BOSTON.
Geographical Location of Boston.--Ancient Names.--Etymology
of the Word Massachusetts.--Changes in the Peninsula.--Noted
Points of Interest.--Boston Common.--Old Elm.--Duel Under its
Branches.--Soldiers' Monument.--Fragmentary History.--Courtship
on the Common.--Faneuil Hall and Market.--Old State House.--
King's Chapel.--Brattle Square Church.--New State House.--
New Post Office.--Old South Church.--Birthplace of Franklin.--
"News Letter."--City Hall.--Custom House.--Providence Railroad
Station.--Places of General Interest.
Boston sits like a queen at the head of her harbor on the Massachusetts
coast, and wears her crown of past and present glory with an easy and
self-satisfied grace. Her commercial importance is large; her ships
float on many seas; and she rejoices now in the same uncompromising
spirit of independence which controlled the actions of the celebrated
"Tea Party" in the pioneer days of '76. Her safe harbor is one of the
best on the Atlantic seaboard, and is dotted with over a hundred
islands. On some of these, garrisoned forts look grimly seaward.
Boston is built on a peninsula about four miles in circumference, and to
this fact may be attributed the origin of her first name, Shawmutt, that
word signifying in the Indian vocabulary a peninsula. Its second name,
Tremount, took its rise from the three peaks of Beacon Hill, prominently
seen from Charlestown by the first settlers there. Many of the colonists
were from old Boston, in Lincolnshire, England, and on the seventh of
September, 1630, this name supplanted the first two.
[Illustration: BOSTON, AS VIEWED FROM THE BAY.]
In this connection may be given the etymology of the word Massachusetts,
which is somewhat curious. It is said that the red Sachem who governed
in this part of the country had his seat on a hill about two leagues
south of Boston. It lay in the shape of an Indian arrow's head, which in
their language was called Mos. Wetuset, pronounced _Wechuset_, was also
their name for a hill, and the Sachem's seat was therefore named
Mosentuset, which a slight variation changed into the name afterwards
received by the colony. Boston, as the centre of this colony, began from
the first to assume the importance of the first city of New England. Its
history belongs not only to itself, but to the country at large, as the
pioneer city in the grand struggle for constitutional and political
liberty. A large majority of the old landmarks which connected it with
the stormy days of the past, and stood as monuments of its primeval
history, are now obliterated by time and the steady march of
improvements. The face of the country is changed. The three peaks of
Beacon Hill, which once lifted themselves to the height of a hundred and
thirty feet above the sea, are now cut down into insignificant knolls.
The waters of the "black bay" which swelled around its base have receded
to give place to the encroachments of the city. Made lands, laid out in
streets and set thick with dwellings, supplant the mud flats formerly
covered by the tide. Thousands of acres which were once the bed of the
harbor are now densely populated.
The house on Harrison avenue where the writer is at present domiciled is
located on the spot which once was occupied by one of the best wharves
in the city. The largest ocean craft moored to this wharf, on account of
the great depth of water flowing around it. The land has steadily
encroached on the water, until the peninsula that was is a peninsula no
longer, and its former geographical outlines have dropped out of sight
in the whirl and rush of the populous and growing city. A few old
landmarks of the past, however, still remain, linking the _now_ and the
_then_, and among the most prominent of these are Faneuil Hall, the Old
South Church, which was founded in 1660, King's Chapel, the Old Granary
Burying-ground, Brattle Square Church, quite recently demolished, the
old State House, and Boston Common. The Common antedates nearly all
other special features of the city, and is the pride of Bostonians. Here
juvenile Boston comes in winter to enjoy the exciting exercise of
"coasting," and woe to the unwary foot passenger who may chance to
collide with the long sleds full of noisy boys which shoot like black
streaks from the head of Beacon street Mall, down the diagonal length of
the Common, to the junction of Boylston and Tremont streets. This winter
(1874-5), owing to several unfortunate accidents to passers-by across
the snowy roads of the coasters, elevated bridges have been erected, to
meet the wants of the people without interfering with the rights of the
boys. The Common was originally a fifty-acre lot belonging to a Mr.
