Across the Charles River, northward from the Shawmut peninsula of
Boston, is Charlestown, one of the earliest settled suburbs, a large
part of the river front being occupied by the Navy Yard, which covers
a surface approximating a hundred acres. Here were built many famous
vessels of the older navy, anterior to the change to steel
construction, and the first Government dry-dock in the country was
placed at this yard, which after the war of 1812 became one of the
leading naval stations. Among the historical features of the yard has
been the famous ship "Constitution," familiarly known as "Old
Ironsides," which is again to be rebuilt for preservation. This noted
ship, with others that achieved renown in the war of 1812, was kept at
Charlestown, and all of them having rotted, the Navy Department in
1830 decided to destroy them so as to save further trouble, and an
article announcing this appeared in a Boston newspaper. Little did the
naval authorities, however, appreciate the sentimental love the
country had for the old "Constitution." Two days after the newspaper
announcement, Oliver Wendell Holmes, then twenty-one years of age,
published his poem of "Old Ironsides," which caused such a sensation.
"Aye, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle's shout,
And burst the cannon's roar;--
The meteor of the ocean's air
Shall sweep the land no more.
"Her deck--once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,
And waves were white below--
No more shall feel the victor's tread,
Or know the conquered knee;--
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!
"O, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave:
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail;
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!"
These stirring lines of earnest protest touched the popular heart,
there was an universal outburst of indignation, and the "Constitution"
was saved. The old ship was rebuilt on her original lines, only a few
timbers, including the keel, being retained, and the former
allegorical figure-head was replaced by one modelled in the image of
Andrew Jackson, then President of the United States. This change was
sanctioned by the Secretary of the Navy, although Commodore Hull, who
had charge of rebuilding the ship, protested against it. The
reconstructed "Constitution" was launched in 1834, and anchored, with
her figure-head, but a short distance from Charlestown bridge.
Politics ran high at the time, and the change caused great
controversy, particularly in and around Boston. One stormy night,
Captain Samuel W. Dewey, then a hardy young sailor, managed without
discovery to saw off Jackson's head, and carried it away. When the
mutilation was disclosed next day there was another great clamor, and
so intense was the excitement that the utmost exertions were vainly
made to find the man who did the daring deed. Dewey kept his secret
for several weeks, but suddenly, under an unexplainable impulse,
decided he would go to Washington and give the sawed-off head to
President Jackson himself. He appeared before the Secretary of the
Navy, and stating that he was the man who had removed the figure-head
from the "Constitution," said he had brought it along to restore it,
exhibiting the grim features tied up in a bandana handkerchief. The
Secretary was indignant, and spoke of having him arrested, but Dewey
said there was no statute that he had violated, and the Secretary,
calming down finally, listened to the man's story of how he took away
the head, and agreed to take it to President Jackson. He took the
mutilated head over to the White House, exhibited it to Jackson, and
repeated to him Dewey's story. When Jackson had heard the tale he
burst out in loud laughter, and pointing at the head, said: "That is
the most infernal graven image I ever saw. The fellow did perfectly
right; you've got him, you say; well, give him a kick and my
compliments, and tell him to saw it off again." Captain Dewey was
afterwards called the "figure-head man," and was given a public dinner
in Philadelphia on his return from Washington. He died at an advanced
age, in 1899.
The crowning glory of Charlestown is the Bunker Hill Monument, marking
the greatest historical event of Boston, the famous battle fought June
17, 1775, when the British stormed the Yankee redoubt on the hilltop
north of Charles River, which was then open country, but long ago
became surrounded by the buildings of the expanding city, excepting
the small space of the battlefield, now reserved for a park around the
monument. The granite shaft rises two hundred and twenty-one feet,
upon the highest part of the eminence. The Provincial troops had
assembled in large numbers north and west of Boston, mainly in
Cambridge to the westward, and hearing that the British intended to
occupy Bunker and Breed's Hills, in Charlestown, a force was sent
under Colonel William Prescott, a veteran of the old French war, in
the night, to fortify Bunker Hill. Upon crossing over, they hastily
decided that it was better to occupy Breed's Hill, which, while part
of the same ridge, was nearer Boston, and they constructed upon it a
square redoubt. The British ships in Charles River discovered this at
daylight, and began a cannonade; American reinforcements were sent
from Cambridge; and in the afternoon General Gage attacked, his
onslaught being three times repulsed with heavy slaughter, when, the
Americans' ammunition being spent, they could only resist with clubbed
muskets and stones, and had to retreat. Facing Boston, in front of the
monument, the direction from which the attack came, is the bronze
statue of Prescott, the broad-brimmed hat shading his earnest face,
as, with deprecatory yet determined gesture, he uttered the memorable
words of warning that resulted in such terrible punishment of the
British storming column: "Don't fire until I tell you; don't fire
until you see the whites of their eyes." The traces of the hastily
constructed breastworks of the redoubt can be seen on the brow of the
hill, and a stone shows where Dr. Joseph Warren fell, he being killed
in the battle. He came to the fight as a volunteer, and had been made
a General in the Provincial army. The top of the tall monument gives a
splendid view in all directions over the harbor and suburbs of Boston,
with traces of Mount Wachusett far to the westward, and on clear days
a dim outline of the distant White Mountains. The corner-stone of the
monument was laid by Lafayette on his American visit in 1825, and it
was completed and dedicated in 1842, the oration on both occasions
being delivered by Daniel Webster. One of his glowing passages thus
tells the purpose of the monument:
"We come as Americans to mark a spot which must forever be dear to us
and to our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming time,
shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not
undistinguished where the first great battle of the Revolution was
fought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and
importance of that event to every class and every age. We wish that
infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from eternal lips, and
that weary and withered age may behold it and be solaced by the
recollections which it suggests. We wish that labor may look up here
and be proud in the midst of its toil. We wish that in those days of
disaster which, as they come upon all nations, must be expected to
come upon us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward,
and be assured that the foundations of our national powers are still
strong."