a famous member of Congress from Tennessee,
lodged there during his visit to Boston in 1834. He addressed an audience from the
eastern portico of the Old State House, and in expatiating upon the prospects of the
country, predicted that it would extend within a score of years from the
Atlantic to the “Specific.” Among his witty sayings will be
remembered,—”Be [113] sure you’re right then go ahead.” He died in 1841,
fighting for Texan independence. It was kept in former days by Col. James Hamilton,
afterwards by William Gallagher, Hart Davenport, and lastly by McGill &
Fearing.

Washington Hotel was built in 1809, and stood in Bromfield street. It subsequently
took the name of Indian Queen, and latterly Bromfield House. Selden Crockett was its
last landlord. It ceased to be a public house about a dozen years since.

The Elm Street Hotel was built in 1812, and stood on the north-west corner of
(new) Washington and (No. 9) Elm streets. It was kept by Hart Davenport. Its yard was
obliterated in 1874 to make room for the Washington-street extension, and the
building in 1882 for a site for commercial purposes.

The Massachusetts House was built in 1816, and still stands on the south-west
corner of Endicott and Cross streets. It is a favorite resort of horse-jockeys and
horse-fanciers.

Forster’s Coffee House was built in 1817, and stood on the corner of Court and
Howard streets. The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently held its meetings there.

The Commercial Coffee House stood on the north-east corner of Milk and
Batterymarch streets. It was built in 1817, and stood on the site of Hallowell’s
shipyard. It was kept by William Merriam in 1829, John Low in 1837, Col. Whitney in
1844, and lastly, in 1848, by James Longley, when it ceased to be a public house, and
gave place to the Thorndike building. The preliminary meeting of the Mercantile
Library Association was held there in 1820. It was a favorite resort of Eastern
people.

Washington Hotel (the second of that name) was erected in 1819, and stood on the
north-west corner of Washington street and Worcester place. It was kept in 1836, and
for a few years succeeding, by Amherst Eaton. The Washington House was built in 1820,
and stood on the site of the present Washington market, on the south-west corner of
Washington and Lenox streets. The Messrs. Cooley kept it, and it was a favorite
resort for sleighing parties.

In 1821 William Fenno opened a tavern in Cornhill square, and afterwards on the
east side of Theatre alley (Devonshire street), near the corner of Franklin,
adjoining what was the site of the (old) Boston Theatre, and latterly in Province
street, near the south-easterly corner of Bromfield street.

The Stackpole House was built in 1732, and was the mansion of William Stackpole, a
noted Boston merchant. It stood on the north-east corner of Milk and Devonshire
streets, and was first kept as a public house in 1823 by Rouillard, formerly of the
Julien House, and was a favorite resort of the choice spirits of former days. It was
afterwards kept by James W. Ryan. Among its last landlords was Alexander McGregor, a
stalwart Scotchman, and descendant of Rev James McGregor who led the colony which
made the first settlement in Deny (N.H.) in 1824. The Scots’ Charitable Society, of
which the landlord was a member, frequently held its meetings there. It was
demolished in 1868, to make room for the post-office edifice.

[114]

The Sun Tavern (the third of that name) was built in 1801, and stood on the
north-west corner of Battery march and Hamilton streets, and was the mansion of
Benjamin Hallowell, who owned a shipyard opposite to his residence. It was first kept
as a public house in 1824 by Goodwich, and in 1841 by Capewell, when it ceased to be
a public house, and was demolished when Fort Hill was leveled in 1865. It was a
popular resort of Eastern people.

The Lafayette Hotel was built in 1825, and stood on the east side of Washington
street, opposite Boylston market. It was largely patronized by people from the
country. Haskell was its landlord in 1836. The Scots’ Charitable Society frequently
held its meetings there.

The Tremont House was built in 1828, and opened October 1, 1829. It was owned by
William H. Eliot, brother of the mayor of Boston 1837-1840. It was the prototype of
the large caravanseries which dot the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Its
first landlord was Dwight Boyden, who retired from its management in 1836 to assume
that of the Astor House, which was opened May 1 in that year. It was the
stopping-place of Webster on his way from Marshfield to Washington. It sheltered
President Jackson upon his visit to Boston in 1833, a decade later President Tyler,
and President Johnson in 1867. It was the temporary abode of Charles Dickens upon his
first visit to America in 1842. Under its roof the Ashburton treaty, defining the
north-eastern boundary between the United States and Great Britain, was negotiated by
Lord Ashburton on behalf of the mother country, Abbott Lawrence on the part of
Massachusetts, and Edward Kent on the part of Maine. Some of the most renowned men in
the world have fed at its tables and slept under its roof. It still lives in its
pristine vigor, and will not yield the palm to any hostelry in the world.