Blackstone. This was in 1633. It was designed as a cow pasture and
training ground, and was sold to the people of Boston the next year,
1634, for thirty pounds. The city was taxed for this purpose to the
amount of not less than five shillings for each inhabitant. Mr.
Blackstone afterwards removed to Cumberland, Rhode Island, where he
died, in the spring of 1675. It is said that John Hancock's cows were
pastured on the Common in the days of the Revolution. On the tenth of
May, 1830, the city authorities forbade the use of the Common for cows,
at which time it was inclosed by a two-rail fence. The handsome iron
paling which now surrounds the historic area has long since taken the
place of the ancient fence.
Perhaps the most noticeable, certainly the most famous object on Boston
Common, is the Great Tree, or Old Elm, which stands in a hollow of rich
soil near a permanent pond of water, not far from the centre of the
enclosure. It is of unknown age. It was probably over a hundred years
old in 1722. Governor Winthrop came to Boston in 1630, but before that
period the tree probably had its existence. It antedates the arrival of
the first settlers, and it seems not unlikely that the Indian Shawmutt
smoked the pipe of peace under its pendent branches. In 1844 its height
was given at seventy-two and a half feet--girth, one foot above the
ground, twenty-two and a half feet. The storms of over two centuries
have vented their fury upon it and destroyed its graceful outlines. But
in its age and decrepitude it has been tenderly nursed and partially
rejuvenated. Broken limbs, torn off by violent gales, have been replaced
by means of iron clamps, and such skill as tree doctors may use. In the
last century a hollow orifice in its trunk was covered with canvas and
its edges protected by a mixture of clay and other substances. Later, in
1854, Mr. J. V. C. Smith, Mayor of the city, placed around it an iron
fence bearing the following inscription:--
"THE OLD ELM."
"This tree has been standing here for an unknown period. It is
believed to have existed before the settlement of Boston, being
full-grown in 1722. Exhibited marks of old age in 1792, and was
nearly destroyed by a storm in 1832. Protected by an iron
inclosure in 1854."
What a long array of exciting events has this tree witnessed! In the
stirring days of the Revolution the British army was encamped around it.
In 1812 the patriot army occupied the same place, in protecting the town
against the invasion of a foreign foe. Tumultuous crowds have here
assembled on election and Independence days, and its sturdy branches
have faced alike the anger of the elements and the wrath of man. Public
executions have taken place under its shadow, and witches have dangled
from its branches in death's last agonies. Here, in 1740, Rev. George
Whitfield preached his farewell sermon to an audience of thirty thousand
people; and here, also, at an earlier date, old Matoonas, of the Nipmuck
tribe, was shot to death by the dusky warriors of Sagamore John, on a
charge of committing the first murder in Massachusetts Colony. An
incident of still more romantic interest belongs to the history of the
Old Elm. On July third, 1728, this spot was the scene of a mortal combat
between two young men belonging to the upper circle of Boston society.
The cause of dispute was the possession of an unknown fair one. The
names of the young men were Benjamin Woodbridge and Henry Phillips, both
about twenty years old. The time was evening, the weapons rapiers, and
Woodbridge was fatally dispatched by a thrust from the rapier of his
antagonist. Phillips fled to a British ship of war lying in the harbor,
and was borne by fair breezes to English shores. He did not long survive
his opponent, however, dying, it is said, of despair, shortly after his
arrival in England.
Frog Pond, or Fountain Pond, near the Old Elm, has been transformed from
a low, marshy spot of stagnant water, to the clear sheet which is now
the delight of the boys. October twenty-fifth, 1848, the water from
Cochituate Lake was introduced through this pond, and in honor of the
occasion a large procession marched through the principal streets of the
city to the Common. Addresses, hymns, prayers, and songs, were the order
of the day, and when the pure water of the lake leaped through the
fountain gate, the ringing of bells and boom of cannon attested the joy
of the people.
