Arden Press of Philadelphia

History of Independence Hall (1859)

By D.W. Belisle

Summary
This book, originally published in 1859, provides a comprehensive history of Independence Hall.

Table of Contents
Original Dedication
Preface
Introductory
Chapter 1 Incentive Associations
Chapter 2 Primitive Settlers and Public Edifices
Chapter 3 The Old State House
Chapter 4 Independence Square
Chapter 5 The Old State House Bell
Chapter 6 Washington's Statue
Chapter 7 Alexander Hamilton
Chapter 8 Convention of 1776
Chapter 9 The Declaration Of Independence
Chapter 10 Remarks on the Declaration
Chapter 11 John Hancock
Chapter 12 Thomas Jefferson
Chapter 13 Richard Stockton
Chapter 14 Dr. Josiah Bartlett
Chapter 15 Samuel Adams
Chapter 16 William Whipple
Chapter 17 John Adams
Chapter 18 William Huntington
Chapter 19 Oliver Wolcott
Chapter 20 Robert Treat Paine
Chapter 21 Philip Livingston
Chapter 22 Francis Lewis
Chapter 23 John Witherspoon
Chapter 24 Robert Morris
Chapter 25 Elbridge Gerry
Chapter 28 Francis Hopkinson
Chapter 29 Charles Carroll, Of Carrollton
Chapter 30 John Hart, Abraham Clark, John Morton, George Clymer
Chapter 32 Cæsar Rodney, George Read, Thomas M'kean, Samuel Chase, Thomas Stone, Wm. Paca.
Chapter 33 William Floyd, Lewis Morris, William Williams, Matthew Thorton, Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery, Roger Sherman
Chapter 34 George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton
Chapter 35 Edward Rutledge, Thomas Hayward, Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton
Chapter 36 Burton Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton
Chapter 37 William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn
Chapter 38 Washington's Pew
Chapter 39 Franklin's Desk
Chapter 40 A Singularly Historical Chair
Chapter 41 The Triumphal Arch
Chapter 42 The Bible In 1776
Chapter 43 The Charter Oak
Chapter 44 Old Documents
Chapter 45 Portrait Of Washington Woven In Silk, And Other Interesting Mementoes
Chapter 46 Conclusion

Publication Details

Dedication

To the Hon. Millard Fillmore, Ex-President of the United States, whose untiring zeal and efforts in promoting the national welfare, are gratefully appreciated by the descendants of those patriots who made Independence Hall the shrine of American freedom, this volume is respectfully dedicated by the author.

Preface

Independance Hall! How Impressive are the associations that cluster around this sacred Temple of our national freedom! They inspire the thoughtful patriot with veneration - they enhance devotion to the institutions of our country. As we gaze upon the portraits of those stern old heroes who declared that "these united Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States," our minds go back to, and are busy with, events that signalized the "times that tried men's souls." In the reflective mirror of retrospection we behold them in solemn council deliberating upon the momentous issues that called them together - we hear the thunders of their eloquence ringing around the walls of this consecrated chamber - we see their eyes flash with earnest desire of liberty, and their brows lower with contempt at the aggressive despotism of King George. These silent representatives of the past still speak to us in unmistakable patriotism, while we pay homage to the Cradle of American Liberty, bidding us preserve and keep sacred the costly inheritance bequethed by them. When we consider the sacrifices they made - the trials they endured - the privations they suffered - the struggles through which they passed - and remember that they were passing those fiery ordeals to secure the blessings of independence for us - how can we look upon their sublime features without properly respecting their efforts? We should feel that these patriots of the Revolution scrutinize our thoughts and actions from the canvas upon which they are made immortal.

The venerable appearance of the Hall itself has an awe-inspiring sanctity about it that makes us realize we are treading hallowed ground - while the carefully arranged relics and mementos excite our inquiry and deeply interest our thoughts. Everything about the room teems with historical reminiscences. Every relic in this sacred Gane has some historical peculiarity worthy of our profound veneration. Yet, thousands upon thousands visit Independence Hall - pass hours in looking at and examining the relics there, more from idle curiosity than otherwise, and consequently return to their homes little better versed in the histories connected with them than they were before. The principal reason for this is, that they can obtain nothing to aid them in acquiring the information they may need in this respect.

For the purpose, therefore, of obviating this disadvantage, and, in order to furnish an authoritative history of Indepependence Hall, with accurat descriptions of all its contents, we have placed before the public, in this work, the result of many years' labor among the dusty records of past incidents respecting Independence Hall. We have not sought to make it a mere Guidebook - the magnitude of interests which all feel in this, the Mecca of our country's greatness, forbade us adopting such a plan - our object has been to give it a high-toned national character; to place in the hands of our patriotic countrymen facts connected with the causes that led to the prosperous condition of our free and happy land - and to inspire a deeper love for the sacred Temple wherein our nation's infancy was cradled and defended. In the prosecution of this arduous task, we have consulted sufficient standard authorities to give our work reliable accuracy in every particular, and we return our thanks to such friends as they have aided us - likewise we are indebted to Mr. Lossing, for many facts concerning the signers of the Declaration of Independence.

The places which beneficent spirits have sanctified remain hallowed to all time; and, while we contemplate the Hall where the actors in the great drama of the Revolution performed their most stupendous work, we feel the force of the language of Horace, Privatus illis cencus erat brevis, commune magnum, and bow meekly in adoration to their exalted virtues.
D. W. Belisle
Camden, New Jersey

Introductory

"The places sanctified by beneficent spirits," says Schiller, "remain hallowed to all time" - they are still sacred, though invaded by robbers. They are invested with associations calculated to inspire the thoughtful with sentiments of veneration - top awaken feelings of patriotism - to strengthen researches after historical incidents, and to revitalize heroes and statesmen whose actions gave character to the scenes of their exhaltation, and the ages in which they flourished. Thoughts obtrude on the reflective mind, and peculiar emotions swell the heart, as sensitively refined patriots and scholars contemplate fields whereupon heroes struggled, and on which victories have been achieved. To such the powers of local association address themselves with awful impressiveness. It was this that led Cicero, when he visited Athens, to exclaim:

"Shall I ascribe to it a new law of our nature, or to a delusive habit of mind, that, when we look upon the scenes which illustrious men of old frequented, our feelings are more deeply excited than even by hearing the record of their deeds, or perusing the works of their genius? such are the emotions I now experience, when I think that here Plato was accustomed to discourse; these garden around me not only recall the idea of that sage to my memory, but place, as it were, his very form before my eyes. Here, too, Speusippus taught - here Xenocrates - here his disciple Polemon: this is the very seat he used to occupy."

Similar emotions seized the feeling of Dr. Johnson when he arrived at Ocolmkill, in his "Tour to the Western Islands." A retrospective view of the incidents which had occurred around him in ages far remote, elicited the beautiful sentiment :

"We are now treading upon that illustrious Island which was once the luminary of the Caldonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible if it were endeavored, and foolish if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of the senses - whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future, predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us, indifferent and unmoved, over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force on the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not glow warmer among the ruins of Iona."

Associations such as these have been surrounded with irresistible attractions to the cultivated and reflective of all ages, and the best writers of antiquity have feelingly alluded to them. "They snatch the soul away in rapture, as if it had already traversed the tomb, and on the bosom of immensity imbue it with the inexhaustible glories which Jehova has diffused through the universe." Germanicus wandered amidst the ruins of Athens, and looked with veneration upon its moldering architectural piles; Atticus felt an undefined reverence when he paused among its tombs an monuments; in the swelling emotions of patriotic zeal, Julian shed tears on quitting its grove and bowers; and so awe-inspiring were the associations that came gushing to the memory of Leo Allatries, that he wept over the ruins of a house once in the possession of Homer.

And our own great statesman of the North, Daniel Webster, felt its power when he exclaimed: "We shall not stand unmoved on the shore of Plymouth, while the sea continues to wash it; nor will our brethren in another and ancient colony [Jamestown] forget the place of its first establishment, till their river should cease to flow by it. No vigor of youth, no maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the spots where its infancy was cradled and defended."

Again: in the work De Finibus of Cicero, is the following remarkable passage: "Often, when I enter the Senate house, the shades of Scipio, of Cato, and of Laelius, and in particular, of my venerable grandfather, rise to my imagination." All great and refined intellects experience similar emotions, when meditating upon the same or similar important and thought-inspiring localities. Hence the remark of Southey: "He whose heart is not excited upon the spot which a martyr has sanctified by his sufferings, or at the grave of one who has largely benefited mankind, must be more inferior to the multitude by his moral, than he can possibly be raised above them in his intellectual nature."

Almost every great advantage which mankind have derived even from science and education, had an origin in some local incident. Gibbon informs us that, "it was in the church of St. Maria d'Ara Celi, on the Capitoline Hill, at Rome, on the fifteenth of October, 1764, as he sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted friars were singing vespers, the idea of writing the decline and fall of the city first started to his mind." The thoughtful traveler, who perambulates the subterranean streets of Pompeii, is filled with associations of the most thrilling character. He remembers that that city was well stricken in years when the Light of divine truth first dawned upon the world, and the "Sun of Righteousness arose with healing in his wings" - that it is a city which lay entombed for two thousand years, while nations passed and repassed over its monuments - and that for centuries its sculpted figures, its domes and palaces remained in well-preserved condition beneath the surface of the earth.

He remembers, too, that, within its walls, along its avenues and streets, the ever-surging tide of humanity, with all its hopes and aspirations, its joys, its sorrows, once swept with unrestrained hilarity, unconscious that a doom of fearful magnitude impended over their city! There, too, he sees the temple, with its Doric columns yet standing, its walls painted with emblems commemorative of the services of their deity, the sacred vessels, lamps, and table of Isis still remaining. And while he is contemplating these monuments of the past, and memory hurries backward in its rapid gyrations, he might exclaim as a contemporary of Augustus:

"I greet thee, oh my country! My dwelling is the only spot upon the earth which has preserved in form; an immunity extending even to the smallest objects of my affections. Here is my couch, there are my favorite authors. My paintings, also, are still fresh as when the ingenious artist spread them over my walls. Let us traverse the town; let us visit the drama. I recognize the spot where I joined for the first time in the plaudits given to the fine scenes of Terence and Euripides. Rome is but one vast museum; Pompeii is a living antiquity."

