gress, we claim by right of birth. The patriot Sam Adams, the " stirrer up
of the Revolution," with his nervous energy of tongue and pen, his wit and
sarcasm, his dignity and integrity and magnanimity, is second to no one in
the weight of his influence. His tall, graceful figure and courteous bearing
are very familiar to Boston people, as are also the features and character of
John Hancock.
Our winter has been a very quiet one, but little disturbed by the roar of
cannon and the terrors of bloodshed. But few dinner parties or receptions
have broken the monotony. 1 liave been twice to Major Mifflin's ; once in
December to meet Mrs. John Adams ; again in January, when her husband
Letter to Miss Livingstone. 69
was present. Mrs. Adams I cannot enough admire. There is evidence of
a mind of uncommon clearness, sharpened by reading and study, and a heart
warm and true, while her graceful accomplishments make her a lady of more
'than common attractions. Her husband you know. They seem to be ad-
mirably suited to one another. Mrs. Washington held a levee in January
and I was honored with an invitation. Colonel Vassall's house is perhaps
the most elegant and spacious in New England,^ and the reception was
everything one could wish. No display, no extravagance ; but simple taste
suited to the time of universal economy, characterized all the arrangements.
The magnificent rooms, elaborately carved and panelled, are becomingly fur-
nished, though I believe the whole house is not in common use.
Mrs. Morgan, wife of Dr. Morgan, who is in traitor Church's place as
director-general of the hospital, Mrs Mifflin, Mrs. Remington, Mrs. Custis,
Mrs. Gates, Mrs. Trowbridge, Mrs. Appleton and her daughters, Mrs. Mc-
Henrv, Mrs. Wigglesworth, Mrs. Hastings and Miss Rebecca Hastings, and
many others whom you do not know, were there. Several officers were also
present. It was much like the companies at Major Mifflin's, in numbers, and
many of the faces were the same.
The event of the spring, the joy which has crowned the patient waiting of
the winter, is the evacuation of Boston by General Sir William Howe and his
Majesty's troops. It was accomplished with so little bloodshed that we have
deep cause for gratitude. Among the throng who greeted Washington on
his triumphant entry to the town, March iSth, there were none in sorrow for
the loss of dear friends. There have been less than two hundred American
lives lost in battle during all the months that British and New England
armies have been confronting one another, and now our Colony, we hope and
believe, is freed from the incubus that has weighed upon her so long, and it
only remains to push from the harbor all remnants of the British navy, to
be once more at liberty to breathe. You cannot know what a relief it is to be
able to go and come, feeling sure that the Redcoats are at a distance, and not
likely to burden us again with their presence. Boston is not injured nearly
as much as was feared, owing to the orders of General Howe, who allowed
no plundering unless the necessities of the army called for it, and whose
orders were so strict as to punish with death any disobedience of this com-
mand. The soldiers were obliged to pay due attention to dress, and to
never appear at parade " without having the hair properly and smoothly
clubbed." The officers must wear sashes on duty, and none were to ap-
pear under arms with tobacco in their mouths. This one of General Howe's
orders gives us a little glimpse of life in the British camp. " The com-
manding officer is surprised to find the necessity of repeating orders, that
long since ought to have been complied with, as the men on all duties ap-
pear in the following manner, viz : hair not smooth and badly powdered,
several without slings to their firelocks, hats not bound, pouches in a shame-
* It is evident that Miss Dudley had not seen the Pepperell and Sparhawk houses at Kittery. — Ed.
70 Extracts from the Diary of Dorothy Dudley.
ful and dirty condition, no frills to their shirts, and their linen very dirty,
leggings hanging in a slovenly manner about their knees, some men without
uniform stocks, and their arms and accoutrements by no means so clean as
they ought to be. These unsoldierlike neglects must be immediately rem-'
edied."
I have been spending a few days in Boston with Mrs Elwyn, and drove
about the town to look at the changes which have gone on under the British
rule. The North End is very interesting to me as the place where many
plans for the furtherance of American liberty were hatched. Paul Revere
and Joseph Warren and James Otis lived in that quarter. At Copp's Hill
we drove up to the cemetery just as a funeral procession was winding its
way into the enclosure. It was that of a man in the prime of life, as we
learned afterwards, a Mr. John Williston, who died from the effects of
privations during the siege. Dr. Mather Byles, who has been pastor of
Hollis Street Church for more than forty years, made a prayer at the grave,
and Robert Newman, the sexton of Christ Church, was in attendance. Re-
membering your passion for epitaphs, I copied several from the grave-stones,
some of them black with age. Here is one : —
" Time, what an empty vapor 'tis,
And days, how swift they fley !
