USA > Massachusetts > Middlesex County > Old landmarks and historic fields of Middlesex > Part 8
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HISTORIC FIELDS AND MANSIONS OF MIDDLESEX.
for his services. He secured the quarry from which the granite was obtained, and appears among the list of contributors set down for a generous sum.
Edward Everett gave heart and voice to the work, as he afterwards did to the rescue of Mount Vernon from the hazard of becoming a prey to private speculation.
In taking our leave of an object so familiar to the citizens of Massachusetts, and which bears itself proudly up without a single sculptured line upon its face to tell of its purpose, we yet remember that its stony finger pointing to the heavens has a moral which lips by which all hearts were swayed - when shall we hear their like again ? - disclosed to us thirty years ago. " To-day it speaks to us. Its future auditories will be the suc- cessive generations of men, as they rise up before it, and gather around it. Its speech will be of patriotism and courage, of civil and religious liberty, of free government, of the moral improvement and elevation of mankind, and of the immortal memory of those who, with heroic devotion, have sacrificed their lives for their country."
Bunker Hill, on which the British erected a very strong for- tress, was named for George Bunker, an early settler. It is now crowned by the steeple of a Catholic church, which, thanks to its lofty elevation, can be seen for a considerable distance inland. The hill is already much encroached upon, and must soon follow some of its predecessors into the waters of the river. This eminence, Mount Benedict, and Winter Hill are situated in a range from east to west, each of them on or near Mystic River. Mount Benedict (Ploughed Hill) is in the mid- dle, and is the lowest of the three ; its summit was only half a mile from the English citadel where we stand, and which Sir Henry Clinton commanded in 1775.
As late as 1840 the summit and northern face of the hill retained the impress of the enemy's extensive works. The utmost labor and skill the British generals could command were expended to make the position impregnable. It could have been turned, and actually was turned, by a force crossing the mill-pond causeway to its rear ; but its fire commanded
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BUNKER HILL AND THE MONUMENT.
every point of approach, and its strong ramparts effectually protected the garrison. There is evidence that General Sulli- van intended making a demonstration in force in this direction during the winter of 1775, but some untoward accident pre- vented the accomplishment of his design.
It becomes our duty to refer to the almost obliterated ves- tiges of what was once the great artery of traffic between Boston and the falls of the Merrimack. It seems incredible that the Middlesex Canal, the great enterprise of its day, should have so quickly faded out of recollection. We have traced its scanty remains through the towns of Medford and Woburn, and have found its grass-grown basin and long-neglected tow-path quite distinct at the foot of Winter Hill in the former town, and along the railway to Lowell in the latter. In many places houses occupy its former channel. The steam caravan rushes by with a scream of derision at the ruin of its decayed predecessor, and easily accomplishes in an hour the distance the canal-boats achieved in twelve.
In 1793 James Sullivan of Boston, Oliver Prescott of Gro- ton, James Winthrop of Cambridge, Loammi Baldwin of Woburn, Benjamin Hall, Jonathan Porter, and others of Med- ford, were incorporated, and begun the construction of the canal. It was at first contemplated to unite the Merrimack at Chelms- ford with the Mystic at Medford, but subsequent legislation carried the canal to Charles River by a lock at Charlestown Neck, admitting the boats into the mill-pond, and another by which they gained an entrance to the river. The boats were received into the canal across the town of Boston, and unloaded at the wharves of the harbor. The surveys for the canal were made by Weston, an English engineer, and Colonel Baldwin superintended the excavation, etc. In 1803 the sweet waters flowed through and mingled with the ocean. Superseded by the railway, the canal languished and at length became disused. While it existed it furnished the theme of many a pleasant fiction of perils encountered on its raging stream ; but now it has gone to rest with its fellow, the old stage-coach, and we are dragged with resistless speed on our journey in the train of
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HISTORIC FIELDS AND MANSIONS OF MIDDLESEX.
the iron monster. Peace to the relics of the canal, it was slow but sure. There was not a reasonable doubt but that you would awake in the morning in the same world in which you went to sleep ; but now you repose on a luxurious couch, to awake perhaps in eternity.
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THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
CHAPTER IV.
THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
" From camp to camp thro' the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch."
SHAKESPEARE.