The Franklin House was built in 1830, and stood on the west side of Merchants row,
between North Market and North streets, opposite the head of Clinton street. It was a
favorite resort of Eastern people. Joshua Sears, an eminent merchant on Long wharf,
made it his home for several years.

The Shawmut House was built in 1831, and stood on the north side of Hanover
street, and its site is now absorbed in the American House. The Scots’ Charitable
Society frequently held its meetings there.

Liberty Tree Tavern was built in 1833, and stood on the south-east corner of
Washington and Essex streets, upon the identical spot where formerly stood the famous
Liberty Tree, which was planted in 1646, and become famous in Stamp Act times, and
was cut down by the British in 1775.

The Mount Washington House was built in 1834 by a company of which Hon. John K.
Simpson was president, who occupied the “Old Feather Store” on the corner of Faneuil
Hall square and North street, built in 1680. The company became bankrupt, and it was
sold in 1839 to the Perkins Institute and New England Asylum for the Blind. Its
location on Washington Heights admirably adapts it for the benevolent purpose for
which it is now used.

[115]

The Maverick House was opened on Noddies or Williams Island on the 27th of May,
1835. At the date of its erection the island contained but a score of dwellings, two
or three factories, and a half-dozen of mechanics’ shops. Major Jabez W. Barton was
its first landlord. It was built of wood, 94 feet long and 85 feet wide, six stories
high, and contained more than eighty rooms. In 1838 its width was increased to 160
feet. C.M. Taft became its landlord in 1841. The house, stables, and furniture were
sold in 1842 to John W. Fenno for $62,500. The house was taken down in 1845 and a
block of buildings erected by Noah Sturtevant. Different parts of the block were
respectively occupied as a hotel, dwelling-houses, stores, and offices, until it was
burnt January 25, 1857. A new building was erected upon its site, by Mr. Sturtevant,
of iron and brick covered with mastic, 130 feet long on Maverick square, with an
average width of no feet, and containing 180 rooms. It was opened February 23, 1858,
and was called for a decade or more the Sturtevant House, when it resumed its former
name of Maverick House. In its rear, on the 25th of September, 1819, a duel was
fought by Lieutenants Finch and White between two elm-trees standing between Meridian
and Border streets, nearly opposite the Church of the Holy Redeemer. White fell and
died upon the spot.

The Pearl Street House stood on the north-west corner of Milk and Pearl streets,
and was built in 1816, and was the mansion of William Pratt. It was first occupied as
a hotel in 1836. Colonel Shepherd was its first landlord. The Scots’ Charitable
Society frequently held its meetings there. It was obliterated in the great fire of
November 8, 1872.

The Perkins House was built in 1815, and was the mansion of Hon. Thomas H.
Perkins, who donated it in 1833 to the Asylum for the Blind. It stood on the west
side of Pearl street, about midway between Milk and High streets. It remained there
under the management of Samuel G. Howe until the encroachments of business demanded
its removal. In 1839 the institution was transferred to the Mount Washington House.
The Perkins House was opened in that year under the management of a Scotchman named
Thomas Gordon. It was a favorite resort of those who dined down-town. The Scots’
Charitable Society, of which the landlord was a member, frequently held its meetings
there. It ceased to be a public house In 1848, when it succumbed to the advancing
waves of commerce.

The Congress House, built in the same year, was the mansion of Daniel Hammond, and
stood on the north-east corner of Pearl and High streets. It was opened as a public
house in 1840, and was kept by Hastings, until it was swept away in the great fire
before alluded to.

The Greyhound Tavern stood on Washington street, opposite Vernon street, upon the
site of Graham block. It was built in 1645, and was famous for the excellence of its
punch, and was much resorted to by the convivial spirits of Boston and vicinity. Its
last landlord was John Greaton. In 1752, and for many years subsequently, the Masonic
fraternity celebrated St. John’s day [116] there, and the courts sat there during the prevalence of
small-pox in Boston. A catamount, caught in the woods about eighty miles from Boston,
was exhibited there. It was a recruiting station for enlistments during the French
war. Gen. Washington resided there during the winter of 1776. It ceased to be a
tavern just after the Revolution. Such was its size that it contained forty
fireplaces. On its site was erected the first fire-engine house in Roxbury. A portion
of the building still stands in the rear of Graham block.