Our Hfe is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh.
The moment when our liveS begin,
We all begin to die."
Here is another from a stone more than half a century old : " Life's little
stage is a small eminence, inch high, the grave above— that home of man
where dwells the multitude. We gaze around, we read their monuments,
we sigh ; and while we sigh, we sink, and are what we deplore." These
lines were on an old monument without name or date, and it was with dif-
ficulty I could decipher the words : —
"What is't fond mortal yt tliou wonld'st obtain
By spinning out a painful life of cares ;
Thou livest to act thy childhood o're again,
And naught intends but grief and seeing years.
Who leaves this world like me, just in my prime,
Speeds all my business in a * * * time."
I paused at a little grave, my eye caught by my own name, Dorothy, and
read on the sunken, aged stone, that
DORYTHY GkEF.NOUOH
Aged 4 Years & 8 Months
Dyed ye 20 October 1667.
You have heard of Dr. Byles, who is so distinguished for his wit and wis-
dom. He is a descendant of Richard Mather and John Cotton. His son,
Mather Byles, Jr., rector of Christ Churcli, was so determined a royalist that
Dr. Byles and his Preaching. 71
he left his flock and sailed for Halifax with the King's troops. The old
Doctor was very non-committal in politics, rarely mentioning them, and
never introducing the subject in the pulpit. When asked why he so stead-
fastly avoided it, he said : " I have thrown up four breastworks, behind
which I have entrenched myself, neither of which can be enforced. In the
first place, I do not understand politics ; in the second place, you all do,
every man and mother's son of you ; in the third place, you have politics all
the week, pray let one day in seven be devoted to religion ; in the fourth
place, I am engaged in work of infinitely greater importance ; give me any
subject to preach on of more consequence than the truth I bring to you,
and I will preach on it, the next Sabbath."
His preaching is very effective, savoring of earnestness and sincerity, and
filled with the truth of the Gospel. His manner, too, is attractive, and his
voice powerful and melodious. Out of the pulpit he is brimming over with
fun, never at a loss for a repartee, and quick to see the ludicrous. It is
said that in his young days he made advances to a lady who refused to favor
his suit. Afterwards she married a IVTr. Quincy, and Dr. Byles, the next
time he saw her, remarked : " So, madam, it appears tliat you prefer a
Quincy to Byles." " Yes," she replied, " for if there had been anything
worse than biles, God would have afflicted Job with them." At one time,
the road in front of his house was in a very bad condition, so that in wet
weather the mud was much like the slough we read about in Bunyan's
" Pilo;rim's Pro<rress." All his efforts to arouse the town government to
remedy the trouble were without success. One day, two of the selectmen,
the very ones who had charge of the streets, in riding past the house, found
themselves stuck in the mud, and were obliged to alight from the carriage to
extricate it from the slough. As they did so, the tall, commanding figure of
Dr. Byles appeared before them, and bowing gracefully and respectfully, he
said : " Gentlemen, I have often complained to you of this nuisance, without
any attention being paid to it, and I am very glad to see you stirring in this
matter now." The good old Doctor has made many an enemy by his un-
sparing sarcasm, which he cannot forbear using, even if it cuts its victim
to the quick. His family are determined loyalists, every one ; and public
opinion says, if Dr. Mather Byles did not close his mouth so tight, in
political matters, Tory principles would be sure to find utterance.
Dr. Byles is a poet of no mean fame, having '\Vritten many verses of both
a serious and trifling nature. On one occasion Governor Belcher, who was
a warm friend and admirer of the Doctor's, invited him to visit the Province
of Maine in his company. Doctor Byles declined, but the Governor, noth-
ing daunted by the refusal, set himself to work to devise some way of secur-
ing the wished-for pleasure. He persuaded the punning parson ^ to take
1 Dr.Byles's humor is celebrated in a poetical account of the clergy of Boston, quoted by Mr. Samuel
Kettell, in his Specunens of A tnericati Poetry : —
" There 's punning Byles, provokes our smiles,
A man of stately parts ;
72 Extracts from the Diary of DorotJiy Dudley.
tea, one Sabbath afternoon, on board the Scarborough ship-of-war, and as
the friends were cosily seated at table, engaged in conversation and quaffing
fragrant draughts of steaming hyson, slowly but surely the ship was carry-
ing them out to sea. When the Doctor discovered the stratagem, he resigned
himself to the voyage with a very good grace. The next Sabbath, in lack of
a suitable hymn for service at sea, he composed a very excellent one, the
first stanza of which I remember : —
" Great God, thy works our wonder laise ;
To tliee our swelling notes belong ;
Wliile skies, and winds, and rocks, and seas, '
Around shall echo to our song."