THE military position between the Mystic and Charles will be better understood by a reference to the roads that in 1775 gave communi- cation to the town of Boston.
From Roxbury the main road passed through Brookline and Little Cambridge, now Brighton, crossing the causeway and bridge which leads directly to the Col- leges. This was the route by which Lord Percy marched to Lexington.
From Charlestown, after passing the Neck by an artificial causeway, constructed in 1717, two roads diverged, as they now do, at what was then a common, now known as Sullivan Square. Near the point where these roads separated was Anna Whittemore's tavern, at which the Committee of Safety held some of its earliest sessions in 1774, and which had been an inn kept by her father as early as the famous year '45, and perhaps earlier. Malden Bridge is located upon the site of the old Penny Ferry, over which travel to the eastward once passed.
The first of these roads, now known as Washington Street, in Somerville, skirts the base of Prospect Hill, leaving the McLean Asylum on the south, and conducting straight on to
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HISTORIC FIELDS AND MANSIONS OF MIDDLESEX.
the Colleges. By this road the Americans marched to and retreated from Bunker Hill. Lord Percy entered it at what is now Union Square, in Somerville, and led his worn battalions over it to Charlestown.
The second road proceeded by Mount Benedict to the sum- mit of Winter Hill, where it divided, as at present ; one branch turning northward by General Royall's to Medford, while the other pursued its way by the powder-magazine to what is now Arlington, then known as Menotomy. The road over Winter Hill, by the magazine, which it has been stated was not laid out in 1775, is denominated a country road as early as 1703, and appears on the map included in this volume.
Besides these there were no other roads leading to the colonial capital. The shore between was yet a marsh, unim- proved, except for the hay it afforded, and reached only at a few points by unfrequented cartways. A causeway from the side of Prospect Hill, and a bridge across what is now Miller's River, gave access to the farm at Lechmere's Point. From the road first described a way is seen parting at what is now Union Square, crossing the river just named by a bridge, and leading by a circuitous route to Inman's house in Cambridgeport, and from thence to the Colleges. This road, from the nature of the ground, could have been but little used.
Mount Benedict is the first point where we encounter the American line of investment during the siege of Boston, after passing Charlestown Neck. In Revolutionary times it was called Ploughed Hill, probably from the circumstance of its being cultivated when the Americans took possession, while Winter and Prospect Hills were still untilled. The hill was within short cannon-range of the British post on Bunker Hill, and its occupation by the Americans on the 26th of August, 1775, was expected to bring on an engagement ; in fact, Washington offered the enemy battle here, but the challenge was not accepted.
Ploughed Hill was fortified by General Sullivan under a severe cannonade, the working party being covered by a detach- ment of riflemen, or riflers, as they were commonly called,
.
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THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
posted in an orchard and under the shelter of stone-walls. Finding they were not attacked, the Provincials contented themselves with stationing a strong picket-guard on the hill, usually consisting of about half a regiment. Poor's regiment performed a tour of duty there in November, 1775. A guard- house was built within the work for the accommodation of the picket, which was relieved every day. General Lee was much incensed because an officer commanding the guard allowed some boards to be pulled off the guard-house for fuel, and administered a sharp reprimand.
The Continental advanced outpost was in an orchard in front of Ploughed Hill. In summer the poor fellows were not so badly off, but in the inclement winter they needed the great watch-coats every night issued to them before they went on duty, and which the poverty of the army required them to turn over to the relieving guard. Here, as at Boston Neck, the pickets were near enough to each other to converse freely, - a practice it was found necessary to prohibit in orders. The reliefs on both sides could be easily counted as they marched down from their respective camps. The rules of civilized war- fare which respect sentinels seem, at first, to have been little observed at the Continental outposts. We had some Indians posted on the lines who could not understand why an enemy should not be killed under any and all circumstances. The Southern riflemen, also, were very much of this opinion, each being, Corsican-like, intent on "making his skin." The British officers were soon inspired with such fear of these marksmen that they took excellent care to keep out of range of their dreaded rifles.