He likewise recalls the sad but truthful picture which Pliny gives in regard to the destruction of its inhabitants. "A darkness suddenly overspread the country - not like the darkness of a moonless night, but like that of a closed room, in which the light is of a sudden extinguished - women screamed, children moaned, children cried; here children were anxiously calling their parents, and there parents were seeking their children, or husbands their wives; all recognizing each other only by their cries. Many wished for death, from the fear of dying. Many called on the gods for assistance; others despaired of their existence, and thought this the last, eternal night of the world. Actual dangers were magnified by unreal terrors. The earth continued to shake, and men, half distracted, to reel about, exaggerating their own fears and those of others, by terrifying predictions." All these come up rapidly succeeding each other in living realities, and invest that city, that awe-inspiring mausoleum of antiquity, with associations too hallowed to be resisted.

Similar emotions imperceptibly steal over the soul, as we wander among the ruins of Athens; for there we read, on her sculptured columns, her original glory as the mistress of Greece, and remember the period when she stood forth a towering prodigy of perfection to the gaze of an admiring world. what Greece was in her power - what Tyre appeared in the perfection of her greatness - mighty Athens was in the days of Pericles. Then it was that she, with her three ports, the lashing of the waves of which had so often blended with the vesper-chants, connected by her celebrated walls, formed one vast closure of ponderous fortifications. The Acropolis arose in her midst, a massive rock, upon the summit of which were collected some of the noblest monuments of Grecian taste - rearing itself in lofty splendor toward the heavens, "gleaming with its crest of columns on the will of man," as though they had been placed upon "a mount of diamonds."

It was there that the Arts and Sciences were not only cradled, but were carried to as great a height of perfection as was ever known in the ancient world. In a word, it was a sanctuary of the Arts, the residence of the gods, a place of sepulchres, altars and shrines for sacred relics, "and peopled with forms that mocked the eternal dead in marble immortality." Peaceful olives crowned its outskirts. There, too, arose the princely Propylon, the splendid Erectheum, and the lofty Odeum, exhibiting in perfect unity that simplicity, grandeur and magnificence to which only Grecian arts and Grecian taste ever attained. And there arose the sublime Parthenon, affecting the admiration of the astonished beholder as a production of the Deity rather than the art of man - a mighty fabric of sculpture, in which the human form shone deified by paganism, as the virtues do by Christianity.

In her silent halls were assembled the poets, gods and goddesses, heroes and heroines, "while beauty in eternal sleep, seemed dreaming of herself." It also contained the statue of Minerva, in which the sculptor appears to have made the immortal spirit of the goddess speak through the cold and lifeless marble. And there was the Areopagus, where the seats of the judges - the arena within which the Apostle Paul entered, and in his wonted eloquence proclaimed to Greece's wisest sons the only and true God, and at the sound of whose voice, even the gods themselves trembled! Opposite this was the scene of the patriotic exertions of the Athenian orator; a rock was the bema upon which Demosthenes stood while addressing the populace in those fervid strains of eloquence:

Athens sat then amid her vine-clad hills and olive-wilds, a sceptred queen. The nodding promontories and blue hills, the cloud-like mountains and lonely valleys of Greece, smiled beneath the genial rays of her disseminating influences. But, alas! how the mighty are fallen! The birth-place of heroes, and the home of bards, is among the places that live only in history and monuments. Fire and embattled hosts have spread wide their withering desolations over this once fair city, blotting out the glowing footsteps of her ancient greatness. Time has trampled into dust her columned piles, and "like a famished beast of prey, satiated his lust to sickness upon beauty's corse." The Turk now roams lawlessly among her ruins, while the spirit of beauty broods over her fallen grandeur. Where once rose the fount of wisdom and sounded the wings of power, ignorance and weakness now prevail. As the roaring and tumbling torrent falls from its dazzling Alpine height, so ruin's current has drown her towering greatness. "She is now a defenseless urn - the abode of gods whose shrines no longer burn." Slaves are in her senate, and beggars compose her nobility, while the stars that once illuminated her halls of wisdom shine through their rents of ruin.

Gloom - the gloom of desolation - has let down her mantling pall, and broods over a nation's sepulchre. As the moon lights up her broken statues, they appear like pallid phantoms steadfastly watching the current of Time that proved their ruin. The old olive trees which shaded the borders of the Acropolis, now wave in the midnight shade - a noble wreck in ruinous perfection. The spirits of her departed great ones seem to mourn her desolation. "The stork plumes his wings upon a shattered shaft of the Acropolis, while the colonade of Lysicrates stands in the isolated relic of her former grandeur." The night winds pipe her requiem - hooting owls and the viper chant her funeral obsequies. In truth, Athens stands bereft of all her glory, the weeping Niobe and the Lost Paradise of Greece! Yet, honor decks her heroes' dust, and ruined splendor still lingers around her.

Such are the melancholy reflections suggested by the local associations of Athens. We might profitably explore those of Rome, Palmyra, Tyre, and indeed every other renowned city of antiquity; but we turn to our own country to examine its sacred relics and shrines; for here,

Deeply did the poet feel the power of such influences when he penned this eloquent comparative interrogatory:

In contemplating the progress and greatness of our own nation, the imagination is carried back to the "times that tried men's souls," and the scenes of forensic and physical struggle. Thus, while we stand upon the "Rock of Plymouth," the history and sufferings of the Pilgrims rush impetuously on the memory, and we remember, that, it was when the dark woods and dreary mountains were covered with snow - the gushing brooks and bounding streams congealed and fettered with ice - and cerements of desolation appeared spread over the earth, this Rock - this Mecca of Freedom - was consecrated to immortality by the landing, the prayers, the thankfulness, and the sufferings of that little band! Their feet made the first impressions of civilization on that bleak and sterile coast - their prayers were the first oblations offered from that dismal shore, and their tears were the first of human sorrow shed upon that frozen soil! The country around them was wild and forbidding; scenes new and strange were presented to their view, and amidst circumstances so pregnant with discouragement, many an anxious thought did they send back to the country they had left, and many a wish to return involuntarily took possession of their minds. We almost see them engaged in constructing rude huts to shelter themselves from the howling winds, and know that, in these miserable and wretched hovels, those of them who survived passed that fearful winter.

But suffering and death had not been idle among them! Before the winter closed, and spring, with her wild buds and flowers had returned, half their number had perished by continued suffering and the privation of those comforts, so necessary to health and life which they had been accustomed to enjoy! The participants in those scenes have long since passed away, but the records of their deeds remain to invest the spot of their exaltation with thrilling associations. "We cannot stand unmoved on the shore of Plymouth, while the sea continues to wash it;" the spot is consecrated to memory by endearing recollections. The work of Science and Art are now busy there - massive columns and impenetrable walls encroach upon its hallowed precincts - lofty spires and glittering turrets smile over that first burial-ground of our country - the white sails of commerce swell majestically in the breeze on the bay hard by - the shout of joy and the beaming eye of hope leap up, while the genius of Liberty waves her aegis over that sacred locality. We remember also, while standing there, that almost within sight of the very spot where the Pilgrims landed, in old "Pilgrim Hall," are yet preserved the records of their first winter on that dreary island, in their own handwriting - the plates on which they ate their simple food; and we feel the spot to be a shrine at which all may worship while drinking in those hallowed associations peculiar to our country and its institutions.

But if such localities excite our admiration and inspire our patriotism - if our feelings are moved at the remembrance of deeds performed on the soil where the battles of freedom have been fought - if a spirit of reverence irresistibly swells the heart on visiting the altars of Liberty, and the places whereon our forefathers struggled - what will be our emotions when we stand within the consecrated walls of Independence Hall? A spot sanctified by events of a holy and extraordinary character - the Forum of exalted debate - the arena of the purest thought - the birth-place of American Freedom, Independence, and Nationality? A place so sacred, blessed by so many beneficent spirits, and surrounded by such enduring associations, might well be designated the "Star Chamber" of Liberty. For here are still preserved relics of those brave spirits who dared to combat the powers of despotism, as well as the bell used on the Fourth of July, 1776, to sound the first notes of "Liberty throughout the land, and to all the people thereof [This is a scriptural motto, and may be found in the twenty-fifth chapter of Leviticus, and the tenth verse.].

Here was promulgated the charter which incorporated the colonies into a nation of freemen, and declared a separation from the mother country. Invested with forms and reminiscences of the past, it is one of the most awful and soul-inspiring theatres which the contemplative mind can explore; it spreads a mystic charm over the aspirations - leads the thoughts back through the archives of the past, and repaints the master spirits who figured within its sacred precincts in the dark days of our country's history. "If other battle-fields are interesting in their associations, what shall we say of this? What history, what picture can ever tell the half of what is suggested to every intelligent and susceptible mind, on entering this venerable edifice? Who is not immediately carried back to that day, thenceforth memorable forever, when an awful stillness pervaded the assembly for a few moments previous to the voting that 'these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States? What devotion then filled this consecrated place, and rose to heaven in silent prayer for firmness, unanimity, and deathless resolve! One almost hears Hancock suggesting to Franklin - 'We must all hang together now!' 'Yes,' re-echoes the characteristic response of that plain old Nestor of patriots, 'we must indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.' " Yes, and we, too, can almost see John Hancock, when he appended his signature to that memorable document which gave freedom to the American colonies, and hope to a world in chains, rise from his seat, and in a tone of manly boldness exclaim: "There, John Bull can read my name without spectacles, and may now double his reward of L500 for my head. That is my defiance."

So inspiring were the associations and scenes connected with this Hall, that when Richard Penn first came to this country, and was shown by Samuel Coates the trees about the State House, planted by the contemporaries of his father, during the infancy of the nation, and which stood still there when our manhood and independence were asserted, the crowd of associations which pressed upon his mind made him raise his hands in ejaculatory thanks, and his eyes to fill with tears. But Independence Hall, the great battle-field whereupon our fathers met the British Parliament, in its most august display of oratorical talent, braved the great kingdom with all its consolidated strength, and won the day under the most fearful odds, yet remains.

A writer who appreciated these associations, has feelingly said, "The heroes, indeed, are departed, but here before us is still open their scene of action. Death has claimed them, but war and wasting elements have spared the theatre of their stupendous struggles. We can go and meditate there, gazing at the places where they sat, the floor on which they stood, the windows through which the bright sun looked in smilingly upon their sublime transactions, and may touch the walls, which seem yet to vibrate to the thunders of their eloquence."