Almost every Tory has taken his departure from Boston with the British
soldiers. There are none to be seen in the streets in this time of general
thanksgiving, and except for the manifest-signs of suffering consequent upon
the reign of war, the town looks as in the far away days of peace.
April 7.0th. — If you were with me this lovely spring day we would per-
suade Tony Vassall, the quondam coachman of Mrs. Penelope Vassall, to
drive us about the town. It seems very lonely since the tents have disap-
peared, and with them the soldiers whose busy hfe was incorporated with
our own for nearly a twelve-month. Since you cannot see Cambridge as
it looks to-day, let my eyes do service instead, and, if you enlist your imag-
'ination, perhaps you will be able to discern the picture, First, you must
look at our college halls, now vacant. They rear their walls of brick as
proudly as if conscious of their importance to the world of letters. You
know they did good service during the last year, sheltering nearly two
thousand soldiers from the snows and blows of winter. We will let Tony
drive us slowly past the meeting-house, where Dr. Nathaniel Appleton
has preached for twenty years, and for nearly forty years previous in the
old meeting-house, of which this takes the place. Dr. Increase Mather
preached his installation sermon, and Dr. Cotton Mather extended the right
hand of fellowship. The good Doctor has lived for more than fourscore
years, and we fear he must leave us before long. Here the first Pro-
vincial Congress of Massachusetts was held, until adjourned to Watertown,
and here for many years the College Commencements were celebrated in
midsummer. Look across the road to the court-house, which lifts its
tower high in the air as a warning, perhaps, to miscreants. We turn the
corner, past the stately tree which for years has outstretched its sheltering
arms over the heads of passing man and beasts, and come abruptly upon
He visits folks to crack his jokes,
Which never mend their hearts.
" With strutting gait, and wig so great,
He walks along the streets,
And throws out wit, or what 's like it,
To every one he meets." — Eu.
I'\ .liVii ^1*. -. M''!''!!!' «'!■! '■■. f 'V'"i' T 1,(1
H
X
tq
o
74 Extracts fi'oni the Diary of Dorothy Diidley.
the president's house, which has harbored all the revered men who stood
at the head of the College Faculty since President Wadsworth. Riding
slowly toward the south we come next to Professor Wigglesworth's house,
which is very old, having been built. I have heard, by old President Lev-
erett, before this century came in. The worthy professor is a great student,
as was his father, the first Hollis Professor of Divinity in the college, and, in
proof of this, there is a hole worn through the floor by their feet under the
desk of the room used, by father and son, as a study. Next to this interest-
ing house is the old parsonage, which has stood for a hundred years ; the
residence of Dr. Urian Oakes, who was not only pastor of the church, but
college president as well ; of Rev. Nathaniel Gookin and Rev. William
Brattle, as well as our present beloved and aged pastor. Dr. Appleton.
This venerable house has undergone some repairs which have materially
altered its appearance and freshened its -life. Long, may it stand as a re-
minder of the lives of the holy men wlio have done so much for Cambridge
by their influence and their labors.
Now Tony will turn the horse's head toward the right and we will ride
down to Butler's Hill, past Mr. Dana's house, which is a noble mansion set
in the midst of orchards and grounds which are finely cultivated. Further
down we come to Mr. Inman's estate, which, since the departure of the
soldiers, has been occupied by two ladies, one of them Miss Betsey Murray,
a niece of Mrs. Inman's, though the fact of her being there is a secret,
known only to a few. Mr. Ralph Inman you have often heard of as one of
the aristocrats of our town, and members of Christ Church. Mrs. Inman
is really a remarkable woman. She belongs to the Murray family, which
proudly dates back to the Norman conquest in England, and claims kindred
blood with the Philiphaugh family of Murrays in Selkirkshire. She is a
stanch Scotch woman, and has the energy of character and charming
frankness and honesty so common to that people. She has crossed the
ocean many times in company with her brother, Mr. James Murray, a gen-
tleman of upright character and great success as a merchant. She has
been three times married ; to Mr. Inman about five years since. When she
was Elizabeth Murray, I have been told that she carried on business in a
shop, corner of Queen Street and Cornhill in Boston, and made for herself
a very comfortable income, and during her first two marriages she contin-
ued the business, and still owns the building. Her property, acquired by
her own exertions, is considerable, and her husband, Mr. Smith, left her his
whole estate, so that she has had all the comforts and luxuries of wealth.