The Flower de Luce Tavern was built in 1687, and stood on the north-east corner of
Bartlett and Blanchard streets. It was there, in 1698, that a meeting was held “to
settle about the Muddy river people worshipping In their house.” Its last landlord
was Samuel Ruggles.

The Punch Bowl Tavern was built in 1729 by John Ellis, and stood in Brookline,
about two hundred feet west from the boundary line between Roxbury and Brookline,
upon the present site of Brookline gas-works, on the south-west corner of Washington
street and Brookline avenue. It was a two-story hipped-roof house, and its
enlargement from time to time, by the purchase and removal of old houses thither from
Boston and vicinity, resulted in an aggregation of rooms of all sorts and sizes, and
produced a new order of architecture, appropriately called “conglomerate” With
its out-buildings it occupied a large space, and was of a yellowish color, with a
seat running along the front under an overhanging projection of the second story. In
front and near each end were large elm-trees. Under the west end stood a pump, which
still remains. Its sign, suspended by a high, red post, exhibited a huge bowl and
ladle, overhung by a lemon-tree. It had a large dancing-hall, and was a favorite
resort for gay parties from Boston and vicinity. It was patronized by British
officers before the Revolution. The mill-dam and the bridges destroyed its
usefulness, and it was bought by Isaac Thayer, and demolished in 1833, with the
exception of one of its adjuncts, which now stands on the easterly side of Brookline
avenue, nearly opposite Emerald street.

Kent’s Tavern was built in 1747, and stood on the site of Grove Hall, built by,
and for many years the mansion of, Thomas Kilby Jones, a famous auctioneer of Boston,
and now known as the “Consumptives’ Home,” on the south-east corner of Washington
street and Blue Hill avenue. It was originally the home-stead of Samuel Payson, and
was owned by John Goddard in the early part of the last century. It ceased to be a
public house in 1796.

Hazlitt’s Tavern stood on the corner of Washington and Palmer streets. It was
built in 1764, and had a deer’s head for a sign. Afterwards it was known as the
“Roebuck Tavern,” John Brooks being its last landlord. It was first occupied as a
public house in 1820, and it was the place of refuge of Edmund Kean when driven by a
mob from the (old) Boston Theatre, December 21, 1825.

The Peacock Tavern was built in 1765, and stood at the south-westerly corner of
Centre and Allandale streets, near the famous mineral springs. It was kept by Capt.
Samuel Childs, who led the minutemen [117] company of the third parish in the Lexington battle. It
was purchased in 1794, with forty acres adjoining, by the patriot Samuel Adams, and
he occupied it during his gubernatorial term as a summer residence, and afterward
until the close of his honorable life.

On the north-west corner of Washington and Vernon streets, where Diamond block now
stands, there formerly stood an old house, which was occupied in 1805 as the Old Red
Tavern, kept by Martin Pierce.

The City Hotel was built of brick in 1804, and stood near the north-west corner of
Washington and Zeigler streets, and was the mansion of George Zeigler. It ceased to
be a public house about a third of a century ago.

Taft’s Tavern stood at the north-west corner of Washington and South streets, near
the Roslindale station, on the Dedham Branch railway. It was built in 1805, and first
kept by Sharp & Dunster, and was long famous for good dinners. The widow of
Samuel Burrill kept it during the War of 1813-1815. It is now the Roslindale
Hotel.

The Norfolk House was built in 1781, and was the mansion of Joseph Ruggles, a
well-known lawyer of that day. His uncle Joseph kept an inn in Roxbury in 1765. After
the decease of Capt. Nathaniel Ruggles the mansion was the residence of Hon. David A.
Simmons, who sold it to the Norfolk House Company in 1825, and it was opened in the
following year as a public house, a large brick addition having been built containing
a hall for public assemblies, known at first as Highland Hall, subsequently as
Norfolk Hall, which, in 1853, was moved to the rear. The old mansion now stands on
the north side of Norfolk street, and is occupied as a tenement-house. It was the
starting-point of the Roxbury hourly coaches, which began running to the Old South
Church on the first of March, 1826; fare, twelve and a half cents. It ceased to be a
public house a generation ago, and became the pioneer of that large class of domestic
and social comforts designated as “family hotels,” no less than sixty of which now
stand where, half a century ago, the tide ebbed and flowed.

