ground, first used about 1660, where rests Boston's venerated dust. The trees interweave their branches above the tombs, and only pencil-rays of sunlight break the broad, cool shadows of the spot. The Paddock elms used to keep guard over it in front. Within the enclosure are the remains of Governor Hancock, the Franklin family, Governors Bowdoin, Adams, Sumner, and Sullivan; Robert Treat Paine, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, Peter Faneuil of revered memory, Thomas Prince, Hon. John Phillips, the first mayor of the city, Reverend Doctors Belknap, Lothrop, Eckley, Stillman, and Baldwin, and, last but not least of a long list of historic notables, Paul Revere. The victims of the Boston Massacre on the ever-memorable 5th of March were buried here. The gravestone of Peter Daillè, a French Huguenot minister of blessed memory, is still seen. Queer old Governor Bellingham, who at an advanced age "married himself" to a young wife, "contrary to the practice of the Province," was buried here in 1672.

Going around to Salem Street, we come to Christ Church and Copp's Hill Burying-ground. From the steeple of this church the signal light was hung for Paul Revere. The old pulpit was furnished with Bible and prayer-book by George II. Pitcairn was interred in the vaults of the church, and it is said his remains are still there, and that the wrong body was sent by mistake to Westminster Abbey. The chime of bells in the steeple was hung in 1744. These bells rang through the palmy days of the English Georges; they were Revolutionary tones, and they have played through all the republic's years of prosperity and peace. The city has stretched far beyond the limits of their sound. In Copp's Hill Burying-ground, near at hand, rest the remains of the Mather family. It was from this hill that Clinton and Burgoyne directed the

1775.

Beginning of the War.

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battery that set fire to Charlestown at the Battle of Bunker Hill.

Among the notable relics outside of Boston, and in its immediate vicinity, may be named the old Cradock mansion in Medford, the old Powder House in Somerville, and the Craigie House in Cambridge, better known as the residence of Longfellow, the poet, and as Washington's headquarters.

Let us now turn from our peaceful walk amid historic associations to the stirring scenes of the war.

The encounters at Lexington and Concord thoroughly aroused the American people. The news rang through the land that blood had been spilt, that already there were martyrs to the great cause. Mounted couriers galloped along all highways. Over the bustle of the marketplace, in the stillness of the quiet village church, there broke the startling shout, "The war has begun." All men felt that the hour had come, and they promptly laid aside their accustomed labor that they might gird themselves for the battle. North Carolina, in her haste, threw off the authority of the king, and formed herself into military companies. Georgia sent gifts of money and of rice, and cheering letters, to confirm the bold purposes of the men of Boston. In aristocratic and loyal Virginia there was a general rush to arms. From every corner of the New England States men hurried to Boston.

Down in pleasant Connecticut an old man was ploughing his field one April afternoon. His name was Israel Putnam. He was now a farmer and tavern-keeper, a combination frequent at that time in New England, and not at all inconsistent, we are told, "with a Roman character." Formerly he had been a warrior. He had fought the Indians, and had narrowly escaped the jeopardies of such warfare. Once he had been bound to a tree, and the

savages were beginning to toss their tomahawks at his head, when unlooked-for rescue found him. As rugged old Israel ploughed his field, some one told him of the fight at Lexington. That day he ploughed no more. He sent word home that he had gone to Boston. Unyoking his horse from the plough, in a few minutes he was mounted and hastening towards the camp.

Boston and its suburbs stand on certain islets and peninsulas, access to which, from the mainland, is gained by one isthmus which is called Boston Neck, and another isthmus which is called Charlestown Neck. A city thus circumstanced is not difficult to blockade. The American

yeomanry blockaded Boston. There were five thousand soldiers in the town; but the retreat from Concord inclined General Gage to some measure of patient endurance, and he made no attempt to raise the blockade.

The month of May was wearing on. Still General Gage lay inactive. Still patriot Americans poured in to the blockading camp. They were utterly undisciplined. They were without uniform. The English scorned them as a rabble "with calico frocks and fowling-pieces." But they were Anglo-Saxons, with arms in their hands and a fixed purpose in their minds. It was very likely that the unwise contempt of their enemies would not be long unrebuked.

At this time an event took place in an unexpected quarter, which fired the spirit of the colonists from Rhode Island to Georgia.

THE STORY OF TICONDEROGA AND ETHAN ALLEN.

In the early days of the Revolution the American patriots gained many important advantages by their boldness, almost amounting to audacity, in attacking forts and garrisons unexpectedly. One of the most successful and