The genius of Liberty, and the spirits of those noble men who braved the storms of monarchical usurpation, preside with awful imperiousness on the altars of this consecrated structure - invisible guardians watch over it, to protect its sacred relics from desecration - while Mercy and Justice, twin sisters of heaven, support the star-gemmed emblem of republican purity above its hallowed shrines! Awe-inspiring as are the historical incidents connected with it, and impressive as are the reminiscences which are called into lively existence on reading the proceedings of that Convention which promulgated the declaration of human rights, thrice grand and beautiful is the mausoleum left to remind us of their labors. Ages may come and depart - nations may rise and fall - empires may spring into existence and cease - time may deface these sacred mementos; but their associations will remain to inspire patriotic hearts, so long as the thoughts of Freedom burn, and Hope's beacon blazes out over the darkness of the earth, or the confederated institutions of the land of WASHINGTON are preserved to ameliorate the condition of humanity in bondage and chains.

Chapter 1 Incentive Associations

Localities whereon valorous deeds have been accomplished can never be blotted from pages of truthful history. They will still live, though the actors in such achievements have long since been gathered with the heroic to augment the ranks of the mighty dead. The external appearances of such localities may suffer from change and the onward progress of time, but their associations can never decrease in value to the sensitive mind. Sculptured columns may crumble from temples which have withstood the storms of ages; the skill of the artist become defaced and even erased from their surfaces; but the fragments scattered over the ground in disintegrated masses will still speak of the beauty and symmetry which were theirs. We look upon such relics with sentiments of reverence, for they recall the fact that, in ages far remote, they were prominent supports and ornaments to gigantic edifices, within those halls and council-chambers sat statesmen and patriots in solemn conclave, to deliberate on momentous national affairs. They seem yet to ring with the voice of eloquence and enthusiastic patriotism. Their age excites veneration, because, while we gaze on them, we feel ourselves in the presence of antiquity - living representatives of centuries which had their origin "far back in the dim distance of the past."

Emotions not dissimilar in character come over us when we stand on the Mount of Olives, or visit the scenes of our Savior's ministrations. His labors and sufferings force themselves upon our memories, and His voice still vibrates on the air as He wept over Jerusalem. The Garden of Gethsemane assumes the same melancholy characteristics it did the night He "sweat as it were great drops of blood," while our imaginations behold Him invoking the removal of the bitter cup! We see the cross and the crown of thorns - the sepulchre in which He was laid after the crucifixion - the road which he journeyed with two of his disciples, unknown to them, to Emmaus, subsequent to His resurrection, and our "hearts burn within us" as we picture to ourselves their consternation when they discovered that they had been walking and conversing with their risen Master. The environs of Jerusalem are invested with associations at once solemn and interesting, and their hallowed influences excite the Christian's aspirations and hopes, inspiring him with renewed energy and devotion. He there beholds the Mount of Calvary upon which the Saviour of man propitiated the sins of the world, at the sight of which sacrifice the sun refused to shine, dense darkness covered the earth, the heavens shook, and the battlemented hills were rent asunder. He remembers also the particular incidents connected with that supernatural tragedy - he feels his soul grow warmer, and is ready to exclaim with the Centurion: "Truly this was the Son of God!" In contemplating these localities a vigorous impetus is given to the reflective; and the thoughtful observer receives additional assurances of universal philanthropy.

But Independence Hall is a shrine at which millions of American hearts worship and beat with thrilling intensity; it is a Mecca where unrestricted homage is paid - on whose altars sweet-smelling incense is burned as Liberty's oblation - and to which the jealous yet admiring eyes of every nation are turned. Around its unsullied walls is thrown an enchantment which makes the heart pulsate with burning emotions, and the spirit leap up with sentiments of unconquerable patriotism. Undefined sensations steal irresistible over the senses, while standing in the presence of those mighty men, whose forms still live in "pictured immortality," uniting the present with the past, and recalling their sublime transactions.

The very atmospheres seems redolent of their greatness, and still vibrates with the voice of their eloquence, while the gray walls reflect the awful purposes of that august convocation! Their unanimity of thought, feelings, sentiments, and actions, indicated the sublime objects for which they were assembled. They had felt, in common with their fellows, the iron hand of despotism, and knew how hard it was to endure its oppressions. They had experienced outrage and wrong - had borne for years, with meekness and fortitude, without murmuring, the tyrannical impositions and exactions of the home government - had witnesses the efforts of the colonists to establish manufacturing and commercial enterprises stricken down - had felt the heavy burden of enormous taxation enervating the growth of their respective settlements and exhausting their individual resources - they knew that "taxation without representation" was inimical to republican institutions, and that, when application for redress was made, their petitions were only answered by still more stringent exactions!

They felt that upon them devolved the great responsibility of shaping the future destiny of their country, either for good or evil. They knew that upon them the eyes of their constituents were turned with anxious anticipations, and that the result of their deliberations would lead their countrymen to sanguinary conflict and all its contingent deprivations and sufferings, or subject themselves to the guillotine and gallows! To immolate their own lives upon the altar of their country, as an offering to freedom, in case of failure to accomplish the great aim of the struggling Colonies, was regarded by them as an incentive to subsequent action and for the achievement of future glory! All the great motives relating to a separation between the home government and her oppressed dependencies in America, discussed in private and small assemblages throughout the land, were duly and appropriately considered in this grand convocation of the people's representatives. They felt that a duty of more than ordinary character was to be discharged, for already the clash of resounding arms had thrilled the hearts of the colonists. Their friends in oppression had been shot down at Lexington by British soldiers, and rewards were offered by parliament for the heads of the leaders in the Colonial rebellion.

Taxation, although beyond the endurance in point of severity, was still increased - their humble and respectful prayers for justice were treated with contempt; and the last hope of an afflicted people lay in an implicit confidence in God, the exalted character of their cause, their military prowess and invincibility. No people since the establishment of governments exemplifies a more striking devotion to the authority of their rulers than the colonists, while those rulers tempered their administrations with reason and justice; but no people were more unwilling to submit when prudence and honor were outraged, or their right to govern themselves was called into question. Indignant at the arbitrary disposition of the mother country in refusing them a voice in the enactment of laws affecting their private and colonial interests, they regarded their national dignity insulted, their high and heaven-born prerogatives disallowed - and therefore refused allegiance to an unscrupulous ministry, whose acts of aggression every day became more and more despotic and intolerant.

Such grave considerations operated with convincing weight upon the minds of those reflecting delegates. Hence the important measures which they had adopted, and the direct influences which their deliberative acts had upon the country, in a national point of view. In a social light, the result of their sublime proceedings had a tendency to unite the sentiments of the inhabitants in different states, and to give direction to a system of policy appropriately calculates to enhance their growth and prosperity, as well as to bind in indissoluble bonds of fraternization hearts that were once separated by sectionalism and estrangement. Socially, this was a potent achievement, for it illustrated practically the aphorism that, "in union there is strength." In several States sectional feelings partially alienated the people from each other, but a sense of danger, their common interest and personal safety, led to a confederation of sentiment which linked them together as a "band of brothers," in the cause of self-protection. It was to strengthen this sentiment in a general convocation that the colonies assembled in primary meetings, selected their delegates, and instructed them in reference to the great duties before them, determined, at the same time, that they would abide by whatever measures - be they mild or severe - which their chosen representatives might deem prudent to adopt. Stimulated by the encouraging instructions of their constituency, these delegates repaired to the scene of their exaltation with hearts glowing with patriotism and warm emotion - they knew that a feeling of resistance actuated the masses - and that the ball of reformation when set in motion would continue unabated ab ovo usque ad mala.

They were conscious of the fact that their cause was progressing with ever advancing steps toward ultimate triumph - that it was worse than useless - it would be the veriest madness to oppose it. Its success was no longer problematical - it almost bore the semblance of a fixed fact. Contrary to predictions or ungenerous vilifications, and despite misrepresentations of partisan and kingly adherents, the principles of Freedom were permeating the rural population of the country with a rapidity which augured significantly for the success of the cause. These were some of the effects which the action of this first great Convention of the people's delegates were likely to produce upon the future social condition of the country, by creating a unanimity of sentiment, a free interchange of thought, and a union of policy in their political and religious conduct which would inure to their own safety, and be productive of the greatest good of the greatest number.

Viewed in a national light, they saw and anticipated greater consequences. They realized that the price of liberty was to be eternal vigilance, that "no more truly do rising clouds and rumbling thunders foreshadow gathering storms," than did the indications on every side speak of an approaching national tempest. The signs of the times were dark, fearful, and portentuous! The shadows of the approaching outbreak bent luridly above them, with a warning to prepare for the sanguinary strife! The enemies of liberty were more than usually active - they left no avenue unoccupied which might have made auxilary to their designs - "and stealthily and ruthlessly as the assassin's steel were they driving their death-thrusts at Freedom's heart, and planning destruction to all who gathered around her fair, wide-fluttering standard!" That, then, was no hour for slumbering indifference - no time for supine forgetfulness, of composure and security, when the invading hand of despotism, cunning and malignant, threatened to clutch from them their dearest rights, their most sacred liberties, and lay low beneath unsparing rage and trampling feet, the homes of their affections, the altars at which they worshipped, and seal from their gaze the splendor of that divine truth which has since been illumined in our nation's onward progress, and been the guiding light in its march to elevated worth, prosperity and honor. They realized these truths, and felt how great were their responsibilities! Upon their decision depended the future condition, happiness and prosperity, or servitude and oppression - of the country. War with its destructive concomitants and still greater despotism, or war with its sanguinary struggles and freedom, was to conclude the final vote of that assembly. Either alternative would be dear and difficult - either would cost years of fighting and hundreds of valuable lives. A nation of freemen, possessed of characteristics belonging to independent sovereigns, each in an individual capacity, capable of self-government, was to spring up from their judicious deliberations, or they themselves become martyrs to the cause they represented.