Near the Old Elm and the Frog Pond, on Flagstaff Hill, the corner-stone
of a Soldiers' Monument was laid, September eighteenth, 1871. Some idea
of the style of the monument may be gathered from the following
description:--"Upon a granite platform will rest the plinth, in the form
of a Greek cross, with four panels, in which will be inserted
bas-reliefs representing the Sanitary Commission, the Navy, the
Departure for the War and the Return. At each of the four corners will
be a statue, of heroic size, representing Peace, History, the Army, and
the Navy. The die upon the plinth will also be richly sculptured, and
upon it, surrounding the shaft in alto-relievo, will be four allegorical
figures representing the North, South, East and West. The shaft is to be
an elegant Doric column, the whole to be surmounted by a colossal statue
of America resting on a hemisphere, guarded by four figures of the
American eagle, with outspread wings. 'America' will hold in her left
hand the national standard, and in her right she will support a sheathed
sword, and wreaths for the victors. The extreme height of the monument
will be ninety feet. The artist is Martin Millmore, of Boston."
In the year 1668, a certain Mr. Dunton visited Boston, and wrote the
following letter to his friends in England. It will serve to show the
custom of Bostonians on training day, and recall some of the scenes
which transpired over two hundred years ago on the historic Common. "It
is a custom here," he says, "for all that can bear arms to go out on a
training day. I thought a pike was best for a young soldier, so I
carried a pike; 'twas the first time I ever was in arms. Having come
into the field, the Captain called us into line to go to prayer, and
then prayed himself, and when the exercise was done the Captain likewise
concluded with a prayer. Solemn prayer upon a field, on training day, I
never knew but in New England, where it seems it is a common custom.
About three o'clock, our exercises and prayers being over, we had a very
noble dinner, to which all the clergymen were invited."
In 1640, Arthur Perry was Town Drummer for all public purposes. There
being no meeting-house bell in town, he called the congregation together
with his drum. "He joined the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company in
that capacity, for which yearly service he received five pounds. The
second additional musical instrument was a clarionet, performed on by a
tall, strapping fellow with but one eye, who headed the Ancient and
Honorable a few strides." The first band of music used in Boston was in
1790, at the funeral of Colonel Joseph Jackson. Yearly, for a period of
between two and three hundred years, this military company has appeared
on the Common, to be received by the Governor of the State, with his
aides, who appointed the new commissions for the year to come and
received those for the year just past. Their anniversary occurs on the
first Monday in June.
The Brewer Fountain, the Deer Park and the Tremont and Beacon Street
Malls complete the list of conspicuous attractions on the Common. The
Beacon Street Mall is perhaps the finest, being heavily shaded by
thickly-set rows of American elms. A particular portion of this mall is
described as the scene of at least _one_ courtship, and how many more
may have transpired in the neighborhood history or tradition tells us
not!
The "Autocrat of the Breakfast-table" loved the schoolmistress who
partook of her daily food at the same board with himself and listened
quietly to his wise morning talks, with only an occasional sensible
reply. The schoolmistress returned his passion, but the young Autocrat,
uncertain of his fate, rashly determined that if she said him "nay" to
this most important question of his life, he would take passage in the
next steamer bound for Liverpool, and never look upon her face again.
The fateful hour which was to decide his fate approached, and the
Autocrat proposed a walk. They took the direction of the Beacon Street
Mall, and what happened next his own charming pen-picture best
describes:
"It was on the Common that we were walking. The _mall_ or boulevard of
our Common, you know, has various branches leading from it in different
directions. One of these runs down from opposite Joy street, southward,
across the length of the whole Common, to Boylston street. We called it
the long path, and were fond of it.
"I felt very weak indeed (though of a tolerably robust habit) as we came
opposite the head of this path on that morning. I think I tried to speak
twice without making myself distinctly audible. At last I got out the
question:--'Will you take the long path with me?'
"'Certainly,' said the schoolmistress, 'with much pleasure.'
