The approach to Boston, either by sea or land, gives to it an extremely
bold and picturesque character. It is spread over a series of lofty
heights, nearly insulated, and is surrounded by a marshy level running
from the highlands on the main, to which the city is united by a very
narrow isthmus to the southward.
The lofty dome of its State-house, and the numerous spires and towers of
its churches, rising between two and three hundred feet above the
surrounding level of either land or sea, combine to produce a _coup
d'oeil_ more imposing than is presented by either New York or
Philadelphia.
The streets of the city generally are narrow and irregular, following
the windings of the lofty hills over which it is spread, and having more
the air of an old English county-town than any place I have yet seen in
the country.
Its wharfs are spacious and well constructed, and it is not without
surprise that one views the evidently rapid growth of these best
evidences of prosperous commerce. I observed in my walks lines of
substantial granite-built warehouses and quays, newly redeemed from the
water: all were in occupation; tiers of vessels of every kind thronged
them; and the inner harbour was thick with masts.
The most modern quarter of the city lies to the west, surrounding the
park, or common, as it is termed,--an ancient reserve of some sixty
acres, the property of the citizens, beautifully situated and tastefully
laid out. It is bordered on the lower side by a mall of
venerable-looking elms; has a pretty pond of water under a rising ground
near its centre, the remains of an English fort; and open to the front
is the Charles River.
On three sides, this common is flanked by very fine streets, having
houses of the largest class, well built, and kept with a right English
spirit as far as regards the scrupulous cleanliness of the entrances,
areas, and windows. The English are a window-cleaning race, and nowhere
have I observed this habit so closely inherited as here. Overlooking
this common, too, is the State-house; and, on a line with it, the
mansion of its patriot founder, Mr. Hancock, a venerable stone-built
edifice, raised upon a terrace withdrawn a few yards from the line of
the present street. The generous character of its first owner has made
this house an object of great interest, and it is to be hoped the
citizens will look carefully to its preservation as a worthy fellow to
Fanieul Hall, for by no one was the "cradle of Liberty"[3] more
carefully tended than by the owner of "Hancock House."
Here, as in the other great cities of the Union, upon a close survey, I
found the prevailing impression on my mind to be surprise at the
apparent rapidity of increase made manifest in the great number of
buildings either just completed or in progress. If the possession of
inexhaustible supplies of the finest granite, marble, and all other
material, be accompanied with taste and spirit in their use, the future
buildings of this city will have an air of grandeur and stability
superior to those of any other in the States.
To reach the surrounding country in any direction from the peninsula
the city occupies, one of its great bridges must be crossed. Of these
there are six, besides the Western Avenue as it is called, a dam of vast
extent; and they form the peculiarities of this place, to a stranger,
most curious, and, in truth, most pleasing. By day, they form agreeable
walks or rides, offering a variety of charming views; and, if crossed on
a dark night, when their interminable lines of lamps are beheld
radiating, as it were, from one centre, and multiplied by reflection on
the surrounding waters, the effect is perfectly magical. The stars show
dimly in comparison: and casting your eyes downward, it appears as
though you beheld another and a brighter sky glittering beneath your
feet.
The great dam rises about five feet above the tide, is provided with
enormous flood-gates, and in length is something over a mile and a half.
The length of the other bridges varies from two thousand five hundred to
one thousand four hundred feet.
Crossing at any one of these points, you gain the open heights upon the
main. Here you are first struck by the aspect of the soil, everywhere
having huge masses of dark rock protruded above its surface. The
country is said to be poor: of this I cannot judge, but I know it to be
beautiful. It is everywhere undulating, and often broken in the wildest
and most tropical manner. Like the interior of Herefordshire, it is cut
up in all directions by rural lanes, bordered by stone walls and high
hedges, and dotted thickly with handsome houses, whose verandahs of
bright green, and whitened walls, show well amidst the luxuriant foliage
by which they are commonly surrounded.
About five miles from the city are a couple of delightful pieces of
water, called Jamaica and Fresh-ponds; each bordered by wood, lawn, and
meadow, naturally disposed in the most attractive manner. At the
last-named pond,--which sounds unworthily on my ear when applied to a
piece of water covering a surface of two hundred and fifty acres,--I
passed an afternoon during the period of my first visit here.
We sailed about, exploring every harbour of the little sea, caught our
fish for dinner, and by the hotel were furnished with a well-broiled
chicken and a good glass of champagne, with ice worthy of being
dissolved in such liquor. I fell premeditatedly in love with the place;
and D----, who was on the look-out for a location, and something hard
to please withal, had already selected a site for building: but, alas!
even Paradise, before the mission of St. Patrick, had serpents; and the
delightful copses and rich meadows of Fresh-pond are, it appears, the
haunts especially favoured by the incarnation of all Egyptian plagues,
musquitoes.
During the winter this is a great resort of the lovers of _bandy_ and
_skating_; and from this ample reservoir is taken that transparent ice
which gladdens the eyes and cools the throat of the dust-dried traveller
throughout this part of the State. Nor is its grateful service confined
to these limits; for cargoes of it are, during the spring, regularly
shipped to the Havannah, New Orleans, Mobile, &c.; and,--for where will
enterprise find limits?--this very season has a shipment of three
hundred tons of the congealed waters of this pond of Massachusetts been
consigned to Calcutta. Ice floating on the Ganges! How old Gunga will
shiver and shake his ears when the first crystal offering is dropped on
his hot bosom!