It was no wonder that they were sleepless at their posts - that they kept constantly in their minds the beliefs that "the price of liberty was eternal vigilance," and that he who would successfully combat the sneaking foe must bear the whole armor to the fight, and never falter nor turn his eyes from the thickening contest. Their antagonists were armed - armed for a desperate purpose! The temples they had reared and dedicated for pacific measure - places whose atmosphere should have been fragrant and glowing with the sweetness of peace-offerings and holiness - were made theatres of whispered plottings, repositories of tumult's deadly weapons! These were facts of a startling and threatening character! They addressed themselves with burning intensity to the spirit that actuated those representatives - our forefathers - in that revolutionary struggle, and led to the consummation of the object for which they were called together - the framing of a DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

Chapter 2 Primitive Settlers and Public Edifices

Every nation has some particular, some sacred enclosure, or consecrated building, which they regard as a Mecca or shrine, at which they pay national oblations' and homage. These are generally places where important have culminated advantageously to the reputation and nationality of the people, or where circumstances of vast magnitude have transpired. Sometimes, too, they are rendered sacred by inhumation of the great, or the expiring throes of heroes on ensanguined fields of valor. England has her Westminster Abbey, France her Hotel des Invalides, and the United States - the great American republic - her INDEPENDENCE HALL. The affections of the people of England and France become more elevated at the baptismal shrines of their respective nations, and swell with idolizing patriotic intensity. Pestilence and famine - war with its incidental misfortunes may sweep, like a burning sirocco, millions to the dust - yet their survivors will turn to their holy places as the surest refuge to invoke consolation in hours of calamity and danger.

The American people are no less superstitiously inclined. They regard the sacred building in which their "Declaration of Human Rights" was vitalized and rendered operative, with as much reverence as did the Scandinavians the fabled well of Mimer. They gaze upon its venerable walls and drink deep inspiration - they feel themselves standing in the focus where concentrate the united efforts and influences of a mighty people - or rather in a centre whence radiate scintillations of freedom over a wide and prosperous continent. From its hallowed dome we can look upon the illimitable blue of the world around - can see a fertile country stretching away to a point where ceases the scope of human vision, teeming with every thing calculated to increase happiness and welfare of its inhabitants - we can see the white sails of commerce dotting the noble Delaware, freighted with the products of industry for our transatlantic neighbors, while over the city and over the country hangs a spirit of sublimity and augmenting grandeur. It is not unreasonable, therefore, to suppose that the inhabitants, from the associations which surround them, with all their peculiarities and discrepancies of taste, education, sentiments, private and social habits, national prejudices and preferences, should cling ardently to the early reminiscences of their ancestors. From the mass of mental elements scattered over these fertile regions, is formed a public mind, deep, powerful, and independent, which will retain its own interests with a strength and firmness that cannot be shaken by any other elements or powers.

Over these hills and valleys, yet moist with the blood of the revolution, and consecrated by heroic bravery - no dogmatical forms and ceremonies, conventional creeds and systems, social deferences or distinctions of wealth, can check the bold inspirations of natural freedom - but thought and fancy are free to roan in all the strength and vividness of their character. Amid the florid beauty that waves over these variegated fields, refreshed by the most delicious dews and breezes - amid the associations of youth, sacred domes and puritanical restraint, the spirit seems quickening with new and more expansive powers and susceptibilities, while the sweetest melodies of nature, her multiform beauties, boundless and picturesque displays, combine to enchant the ear, and awaken in the bosom new energies, emotions and enjoyments. There, instead of the narrow streets and pent walls, the dim and smoky atmosphere of larger cities and towns, we may feel ourselves free and invigorated by a pure and fragrant atmosphere, and can gaze with brighter glow of admiration over the expanse of scenes, broad landscapes teeming with spontaneous luxuriance, which strike the view, and make us realize more deeply the harmony that prevails around us. Surely scenes so grand, natural, and free, cannot fail to awaken a more active energy, excite stronger emotions, and inspire the thoughts with bolder or more excursive powers. With such scenes and associations everywhere around this, the cradle of American Liberty, it is not strange that the American people should exhibit a natural pride for, and a strong attachment to, the land of their own and the birth of their forefathers.

Historically considered, Independence Hall presents many interesting features. To the student of archaeology, it is one of the most inspiring buildings in the country; its antiquity excites our veneration; its associations our patriotism! Standing within the room where the Convention of delegates assembled, the American citizen feels surrounded with holy influences - he almost hears the pulsatory throbbings of each member's heart while gravely considering the country's welfare in that Convention - for the occasion was one of awful moment. Every portion of the building is equally sacred - the walls, the ceiling, the carvings, recesses and corners, still ring with the voices of the unforgotten dead.

We remember, while gazing on them, the sore difficulties experienced by the early settlers of Philadelphia, and feel that it is pleasant and instructive to revive and recreate pictures of the incidents which must have engaged them. We can imagine what a bustling, spirited, emulous scene it must have been; and we can transport the mind back to the primitive site of Coaquanock, to witness the busy landing from the ships anchored in the river, of men, women, and children upon the gravelly strand at the foot of the precipitous banks of Dock Creek - the hurrying backward and forward of lighters, discharging from the ships in the stream, the furniture, implements and provisions for their future use - then the efforts of men, women, and children endeavoring to gain the higher river banks. We may also imagine the mingled emotions of such families - how they must have felt an exhilarating effect in inhaling the pure air, after a confined and irksome voyage, among the towering groves of spruce pines, which stretched their umbrageous arms abroad - glad, no doubt, to feel themselves again safe on solid land. Again, we may behold, on the other hand, those newly-arrived settlers, devoid of all the usual comforts and conveniences of civilization, in a gloomy wilderness, without a house or shelter; but with the true spirit of heroic pioneers, impressed with hopes of a glorious and happy future, they set nobly to work to build homes for their wives and children.

And we may, at the same time, feel that some leading member of that Christian community, after piously returning thanks to the Almighty for their safe landing, and asking His blessing on their future efforts, begins himself the good example of the toil before them, like Christian David, the pioneer Moravian settler at Hernhuth, by striking his axe in the first tree, and exclaiming, "Here hath the sparrow found a house, and the swallow a nest for himself - near thine altar, O Lord God of hosts!" Yes - there, in the sweet quietness of the wood, free from the hurries and perplexities of Europe, they could not but remember they were quite removed from persecution,

In imagination we still behold the men and the boys, with their implements for clearing away the forests on their shoulders, starting off to select places for temporary huts, cabins or caves in the side of the hill; and while some excavate the earth, three or four feet, near the margin of the river, others ply the axe to clear the underwood, or to fell trees, whose limbs and foliage were used to supply sides and roofs to their humble dwellings. Again we see others engaged in digging sods, which they employ in forming sides to their huts, and when these are completed, chimneys of grass or kneaded clay are set up, and the house is finished! In the meantime the women have lighted fires on the ground, and "having their kettle slung between two poles, upon a stick transversed," their humble and frugal meal is quickly prepared; all gather around and partake of it with light and happy hearts. Then, each family begins to convey to their new-made residence their goods and furniture, and they all feel settled for a season. Thus their frail hovels became occupied, and the families located close to each other for self-protection; and

And then the busy scene began! No sooner had the surveyor, with much labor, by felling trees and dragging away the brushwood, made an imperfect passage, along which to draw his "lengthening chain," than he formed the "city plot." With what alacrity and earnestness did the men start off to prepare the ground for permanent improvement? The eching wood resounded with the ringing voices of the woodman's axes and the crash of falling trees - the Indians looked on amazed and affrighted at this, the first sounds of civilization that had ever reverberated on their ears. Starting here, and flying there, beasts and birds, were killed in large quantities, and served as excellent food for the people while they were clearing away the deep embarrassments of the soil. "Even the reptiles, deadly and venomous, then first felt the assault of the primeval curse, and the serpent's head was crushed."

So soon as the permanent buildings had been generally started, and the forests disappeared, the rude original outlines of the city - not then as now - began to be apparent, and we may well imagine the cheerful greetings which passed between those pioneers, while contemplating the steady progress each had made. And often, too, we fancy how reciprocally they must have aided each other at their "raisings," and other heavy operations requiring many hands and much physical strength. A mutual dependence upon each other was felt by all. Self-interest and self-protection led to this policy. With that sublime conception of revelation which inspires the heart to live out the precepts of an overruling Providence, they permitted no dissension or evil report to mar the steady progress of their purposes. Thus it was that, not only the solitudes of the wilderness were converted into safe and pleasant retreats, but the rude denizens of the forests themselves were tamed into submission by the superior civilization of the white man. Time passed on, and their little colony spread its dimensions in various directions. Smiling fields, rich with virgin crops, appeared where the "heavy oak and chestnut trees stood."

We remember, too, that, at that time, the first houses lay chiefly south of what was called High - now Market - street, and on the northern bank of Dock Creek - then called the Swamp. At the mouth of this creek was the Ferry from the Blue Anchor Tavern - the place where William Penn first landed in a boat from Chester, when he visited his province in Pennsylvania - leading over to "Society Hill," before the Causeway at Front street was formed. The first bridge, and their then first means of a cart-road leading westwardly, was a wooden structure laid across the water "where the tide ebbed and flowed," at Hudson's alley and Chestnut street. Dock Creek then traversed Fourth and High streets, and Christ Church, and the first Baptist Meeting House. Tradition relates that, at that place an Indian feast was held; and in order to amuse William Penn and exhibit their agility, the Indians performed a foot-race around the entire pond. From Dock Creek at Girard's Bank, diverging in angular directions, ran a water-course through what was subsequently designated "Beak's Hollow," near Sixth and Walnut streets, and terminated in another duck pond. All these places were regarded with peculiar interest by the inhabitants, who, during the summertime, frequently watched the deer, as they came down to drink and eat the "spatterdashes," which grew luxuriantly around their borders.

These ancient reminiscences inspire us with deep emotions, for by them we learn how patiently the founders of the city of Philadelphia toiled amid interposing difficulties to open a way through the deep forests of Pennsylvania for the progress of civilization. Each effort of those struggling pioneers is regarded with peculiar interest, as they were directed toward the establishment of institutions from which should flow the choicest blessings to humanity - the blessings of Freedom and Independence.