She is classed among the Tories because of her associations with the Brit-
ish officers of government, her husband, Mr. Inman, having been an ad-
dresser to General Gage last year. Her education and social advantages
have united to make her a most delightful companion, and one whose pres-
ence was eagerly sought. She has remained in this vicinity during all the
troubles, though Mr. Inman fled into IJoston, and owing to her acquaintance
The Inmau House. 75
with General Putnam, Major Mifflin, and others among our officers, has been
secured from molestation by our soldiers. I heard to-day that General Put-
nam deputed his son to remain in Cambridge on the day of Bunker Hill
battle, to guard Mrs. Inman — a proof certainly of the high regard he en-
tertained for her.
The house is large and elegant in its appointments, but now the air of
carelessness which is visible around the place is very sad. Barracks dis-
figure the eastern border of the grounds, and here and there we come upon
traces of soldiers' life. Everywhere in our ride we see the evidences of
war. Cambridge lines stretch themselves from Butler's Hill to the river, and
forts are plentifully sprinkled over the town for our protection. Turning
our house around (for at Mr. Inman's farm we find ourselves at the limit of
civilization in Cambridge), we drive back to Butler's Hill. On this eminence
you can have a good view of our fortified town. Do you see that redoubt at
our left, just at the bend of the river ? That is Fort Number One.^ We
would drive around by it and follow the course of the river to the causeway
from Boston, if the road was sufficiently travelled to render it pleasant rid-
ing. But only heavy country wagons laden with produce ever come into
this part of our village. So Tony gives the pony a smart touch with the
whip, and soon we are in front of Colonel Phipps's handsome house whose
grounds extend down to the river. Colonel David Phipps is a brother, you
know, of Mrs. Vassall, Mrs. Lee, Mrs. Lechmere, and Mrs. Boardman. His
house was taken last spring when he left the town for Boston, and was used
as a hospital during the summer. Look at those wooden Indians standing
guard upon the gate posts, barbarous in dress and expression, deliberately
taking aim with unerring arrow at the heads of unwelcome guests. They
are a source of terror to many childish minds, believing, as they do, that
these savage sentinels are specially devoted to the destruction of naughty
children ; and the road past their domain is traversed by flying feet when
necessity makes it a road to duty.
Pursuing our journey, we pass the house some people say President Dun-
ster occupied at one time, though he lived, I believe, in the old college
house in the college yard during most of his presidency ; through the
square to Judge Remington's house, past the jail and the jailer's house to
the road which is the thoroughfare from Boston. Looking down toward the
river you see the tavern kept by Ebenezer Bradish, so popular an inn par-
ticularly at Commencement seasons, and which the students were wont to
patronize so freely. Here we are at the borders of the Brattle grounds,
which are unique in their elegance, and which by the departure of both father
and son are left to be used by our government. They extend down to the
river, and toward the west to the estate of the Widow Vassall. A private
driveway leads up to the substantial house which stands as sentinel in the
centre of the grounds. We will turn to the right and pass again the court-
1 Present site of The Riverside Press. — Ed.
76
Extnxcts from tJic Diary of DorotJiy Dudley.
house, and meeting-house, old Massachusetts, Stoughton, and Harvard, little
Holden Chapel, and Hollis halls, till we reach the gambrel-roofed house,*
which shields itself behind a row of Lombardy poplars, at the further limits
of the college green, beyond the road to Charlestown. This is Mr. Has-
tings's house, famous as the head-quarters of the Committee of Safety, and
honored often by the presence of Washington during his residence in Cam-
bridge. On the opposite side of the Common we see the magnificent wide-
spreading elm immortalized by our Commander-in-chief, when, standing be-
neath its shade the third day of last July, he formally assumed the command
of all the troops of the Colonies. In a line with this giant tree stand two
others which for a century and more have been silent witnesses of the life of
the village. These three venerable elms saw the uprising of the old wooden
Holden Chapel.
