Web
and Book
design, Copyright, Kellscraft Studio 1999-2006 (Return to Web Text-ures) |
Click
Here to return to History of the Great Fire of Boston Content Page |
(HOME) |
HISTORY OF THE
GREAT FIRE. CHAPTER I. AN HISTORICAL
SKETCH OF BOSTON. BOSTON, in 1629, had one inhabitant. He, however, called it “Shawmut,” as did the Indians who occasionally hunted partridges through its underbrush and glades, and built their camp-fires beside the ledges of its three hills (tri-mountain). Rev. William Blaxton was the first settler, and, as near as we can ascertain by the records, the only one who made any permanent stay on the peninsula previous to the advent of the Massachusetts colonists. He was a strange man, with considerable skill as an agriculturist, and entertaining a queer notion, that any neighbor nearer than Charlestown would be crowding him. For seven years he held the whole peninsula, and cultivated a portion of it near the bay; and appears to have had a grant of the entire tract from the King of England, although we can judge of that only by the fact that subsequent settlers purchased the land of him without questioning his title. In the
spring of
1680, a large company of emigrants belonging to the Massachusetts
colony, which
was an incorporated body under the laws of England, landed in Salem
under the
guidance of Gov. Winthrop. In July they settled in Charlestown, then
called “Mishawum.”
But there was no pure water to be found in the vicinity of Mishawum
except one
spring, which was below tide-water. So many were sick, that sufficient
help
could not be found to care for them; and in that condition some died
unattended. A gloomy state of affairs indeed, and such a one as would
move the
sympathies of anybody. Mr. Blaxton heard of their sufferings, and very
generously sacrificed his desire to be alone in order to comfort them;
and
invited them over to Shawmut, where were beautiful springs, and one
especially
that was a marvel of crystal beauty. This celebrated spring, which was
the real
cause of the removal of the colony from Charlestown to Boston, flowed
on for a
hundred years after, giving health and strength to all who came for its
unceasing
waters. On the 17th of September, 1630, after “resolving” in the court
of
governor and council (Sept. 7) to call the settlement “Boston,” the
colony was
ferried across, and pitched its tents and erected its rude barracks
about the
coveted spring. Mr.
Blaxton was
annoyed by the contiguity of other families, and moved away into a
place now
known as Blackstone in Rhode Island. Before going, however, he sold all
his
land to the colony. The houses of the governor, John Winthrop, the
deputy-governor, Thomas Dudley, and the secretary, Simon Brodestreet,
were
built near the spring, being one-story structures with thatched roofs. They were
a wise
company, and genuine heroes: but they were not far-sighted enough to
provide
for the great city which was to follow; and they constructed their
roads with a
view only to the cost, and avoided with short turns all the knolls,
bowlders,
and hollows. What was five minutes of walking then, compared with the
immense
labor of making straight highways? The first
street was
doubtless located where Washington and Union Streets now are; and, as
more than
fifteen hundred persons came into the colony during the first year,
that
highway and Tri-mount (Tremont) Street, laid out soon after, must have
been
populous avenues very early in the history of the colony. The town grew
surprisingly fast in view of its rough surface, shallow soil, and the
strict
laws, one of which was a public whipping for being caught kissing a
woman. There were
added to
its numbers, by immigration, about fifteen hundred persons each year
during the
earliest period of its life. The land was divided into pastures and
gardens by
rough fences, with lanes leading to them from the principal highways.
The water
from the principal spring, as it ran down toward the harbor, kept moist
a very
troublesome marsh (where Milk Street is now laid), which was the
boundary of
several pastures. The hill
afterwards
known as “Fort Hill” was steep and jagged on the north and east side,
with an
easy slope on the south and west. It was a famous place for Indian
corn; and
its crops were the pride of the whole people. James Penn was the owner
for many
years, and kept his corn-fields in a good state of cultivation,
notwithstanding
the fact that the town took a small space on the top in 1632 for a
fort, and
kept it ever after ready for an attack. In 1643, Widow Anne Tuthill,
the
enterprising wife of an energetic miller, moved her windmill from
Newton,
“where there was no wind,” to some point on Fort Hill; and entered into
competition with like establishments at Copp’s Hill, now known as the
“North
End.” The cows
were
brought from England, and a variety of fruit-trees and vegetables,
which, with
some at Plymouth, were the nucleus of the widespread orchards of
America. There
were occasional dangers from the failure to procure food; and many
moved to
Newton to escape the threatened famines. But a trade was started with
the
Indians of Cape Cod through the assistance of the Plymouth colony; and
thus the
calamity was averted. How they
built their
houses on the lanes, how they were governed, how they married or
conducted
their funerals, how they grew in numbers and importance, and the long
series of
causes which led to the war of the Revolution, can best be read in
volumes
devoted exclusively to those topics. It is the writer’s more especial
work to
make reference to such historic localities as were included in or
connected
with the “burned district.” The first
church-edifice erected in Boston was located on the road now called
State
Street, on the south side, near the building so long known as “Brazer’s
Block.”