Looking at these things through the medium of historical contemplation, we remember that, "as buildings and comforts progressed," the early settlers turned their attentions to Public Edifices, and one of their first measures in this respect was, the erection of a place of worship. This building was known as the Friends' Meeting House. It was built at the Centre Square, and lay far beyond the then verge of population. Frequently when the settlers were following the cart-path from town, they saw it traversed by wild game, deer and turkeys, and often that less welcome visitor, the bear, would show himself to the people. The next public building required was a place of confinement for violators of the peace; and they rented a building from Patrick Robinson for that purpose, until the young city had provided itself with one better adapted for the emergencies of the times. This was soon erected, and was situated on a spot of ground opposite William Penn's Mansion in Letitia court, before which stood "his gate" to the space of ground surrounding it, and before which he made his royal proclamation to the people. Opposite this mansion was then

which were pastured there until fit for market, when they were sold from the movable shambles. Conspicuous, too, was the residence of Edward Shippen, the first mayor of the city, which "surpassed his contemporaries in the style and grandeur of its appurtenances" - for, having crossed the water, he located himself in that venerable building subsequently known as the "Governor's house," but upon the site of which is now situated "Waln's Row," in South Second street, "on the hill near the town, where he had a great and famous orchard, and where he also had a tame deer. His house appeared to have been located on an eminence, for the hill beautifully descended in a green bank in front of his house at Dock Creek, and no intervening object prevented the prospect to the Jerseys and the river." Contemporaneously with these, the citizens erected the first Christ Church, under the supervision of Rev. Mr. Clayton - "a wooden building, of such declining eaves that a bystander could touch them."

Pre-eminent, however, at that period, and often visited as a curiosity and for its grandeur, even then, was the Swedes' Church, with its steeples. This was built upon the site of the old log church in which were "loop-holes" for firearms, as in a block-house, for which purpose it was to have been used in cases of necessity. There was also built a most magnificent structure designated the "State House." The location of this building was at the corner of Second street and Norris' alley, and in 1700 was occupied by William Penn, and is now known as William Penn's house. This building is still standing, and is desecrated by being occupied as furniture and clothing stores. About the same time, Capt. Finny became the purchaser of Samuel Carpenter's Carpenter House, on Second street, near Walnut, which was demolished in 1854, to give room for other improvements. In close proximity to the old proprietors building, were built "the first crane and the first wharves for vessels. The first and only landing places were low and sandy beach on the north side of the Drawbridge, another at the Penny Pothouse, on the north side of Vine street, and the third was a great breach through the high hill at Arch Street, over which an arched bridge extended, (from which circumstance the street took its name), letting carts and people descend to the landing under its arch," But,

we can imagine the condition those hardy pioneers were placed in - the advantages and disadvantages they experienced - how they struggled through misfortune with brave and heroic hearts - how mutually dependent they were upon each other; and how reciprocally they interchanged labor for labor, or for food. None were strangers, and all were friends. There was no distinction of caste; none felt himself superior to his neighbor - and none of those conventional formalities which now make strangers, and oftentimes enemies, of families upon the same soil, in the same city, were felt or practiced by them. What great revolutions have taken place since then!

Another structure which claims our attention, and which excites our patriotic admiration whenever we pass it, is that venerable edifice which stands back from Chestnut street in a little court, known as "Carpenter's Hall." Although ostensibly built for a hall in which the Society of Carpenters could hold their meetings, it is distinguished by the fact that, in it the first Congress of the country met, for the purpose of deliberating upon, and maturing incipient measures in reference to a separation of the colonies from the authority of the mother country. For several years subsequently, however, it was used as the first "Bank of the United States," and is now occupied as an auction-room, where its associations and hallowed inspirations are insulated by the selfish purposes of traffic. The thousands of fashionable citizens who daily throng the sidewalk on Chestnut street, behold in front of this venerable edifice articles of merchandise, and large placards announcing them for sale, and then pass on, regardless of the sacred influences which the Hall is calculated to excite. Often have we, while gazing upon it, and wandering through its apartments, recalled the language and experienced the same emotions of that noble Virginian, whom in 1829, paid the following beautiful tribute to this building:

I write this from the celebrated Carpenter's Hall, a structure that will ever be deemed sacred while national liberty is cherished on earth. It stands in a court at the end of an alley leading south from Chestnut, between Third and Fourth streets. It is of brick, three stories high, surmounted with a low steeple, and presents externally rather a sombre aspect. The lower room, in which the first Congress of the United States (perhaps I should say colonies) met, comprehends the whole area of the building - which, however, is not very spacious. Above are the committee-rooms, now occupied by a very polite school-master, who kindly gave me permission to inspect them. Yes! these sublime apartments, which first resounded with the indignant murmurs of our immortal ancestors, sitting in secret consultation upon the wrongs of their countrymen, now ring with the din of urchins conning over their tasks; and the hallowed hall below, in which the august assembly to which they belonged, daily convened, is now devoted to the use of an auctioneer! Even now, while I am penning these lines at his desk, his voice stuns my ear and distracts my brain, crying 'How much for these rush-bottom chairs? I am offered $5 - nobody more? - going! going!! gone!!'. In fact, the hall is lumbered with beds, looking-glasses, chairs, tables, pictures, ready-made clothes, and all the trash and trumpery which usually grace the premises of a knight of the hammer.

The building, it is gratifying to add, still belongs to the Society of Carpenters, who will by no means part with it, or consent to any alteration. It was here that the groundwork of our Independence was laid - for here it was, on the 4th of September, 1774, after the attempt on the part of 'the mother country' to tax the colonies without their consent, and the perpetration of numerous outrages by the regulars upon the defenseless inhabitants, the sages of America came together to consider of their grievances. Yes! these walls have echoed the inspiring eloquence of Patrick Henry, 'the greatest orator,' in the opinion of Mr. Jefferson, 'that ever lived' - the very man who 'gave the first impulse to the ball of our Revolution!' In this consecrated apartment, in which I am now seated - this unrivaled effort of human intellect was made! - I mark it as an epoch in my life. I look upon it as a distinguishing favor that I am permitted to tread the very floor which Henry trod, and to survey the scene which, bating the changes of time and circumstances, must have been surveyed by him. O, that these walls could speak! - that the echo which penetrates my soul as I pronounce the name of Patrick Henry, in the corner I occupy, might again reverberate the thunders of his eloquence! But he has long ago been gathered to his fathers, and this hall, with the ancient State House of the 'Old Dominion,' I fervently hope may exist for ages as the monuments of his glory.

Allusion has been made to the preceding fugitive scraps of history, only for the purpose of augmenting the interest attached to Independence Hall. As part of the story of this sacred edifice, they must forever remain inseparable. in Carpenters' Hall the first efforts of a struggling people to become free assumed a tangible form - in Independence Hall those efforts culminated to a glorious consummation. In the one, full and emphatic exhibitions of the people's will was vitalized into an unyielding resolve. So that, in whatever light we choose to regard the connection, it contributed largely to the associations which cluster around the sublime reminiscences of the "Cradle" where Liberty was fostered, and from which it grew into vigorous manhood.

Chapter 3 "The Old State House."

This venerable edifice, which excites so much patriotic veneration from the American people, and is regarded with profound esteem abroad, was known until the year 1776, as the "STATE HOUSE." From that memorable period - when the representatives of the nation resolved to be free - the room on the east side of the main entrance has been designated by the appellation of INDEPENDENCE HALL. For wise and patriotic reasons it has never been altered. By that designation it will remain hallowed to all time. So long as a single genuine spark of freedom remains in the human heart, so long will Independence Hall be regarded as the birth-place of liberty - the immortal spot where the manacles of oppression were sundered, and despotism received its most formidable rebuke. The "State House," originally constructed for the purpose of accommodating legal business, the dispensation of Colonial statutes for Pennsylvania, and the transaction of various other matters, was commenced in the year 1729, and completed in 1734. Its dimensions and architectural plan - the design being furnished by an amateur architect, names John Kearsley, Sr., - were regarded by many as too large and expensive; and the erection of the building was, therefore, quite strenuously opposed, Had the men who first conceived the noble enterprise of building it foreseen the exalted character which their contemplated edifice would assume in future, there would not probably have been a single dissenting voice in the liberal plan projected by its founders. It is a singular historical fact, that most of those who opposed the plan of the edifice in the commencement, and who were still living at the time, were opposed to the adoption of the "Declaration of Independence," which occurred within its very walls about a quarter of a century afterward. According to bills and papers kept by Andrew Hamilton, one of the three Commissioners who had the superintendence of the financial matters connected with its construction, it appears that the edifice cost originally $16,250. The two wings which now form important addenda to the building, however, were not erected until the years 1739-40, and increased the total amount to $28,000 - but their cost cannot be counted in the original bill. Watson, in his Annals, says:

"Edmund Woolley did the carpenter work, John Harrison the joiner work, Thomas Boude was the brick mason, William Holland did the marble work, Thomas Kerr, plaster, Benjamin Fairman and James Stoopes made the bricks; the lime was from the kilns of the Tysons. [These kilns were situated in Manship township, Montgomery county, about one mile west from Willow Grove, and fifteen miles from the Hall of Independence. This property has ever since remained in possession of that family. Joseph C. Tyson, Esq., is now owner of the kilns, and carries on the lime business very extensively.] The glass and lead cost L170, and the glazing in leaden frames was done by Thomas Godfrey, the celebrated. I may here usefully add, for the sake of comparison, the cost of sundry items, to wit: Carpenter's work at 4s. per day; boy's 1s.; master carpenter, E. Woolley, 4s. 6d.; bricklaying, by Thomas Boude, John Palmer, and Thomas Redman, at 10s 6d. per M.; stone-work in the foundation, at 4s. per perch; digging ground and carting away, 9d. per yard; bricks, 31s. 8d. per M.; lime per 100 bushels, L4; boards, 20s. per M.; scantling, 1.5 d. per foot; stone, 3s. per perch, and 5s. 5d. per load. Laborers receive 2s. 6d. per day; 2100 loads of earth are hauled away at 9d. per load." These items are only given as specimens of curiosity, and will serve to amuse, if not to instruct.

The wood-work of the steeple by which the building was first surmounted, on examination in 1774, was found to be so much delayed, that it was decided to remove it, and it was accordingly taken down, leaving only a small belfry to cover the bell for the use of the town-clock - which had but one dial-face, at the west end of the building. in that condition it remained until 1829, when the steeple which now crowns the building, was erected on the plan of the original one. Some years ago the interior wood-work to the room in which the "Declaration of Independence" was signed, was removed, for the purpose of modernizing the plans, but public sentiment soon demanded its restoration, and it now presents the same appearance it did that memorable occasion. In 1854, the city Councils of Philadelphia* very patriotically resolved to place in this sacred room - where they properly belong - all the relics associated with the brilliant history of the Hall and the times contemporaneously with the American Revolution, which they could obtain.