It is time to relate an incident which occurred at this out- post, where the parleys and flags that were necessary on this side of the lines were exchanged. Very soon after General Lee's arrival in camp he took occasion to despatch a character- istic letter to General Burgoyne, in which he argued the ques- tion of taxation, lamented while he censured the employment of his quondam friends, Gage, Burgoyne, and Howe, in the army of subjugation, and ridiculed the idea which prevailed in
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HISTORIC FIELDS AND MANSIONS OF MIDDLESEX.
the British army of the cowardice of the Americans. This let- ter was written in Philadelphia before the battle of Bunker Hill, and the general was the bearer of his own missive as far as Cambridge.
It was probably not later than the morning after his arrival in camp that Lee went down to the British lines on Charles- town Neck, - then pushed about one hundred and fifty yards beyond the isthmus, - hailed the sentinel, and desired him to tell his officers that General Lee was there, and to inform General Burgoyne that he had a letter for him. The letter was to have been sent into Boston by Dr. Church, but was taken by Samuel Webb (afterwards a general), aid to General Putnam, to the lines near Bunker Hill, where Major Bruce of the 38th - the same who fought a duel with General Pigot - came out to receive it.
Webb advanced and said : “ Sir, here is a letter from General Lee to General Burgoyne. Will you be pleased to give it to him ? As some part of it requires an immediate answer, I shall be glad you would do it directly; and, also, here is another letter to a sister of mine, Mrs. Simpson, to whom I should be glad you would deliver it." The Major gave him every assurance that he would deliver the letter to Mrs. Simp- son himself and also to General Burgoyne, but could not do it immediately, as the General was on the other lines, meaning Boston Neck. " General Lee !" exclaimed Major Bruce. "Good God, sir ! is General Lee there ? I served two years with him in Portugal. Tell him, sir, I am extremely sorry that my profes- sion obliges me to be his opposite in this unhappy affair. Can't it be made up ? Let me beg of you to use your influence, and endeavor to heal this unnatural breach."
Upon hearing that General Lee had a letter for him, Bur- goyne had sent out a trumpeter, of his own Light Horse, over Boston Neck to receive it, but then learned by a second letter from Lee how his first had been forwarded. In his second com- munication Lee endeavored to obtain an exact list of the British losses at Bunker Hill, which great pains had been taken to conceal. Major Bruce told Mr. Webb that Colonel Aber-
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THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
crombie of the 22d was dead of a fever, - suppressing the fact that the fever was caused by a fatal wound, - and it was not until this parley took place that the Americans knew of Pit- cairn's death. Lee, on his part, enclosed an account of the American losses in that battle.
As mention has been made of the rifle regiment, the nucleus of Morgan's celebrated corps, and as we are now upon the scene of their earliest ex- ploits, a brief account of the leader and his merry men may not 1776 be uninteresting.
The riflemen were KI VIRGA REGE raised by a resolve of Congress, passed June 14, 1775, which au- thorized the employ- FLF: ment of eight hun- dred men of this arm, and on the 22d of the same month two companies additional FLAG OF MORGAN'S REGIMENT. from Pennsylvania were voted. The expresses despatched by Congress to the persons deputed to raise the companies had in many cases to ride from three to four hundred miles, yet such was the enthusiasm with which officers and men entered into the affair, that one company joined Washington at Cambridge on the 25th of July, and the whole body, numbering 1,430 men, arrived in camp on the 5th and 7th of August. The whole business had been completed in less than two months, and without the advance of a farthing from the Continental treasury. All had marched from four to seven hundred miles, encountering the extreme heat of midsummer, yet they bore the fatigue of their long tramp remarkably well. They were chiefly the backwoodsmen of the Shenandoah Valley, and brought their own long rifles with which they kept the savages from their clearings or knocked over a fat buck in full career.
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HISTORIC FIELDS AND MANSIONS OF MIDDLESEX.
Michael Cresap, the same whom Logan, the Indian chief, charged with the cold-blooded murder of his women and children, com- manded one of these companies, and Otho H. Williams, who afterwards became Greene's able assistant in the South, was lieutenant of another.
It is not to be wondered at that men who in boyhood had been punished by their fathers for shooting their game any- where except in the head should soon become the terror of their foes, or that they should be spoken of in the British camp as "shirt-tail men, with their cursed twisted guns, the most fatal widow-and-orphan makers in the world."