It was a one-story, thatched-roof structure, with rude benches, and a
more rude
pulpit, made rough from necessity, and “to contrast with the
extravagant Saint
Bartolph’s Cathedral in old Boston, England,” from which the builders
came.
This awkward church was built in August, 1632; the regular services
having been
held in private houses or under the trees before that time, with the
Rev. John
Wilson acting as pastor. In 1640, when the first building was
destroyed, the
congregation relaxed a little in their belief in the efficacy of rough
boards
as a purifier of the soul, and built a much better house on the present
site of
Joy’s Building, on Washington Street. This was burned in 1711, and
replaced by
a brick church structure, which was taken down in 1808. Sept. 30,
1648, the
Second Church was organized, and a house of worship constructed at the
North
End, on North Square. It was torn to pieces by the soldiers in 1775,
and the
members united with Dr. Lathrop’s church in Hanover Street. In July,
1669,
seceders from the First Church erected the Old South on its present
site; which
was formerly a portion of Gov. Winthrop’s estate. In 1729 it was taken
down,
and the present brick edifice reared on the same foundation. Since that
time,
it has been most intimately connected with American history; and there
has
clustered about it a store of reminiscences dear to every true American
heart.
There powerful sermons against oppression were delivered; there Warren
nerved
the hearts of his hearers for a first rebellion; there the patriots
held public
and secret meetings; there, it is said, the plot for the destruction of
the tea
was formed; and from its doors sallied the disguised freemen who
destroyed that
cargo. The first election-sermon was preached there in 1712; and that
precedent
was followed for a hundred and sixty years. Earthquakes, fires, storms,
lightning, and human marauders, spared it; and even the British
soldiery, who
made bunks of the seats, bar-rooms of the galleries, and dance-halls of
the
aisles, did not deface its exterior: yet trade, that leveller of
“sacred
hills,” is less considerate; and the venerable pile must fall. In 1689,
King’s
Chapel, at the corner of School and Tremont Streets, was built, and
rebuilt in
1713. It was again rebuilt in 1754. In July,
1715, a
company met at the Bull Tavern, in Summer Street, and organized a
church, to be
called the “New South.” In September of that same year, they applied
for leave
to erect a church on the spot now known as the “End Lot,” at the
junction of
Summer and Bedford Streets. The house was originally built of wood, but
was
rebuilt with Chelmsford granite in 1814, and “stood the test of time”
until
four years ago, when it was removed to give place to those elegant
palaces of
trade, built in 1868, of which we all were proud. Trinity
Church, in
Summer Street, situated on the north side, near Washington Street, was
erected
of wood in 1734, and was the third Episcopal church built in the city.
Christ’s
Church had become so crowded, that another church was necessary; and,
accordingly, the Summer-street lot, then in the most aristocratic
portion of
Boston, was selected as its site. In 1828 it was taken down, and built
of
Quincy granite, in the massive Gothic style, — so like the eloquence
and
thought of him who last occupied its pulpit. It had seats for twelve
hundred
persons. The interior wood-work was painted in imitation of oak, and
the
ceilings were artistically frescoed. Burial tablets, of costly design,
also
adorned the walls; and underneath the church was a burial-place
containing
fifty-five tombs, one of which was used for the interment of strangers.
There have
been
eleven rectors of the church, whose settlements may be enumerated as
follows: Rev.
Addington Davenport, settled 1740; died 1746. Rev. William Hooper,
1747; died
1767. Rev. William Walter, D.D., 1767; left 1775. Rev. Samuel Parker,
D.D.,
1775; died 1804. Rev. John S. C. Gardiner, assistant 1792; rector 1805;
died
1830. Rev. George W. Doane, D.D., assistant 1828; rector 1830; left
1833. Rev.
John H. Hopkins, D.D., assistant 1831; left 1832. Rev. Jonathan M.
Wainwright,
D.D., 1833; left 1837. Rev. John L. Watson, assistant 1836; left 1846.
Rt. Rev.
Manton Eastburn, D.D., bishop of the diocese 1842; died 1872. Rev. John
Cotton
Smith, assistant. Rev. Phillips Brooks, present rector, settled 1869.
The
corner-stone of the first edifice was laid by the Rev. Mr. Price, of
King’s
Chapel; who also preached the first sermon in the church, Aug. 15,
1735. In the
year 1836 a
free Episcopal church was established in Common Street, and soon became
so
crowded, that in 1845 a larger and more substantial house was erected
in
Purchase Street for the congregation. Hon. William Appleton gave
twenty-seven
thousand dollars, and Edward Tuckerman bequeathed five thousand
dollars, toward
the same object; and thus was established a beautiful, substantial
church, and
thus did great men send the gospel to the poor. The Rev. E. M. P. Wells
was the
last rector who officiated regularly within its walls. On Sunday,
Jan. 17,
1706, Benjamin Franklin was born in a two-story, thatched-roof
building,
covered on the front with rough clapboards, and on the sides with rude
shingles, and which occupied a piece of ground about twenty by thirty
feet.