* The object of the City Councils in this was, to secure such relics a permanent position in the Hall of Independence, and to afford visitors a source of gratification. Many of these portraits are of inestimable value, and are the only authentic ones of the distinguished persons they represent. They should ensure the respect of every American who desires to look upon the portraits of departed heroes, while they elicit the admiration of strangers and the great from abroad.

With commendable zeal and enterprise they have obtained and arranged in their appropriate places portraits of nearly all the distinguished "Signers of the Declaration of Independence," as well as many other valuable relics, all of which are sacred mementos uniting the present and the past with ligaments of inseverable affection. Hence it is that, when we visit that holy place - that Mecca of freedom's children - that shrine where Liberty's sons and daughters bow in holy reverence - we feel that they eyes of the mighty are gazing upon us, watching our conversation and our national characteristics, to see whether we who enjoy so many rich and glorious privileges, rightly respect and appreciate what they hazarded their lives and enjoyments to effect! There are incidents connected with Independence Hall sufficiently impressive to excite our warmest patriotism. "When the regular sessions of the Assembly were held in the State House," says Watson, "the senate occupied upstairs, and the Lower House the same chamber, since called Independence Hall. In the former, Anthony Morris is remembered as Speaker, occupying an elevated chair facing north - himself a man of amiable mien, contemplative aspect, dressed in a suit of drab cloth, flaxen hair slightly powdered, and his eyes fronted with spectacles. The Representative chamber had George Latimer for Speaker, seated with his face to the west - a well-formed manly person, his fair large front and eyes sublime declared absolute rule." For many years previous to 1855, the upper apartment of Independence Hall was divided into room which were occupied by the Supreme Courts of the United States, and was rented for offices of various kinds. But in that year the municipal authorities had the partition walls which separated the rooms torn away and the apartments tastefully fitted up and appropriated to the use of the City Councils, both branches of which now hold their sessions within its sacred precincts.

When we consider the associations which cluster around this venerable room - how many incidents have occurred here to remind us of our nation's rapid progress from dependent colonies to a great and prosperous empire - how steadily and surely our institutions have given demonstration of the practical workings of a Republican form of Government; we fell constrained to believe that a municipal corporation which has the honorable task of framing codes and ordinances to govern nearly a million of human beings, might act with motives as pure and lofty as those which prompted the member of the Colonial Assembly, who met in the same building, and the same room! But exigencies and extraordinary occasions develop the intellectual abilities of great and good men, while expectation and desire of self-aggrandizement characterize time-serving politicians, whose patriotism is measured by the amount of pelf derived from official preferment. We can scarcely reconcile to our belief that here, within the holy fane where freedom of thought and principle first assumed tangibility; where vitality was given to declarations of ancestral patriots; where germs of the mightiest and most influential nation that ever flourished were sown, any corporate body of men, convened in a representative capacity, could ever act with other than the purest and most patriotic motives. There is something so peculiarly reverential about every portion of this building, so awe-exciting and sacred, that boisterous passions and declamatory partisanism should never mar or desecrate its walls. Not a word ought to ever be uttered here inconsistent with the first expressions of republicanism, promulgated by the founders of the nation. Oh! let this temple remain pure and unsullied from any act calculated to tarnish the fair escutcheon of our country's glory. Let it be kept a shrine where holy thoughts, holy aspirations, and holy deeds are registered; where freedom's children may come and worship, and feel themselves sanctified by the purity of its atmosphere.

Grave and deliberate as were the general purposes, during the early period of the Revolution, to which the "State House" was appropriated in the Colonial days of Pennsylvania, it was on several occasions used as a hall for banqueting. In the long gallery, upstairs, the feasting tables were spread, around which hilarity and mirthfulness prevailed, while the tables themselves were loaded with every desirable luxury which the appetite or inclination might fancy or desire. Soon after the edifice was completed, in 1736, William Allen, Esq., then Mayor of Philadelphia, made a feast at his own expense. This entertainment, which was of a sumptuous and costly character, was spread in the "State House," and the Mayor extended his invitations to all distinguished strangers in the city. The number of invited guests exceeded any at the feasts given in the city on previous occasions, while those who partook of his hospitality expressed their unanimous consent that, "for excellency of fare, it was a most elegant entertainment." On the arrival of their new Colonial Governor, denny, in 1756, while the Assembly was in session, that body gave him a reception dinner, and this feast was likewise spread at the "State House," at which the "civil and military officers and clergy of the city" were present. This entertainment occurred in August, and was an important event during that session of the Assembly. It had a tendency to harmonize various antagonistical personal feelings, which were looked upon as boding no peculiar good to the new administration. again, when Lord Loudon, commander-in-chief of the King's forces in the several colonies, visitied the city in the year 1757, the corporation received him at the "State House" by a grand banquet. general Forbes, who was then commander at Philadelphia and of the southern settlements, was also present on that occasion. Various guests were invited, among whom were officers of rank, gentleman strangers, clergy and private citizens, who partook of those municipal hospitalities. It was remarked by some uninvited guests at the time, that the expenditure for this entertainment was greater than had ever before been made by the authorities for public receptions, which indicated a very early hospitality to such feasts - especially when given at the expense of the public treasury. When in 1774, the first Congress met in Philadelphia, a sumptuous collattion was prepared by the gentleman of the city, for the entertainment of its representatives, the "State House" was selected as the building in which the festive ceremonies should be performed. The members and invited guests congregated first at the "City Tavern,"* and then marched in an imposing procession to the "State House," in the dining hall of which the repast was spread.

*The City Tavern stood on the site of the "Coffee House," and was a distinguished eating restaurant.

About five hundred persons partook of the dinner, and when the toasts were given they were rendered patriotic by the "firing of cannon of martial music." These festive occasions exerted salutary influences upon public sentiment, and had a tendency to develope, in no small degree, political feelings which actuated the people. No doubt the principles promulgated and advocated around the brimful goblet and board, were regarded in a patriotic or disloyal sense, according to the dominant characteristics of leading men, with their adherence to Parliamentary laws, or republican sympathy. Whatever sentiment was toasted and responded to then, was given in the spirit of honesty, and elicited purity of expression. Words were not wasted in declamatory sentences; appeals were not made for idle or pernicious purposes; and intriguing politicians had no unworthy ends to subserve. Every heart was prompted by motives of lofty and patriotic devotion - whether in the cause of the Crown, or against the exercise of its prerogatives. Then, there was no cause for severe animadversion of the manner in which the public business was conducted, which has since afforded plausibility for charges of peculation and corruption. Every act, politically and privately, was performed with an eye single to the entire interest of all concerned. None felt disposed to take advantage of his fellow, or to enhance his personal objects by extortionate exactions from others. By those festivals ties of friendship were strengthened, bonds of mutual enterprise cemented, national measure suggested and frequently adopted. Deliberate and calm discussion of various topics connected with governmental affairs, gave power and character to the purposes for which such scenes of friendly greeting were given, and assisted in forming a deep and strong attachment to their country and their homes.

Notwithstanding the fact, that Independence Hall is regarded as a most sacred shrine of Liberty, in days of yore it was used for various purposes - some of which illy comported with the true character of the building. Mr. Watson says: "For many years the public papers of the Colony, and afterward of the City and State, were kept in the east and west wings of the State House, without any fire-proof security as they now possess. From their manifest insecurity, it was deemed, about nineteen years ago (now thirty), to pull down those former two-story brick wings, and to supply their places by those which are now there. In former times such important papers as rest with the Prothonotaries were kept in their offices at their family residences." When workmen were superintending the removal of the former wings of the State House, Mr. Grove, who was the master-mason, made several interesting discoveries of relics. These were mostly found under the foundation of the walls, as the workmen excavated the ground considerably deeper for the present cellars. At the depth of some five feet, and close to the western wall, was dug up a keg of Indian flints. Nothing appears upon record to give the faintest idea as to who performed the deed, or for what purpose they were buried there. The impression of the keg was distinct, but the wood had decayed and become assimilated with the loamy soil. At about the same depth, and in close proximity to it, were uncovered the complete equipments of a sergeant, consisting of a musket, cartouch-box, sword, buckles, &c. "The wood being decayed, left the impression of what they had been." These discoveries excited considerable curiosity, and attracted a large multitude of people to see and examine them. But a greater and more general excitement was created, a day or two subsequently, at the announcement that a lot of bomb-shells, filled with powder, had been humed by the diggers. This circumstance led to various conjectures, relative to the object for which they had been buried beneath the building, but a satisfactory solution of the mystery has not, as yet, been given. Some entertained the belief that it was intended for another Guy Faux plot, to destroy the edifice on a particular occasion. Most probably, however, they had been placed there for safe keeping, or to prevent their falling into unfriendly hands. Subsequently, when the present foundation was built two of these bombs were walled in with the stones and now form aportion of the stone-work. Future antiquarians and monarchical adherents may regard this in a symbolic light, as typical of the ultimate downfall of the Republicanism, because, beneath and within the very walls of the structure in which freedom of conscience and the rights of humanity were asserted, are imbedded the elements of its own destruction. We congratulate ourselves, however, upon the fact that should Independence Hall ever crumble into ruins, there are associations connected with it sufficiently impressive to inspire the hearts and direct the sentiments of the American people in every thing pertaining to their own unsullied Nationality and Republican sentiments; for, as Milton remarks, "reconcilement never grows where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep."