"'Think,' I said, 'before you answer; if you take the long path with me
now, I shall interpret it that we are to part no more!' The
schoolmistress stepped back with a sudden movement, as if an arrow had
struck her.
"One of the long, granite blocks used as seats was hard by, the one you
may still see close by the Ginko tree. 'Pray, sit down,' I said.
"'No, no,' she answered softly, 'I will walk the _long path_ with you.'"
Propositions to convert the Common into public thoroughfares have ever
met with stout resistance from "we the people"--the Commoners of
Boston--and only this winter a meeting was held in Faneuil Hall for the
purpose of protesting against this causeless desecration. The occasion
of the meeting was a clique movement to have a street-car track run
through the sacred ground. One of the speakers--a workingman--waxed
eloquent on the theme of the "poor man's park, where in summer a soiled
son of labor might buy a cent apple and lounge at his ease under the
shady trees."
In 1734, by vote of the town, a South End and North End Market were
established. Before this the people were supplied with meats and
vegetables at their own doors. In 1740, Peter Faneuil offered to build a
market-house at his own expense, and present it to the town. His
proposition was carried by seven majority. Faneuil Hall, the "Cradle of
Liberty," was first built two stories high, forty feet wide, and one
hundred feet in length. It was nearly destroyed by fire in 1761, and in
1805 it was enlarged to eighty feet in width and twenty feet greater
elevation. "The Hall is never let for money," but is at the disposal of
the people whenever a sufficient number of persons, complying with
certain regulations, ask to have it opened. The city charter of Boston
contains a provision forbidding the sale or lease of this Hall. For a
period of over eighty years--from the time of its erection until
1822--all town meetings were held within its walls. It is "peculiarly
fitted for popular assemblies, possessing admirable acoustic
properties."
The capacity of the Hall is increased by the absence of all seats on the
floor--the gallery only being provided with these conveniences.
Portraits cover the walls. Healy's picture of Webster replying to Hayne
hangs in heavy gilt, back of the rostrum. Paintings of the two Adamses,
of General Warren and Commodore Preble, of Edward Everett and Governor
Andrew, adorn other portions of the Hall. Nor are Washington and Lincoln
forgotten. The pictured faces of these noble patriots of the past seem
to shed a mysterious influence around, and silently plead the cause of
right and of justice. The words which echoed from this rostrum in the
days before the Revolution still ring down from the past, touching the
present with a living power whenever liberty needs a champion or the
people an advocate.
Faneuil Hall Market, or Quincy Market, as it is popularly called, grew
out of a recommendation by Mayor Quincy, in 1823. Two years later the
corner-stone was laid, and in 1827 the building was completed. It is
five hundred and thirty-five feet long, fifty feet wide, and two stories
high. Its site was reclaimed from the tide waters, and one hundred and
fifty thousand dollars were expended in its erection.
The capital for its construction was managed in such a judicious way
that not only the market was built, but six new streets were opened and
a seventh enlarged, without a cent of city tax or a dollar's increase of
the city's debt.
The Old State House was located on the site of the first public market,
at the head or western end of State street. It was commenced with a
bequest of five hundred pounds from Robert Keayne, the first commander
of the "Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company." It was known as the
Town House, and was erected about the year 1670. The present Old State
House was built in 1748, on the same site. Its vicinity is historic. The
square in State street below the Old State House, was the scene of the
Boston massacre, March fifth, 1770. "The funeral of the victims of the
massacre was attended by an immense concourse of people from all parts
of New England." About the same year also, in front of this Town House,
occurred the famous battle of the broom, between a fencing master just
arrived from England and Goff, the regicide. This English fencer erected
an elevated platform in front of the Town House and paraded, sword in
hand, for three days, challenging all America for a trial of his skill.