In 1635 Robert Long with his wife and ten children arrived from Dunstable (Eng.)
at Charlestown, and in 1638 purchased the so-called “Great House,” originally erected
by Thomas Graves for the governor’s residence, for court-meetings, and public
religious worship, which stood in what is now City square, opposite the Waverley
House, and the base of the Town Hill. In a few years it was abandoned. Long paid
£30 for the premises, to be used as a tavern, or ordinary. No use of tobacco,
no card-playing, and no throwing of dice was allowed. He was allowed the use of a
pasture, provided he would fence it, for the use of the horses of the guests. He was
liable to a fine of ten shillings for every offence of selling at a price exceeding
sixpence for a meal, or taking more than a “penny for an ale-quart of beer out of
meal-times,” or for selling cake or buns except for marriages, burials, or like
special occasions. The tavern was well known afterwards as “The Three Cranes.” Mr.
Long and his sons [118] following him carried on the house for three-quarters of
a century, Robert, the first landlord, died January 9, 1664, and his widow May 27,
1687. In 1683 John, son of Robert, willed the house to his widow Mary, daughter of
Increase Nowell. The estate had a brew-house attached to it. In 1711 the property was
deeded by Mrs. Long to her son Samuel, and named in the deed as the “Great Tavern.”
Samuel, in 1712, sold it to Ebenezer Breed, when the house was called “The Old
Tavern.” The building was probably burnt in the destruction of Charlestown, on the
day of the Battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775. Finally, the land was bought by the
town, and is now part of City square.

The Cape Breton Tavern was built in 1731, and stood on the corner of Main street
and Hancock square. It was burnt in the general conflagration of June 17, 1775.

The Ship Tavern was built in 1748, and stood on the south-east corner of Charles
River avenue and Water street. It was kept by Benjamin Gerrish.

The Warren Tavern was built in 1775, and still stands on the south-west corner of
Main and Pleasant streets. It was first kept by Eliphalet Newell. It was from that
edifice that the procession connected with funeral ceremonies in honor of GEORGE
WASHINGTON started on the 31st of December, 1799, when the nation mourned as one man
the departed patriot, statesman, and chieftain, “upon whose like they should not look
again.”

Trumbull’s Tavern stood on the north-east corner of Charles River avenue and Water
street. It was built in 1771.

The Indian Chief Tavern was built in 1779, and was the mansion of David Wood, an
influential citizen of Charlestown. It occupied the site of Harvard Church. It was
there that David Starrett, cashier of the Hillsboro’, N.H., bank, was said to have
been robbed and murdered on the evening of March 26, 1812. Suspicion attached to
Samuel Gordon, the landlord. A reward of $200 was offered for the recovery of his
dead body, but without success. In 1814 Hon. Nathan Appleton received a letter from
Starrett, in South America, whither he had fled owing to the insolvency of the bank.
It contained a hall, in the second story, known as “Massachusetts Hall.” It was
removed in 1818 to the north-west corner of Main and Miller streets, and its name
changed to Eagle Tavern. It still stands, although it ceased to be a public house a
quarter of a century since.

The Mansion House stood on the south side of City square and north-west corner of
Warren avenue. It was erected in 1780 by Hon. Thomas Russell as a family mansion, and
occupied by him until his decease in 1796. It was afterwards occupied by Commodore
John Shaw, John Soley, Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Freemasons of
Massachusetts, and Andrew Dunlap, U.S. District Attorney, who conducted the trial of
the twelve pirates of the schooner “Pindu,” in 1834. It was first occupied as a hotel
in 1835, and kept by Gorham Bigelow, and afterwards by James Ramsay. It was
demolished in 1866 to make room for the Waverley House.

[119]

Page’s Tavern stood at the corner of Main and Gardner streets, and was afterwards
known as “Richards'”, and more latterly, “Babcock’s.” It was the starting-point of
the Charlestown hourly coaches, which commenced running April 1, 1828, to Brattle
street; fare, twelve and a half cents. Passengers were accommodated by being called
for, or left at their residences on cross streets. It ceased to be a public house
about a generation ago.

Piper’s Tavern stood on the south-west corner of Main and Alford streets.

Pierce’s Hotel stood on the north-west corner of Charles River avenue and Water
street. It was built in 1795 by Hon. Thomas Russell for a family mansion; but he died
just before its completion. In one of its rooms was a remarkable clock with a blue
dial and moving figures of men, which appeared when the clock struck the hours, and
then disappeared. The ordaining council of the first pastor of Harvard Church
convened there. It was at one time occupied by Silas Whitney, Jr., who was buried
from there with Masonic honors in 1824. Potter, the celebrated ventriloquist, held
his exhibitions there, to the delight of the youngsters of that day. It was last kept
by James Walker, and its name changed to the Middlesex House. It was destroyed by the
great fire of August 28, 1835.