We have remarked that Independence Hall was used for various purposes. In the year 1802 the Legislature of Pennsylvania granted to Charles Peale, the use of the upper rooms in which the public banquets were formerly given, for the exhibition of curiosities which he had collected and arranged under the title of the "Philadelphia Museum." This institution was commenced in the year 1784, with the simple donation of a "paddle-fish" from the Ohio River. From that time until his disease, Mr. Peale was engaged in efforts of conveying instruction and amusement to the citizens of Philadelphia, and all who wished to visit his museum. The doors of the museum were never open to the profligate and licentious - the place having been scrupulously preserved as a resort for the virtuous and refined of society. In the arrangement and classification of his natural curiosities, Mr. Peale was singularly fortunate. He adopted the system of Linnaeus in classifying his birds and mammalia that of Mr. Cleveland in his mineralogical cabinet, which contained over 1700 specimen. In conchology, which contained more than 1,000 species, he employed the system of Lamarck. The museum contained a large collection of fossil reliquiae of our own country and of Europe, at the head of which was the mammoth, the bones of whose skeletons were discovered in a morass, in Ulster County, New York, by persons digging for marl. Cabinets of fish, reptiles, comparative anatomy, and a numerous collection of miscellaneous articles of works of Art, implements, dresses, arms, antiquities, and so forth, from various parts of the globe, were appropriately located in various parts of the rooms. The museum contained many valuable paintings of officers and diplomatic characters who figured during the Revolution, which were painted by Mr. Peale during the stormy period. In that year the proprietors had succeeded in collecting 274 quadrupeds of various species, and 1284 birds. The collection of insects was very large, and arranged in geographical divisions. That portion of it embracing the Sessidosstera was well adapted to their perfect preservation and most advantageous display. This museum was incorporated in 1822, by an Act of the Legislature, and was then removed to the Arcade.

As a place of literary entertainment, Independence Hall assumes a conspicuous reputation. In 1771, the Rev. Jacob Duche, Assistant Minister of Christ Church and St. Peter's in Philadelphia, wrote as follows: "The 'State House,' as it is called, is a large, plain building, two stories high. The lower story is divided into two large rooms, in one of which the Provincial Assembly meet, and in the other the Supreme Court of Judicature is held. The upper story consists of a long gallery, which is generally used for public entertainments, and two rooms adjoining it, one of which is appropriated for the Governor and his Council; the other, I believe, is yet unoccupied. In one of the wings, which join the main building by means of a brick arcade, is deposited a valuable collection of books, belonging to a number of the citizens, who are incorporated by the name of 'The Library Company of Philadelphia.' You would be astonished, my Lord, at the general taste for books, which prevails among all orders and ranks of people in this city. The librarian assured me , that, for one person of distinction and fortune, there were twenty tradesmen that frequented this library." The Library Company of Philadelphia, to which the above reverend writer so sneeringly alludes, (and who, during the Revolutionary struggle for Independence, turned Tory to the cause of Freedom,) was first started by Benjamin Franklin, in 1731, and was called :The City Library," in consequence of a union which was made on the first of July of that year, of several Libraries. in October, 1732, their first importation of books from England arrived, amounting in cost to L45 15s sterling. The Library was located in Pewter-platter alley, but in 1740 it was transferred to the State House. Thence in 1773 it was placed in the "Carpenter's Hall," where it remained until the year 1790. It received its incorporation in 1742, under the title of the "Library Company of Philadelphia." in 1792 this Company, the Loganian, and the Union, were merged into one - making a tria juncta in una.

During the progress of the struggle for Freedom, the State House was signalized for many scenes which transpired within it, and was, at one time, used as a hospital for wounded soldiers. A "lobby" extended the whole length of the building, then eastward from the head of the stairs, and in this "lobby" the American officers who were captured at the battle of Germantown were retrained as prisoners. It was used as a hospital after the battle of the Brandywine, where many a noble patriot breathed his last. Such were some of the sad purposes for which this sacred structure has been used. This building is also rendered immortal from the fact that here Washington "bade farewell to public life, and delivered that memorable address which will ever be cherished as a sacred legacy by his grateful countrymen." In 1824, Lafayette received his friends in Independence Hall. It has been subsequently used as the audience chamber of several distinguished visitors, and a reception room for the Presidents of the United States. The body of the venerable John Quincy Adams here lay in state, on its way to his final resting-place. in connection with the historical associations which cluster around this immortal structure, we may use the remarks of Raynal, a distinguished Frenchman, who wrote a few after the Declaration of Independence had been signed. He said: "With what grandeur, with what enthusiasm, should I not speak of those generous men who erected this grand edifice, by their patience, their wisdom, and their courage! Hancock, Franklin, and the two Adamses, were the greatest actors in this affecting scene; but they were not the only ones. Posterity shall know them all. Their honored names shall be transmitted to it by a happier pen than mine. Brass and marble shall show them to remotest ages. In beholding them, shall the friend of freedom feel his eyes float in delirious tears. Under the bust of one of them has been written - 'He wrested thunder from haven and the sceptre from tyrants.' Of the last words of this eulogy shall all of them partake. Heroic country, my advanced age permits me not to visit thee. Never shall I see myself among the respectable personages of thy Areopagus; never shall I be present at the deliberations of thy Congress. I shall die without seeing the retreat of toleration, of manners, of laws, of virtue, and of freedom. My ashes shall not be covered by a free and holy earth; but I shall have desired it; and my last breath shall bear to heaven an ejaculation for thy posterity." Thus do these historical incidents rush to our memory, while standing in Independence hall. Few places there are sufficiently impressive to remind us of their associations, but

Yes, those great men have passed from the busy, busting throng of human action, but the spirit they impressed upon their descendants and those who have followed, will never become extinct. Their dust is encircled with wreaths of never-withering laurels, which freshen in eternal bloom, and grow luxuriantly on their lowly sepulchres! "May the flame kindled on the national altar in the first true Hall of freedom, to illuminate and consecrate the Declaration of Independence, in America," burn with inextinguishable splendor, quicken every tardy pulse with patriotic zeal, and blast to cinders every tyrant's accursed throne! that here our children and brethren in future years, from their homes far away on the shores of the pacific, may come and meditate among the scenes and associations of our ancestor's labors, undisturbed by the acts or intrusions of despotism's hirelings, and by musing on the past, gather strength for future action!

Chapter 4 Independence Square

INSEPARABLY associated with the history of Independence Hall are the incidents relative to the enclosure known as Independence Square. Like Mount Vernon—the resting-place of Washington—it excites our devotion—warms into a flame the smoldering embers of patriotism—recalls many pleasing events in the history of days gone by—and thrills us with emotions of gratitude. This enclosure is not unlike other ensanguined fields whose associations call up interesting reminiscences. Hence, we feel the force of the remark of Dr. Clarke:—"If there be a spot upon earth pre-eminently calculated to awaken the solemn sentiments, which such a view of nature is fitted to make upon all men, it may surely be found in the plain of Marathon; where, amidst the wreck of generations, and the graves of ancient heroes, we elevate our thoughts toward Him, 'in whose sight a thousand years are but as yesterday;' where the stillness of Nature, harmonizing with the calm solitude of that illustrious region, which once was the scene of the most agitated passions, enables us, by the past, to determine of the future. In those moments, indeed, we may be said to live for ages; a single instant, by the multitude of impressions it conveys, seems to anticipate for us a sense of that eternity when time shall be no more; when the fitful dream of human existence, with all its turbulent illusions, shall be dispelled; and the last sun having set, in the last of the world, a brighter dawn than ever gladdened the universe shall renovate the dominions of darkness and of death."

To the patriotic inhabitants of the United States, associations of local character exert powerful influences in the formation of their nationality; and nowhere is this power felt more vigorously than in the precincts of Independence Hall. Here "collisions with a mightier foe, and deeds of daring put forth for richer conquests," took place, than when heroic Greeks grappled with the mighty hosts of Persia. A greater principle was here evolved, and a more important problem elucidated, than had ever before been presented to human consideration. When the shepherds heard the glad tidings that a Redeemer had been born in Bethlehem, their hearts leaped for joy, because they realized that in his birth, old ceremonies and creeds which had long characterized the Mosaic Dispensation, would be displaced by new and more tolerant religious principles and forms. They knew the period had come—foretold by Prophets of old—to which the eyes of the world had been directed for centuries, with wonderful anxiety—a period when, it had been announced, "old things should pass away, and all things become new"—when the curse should be removed, and the serpent's head bruised; and the watchful shepherds on the hills of Judea, caught up the song of the wise men of the East, from the valleys of Palestine, and with one deep ecstatic chorus joined the exultation:

The period when those circumstances occurred in the history of religious events, marked a decided epoch in the annals of mankind. But, "when in the course of human events, it became necessary for our people to dissolve the political bands" connecting them with others, "and to assume among the powers of the earth, separate and equal, station—to which the laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitled them"—commenced the beginning of an era from which the disenthralment of mankind from arbitrary bondage was to be the legitimate consequence, the joyful shout of the shepherds,

sounded no more impressively glorious in the Orient than did the proclamation in "Independence Square," that "'These United Colonies are, and of right ought to be free and Independent States!" when a final separation from the authority of Great Britain had been resolved. That moment was heralded to the world, as the bell on the Old State House rung out its thunder tones, and reverberated among the mountains and valleys of the "Thirteen Colonies" a principle deep and sufficiently comprehensive to embrace all mankind. That moment marked a new era in the progress of human affairs—arrayed freedom of conscience, liberty of thought, and the right of speech against dogmatical forms of usurpation, intolerance and despotism. No body of men had ever before exhibited boldness enough to assert a platform of nationality half so liberal and half so great.

It is asserted that long before and at the time the State House was erected, the "State House Yard," or the grounds now enclosed in this area, were exceedingly uneven, upon which whortleberry and other bushes grew quite profusely. The spot was considerably more elevated than its present appearance indicates. That side of it along the line of Walnut street is still remembered to have been depressed and low, and some of the earlier settlers had erected a number of residences on it. After the erection of the State House, these residences were torn down. Originally, this Square was only half its present size, being 396 feet on Chestnut street and the back line, 265 feet on Sixth and Fifth streets. This measurement gave the area 10,098 square feet, making 2 acres, 1 rood, 10½ perches. In this condition the Square remained until the year 1760, when that portion of it fronting on Walnut street was purchased. This added exactly one-half to its dimensions, and it now contains, by actual survey, 4 acres, 2 roods, and 21 perches, or 201,960 square feet—being 396 feet on Walnut and Chestnut streets, and 510 feet on Fifth and Sixth streets. Improvements were subsequently made to the Square, the rough surface removed, and the entire area enclosed with a high substantial brick wall. In the centre, on the Walnut street side of the Square, an antique gate was constructed with a brick structure over it,* as a sort of ornament.

*Placed there by a gentleman named Joseph Fox.