At this time three of the judges who signed the death warrant for
beheading Charles the First, of England, had escaped to Boston, and were
concealed by the people of Massachusetts and Connecticut. Their names
were Goff, Whalley and Dixwell, for whom, dead or alive, Parliament
offered one hundred pounds each. The fencing master made such a stir
about his skill that Goff, hearing of it at his place of concealment in
the woods of Hadley, came to Boston and confronted the wordy hero. His
sword was a birch broom, his shield a white oak cheese slung from his
arm in a napkin. After he had soaked his broom in a mud-puddle he
mounted the platform for battle. The fencing master ordered him off, but
Goff stood his ground and neatly parried the first thrust of the
braggart. The battle then commenced in earnest, and the cheese three
times received the sword of the fencing master. Before it could be
withdrawn, Goff each time daubed the face of his antagonist with the
muddy broom, amid the huzzas of the crowd which had gathered from all
quarters to witness the contest. At the third lunge into the huge cheese
the swordsman threw aside his small blade, and, unsheathing a
broadsword, rushed furiously upon Goff.
"Stop, sir!" exclaimed Goff; "hitherto, you see, I have only played with
you, and have not attempted to hurt you, but if you come at me with the
broadsword, know that I will certainly take your life!"
"Who can you be?" replied the other; "you are either Goff, Whalley or
the devil, for there was no other man in England could beat me!"
Goff immediately retired, amid the plaudits of the crowd, and the
subdued fencing master slunk away with chagrin.
The interior arrangement of the Old State House has been entirely
remodeled, and is now used exclusively for business.
King's Chapel, at the corner of Tremont and School streets, is another
noteworthy point of interest. The corner-stone was laid in 1750, and
four years were occupied in its construction, the stone for the building
material being imported. Its church-yard was Boston's first
burial-ground, and some of the tombstones date back as far as 1658. Mr.
Isaac Johnson, one of the founders of Boston, is said to have here found
his last resting place. John Winthrop, his son and grandson--all
governors of Connecticut, lay in the same family tomb in this yard. Four
pastors of the "First Church of Christ in Boston" are also buried here.
The body of General Joseph Warren was placed in King's Chapel before it
was re-interred at Cambridge, and "dust to dust" has been pronounced
over many other distinguished men at this stone church. The edifice is
constructed in a peculiar way, with Doric columns of gray stone, and is
sure to attract the attention of the stranger. It was the first
Episcopal, as well as the first Unitarian church in Boston, and its
pulpit is now the exponent of Unitarian doctrine, added to the Church of
England service.
Going down Washington street towards Charlestown, we come to the famous
Brattle Square, and its church, which once consecrated the spot. Here
Edward Everett preached to his listening flock, and here, on July
thirtieth, 1871, Dr. S. K. Lothrop pronounced the last sermon within its
walls. Its ancient bell has ceased to ring, and the old-fashioned pulpit
echoes no more to the tread of distinguished men.
The first Brattle Square Church was built in 1699. It was torn down in
1772, and the next year rebuilt on the same site, the dedication taking
place July twenty-fifth.
On the night of March sixteenth, 1776, the British under Lord Howe were
encamped in this neighborhood, some of the regiments using Brattle
Square Church as a barrack. A cannon ball, fired from Cambridge, where
the American army was then stationed, struck the church, and was
afterwards built into the wall of the historic edifice, above the porch.
On the next night ten thousand of Lord Howe's troops embarked from
Boston. In 1871 the building was sold by the society, and a handsome
granite block now takes its place.
The new State House on Beacon street is one of the most prominent
geographical points in all Boston, and the view from its cupola is
second only to that obtained from the glorious height of Bunker Hill
monument. Its gilded dome is a conspicuous object far and near, and
glitters in the sunlight like veritable gold. The land on which the
State House stands was bought by the town from Governor Hancock's heirs,
and given to the State. The corner-stone was laid July fourth, 1793, the
ceremony being conducted by the Freemasons, Paul Revere, as Grand
Master, at their head. The massive stone was drawn to its place by
fifteen white horses, that being the number then of the States in the
Union. Ex-Governor Samuel Adams delivered the address. The Legislature
first convened in the new State House in January, 1798. In 1852 it was
greatly enlarged, and in 1867 the interior was entirely remodeled.
