We embarked on the trail from the back end, starting at the U.S.S. Constitution. Unfortunately, thanks to the government shutdown, we didn't get to see much of it.
And so it was onto Bunker Hill. The visitor's center was closed, but the monument atop the grassy hill was free to view, and so we did. According to my family tree, I have an ancestor (David Pulsipher) who died on the 17th of June, 1775, at the Battle of Bunker Hill. Because the visitor's center was closed, I couldn't dive any deeper into that tidbit of information, but knowing that made this ground that much more hallowed.
Following the red brick-lined Freedom Trail up to Bunker Hill.
To reach the next destination on the Freedom Trail, we had to cross the bridge over the Charles River/Boston Harbor. We didn't have any tea to ceremoniously dump in (sorry, Riley), but Garrett really enjoyed the part of the bridge that was a grate that looked right down into the water. It vibrated under our feet from the rush of passing traffic, which is why Garrett dubbed it the Ticklish Bridge, and why it was his favorite part of the day.
After the bridge, we started winding our way through Boston's old North End, where the streets are cobbled and narrow, and the buildings are as historic as the events that happened here. Among other things we saw were the Old North Church (of Paul Revere and "one if by land, two if by sea" fame), Faneuil Hall (which played an important role in revolutionary politics), the Boston Latin School (the country's oldest public school, dating to 1635, and boasting Benjamin Franklin as an alumnus), the site of the Boston Massacre, the Granary Burying Ground (where some very notable people are buried), and the famous Boston Common.
Looking down a narrow street to the Old North Church.
Paul Revere's home was near here. It was getting crowded, and the kids were getting hungry, so we missed seeing it.
Faneuil Hall. We couldn't see anything inside, aside from the privately run touristy shops, thanks to the shutdown. Also thanks to the shutdown, we couldn't make a desperately needed pit stop, so we opted to hurry on.
The Boston Massacre happened on this street.
The statue of Benjamin Franklin stands at the site of the original Boston Latin School.
The Granary Burying ground.
Buried here are Samuel Adams,
the five who died during the Boston Massacre (they are buried in the Adams' family plot),
and Paul Revere (the small headstone to the right is the original marker), among others. John Hancock is also buried in this cemetery, but we missed his headstone.
Nearly all of the graver markers were decorated with this Puritan motif called the Soul Effigy, a skull with wings that represented the soul flying to heaven. Since Puritanism was such a rigid religion, decorating tombstones was one of their only artistic outlets to express their beliefs about the afterlife.
At the entrance of Boston Common.
All of those sites along the Freedom Trail were well and good, and I'm glad we saw them. But my favorite part of Boston were the Public Gardens, just beyond the Common. They were beautiful, not crowded, and, most importantly, they were the home of Mr. and Mrs. Mallard and Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack.
The island where I'm assuming the Mallards made their home.
Getting back to our car was an adventure, and included a ride on the T, another crossing of the Ticklish Bridge, and a glorious face plant and many tears from Caleb. But we made it -- just in time to get stuck in rush hour traffic en route to what the boys lovingly termed our "hotel home."
Day Two of our New England weekend was spent in Concord. We started at Walden Pond.
Replica of Thoreau's Walden Pond cabin.
Walden Pond
We hiked a lovely trail around the pond.
It's true: you haven't lived until you've come to the New England woods, especially in the fall.
Site of Thoreau's original cabin.
I can see the appeal that enticed Thoreau.
We then made our way to the homes of Concord's famous 19th century Transcendental thinkers, as well as their final resting place; turns out they were neighbors both in life and death. Because of the hungry/whiny/sleepy children in the backseat, we didn't tour the inside of any of them. Someday, though, I'd like to go back to see more of the Alcott's Orchard House.
The home of Ralph Waldo Emerson.
The Alcott's Orchard House
The Old Manse, both an ancestral Emerson home, as well as once lived in by Nathaniel Hawthorne.
The birthplace of Henry David Thoreau.
Author's Ridge at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, the final resting place of....
the Thoreau family (Henry's is the small headstone on the left),
the Hawthornes,
the Emersons (who were as poetic with their epitaphs as they were in their published works),
and all of the Alcotts.
This is what the boys did while we tiptoed through the cemetery.
The other attraction Concord has to offer is Minute Man National Historic Park, site of the Old North Bridge and the first skirmish ("the shot heard round the world") of the Revolutionary War. Because of that darn government shutdown, it was closed....but not so hard and fast that we couldn't park next door at The Old Manse and walk right over. We thought it fitting to cross the lines and rebel, albeit quietly, against the government-mandated closure since our forefathers did something so similar in the very same spot nearly 250 years ago.
The Old North Bridge (not original -- there have been six bridges on this spot since the one the colonists crossed in 1775).
Statue of a minuteman, done by Daniel Chester French, who also sculpted the statue of Lincoln at the his memorial in D.C.
Distant view of the bridge.
We stayed one more night in our "hotel home" before winding our way home on Sunday. But before we headed south, however, we ventured just a little bit farther north, into New Hampshire, to see Peterborough, the little town my ancestor's helped settle. After living there for a few generations, the branch of the family I'm descended from left to head west, thanks to some preaching done in the local church by Brigham Young and a few other LDS missionaries. About half of the town's inhabitants, including my ancestors, were baptized in a small canal near the church, and then left at this time. The Nays and McNees (same family; named just altered) who came before, though, are buried here, so we hunted down the oldest cemetery in town and found their headstones.
William McNee (pronounced McNay), the first of the family to have settled in Peterborough, was not only a Deacon, he was also a Revolutionary War veteran, and is immortalized as such at the cemetery entrance.
William McNee's headstone.
More Nay family headstones, and there are quite a few more besides these. The name appears to have started changing with William's children.
A view of the cemetery. All of the graves face east.
The chapel in Peterborough where Brigham Young and Company preached. The canal where everyone was baptized no longer exists, but from what I understand it was located in what is now an alleyway across the street from the church.
Peterborough is a stereotypically quaint New England town, and in fact was the model for Grover's Corners in Thornton Wilder's play, Our Town. Afterwards we took a few back roads to soak in the scenery and happened on this:
Remind me again why my family left this part of the country? So, so beautiful, what with the changing autumn leaves and the ancient low stone fences marking property lines.
And then it was really time to go home. It was a wonderful little getaway, and very much needed, if my rising anxiety levels as we neared New York City (and its accompanying horrible traffic) are any indication. Next up on my New England bucket list is Maine, now the only state in the region I haven't yet been to (and the one I just might want to visit most).
2 comments:
I did Boston exactly a year ago! I agree: It should be on everyone's bucket list. It is gorgeous in the fall. I loved the Freedom Trail and the Minute Man National Park. I'm so sorry you went during the shut down. I couldn't help but think to myself this year that it's a good thing I did that trip last year instead of this one. You'll just have to go back sometime when everything is open. ;-0
Awesome that you got to go to a town your ancestors founded. We have a family town like that in New England and somewhere in Canada too, I think. My dad and two brothers went once, but I've not been (and can't even remember the name . . . )
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