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