Last week for the first time I visited the granite obelisk known all
over the civilized world as Bunker Hill monument. Sixty years ago, if my
memory serves me correctly, General La Fayette, since deceased, laid the
corner-stone, and Daniel Webster made a few desultory remarks which I
cannot now recall. Eighteen years later it was formally dedicated, and
Daniel spoke a good piece, composed mostly of things that he had thought
up himself. There has never been a feature of the early history
and unceasing struggle for American freedom which has so roused my
admiration as this custom, quite prevalent among congressmen in those
days, of writing their own speeches.
Many of Webster's most powerful speeches were written by himself or at
his suggestion. He was a plain, unassuming man, and did not feel
above writing his speeches. I have always had the greatest respect
and admiration for Mr. Webster as a citizen, as a scholar and as an
extemporaneous speaker, and had he not allowed his portrait to appear
last year in the Century, wearing an air of intense gloom and a plug hat
entirely out of style, my respect and admiration would have continued
indefinitely.
Bunker Hill monument is a great success as a monument, and the view from
its summit is said to be well worth the price of admission. I did not
ascend the obelisk, because the inner staircase was closed to visitors
on the day of my visit and the lightning rod on the outside looked to me
as though it had been recently oiled.
On the following day, however, I engaged a man to ascend the monument
and tell me his sensations. He assured me that they were first-rate. At
the feet of the spectator Boston and its environments are spread out in
the glad sunshine. Every day Boston spreads out her environments just
that way.
Bunker Hill monument is 221 feet in height, and has been entirely paid
for. The spectator may look at the monument with perfect impunity,
without being solicited to buy some of its mortgage bonds. This adds
much to the genuine thrill of pleasure while gazing at it.
There is a Bunker Hill in Macoupin County, Illinois, also in Ingham
County, Michigan, and in Russell County, Kansas, but General Warren was
not killed at either of these points.
One hundred and ten years ago, on the 17th day of the present month, one
of America's most noted battles with the British was fought near where
Bunker Hill monument now stands. In that battle the British lost 1,050
in killed and wounded, while the American loss numbered but 450. While
the people of this country are showing such an interest in our war
history, I am surprised that something has not been said about Bunker
Hill. The Federal forces from Roxbury to Cambridge were under command
of General Artemus Ward, the great American humorist. When the American
humorist really puts on his war paint and sounds the tocsin, he can
organize a great deal of mourning.
General Ward was assisted by Putnam, Starke, Prescott, Gridley and
Pomeroy. Colonel William Prescott was sent over from Cambridge to
Charlestown for the purpose of fortifying Bunker Hill. At a council of
war it was decided to fortify Breeds Hill, not so high but nearer to
Boston than Bunker Hill. So a redoubt was thrown up during the night on
the ground where the monument now stands.
The British landed a large force under Generals Howe and Pigot, and at
2 p. m. the Americans were reinforced by Generals Warren and Pomeroy.
General Warren was of a literary turn of mind and during the battle took
his hat off and recited a little poem beginning:
“Stand, the ground's your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?”
A man who could deliver an impromptu and extemporaneous address like
that in public, and while there was such a bitter feeling of hostility
on the part of the audience, must have been a good scholar. In our great
fratricidal strife twenty years ago, the inferiority of our generals in
this respect was painfully noticeable. We did not have a commander who
could address his troops in rhyme to save his neck. Several of them were
pretty good in blank verse, but it was so blank that it was not just the
thing to fork over to posterity and speak in school afterward.
Colonel Prescott's statue now stands where he is supposed to have stood
when he told his men to reserve their fire till they saw the whites
of the enemy's eyes. Those who have examined the cast-iron flint-lock
weapons used in those days will admit that this order was wise. Those
guns were injurious to health, of course, when used to excess, but not
necessarily or immediately fatal.
At the time of the third attack by the British, the Americans were out
of ammunition, but they met the enemy with clubbed muskets, and it was
found that one end of the rebel flintlock was about as fatal as the
other, if not more so.
Boston still meets the invader with its club. The mayor says to the
citizens of Boston: "Wait till you can see the whites of the visitor's
eyes, and then go for him with your clubs." Then the visitor surrenders.
I hope that many years may pass before it will again be necessary for us
to soak this fair land in British blood. The boundaries of our land are
now more extended, and so it would take more blood to soak it.
Boston has just reason to be proud of Bunker Hill, and it was certainly
a great stroke of enterprise to have the battle located there.
Bunker Hill is dear to every American heart, and there are none of us
who would not have cheerfully gone into the battle then if we had known
about it in time.