Wild as the idea may at first appear of keeping such a commodity for a
voyage of probably a hundred days in such latitudes, I am informed the
speculator is assured, that with an ordinary run, enough of his cargo
may be landed to pay a good freight.[4]
Near to this pond lies another favourite spot of mine, "Mount Auburn;" a
tract of woodland, bordering on Charles River, appropriated and
consecrated as a cemetery, on the plan of "Pere la Chaise," but having
natural attributes for such a purpose infinitely superior. It is covered
by a thick growth of the finest forest-trees, of singular variety; and
presents a surface, now gently undulating in hill and dale, now broken
into deep ravines, or towered over by bold rocky elevations; and,
intersecting the whole space from north to south, runs a natural
terrace, having a surface so well and evenly levelled that one almost
doubts its being other than the work of art.
It takes its name from a lofty eminence, which, rising high over the
surrounding level, commands as fine a view as any spot in the vicinity.
Winding and well-kept avenues intersect the ground in all directions,
giving it an appearance of much greater extent than it in reality
possesses, and rendering the most secluded spot easy of access to those
who desire to
"Choose their ground,
And take their rest."
The ostentatious mausoleum may be placed by a broad carriage avenue,
where its hollow walls will reverberate to every passing triumph of the
tomb; the quiet and the lowly can build their humbler dwelling in some
secluded nook, bordered by a narrow path the foot of affection alone
will seek to tread, and where no heavier sound will ever echo!
The perpetual right of sepulture may be purchased of the company whose
property the place is; and already a number of monuments, in marble and
granite, betoken the favour with which this place of "everlasting rest"
is viewed. Most of these monuments are of a simple, unassuming
character, and some of them gracefully appropriate.
A wooden fence encircles the cemetery, and a lofty gateway leads into
it, of Egyptian fashion, but of the like American material, which, it is
to be presumed, will speedily be superseded by suitable erections of
the fine dark granite found here in abundance.
This spot, if presided over by anything like taste, must become, in a
very few years, one of the places one might reasonably make a pilgrimage
to look upon; so lavish has Nature been in its adornment, and so
admirably are its accessories fitted to its present purpose.
Boston and its neighbourhood possess, in the eyes of a British subject,
a number of sites of singular historical interest.
On Hancock's Wharf that tea-party was held which cost Britain ten
millions of gold, and reft from the empire one quarter of the globe. The
lines of the American army at Cambridge are still to be readily traced
throughout their whole extent; the forts at the extremities, north and
south, are yet perfect in form as when designed by the engineer.
Across the peninsula, to the west of the isthmus, may be traced the
British lines and the broad deep fosse which, filled by the tide,
insulated the city these were projected to defend: their remains testify
to the care and labour bestowed upon their completion.
Bunker's Hill and the Breeds, where the first determined stand was made
against the British army, is commanded from the steeples and many
house-tops of the city.
If the defenders of these miserable lines knew that they were observed
by their kindred on this day, they took, at least, especial care that
the lookers-on should have no cause to blush for their lack of manhood.
Under cover of a hastily thrown-up breastwork, of which no trace
remains, did those hardy yeomen abide and repulse several assaults of a
regular and well-officered force; nor was it until their last charge of
ammunition was delivered that they turned from the defences their
courage alone had made good. The result proved how few charges of theirs
were flung away; these men knew the value of their ammunition, they were
excellent shots, and the word was constantly passed amongst them to
"take sure aim."
On Bunker's Hill a national monument is in progress, which, when
completed, will form an obelisk of fine granite, according to the
published plan, thirty feet square at the base, two hundred and twenty
feet high, and fifteen feet square at the summit. After considerable
progress had been made in this most durable memorial, the funds ran out
and the work stood still; however, the reproach of its remaining
unfinished is now likely to be speedily removed, for during this last
year, I believe, the necessary sum has been raised, and the national
monument of Massachusetts put _en train_ for completion.
Below this celebrated hill lies one of the most complete and extensive
navy-yards in the States. At the period of my visit its dry dock was
occupied by a pet ship of the American navy, "the Constitution," or, as
this fine frigate is familiarly called, "Old Ironsides." She was
stripped down to her kelson outside and in, for the purpose of
undergoing a repair that will make her, to all intents, a new ship.
She is what would now be called a small frigate, but one of the
prettiest models possible as high as the bends; above, she tumbles in a
little too much to please the eye. Nor did her gun-deck appear to me
particularly roomy for her burthen.
She was logged nearly eleven feet during the whole of the period she was
last afloat, yet is said to have sailed faster than anything she met;
this defect the builders have now remedied, and expect that, on a
straight keel, she will prove the fastest ship afloat.
I also went on board a seventy-four, employed as a receiving ship; "a
whapper! of her size," low between decks, but with a floor like a barn,
and the greatest beam I ever saw in a two-decker. Here were also on the
stocks a three and a two decker, both to be rated as seventy-fours; the
latter a model of beauty.
From the roof of the house covering this ship I enjoyed the finest
panoramic view imaginable. Boston, its long bridges, and the great dam
connecting the blue hills of the main with the peninsulas of Boston, and
that on which the populous village of Charleston stands, all lay beneath
the eye on the land side; whilst looking seaward, the inner and outer
harbours, together with their numerous islands, stretched away far
beyond the ken; and, were these islands only wooded, no harbour in the
world would excel this in beauty: at present, though grand, from its
great extent it looks bleak and naked, so completely have the islands
and the surrounding heights been denuded of wood.
I like this view better than either the one from the dome of the
State-house or that from the summit of Mount Auburn: a few glances from
this point affords one a good practical notion both of the city and the
populous environs, which may be said to form a part of it, besides being
in itself a varied and beautiful picture, viewed, as I first saw it, on
the afternoon of a calm clear day.