Robbin’s Tavern stood on the west side of City square and south-east corner of
Harvard street. It was built in 1796, and stood directly in the rear of the site of
the Three Cranes Tavern, before alluded to. It was demolished in 1816, and the
Charlestown Town Hall erected upon its site, which, in turn, was demolished in 1868
to make room for the City Hall.

Ireland’s Tavern was built in 1797, and stood on the north side of Cambridge
street, near the Lowell Railroad bridge.

Yoelin’s Tavern was built in 1798, and stood on the east side of City square and
north-west corner of Chamber street. It was first occupied as a tavern in 1821, and
was destroyed by the great fire before alluded to. The first meeting of the
proprietors of Warren bridge was held there in 1828.

Copp’s Tavern was built in 1799, and stood on the south side of City square, near
the corner of Bow street. The building, which had ceased for some years to be
occupied as a tavern, was demolished in 1866 to make room for the Waverley House.

Sic transit gloria mundi.” Thus have disappeared from time to time, with
but few exceptions, the taverns, inns, and coffee-houses of the Town of Boston, while
the bodily forms of those who took their ease in them have long since crumbled into
dust. We will now resign to the pen of the local historian of a century hence to
describe the mammoth hostelries of the City of Boston, which have arisen since the
era of railways, steamships, electric telegraphs, ocean cables, telephones, electric
lights, and other modern developments of science and art.

[120]

EDITOR’S TABLE.

A correspondent asks in connection with an article in the May number on “Town and
City Histories,” in which was incidentally mentioned the government of Western towns
by trustees, the following question: “Can you tell me where I can find that
government treated of; also, that of towns in the Middle and Southern States?” The
question is a hard one to answer. Of the town meeting, that peculiarly New England
institution, much has been written; but about the local forms of government prevalent
in the States between the Hudson and the Pacific Ocean very little has found its way
into print. The local historians seem to take it for granted that all these things
are understood everywhere, and so shed little light on the question. The pages of
this magazine will be open to any one who can give the desired information.


The season of agricultural fairs, “cattle-shows” and the like, is about over.
There is scarcely a county in New England, scarcely a State in the Union, but has had
a fair of some sort or other. Most of them report better exhibits and larger
attendance than ever before. Some few report a falling off in attendance. That all
these fairs have done exhibitors much good is doubtful; that they have benefited the
thinking portion of their attendants is unquestionable. Unfortunately, the thinking
portion of a farming community is lamentably small. Most people go to a “cattle-show”
to be amused; a few go to learn. The few that derive benefit from seeing the wonders
of the earth collected in pens and on tables are helped just as a teacher gets
benefit from a teacher’s institute—both get food for thought. At the
cattle-show the farmer may learn of new methods and see their results. The
trouble is that the ordinary farmer goes to the fair for the same reason that the
average citizen buys a ticket to the menagerie—to see the circus. There are
more clowns at a cattle-show than the sawdust ever saw. The horses may not be so
pretty or gaudy, but they go faster. One man defended himself very frankly at the
dinner of a county fair in this State when he said: “The Lord made horses to go, and
I like to see them do it.” This question of trotting or no trotting at the fair is
not a new one; but with age it seems to acquire toughness,—like chickens, for
instance.

But passing by the horse question, we come to the question of clowns, which is
really a very serious one. It may be irreverent to compare “cattle-show” orators to
circus clowns, but really the temptation is irresistible; and then they are the only
features of the respective exhibitions that have speaking parts. Joking aside, there
are important lessons which the speaking and the speakers at the recent fairs may
teach us. We find that the candidate for office has become a great attraction, one
which the fair-managers bid high for. They draw well, too.

This calls to mind this year’s Salisbury Beach Festival, a time-honored
institution which has degenerated into a money-making affair in these later days.
This year there was, to be sure, a large crowd present, but yet the attendance was
smaller than in any year for a long time. The number of people present was between
3,500 and 5,000. Prominent gentlemen in Essex County were advertised to address the
crowd. The newspaper comment on the event is short and to the point: “There was no
speaking, as the crowd was more interested in seeing the Lawrence Base Ball Club beat
the Newbury porters, by a score of 9 to 7.” Again: “The principal attractions were
Professors Parker and Martin at the skating rink, and the 4,000-pound ox.”

O Tempora! O Mores!


Footnote 1: (return)

1884, by Frances C. Sparhawk.

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