was the young Benjamin Franklin in all of this?
Born in Boston in 1706, Franklin was the youngest son of an Englishman who crossed the Atlantic in 1683. The Franklin family was a large one, and young Benjamin ended up an apprentice to his elder brother James, who was editor and printer of the New-England Courant. By the age of fourteen, Ben Franklin was expert at employing ink on the printing press, and he contributed a number of essays of his own—under the pen name of “Silence Dogood.” The elder brother beat the younger one on many occasions, and in 1723, Ben Franklin skipped town, heading first to New York and then Philadelphia. The rest, as they say, is history.
One can, of course, ask the poignant question: How could Boston have lost the most talented of its sons, a boy who later became the most famous man of his era? The same question will later be posed in regard to Babe Ruth. How could Boston have traded that outsized talent to the New York Yankees, and thereby ensure its own defeat in numerous baseball seasons? The answer is that Bostonians do not always treat their own very kindly, and they sometimes expel those that would render them the best service.
What did Franklin have to say about Harvard College?
We believe he had mixed feelings where Harvard was concerned. Before the age of eleven, he’d hoped to attend Harvard one day: this hope was dashed when his father apprenticed him, first to the candle-making trade, and then to his brother the printer. As “Silence Dogood” (the pen name he used for essays he wrote for the Boston Gazette), Franklin heaped scorn on the pomposity of those that believed Harvard would turn a common person into a scholar. Franklin wrote:
What is the earliest writing from Ben Franklin’s hand?
To the best of our knowledge, it is a charming, if trite, section of poetry on the topic of Edward Teach, the pirate known as Blackbeard.
Will you hear of a bloody battle,
Lately fought upon the seas,
It will make your ears to rattle,
And your admiration cease;
Have you heard of Teach the Rover, And his knavery upon the Main;
How of gold he was a lover,
How he loved all ill got gain.
At length I entered upon a spacious plain in the midst of which was erected a large and stately edifice: It was to this that a great company of youths from all parts of the country were going: so stepping in among the crowd, I passed on with them, and presently arrived at the gate. The passage was kept by two sturdy porters named Riches and Poverty, and the latter obstinately refused to give entrance to any who had not first gained the favor of the former; so that I observed, many who came even to the very gate, were obliged to travel back as ignorant as they came, for want of this necessary qualification.
Did Franklin talk about his youthful days in Boston?
Yes, and his comments are a fascinating mixture of nostalgia and disdain. He modeled his own early career on that of Reverend Cotton Mather, the industrious Bostonian who penned roughly 450 books, pamphlets, and placards during his amazing career. Franklin admired many aspects of Puritan Boston, but he never regretted the move to Philadelphia; on the contrary, he believed it necessary to break from one’s roots in order to achieve one’s full potential.
How much do we know about the streets of Boston in the early eighteenth century?
Thanks to the famous “Bonner Map,” made by Captain John Bonner in 1722, we have a rather good idea of the streets, the cow paths, and even the docks and wharves. We know, for example, that Orange Street, named for Prince William of Orange, was the longest street in town, running all the way from The Neck to the downtown area. Boston Common was larger in the early eighteenth century than it is today: it sprawled over the northwest side of town. The North Mill Dam ran from the Old North End to what is now Beacon Street: the Mill Pond was later filled in, adding to the size of the downtown. King Street, which had some of the most fashionable houses, ran straight from downtown to Long Wharf, which easily dwarfed the other thirty wharves of the town. The Old North End was the most densely populated section of town with Salem, North, and Ship Streets dominating the whole (their twenty-first-century descendants do the same today).
Boats, ships, and pleasure vessels are shown on the Bonner Map, indicating that Boston was the most nautical of all the towns in colonial North America. Boston was still in first place in terms of maritime activity, but it would soon lose this role, coming in third, behind New York and Philadelphia. But when one examines the Bonner Map, he or she almost inevitably sighs for what once was: a tight-knit town in which almost everyone was known and recognized, and where people got around quite well without cars, taxis, or subways.
Does the Burgis Map show us the same things as the famous Bonner Map?
No. The Burgis Map was executed about the same time, but it shows primarily the harbor and merchant fleet, rather than the town itself. One clue to the map’s importance lies in its title, however: “A North East View of the Great Town of Boston.” The artist clearly wishes us to think of Boston as London in the New World, and the types of boats that are sketched, while not unrealistic, make Boston Harbor seem rather like the River Thames in downtown London.
Boston Light in Boston Harbor is the oldest lighthouse in the United States.
What about Boston Light? When did it come into being?
Constructed in 1716, Boston Light was the first permanent beacon in any of the original Thirteen Colonies. Three years later, a cannon was placed near the lighthouse so the keeper could warn vessels in a fog. The first known illustration of Boston Light was executed in 1723: the portrait shows a ten-gun sloop passing between the viewer and the lighthouse, which looks to be around fifty feet high. Situated on Little Brewster Island, Boston Light served its purpose very well until the American Revolution, when it was burned twice (once by each side!). When the new stone edifice was erected in 1784, it was meant to be permanent and though Boston Light is not manned today, radar continues to warn sailors of the many dangers involved in entering Boston Harbor.
Was there any movement to incorporate Boston as a city?
We sometimes call eighteenth-century Boston a city, but that’s because we don’t take the terminology of the time seriously. In truth, Boston was a town, and was run by a town meeting style of government, the same which had been established in the 1630s. Just to demonstrate that Bostonians were conflicted on the subject, a pamphlet circulated in Boston in the year 1714. Entitled “A Dialogue between a Boston Man and a Country Man,” this pamphlet was one of a kind.
The Boston Man—as he is identified throughout the pamphlet—speaks against the idea of incorporation, saying that the town and its people will be inundated by new costs and charges. He concludes his argument by declaring that the “ancient rights, and undoubted property of our voting at town meetings” will be taken away. The Country Man—as he is identified—replies that any negative aspects will be overshadowed by the streamlined efficiency that will take place. The Country Man even speaks words on the subject of immigration (perhaps the first ones to enter the American record). “They will be able by this to regulate your town better than now it is, and to take notice who comes into the town; and to let in or keep out who they please.”
SCIENCE AND RELIGION
We know that the Puritans