Their dress was a white or brown linen hunting-shirt, orna- mented with a fringe, and secured by a belt of wampum, in which a knife and tomahawk were stuck. Their leggings and moccasins were ornamented in the Indian fashion with beads and brilliantly dyed porcupine-quills. A round hat completed a costume which, it will be conceded, was simple, appropriate, and picturesque. Tall, athletic fellows, they seemed to despise fatigue as they welcomed danger. They marched in Indian file, silent, stealthy, and flitting like shadows though the forests, to fall on the enemy at some unguarded point.
These riflemen were the only purely distinctive body of men our Revolution produced. In costume, as in their mode of fighting, they were wholly American. In physique and martial bearing they were worthy to be compared with the Highlanders of Auld Scotland. The devotion of the men to their leader was that of clansmen to their chief. Indian fare in their pouches and a blanket on their backs found them ready for the march.
We have only to picture to ourselves a "Deer-slayer " or a " Hawk-eye" to see one of these hard-visaged, keen-eyed, weather-beaten woodsmen stand before us. For a skirmish or an ambush such men were unrivalled, but they could not with- stand the bayonet, as was shown in the battle of Long Island, where the rifle regiment, then commanded by Colonel Hand, was broken by a charge. Their weapon required too much deliberation to load ; for, after emptying their rifles, the enemy
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THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
were upon them before they could force the patched ball to the bottom of the barrel.
Colonel Archibald Campbell, of the 71st Highlanders, who, with a battalion of his regiment, was taken prisoner in Boston harbor and detained at Reading, admired the rifle-dress so much that it was reported he had one made for his own use, with which it was supposed he meant to disguise himself and effect his escape. The officer who made this discovery described the Highland colonel as " a damned knowing fellow," and adds, " If he should get away, I think he would make a formidable enemy ; for he is the most soldier-like, best-looking man I ever saw."
Morgan was a plain, home-bred man. He was very familiar with his men, whom he always called his boys; but this familiarity did not prevent his exacting and receiving implicit obedience to his orders. Sometimes, in case of a secret expedi- tion, the men ordered on duty were to be in readiness by three o'clock in the morning. They were then mounted behind horsemen provided for the purpose, and before daybreak would thus accomplish a day's march for foot-soldiers. Morgan told his men to shoot at those who wore epaulettes rather than the poor fellows who fought for sixpence a day. He carried a conch-shell, which he was accustomed to sound, to let his men know he still kept the field. His corps was sent to Gates to counteract the fear inspired by Burgoyne's Indian allies, who were continually ambushing our outposts and stragglers. It did not take them long to accomplish this task. Burgoyne after- wards said, not an Indian could be brought within sound of a rifle-shot. The British general himself owed his life on one occasion to another officer being mistaken for him, who received the bullet destined for his general. Washington estimated the corps at its true value, and, although he lent it temporarily to Gates, he very soon applied for its return ; but Gates begged hard to be permitted to retain it, and his victory at Saratoga was due in no small degree to its presence.
The first colonel of the rifle regiment was William Thomp- son, by birth an Irishman. He had been captain of a troop of
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horse in the service of Pennsylvania in the French war of 1759- 60, and before the Revolution resided at Fort Pitt, since Pittsburg. He was made a brigadier early in 1776, and, hav- ing joined General Sullivan in Canada, was made prisoner at Trois Rivières. Thompson was succeeded, in March, 1776, by Edward Hand, his lieutenant-colonel, who had accompanied the Royal Irish to America in 1774 as surgeon's mate, but who resigned on his arrival. He was afterwards a brigadier, and fought to the close of the war.
Daniel Morgan, who, in less than a week after the intelli- gence of the battle of Lexington, enrolled one hundred and seven men, with whom he marched to Cambridge, had been a wagoner in Braddock's army in 1755. For knocking down a British lieutenant he had received five hundred lashes without flinching. He seems at one period to have fallen into the worst vices of the camp, but before the Revo- lution had become a correct member of society. Washing- ton despatched him with Arnold to Quebec in September, 1775, where, after having forced his way through the first defences, he was made prisoner while paroling some captives that he himself had taken; so that a common fate befell both Morgan and Thompson, and on the same line of operations. Morgan, after his exchange, was appointed colonel of the 11th Virginia, a rifle-corps, November 12, 1776. Of his subse- quent career we need not speak.