Chantry's statue of Washington, the statues of Webster and Mann, busts
of Adams, Lincoln and Sumner, and that beautiful piece of art in marble,
the full-length statue of Governor Andrew, in the Doric Hall--all
attract the attention of the visitor. In this rotunda there are also
copies of the tombstones of the Washington family of Brington Parish,
England, presented by Charles Sumner, and the torn and soiled
battle-flags of Massachusetts regiments, hanging in glass cases. In the
Hall of Representatives and the Senate Chamber, relics of the past are
scattered about, and the walls are adorned with portraits of
distinguished men. The eastern wing of the State House is occupied with
the State Library Large numbers of visitors yearly throng the building
and climb the circular stairways for the fine view of Boston to be
obtained from the cupola.
The new Post Office is accounted one of the finest public buildings in
New England. It has a frontage on Devonshire street, of over two hundred
feet and occupies the entire square between Milk and Water streets. It
was several years in building, being occupied this winter for the first
time since the great fire. Its cost was something like three millions of
dollars. Its style of architecture is grand in the extreme. Groups of
statuary ornament the central projections of the building, and orders of
pilasters, columns, entablatures and balustrades add to it their elegant
finish. Its roof is an elaboration of the Louvre and Mansard styles, and
the interior arrangement cannot be surpassed for beauty or convenience.
It has three street facades, from one of which a broad staircase leads
to the four upper stories. On these floors are located important public
offices. The Post Office corridor is twelve feet in height and extends
across two sides of the immense building. At the time of the great fire
of 1872 this structure was receiving its roof, and became a barrier
against the onward sweep of the flames. The massive granite walls were
cracked and split, but they effectually stopped the work of the fire
fiend.
In the heart of the city, at the corner of Milk and Washington streets,
stands one of the most famous buildings in Boston, and perhaps the most
celebrated house of religious worship in the United States. It was
founded in 1669, and received the name of the Old South Church. The
first building was made of cedar, and stood for sixty years. In 1729 it
was taken down, and the present building erected on the same spot. The
interior arrangement is described as having been exceedingly quaint,
with its pulpit sounding board, its high, square pews, and double tier
of galleries. During the Revolution it was frequently used for public
meetings, and Faneuil Hall assemblies adjourned to the Old South
whenever the size of the crowd demanded it. Here the celebrated "Tea
Party" held their meetings, and discussed the measures which resulted in
consigning the British tea, together with the hated tax, to the bottom
of Boston Harbor. Here Joseph Warren delivered his famous oration on the
Boston Massacre, drawing tears from the eyes of even the British
soldiery, sent there to intimidate him. In 1775 the edifice was occupied
by the British as a place for cavalry drill, and a grog-shop was
established in one of the galleries. In 1782 the building was put in
repair, and has stood without further change until the present time,
nearly a hundred years. In 1872 it was occupied as a Post Office, and
has only been vacated this winter. Its day of religious service is
doubtless over. It will probably be used for business purposes, but
never again as a society sanctuary.
Opposite the south front of the Old South Church, on Milk street, stood
the house in which Benjamin Franklin was born. Here, on the seventeenth
of January, 1706, the great philosopher was ushered into existence, and
on the same day was christened at the Old South. When he was ten years
old, he worked with his father in a candle manufactory, on the corner of
Union and Hanover streets, at the sign of the Blue Bell. He was
afterwards printer's devil for his brother James, and at eighteen
established the fourth newspaper printed in this country. It was
entitled "The New England Courant."
The first newspaper of Boston was also the first in the colonies, and
was printed on a half sheet of Pot paper, in small pica. It was entitled
"The Boston News Letter. Published, by authority, from Monday, April
seventeenth, to Monday, April twenty-fourth, 1704." John Campbell, a
Scotchman and bookseller, was proprietor.
