From the Court-house, Mr. Quincy took me to the Athenæum, where the principal journals of the United States are found, and a library of about twenty thousand volumes, which were partly presented and partly purchased. A regular librarian showed us every thing; we noticed particularly several interesting medals, and the collection made by Thomasson in Birmingham, which represents the Elgin marbles. In the vestibule of the house, and in the large reading room, are plaster busts, which Lawyer Thorndike brought from Rome and presented to the Athenæum. The handsome house itself, which is valued at twenty thousand dollars, was given to the society by Mr. Perkins, a brother of the celebrated mechanician in London.
Some days later, August 2, Mr. Quincy had the politeness to show me several hospitals of the city.
The civil hospital was founded about twenty years ago, and is a massive building of granite, with ten Ionic columns of the same stone. The building, founded by voluntary subscriptions, and afterwards enriched by legacies, now supports itself by the interest of the capital and by fees which some patients pay. The administration of the hospitals and other benevolent institutions, is conducted, without charge, by the principal inhabitants, in a very correct and economical manner. The house has a cellar, two stories besides a ground floor, and may contain about eighty sick of both sexes, which are placed in different wings of the building. There were at that time fifty-six patients, under the care of six nurses and a matron. The house is under the direction of a steward, who is at the same time a physician. Those patients who pay ten dollars a week, occupy separate chambers, with separate attendants; others pay only three dollars a week, and many nothing at all. The latter are all in the same halls, which, however, are very light and well ventilated. The sick sleep on beds of hard wood, with good hair mattresses and very fine bed clothes. The steps are of granite, the halls and chambers are planked, and the floors are painted with oil colours. I have seen many hospitals, but none in which the sick were so conveniently and suitably lodged, and none in which cleanliness was so well observed. The kitchen and wash-house are in the cellar. In the former, the victuals are cooked by means of steam, and the latter is arranged like that in the Plymouth Marine Hospital, namely, with very large wooden frames to dry the clothes. The session room of the directors, the anatomical theatre, with some chambers for sick, are in the first story; the dwelling of the matron, and the remainder of the chambers for patients, are arranged in the second story. Two reservoirs of water, which may be raised by pumps, should a fire break out, are situated on the ground floor. Mr. Coolidge, one of the directors, accompanied us, and conducted us also to the lunatic asylum, which is under the same directors.
This building stands on an eminence between Cambridge and Charlestown. A farm-house has been purchased in the neighbourhood, which serves as the dwelling of the steward and head physician, as well as for a kitchen and wash-house. Behind this house two very solid wings have been built, three stories high, one for males, and the other for females. They somewhat resemble prisons, but are concealed by the farm-house, which has a very pleasing aspect, and thus prevents the unpleasant sensations which the institution would otherwise excite in the minds of the unhappy lunatics when they first approach it. A large garden, surrounded with a wall, is attached to each wing, serving as a place of recreation for the patients. A well-lighted corridor runs along each story, at each side of which are the doors of the cells; in these nothing is placed but a wooden bedstead, as in the hospital. Every story has an eating room, and a common hall; in the latter, in which the sick may pass the day, a table is placed with benches, which are nailed to the floor. The infuriated are placed in solitary cells, and when they cannot be subdued, are brought under a cold shower bath. The chambers are heated, as in the hospitals, by means of flues. In this asylum also, in which there were forty patients, the greatest cleanliness prevailed.
On the 3d of August, Mr. Quincy called for me at twelve o’clock, to introduce me, with Captain Ryk and Mr. Tromp, to the elder Mr. Adams, father of the present president. This worthy old man, who was ninety years old, and a signer of the Declaration of Independence, lives ten miles from Boston, on his farm at Quincy, revered by his family, and honoured by the whole nation, who regard him as their common father. I was much affected when, as I approached this venerable man who had so efficiently laboured in the cause of American independence, he extended to me his hand. He was still in full possession of his mental faculties, and remembered, not only the things which had occurred long ago, but knew also every thing which had recently taken place, or was now passing. His bodily strength, however, was diminishing, and he felt a weakness, particularly in his legs. He conversed with me about half an hour, especially concerning Holland, where he had been ambassador during the revolution, and the features of his ancient countenance revived again as he dwelt on the fact, that it was owing to him that Holland then declared war against England, and the English ambassador, notwithstanding all his intrigues, could effect nothing. When Mr. Tromp was introduced to him, he remembered his great ancestor, shook his hand in a friendly manner, was much affected, and said to him, “God bless you, Van Tromp!” We left this worthy old man in deep emotion, and congratulated each other on our good fortune in having been introduced to this departing veteran of a revolution, which may well be called salutary.
In his house we saw several good portraits and busts of him, portraits of his wife, who died seven years ago, of his son, the president, and of General Warren, who fell at Bunker’s Hill. We saw also a son of President J. Q. Adams, who is a lawyer at Boston, and with whom I became acquainted some days ago in the Athenæum.
From Boston to Quincy there is a good turnpike road. It runs over some hills, on which the traveller sees a handsome panorama; behind him the city, on the left the bay, in front a well-cultivated region with handsome farms, on the right the Blue Hills. We passed by several neat farm-houses; the grounds are separated by means of dry walls, the stones of which are partly hewn, and separated from each other, somewhat like those of Scotland. No old trees are found, because the first settlers very imprudently destroyed all the wood, and now it must be raised again with much trouble. Lombardy poplars, and plane trees are frequent. The inhabitants generally appear to be in good circumstances, at least the farmers seem to prosper, and the houses appear to great advantage, for instance, we remarked a common village blacksmith shop, which was built of massive granite. At the very neat village of Miltonbridge we passed over the river Neponset, which is navigable for small vessels.
Quincy contains about four thousand inhabitants, and has assumed this name in honour of the mayor’s family, which is here much beloved and esteemed. Mr. Quincy’s country seat, to which we repaired from the house of the ex-president, is about two miles distant from the latter, and lies in the neighbourhood of the sea on a small eminence, from which there is a very handsome prospect towards the bay. Mr. Quincy introduced us to his family, to his wife, two sons, and four daughters. The eldest daughter is very accomplished, and excels in painting landscapes in sepia. Some years ago she visited the Falls of Niagara with her family, and sketched several views. The other daughters are also very well educated, and have a talent for music. We met here several gentlemen from Boston, among others, Mr. Shepherd, Mr. Everett, and President Kirkland, from Cambridge, who was accompanied by an aged English teacher, Mr. Cooper, who fled from England with Priestley, thirty-five years ago, and now directs Columbia College in South Carolina. He appeared to be a gloomy, austere man, and very different in his address from the humane and friendly manner of Dr. Kirkland. Towards evening we returned to Boston by a shorter road, and passed the Neponset by means of a long wooden bridge, which Mr. Quincy built not far from the place where it empties into the sea. We then passed through Dorchester, and saw on an eminence to the right the remains of two redoubts, built by the English, which the great Washington took from them, strengthened, and thus principally contributed to the evacuation of Boston.
I accompanied, August 4th, a party to a Mr. Nathaniel Amory; we passed over the long mill-dam, which cuts off a part of the water surrounding Boston, and is to be filled up in time, and houses built on it. Six miles from the city is a wooden bridge over Charles river, which we crossed to see the arsenal on the opposite side. This establishment was built in 1816. A long yard, surrounded with a wall of granite, is attached to the chief arsenal, which is three stories high,