Chastellux relates that when some of Rochambeau's troops were passing a river between Williamsburg and Baltimore, where they were crowded in a narrow passage, they were met by General Morgan, who, seeing the wagoners did not under- stand their business, stopped and showed them how to. drive. Having put everything in order, he proceeded quietly on his way.
The best account we have of Colonel Morgan's appearance describes him as " stout and active, six feet in height, not too much encumbered with flesh, and exactly fitted for the pomp and toils of war. The features of his face were strong and manly, and his brow thoughtful. His manners plain and
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THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
decorous, neither insinuating nor repulsive. His conversation grave, sententious, and considerate, unadorned and uncapti- vating."
Mount Benedict is associated with an event which has no parallel, we believe, in the history of our country, namely, the destruction of a religious institution by a mob. The ruins of the Convent of St. Ursula still remain an evidence of what popular rage, directed by superstition and lawlessness, has been able to accomplish in a community of high average civilization. These ruins have for nearly forty years been a constant re- minder of the signal violation of that religious liberty guaran- teed by the fathers of the republic. They belong rather to 1634 than to 1834.
THE URSULINE CONVENT IN RUINS.
It must be admitted that the Jesuit fathers who planted the missions of their order in every available spot in the New World possessed an unerring instinct for choosing fine situa- tions. Wherever their establishments have been reared civili- zation has followed, until towns and cities have grown up and
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HISTORIC FIELDS AND MANSIONS OF MIDDLESEX.
environed their primitive chapels. Whatever may be said of the order, it has left the finest specimens of ancient architec- ture existing on the American continent. We need only cite Quebec, Mexico, and Panama to support this assertion.
The choice of Mount Benedict, therefore, for the site of a convent is only another instance of the good judgment of the Catholics. The situation, though bleak in winter, commands a superb view of the meadows through which the Mystic winds, and of the towns which extend themselves along the opposite shores. Beyond these are seen the gray, rocky ridges, resem- bling in their undulations some huge monster of antiquity, which, coming from the Merrimack, form the most remarkable valley in Eastern Massachusetts, and through which, in the dim distance of bygone ages, the river may have found its outlet to the sea. Perched on their rugged sides appear the cottages and villas of a population half city, half rural, but altogether distinctive in the well-kept, thrifty appearance of their homes.
On the night of the 11th of August, 1834, the convent and outbuildings were destroyed by incendiary hands. The flames raged without any attempt to subdue them, until everything combustible was consumed, the bare walls only being left standing. The firemen from the neighboring towns were pres- ent with their engines, but remained either passive spectators or actors in the scenes that ensued. A feeble effort was made by the local authorities to disperse the mob, - an effort calculated only to excite contempt, unsupported as it was by any show of force to sustain it. The affair had been planned, and the concerted signal expected.
For some time previous to the final catastrophe rumors had prevailed that Mary St. John Harrison, an inmate of the con- vent and a candidate for the veil, had either been abducted or secreted where she could not be found by her friends. As this belief obtained currency, an excitement, impossible now to imagine, pervaded the community. Threats were openly made to burn the convent, but passed unheeded. Printed placards were posted in Charlestown, announcing that on such a night the convent would be burned, but even this did not arouse the
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THE CONTINENTAL TRENCHES.
authorities to action. At about ten o'clock on the night in question a mob, variously estimated at from four to ten thou- sand persons, assembled within and around the convent grounds. A bonfire was lighted as a signal to those who were apprised of what was about to take place. The Superior of the convent, Mrs. Moffatt, with the other inmates, were notified to depart from the doomed building. There were a dozen nuns, and more than fifty scholars, some of whom were Protestants, and many of a tender age. The announcement filled all with alarm, and several swooned with terror. The unfortunate females were at length removed to a place of security, and the work of destruction began and concluded without hindrance. The mob did not even respect the tomb belonging to the con- vent, but entered and violated this sanctuary of the dead.
A general burst of indignation followed this dastardly out- rage. Reprisals from the Catholics were looked for, and it was many years before the bad blood created by the event subsided. The better feeling of the community was aroused ; and few meetings in Old Faneuil Hall have given more emphatic utter- ance to its voice than that called at this time by Mayor Lyman, and addressed by Harrison Gray Otis, Josiah Quincy, Jr., and others. Measures of security were adopted, and once more, in the language of the wise old saw, "the stable door was shut after the steed had escaped."
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