This queer dwelling, having but one room on the ground-floor, was
situated on
Milk Street, near the corner of Washington Street, and opposite the Old
South
Church. Benjamin’s father soon after moved to the Blue Ball, at the
North End; but
the old house, having undergone various changes, stood until 1810, when
it was
destroyed by fire. Afterwards a large granite building was built on the
same
ground; and the wealthiest merchants of the country bought and sold
merchandise
on the much-honored spot. After
a portion of
Fort Hill was purchased of Mr. Penn for a fort, it became a kind of
public
resort for evening and holiday promenaders; and after some years the
corn-fields gave place to the dwellings of the wealthier people of
Boston who
could “afford to live so far in the country.” While
the vicinity of Federal,
Pearl, and Devonshire Streets, was still a cow-pasture, elegant houses
were
occupied on the slopes of Fort Hill; and Summer Street was its natural
avenue
of approach. By an ancient map of the town, made in 1728, we find that
the land
was still much used for farming-purposes between Milk Street and Essex
Street,
and doubtless continued so for a great many years. At the date
mentioned, the
principal streets were laid out as they now run. The names of some of
them
sound a little ludicrous in the ears of the modern Bostonian. High
Street was
called “Cow Lane;” Batterymarch Street,
“Crab Lane;” Exchange Street went by
the title of “Pudding Alley,” and sometimes
“Pudding Lane;” and the streets
connecting State Street (then called King Street) with Dock Square were
named
“Crooked Lane,” “Shrimpton
Lane,” “Perkins Alley,” and
“Merchants’ Row.”
Portland Street was called “Cold Lane;” Boylston
Street was known by the nomen,
“Frog Lane;” while fourteen of the streets now in
use were called lanes. It was as
late as
1800 when Fort Hill began to be very extensively occupied by private
dwellings.
Who were the pioneers in the movement is not positively known. It is
certain,
however, that the Hon. Andrew Oliver, stamp-officer, whose house was
attacked
by the Stamp-Act rioters of 1765, and who was compelled to come in the
rain to
the Liberty-Tree, at the corner of Essex and Washington (now) Streets,
and
publicly resign his office, lived on one side of that hill; and he was
one of
the most wealthy citizens. In 1830 it
was a
“very princely quarter,” according to a weekly paper of that period;
and the
transformation of the decayed old fort into a public park (Washington
Square),
and the establishment of public buildings there, doubtless much
increased its
popularity. Within a
score of
years, the place changed much; and all the princely families moved away
to
Beacon Street, the Back Bay, or the South End, leaving their mansions
to be
occupied, room by room, by the poorest of Boston’s population. In 1865
the city
voted to cut away the hill, and proposed to use it for filling up the
Church‘
street district, Atlantic Avenue, and other places; and in 1869
appropriated a
million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for that purpose. It was
at once
cut down to the grade of the surrounding streets; and its removal left
a large
unoccupied space to be filled with business-houses. Summer
Street
continued to be a dwelling-place for wealthy “old residents” until as
late as
1858. Daniel Webster, for many years, had his home on the corner of
High and
Summer Streets; and the dwelling only five years ago gave up its claims
to a
granite building of very extensive proportions. In a house two doors
west of
Otis Street resided the great orator, Edward Everett, during the last
years of
his life; and it is only very recently that the dwelling was superseded
by
stores. In Hawley
Street,
in the year 1808, a mineral spring owned by Mr. Hall obtained great
celebrity
on account of its medicinal qualities, but suddenly became unpopular,
and was
abandoned. Arch Street and Winthrop Square were long noted for their
fine
gardens; and the business-blocks there, as on Franklin Street, were all
nearly
new at the time of the great fire. Previous to the grand
business-palaces of
Franklin Street, there was a double row of brick dwelling-houses,
called
Franklin Place, and, previous to the dwelling-houses, a boggy marsh
running
down through Mr. Charles Bulfinch’s garden. The Quaker
meeting-house erected on Congress Street (then called Leverett’s Lane),
at the
head of Lindall Street, in 1709, near which was the “old Quaker
burying-ground,” and to which the society removed from Brattle Square,
was
standing in 1828, when the yearly meeting of Friends conveyed it by
deed to Dr.
Edward H. Robbins. It was afterwards occupied by “The Boston Daily
Evening
Transcript; “and in 1860, on the removal of that popular paper to
Washington
Street, Messrs. J. E. Farwell & Co. leased the chambers for their
large printing-establishment.
The burying-ground, which of course has been wholly removed, was the
fourth in
point of antiquity in the town, — the King’s-Chapel graveyard in
Tremont Street
being the first, Copp’s-Hill burying-place the second, the Granary
burial-yard,
near Park-street Church, the third. Of these
historic
localities, the recent great fire swept over the birthplace of
Franklin, about
the old South Church, Gov. Winthrop’s homestead, and the Quaker
meeting-house.
It piled ruins around Fort Hill, and over the foundations of Webster’s
and
Everett’s homes. It demolished Trinity and St. Stephen’s churches. It
levelled
the stores on the site of the New South Church, and it boiled about the
mineral
springs; and the crystal fountain which called the Massachusetts colony
from
Charlestown was only protected by the new United States
treasury-building. So
great had been the growth of the city, that a half-century had seen
that whole
region covered with substantial brick and granite One day served to
destroy it. |