building where gathered the nucleus of Harvard College ; they heard the
ringing of the desecrating axe as it laid low many of their companions of tlie
forest, and looked on, as the seminar)-, growing in proportions as in years,
added, one by one, the more imposing structures which now stand within the
college yard. How many stories they could tell us, were their long silence
to be broken, of the men of the past who have walked beneath their, shade,
and how many secrets would be unlocked to us which will never be recorded
on history's page ! Beneath one of them, the next neighbor to the Wash-
ington elm, stood Rev. George Whitefield,^ I am told, when, thirty years
' The Holmes house. — Eb.
^ This tree, afterwards known as the Wliitefield elm, was destroyed a few years ago by the city au.
thorities because it was considered an interruption to the travel on Garden Street. A respite of a few
years had been granted it at the earnest solicitation of some to whom the monarchs of the " forest
The Wliitefield Elm. yy
ago, he visited Cambridge and preached to the students of Harvard.
How the venerable tree must have echoed with the eloquence of the
gifted preacher, as with burning words he pleaded with his hearers who
thronged the Common, beseeching them for Christ's sake to be reconciled
to God. North of the Hastings house lived Mr. Moses Richardson, one
of the three brave men who were killed one year ago to-day and were so
hastily buried in the rude grave within the old cemetery. Dr. Warren lit-
tle thought, when with sympathizing words he promised a better burial to
them, to soothe the grief-stricken friends, that he himself would so soon lie
low, away from the terrors and trials of earth. Some time we hope to raise
a stone to commemorate their patriotism and heroic death. Further up
the road to Menotomy lives Captain Walton of the militia, whose com-
pany was out, of course, on that day of terror. Tony himself has a snug
little home on this road, where with his wife, Lucy, and Darby his wide-
awake seven-year-old, he has lived since the flight of his mistress. But
few houses are scattered along this road. Mr. Frost's house, a good way
beyond, sheltered a number of soldiers while the army was stationed in
Cambridge. He. I believe, built the liouse which Rev. Mr. Serjeant, rector
of Christ Church, occupied for a time, and which we are passing now in
going from Menotomy Road to Christ Church. Let us ride further, for I
would like you to see Church Row, or Tory Row, as latterly it has been
called. The Brattle estate we touch, on its western border, as we ride past,
Widow Vassall's on our left and Colonel John Vassall's on our right. I
mention these houses by the names of their Tory owners, but in reality they
have passed from their hands and are now used by our government. Gen-
eral Washington has a glorious view from his windows in the magnificent
house of his choice. The blue hills stretch their hazy length for several
miles along the opposite shore of 'the river. To-day the sun lights up the
dimpling stream with numberless diamond flashes, and over the whole land-
scape he has thrown a bright halo of glory. Next above our General's head-
primeval " are dear, and the feeling of regret and almost of indignation at its final sacrifice was exten-
sive. This sentiment found expression in some lines attributed to the Rev. Nicholas Hoppin, D. D.,
for many years rector of Christ Church, two of which are appended. — Ed.
." Thy room was wanted, huge old Elm,
Magnate of Nature's realm !
Thou hast stood forth too long,
Putting thy pillared strength
Our rattling courts among;
And thou hast met thy doom at length,
Deserving a lament in nobler song!
" Down, then, with thy enormous bulk.
Thy crazed unwieldly hulk !
This time of rushing haste
Will not abide the old ;
Has not a thought to waste
On bygone memories idly told,
Nor brooks one obstacle from age misplaced."
7^
Extracts from the Diary of Dorothy Dudley.
quarters we come to the sometime residence of Jvidge Richard Lechmere,l
and later of Judge Jonathan Sewall, both aristocrats and Tories, who left
town some time ago. The Phipps farm, wliich comprises the eastern part of
Cambridge, passed into the hands of Judge Lechmere on his marriage with
Miss Phipps, and it is known often as Lechmere's Point, celebrated as the
"place of landing of the Redcoats under Pitcairn and Smith, as intent on an
errand of destruction they left Boston one year ago last night. Judge Sewall
is a genial, upright gentleman — an intimate friend of our own John Adams,
though Jonathan and John have pclitically walked far apart of late. Judge