It’s finally time to wrap up this visit to Boston, one of my favorite cities. (I’m sure we’ll be back here sooner or later.) So far we have walked The Freedom Trail, starting at Boston Common, seen the Old State House and Faneuil Hall, gone through Paul Revere’s house and the Old North Church, went through the USS Cassin Young in the Charlestown Navy Yard, then showed off the USS Constitution.
Leaving the USS Constitution and the Charlestown Navy Yard, one last thing that caught my eye. While it’s a routine item in Boston, it’s a funny looking oddity to someone who’s lived too long in Southern California. I had to stop and wonder, why does this fire hydrant have an antenna? Are the fire hydrants here all connected to the Internet or linked to the other fire hydrants? Are these really, really high tech fire hydrants in one of our country’s oldest cities?
Obviously not. (I’m goofy and silly, but not that goofy and silly.) It’s just there to warn the snowplow drivers about the hydrant’s presence so that they don’t sheer it off when clearing the the street while the snow’s three or four feet deep. Or, if this corner of the lot hasn’t been cleared at all, it lets the fire department find the hydrant underneath the snow in the event of an emergency. Although that might not have been much use this last winter when they had ten to fifteen to twenty feet or more of snow piled up.
Heading back up the hill and inland from the Charlestown Navy Yard, you’ll remember that we found this statue on the Charlestown Training Ground. I want to know who cleans it – it’s surprisingly clear of “pigeon residue” for a big city statue.
Three blocks up from the Training Ground you’ll find the Bunker Hill Monument. I knew it was there because the maps said it should be, and I had seen it sticking up from a distance when crossing the Charles River. But the townhouses and apartment buildings along those blocks are a couple stories high, the streets are tree-lined, so I remember being surprised to come out from between them and suddenly find a large, open area with the monument.
Colonel William Prescott was one of the leaders of the revolutionary military movement in 1775 Boston. On June 17, 1775, the American revolutionary militia took on a much larger British force in the “Battle of Bunker Hill.” The battle is considered to be the first significant battle in the American Revolution. The British forces, while ultimately able to prevail in three assaults on the militia positions, had over 800 injured and 200 killed from their force of 2,200. The Americans forces suffered 100 killed and more than 300 injured before retreating.
However, the “Battle of Bunker Hill” was not fought on Bunker Hill. Bunker’s Hill is about 600 yards inland. The monument, statues, and the legend have the name, but the battle was actually fought on Breed’s Hill. Prescott had been ordered to put his fortifications on Bunker’s Hill, but had decided that Breed’s Hill was a better defensive position, despite being lower, less steep to climb, and much closer to the British positions. The monument is at the site of the battle, but despite the name, it’s Breed’s Hill, not Bunker’s Hill.
The Bunker Hill Monument is 221 feet tall and was completed in 1843. There’s an obvious comparison to the Washington Monument in Washington, completed in 1884, which at 555 feet is two and a half times taller.
Legend has it that, due to the severe shortage of gunpowder and musket balls that the American troops had, Prescott gave his troops the famous order, “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes!” While it’s true that the Americans held their fire until the British were quite close (and then shot at the officers first in order to cause chaos), the “whites of their eyes” order was never given. It’s a fiction, created much later to dress up the story.
It’s an impressive monument for an American defeat, especially with all of the incorrect information regarding the battle itself. What is undeniably true about the battle is that it proved to the British that this minor uprising of a few malcontents was going to be much more widespread and difficult. It was going to be a much, much longer battle than they expected, and it was going to cost them far more than they would ever have believed.
Unlike the Washington Monument, where you get up and down by elevator (there are stairs, but they’ve been off-limits for decades), you get to the top of the Bunker Hill Monument by climbing the stairs. Two hundred and ninety-four steps. The stairwell is steep and narrow. You are warned, repeatedly, by park rangers at the bottom, that you really need to make sure you want to make the climb and you’re physically in shape to make the climb. There was a charming young lady there, maybe in her mid to late 20’s, who asked me if I really knew what I was getting into, suggested that I not climb, and then gave me that smug, silent, “Reallllly?” look.
Of course I’m in good enough shape! Maybe I was over fifty and carrying a few pounds that I would like to lose, but had I not just walked the entire Freedom Trail? Am I not a macho, stud muffin of a manly man?
Though. I. Was. Going. To. DIE!
The worst part was the tweens and teens scampering by me like they were floating. Rotten little brats. (The climb really isn’t that bad if you’re in reasonably good shape, but your thighs will be feeling it if you’re not used to hill climbing or using the StairMaster.)
Perseverance will give you some great views back toward Boston. There’s a somewhat cramped observation floor at the top, with windows looking out in all four directions. You can look down on Logan Airport to your east, inland toward Cambridge and Harvard, or north toward the Mystic River area and Malden. Here you can see the downtown area to the south, with the spire of the Old North Church visible on the far left side, just across the Charles River.
Having survived the Bunker Hill Monument (it’s a lot easier climbing down than it is up, and my smug “told you so!” look at the park ranger there wasn’t quite as effective as I wanted since I was sweating like a pig), it was time to head back toward Boston. In theory I could have called a cab – but where’s the fun in that?! I had to get back to meet with The Long-Suffering Wife after she got out of her conference, so I took far fewer pictures on the way back and concentrated on making tracks.
Which, of course, is not to say that I took no pictures on the way back. Just before crossing back over the river into North Boston I found City Square Park, which is a new-ish, one-acre park created early in “The Big Dig.” The Big Dig was a highway project that took over 20+ years and over $22B in an attempt to expand the freeways cutting through the heart of the city by burying them under the existing skyscrapers and houses. (The word “boondoggle” is thrown about quite a bit, and many Bostonians will still start twitching a bit when you mention it.) Directly under City Square Park are some of the freeway tunnels and connecting ramps between US Highway 1 and Interstate 93.
The park is full of all sorts of sculptures, many of fish and other odd creatures. I found them to be extremely fun and whimsical. I also found some quiet and shade and a place to sit for ten minutes. (My thighs were still feeling the whole 294-steps thing.) This fountain and weather vane are in the center of the park.
While there, I also talked to some of the local residents, one of whom was nice enough to take my picture. Of special note are the pasty-white legs, the Angels hat (just to provoke a response), my favorite white-water rafting T-shirt (“The orange vest doesn’t make you safer, just easier to find”), the sacred sunglasses, and the backpack that’s been ’round the world a couple of times carrying my cameras.
Compare this outfit to the slightly more hideous one I displayed while being a tourist in Shanghai. Same hat, glasses, shoes, pasty white, and backpack, but obviously when I want to look like a “classy” tourist I wear a Hawaiian shirt instead of a T-shirt!
Go see Boston, walk the Freedom Trail. Also go to a game at Fenway, see the Boston Pops outside, got to Harvard Square, go down to Quincy to see all of the John Adams sites, go out to Cape Cod. It’s a great city.
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 