Now the Boston press stands in the front rank of the world's journalism,
and is commodiously accommodated; as the elegant buildings of the
_Transcript_, _Globe_, _Journal_, _Herald_ and other papers, testify.
The _Advertiser_ is the oldest daily paper in the city.
It is impossible to properly describe Boston within the limits of so
short a chapter, and only a glance at a few other points of interest
will therefore be given.
The City Hall, on School street, is on the site of the house of Isaac
Johnson, who lived here in 1630, and who has been styled the founder of
Boston. The corner-stone of the new building was laid December
twenty-second, 1672. It is of Concord granite, and is in the finest
style of modern architecture. Here, under the arching roof of the French
dome, the fire-alarm telegraph centres, and the sentinel who stands
guard at this important point never leaves his post, night or day. The
mysterious signal, though touched in the city's remotest rim, is
instantly obeyed, and in less time than it takes to tell it the brave
firemen are rushing to the rescue. A fine bronze statue of Benjamin
Franklin stands in the inclosure in front of the building.
The Custom House, on State street, is built of granite, even to the
roof. It is constructed in the form of a Greek cross, and is surrounded
by thirty-two granite columns, a little over five feet in diameter. The
site was reclaimed from the tide waters, and the massive building rests
upon about three thousand piles. Over a million dollars were expended in
its erection.
The Old Granary Burying-ground, once a part of the Common, received its
name from a public granary which formerly stood within its limits. Some
of the most distinguished dust in history is consigned to its keeping.
Paul Revere, Peter Faneuil, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, the victims of
the Boston Massacre, the parents of Franklin, the first Mayor of Boston,
and a long list of other names famed in their day and ours, lie buried
within this ancient ground. Near by, between the Common and the Granary
Cemetery, stands the celebrated Park Street Church, of which W. H. H.
Murray, the brilliant writer and preacher, was, until lately, the
pastor. It used to be known as "brimstone corner." This winter we
attended Park Street Church on the same day with the _brunette_ monarch,
Kalakaua and suite.
One of the most commodious and elegant stations in New England, or this
country, is that of the Boston and Providence Railroad. It is about
eight hundred feet in length, and is built of brick, with two shades of
sandstone. The track house is seven hundred feet long, covering five
tracks, and has a span of one hundred and twenty-five feet. Its cost is
somewhere in the neighborhood of six hundred thousand dollars. The
interior arrangement is quite novel in style. The waiting-rooms open out
of an immense central apartment with a balcony reaching around the
entire inner circumference. Theatre tickets, flower and cigar stands, a
billiard room and a barber shop, are some of the special features of the
station. Refreshment rooms and dressing rooms, in oak and crimson, are
also an integral part of the building.
Hundreds of interesting places in this singular and devious city of
Boston must go unnoticed in these pages. The beautiful Tremont Temple
and its Sunday temperance lectures; Music Hall, with its big organ of
six thousand pipes, through one of which Henry Ward Beecher is said to
have crawled, before its erection; the Parker House, one of the crack
hotels of the city; the Revere House, where all the distinguished people
stop, with its special suite of rooms upholstered in blue satin, where
King Kalakaua smoked his cigars in peace; the beneficent Public Library;
the Boston AthenA|um, home of art; the Boston Theatre, the new and
elegant Globe Theatre, and the suburban limits, including Charlestown
and famous Bunker Hill, Cambridge and Harvard University, Mt. Auburn,
Dorchester Heights, Roxbury and East Boston, which was formerly known as
Noddle's Island, and where now the Cunard line of steamers arrive and
depart--all these tempt my pen to linger within their charmed
localities. But it is a temptation to be resisted. When, after many
weeks' sojourn in the intellectual "Hub," I was at last seated in the
outward bound train, ticketed for the west, a regret, born of pleasant
associations and a taste of Boston atmosphere, took possession of me.
The farewells I uttered held an undertone of pain. But the train sped
onward, unheeding, and the city of the harbor seemed to dissolve and
disappear in the smoke of her thousand chimneys, like a dream of the
night.