About that period, on the line of Sixth street, there stood against the wall a long row of sheds, placed there for the purpose of securing and feeding horses belonging to the country folk, who came to the city to attend to the business of the Courts, and on other occasions. These sheds, however, were appropriated for various other purposes, and formed excellent loitering places for the Indians, who frequently came to the city on trafficking expeditions, and where they often were found in a state of intoxication after too much Bacchanalian indulgence. It was among a party of Indians, on such an occasion, that Thomas Bradford, a noted man of that day, saw King Hendrick, a celebrated chieftain. This incident occurred a little while before he was killed at Lake George, in the company of Sir William Johnson. A few years afterward, however, these sheds were appropriated and used for artillery ranges, the main entrance to which was on the side of Chestnut street.

For several years after its enclosure by the brick wall, this Square remained unembellished by any thing of an artistic character—the pride and taste of the citizens refusing to beautify it, even by the removal of many objectionable natural features. But during the year 1784, a gentleman of respectability and great personal note, named Vaughan,* who had fixed upon Philadelphia as a place of residence, resolved to improve and render the grounds more attractive. The expense was solely borne by himself, but his efforts, thus directed, will be regarded as worthy of emulation for many succeeding generations. He carefully prepared the grounds by rendering its topographical appearance more suitable for the purposes to which it was intended—a resort for the people—and then selected choice trees, which he planted in profusion and great variety. As a natural consequence, many of the trees thus planted, being transferred from their primitive soils to now ones, unable to obtain the necessary pabulum, drooped and decayed, and were replaced by others. Many of the stately elm trees which Mr. Vaughan had been careful in keeping alive, had their foliage annually destroyed by swarms of Lepidopterous insects which had become so numerous and annoying to the citizens, that the trees were finally cut down to abate the nuisance. After the Square had been improved, and rendered more like the Parks of the East, it gradually became a place of much resort, and with a view to accommodate the citizens during their promenades, Windsor settees and chairs were liberally distributed in it as seats on which to rest, and enjoy the coolness of that rural retreat, in summer, when each felt like passing a few hours,

*Father of the late John Vaughan, Esq.—Watson's Annals.

Pre-eminently calculated to attract the fashionable and virtuous to its umbrageous avenues, thousands resorted hither for pleasurable recreation. But in this respect it soon began to grow less inviting; the dissolute and tavern frequenters congregated in it to such an extent that the more respectable citizens refused to walk there after the shadows of evening had fallen. So that, "in spite of public interest to the contrary, it ran into disesteem among the better part of society." Mr. Bradford says that efforts were made to restore its lost credit; the seats were removed, and loungers were spoken of as trespassers; but the remedy came too late; good company had deserted it, and the tide of fashion did not again set in its favor. We deeply regret that the reputation of the Square, in this respect, has not from that day to the present, been improved. We are unable to give the number of trees in the State House Yard at the time of which we write, there being no accessible data at hand; but at the present writing there are two hundred and ten of various kinds, whose umbrageous arms interlock, and form a canopy of verdure, through which numerous squirrels gambol, and among which the birds twitter, and build their nests. Among these stately sentinels of the Square there are several varieties, the horse-chestnut, elm, maple, buttonwood, &c., and but one small evergreen.

The name of this Square, after the Declaration of Independence was signed, was changed from that of the " State House Yard" to a more appropriate and suggestive one, "Independence Square." This was done for the purpose of harmonizing its appellation with that of the Hall, which received its new name at the same time. The Square is approachable by eight different gates, one of which is through the main entrance to Independence Hall. On entering the Square, through this Hall, the attention of the stranger cannot fail to be attracted by the dissimilarity of the architectural appearance of the door-way with every other part of the building. This dissimilarity occurred in the following way: when the wood-work to the Hall was ordered to be changed for the purpose of modernizing its style, the carpenter employed to do it constructed the door-way after a plan of his own selection, and he made it conform to the entrance of St. James's Church. When the Hall was restored to its original style of architecture, the pillars, lintels, &c., were allowed to remain unchanged, and hence the dissimilarity. Propriety and good taste ought to have induced those who had the charge of rechanging the plan to make every part of the building conform to its primitive style.

The other entrances to the Square are—one on each side of the State House, one on Fifth, one at the southwest corner of Fifth and Walnut streets, one on Walnut, one at the southeast corner of Walnut and Sixth streets, and one on Sixth Street. The Square is appropriately laid off in walks crossing each other at right angles with a serpentine footway around the outer-edge. After the improvements, alluded to above, had been made, and the trees* assumed a thrifty appearance, public taste demanded the removal of the sombre and dismal brick wall around the Square, and the erection of a new and more tasteful one. Accordingly, it was resolved that the Square should be surrounded with an iron-railing sufficiently massive and high to protect the grass-plats, trees, and shrubbery from outside intrusion; and the graceful iron palisades which enclose it at this time, were erected. They gave general satisfaction at that time, and are still objects of admiration.

*Dr. James Mease, who was active in superintending the planting of trees before the State House, and also in the Public Squares.—Vide Watson's Annals.

For many years past Independence Square has been used by politicians of various parties as a place in which to hold public meetings. Consecrated as it is to patriotic sentiment, it is considered peculiarly appropriate for enthusiastic demonstrations. But how strangely different do individuals regard the hallowed associations the history of this area is calculated to inspire! Here, within the enclosure of Independence Square, in full view of the sacred bell that thundered to the world the declaration of human liberty, disloyal partisans have uttered declamations unbecoming American citizens; and here, too, have been proclaimed patriotic sentiments which shall burn with inextinguishable ardor—spread a divine glow of patriotism over the feelings of the people—quicken the pulse of every true American, and cause tyranny and demagogues to tremble. With all these past reminiscences to create a feeling of reverence for Independence Square, there have been measures projected which, when fully carried out, will add immensely to the inspirations of the place—the erection of a monument, or monuments, in commemoration of the "Declaration of Independence," and in honor of the signers thereof. This patriotic subject was first conceived and acted upon by A. G. WATERMAN, Esq., of Philadelphia, who, on the 25th of September, 1851, submitted the following preamble and resolutions, which were accepted by the Select and Common Councils.

"The spot on which the Congress of the American Colonies declared their Independence, should be dear to the whole nation to which that act gave birth. It is hallowed not only by the heroism of the men, who, in the name of a small and scattered people, renounced the rule of a powerful king, but by the first formal promulgation of the principles of popular liberty, which are the inheritance of our great Republic, and the guide and hope of the friends of man throughout the world. Viewed with this reference, the Hall of the old State House of the colony of Pennsylvania may take precedence in interest of every other edifice, ancient or modern. In it assembled the Apostles of Political Freedom. In it, calling God to witness the truth of their cause, they pledged their lives to that Revelation of Rights, from the progress of which, in the brief period of human life, we are assured that in due time it will embrace the convictions, and secure the happiness of the whole family of mankind. It is assumed, therefore, that the Thirteen States of 1776 feel a common special pride in the alliance of their names with the Declaration of Independence—with the wisdom which conceived it, the valor which resolved it, the glory which still confirms it; and that they will unite in further consecrating the place of its adoption, by memorials worthy of the act of its authors. Entertaining these views, be it, and it is hereby

Resolved, By the Select and Common Councils of the City of Philadelphia—

First, That it is expedient to have erected in the grove belonging to the Hall in which the National Independence was declared, one or more monuments, commemorative respectively of the States and of the men, parties to that glorious event.

Secondly, That in order to accomplish this patriotic design, the Presidents of Select and Common Councils are hereby directed to furnish a copy of these proceedings to, and memorialize the Legislatures of the States of Massachusetts, N. Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, suggesting to these Legislatures to appoint each two delegates to a Convention to assemble in Independence Hall on the 4th day of July, 1852, as guests of the City of Philadelphia, there to deliberate upon a plan of carrying into effect this proposition in a manner becoming the means of their constituents, and the memories of the illustrious dead.

Thirdly, That in the event of this proposition having a favorable response from the States addressed, the Select and Common Councils of the City of Philadelphia, in the name of the citizens, are pledged to hold the grounds of Independence Hall free from all encroachments upon the monuments to be erected, and to guard the same equally with the Hall itself, as a sacred and national trust forever."

These resolutions were patriotically calculated to excite a wide-spread and general sentiment in favor of the enterprise; and on the 7th of October, 1852, the Councils of Philadelphia passed other resolutions, designating the necessary legal steps in order to make their action permanent and invested with suitable powers. A committee was appointed to draw up an address to the Legislatures of the "Old Thirteen States," soliciting the enactment of laws to assist in the erection of the Memorial, from which we extract.

"Our purpose in now addressing you, is to solicit your hearty co-operation in the execution of this design. That event ushered a new member into the family of nations, and electrified all Europe. It opened a new revelation of liberty, and changed the relations of people and government, by teaching the one how to resist and conquer oppression, and the other the absolute necessity to its own continuance, of recognizing and respecting the rights of humanity. From that time forth, a new, vital, and quickening spirit has pervaded the world. Thrones have been shaken, empires have been overturned, society has been convulsed, blood and carnage have desolated the earth—but still the intelligence and soul of the people of all Christendom have been revivified, elevated and expanded to a comprehension of their rights, which will never be obliterated nor forgotten, but will advance, enlarge and increase, until that moral and social preparation for the appreciation and enjoyment of liberty shall be effected, which in the Divine economy is so indispensable to the permanence of free institutions.

While such have been the results abroad of that mighty movement which the fullness of time developed after a century of preparation, how can human language describe the vast consequences which have flowed from it in this favored land? To what point shall we look without finding overwhelming evidences of its all-powerful influences? Thirty-one free, happy, and independent sovereign States, created out of thirteen struggling and depressed colonies, governed by laws to which they never assented, by tyrannical ministers who regarded them as valuable only on account of the opportunity they afforded of extending power and patronage, their trade and commerce shackled by oppressive restrictions, and their prosperity checked by petty jealousy; a population of nearly twenty-five millions of inhabitants, rejoicing in moral, social, religious, and commercial prosperity, springing from only three millions scarcely able to maintain existence; a Territory watered by the Atlantic and the Pacific, and every sea whitened by our canvas—respected, honored, and feared by the nations of the earth—overflowing with wealth, and exuberant in all the elements of prosperity and happiness—where, where on the face of this globe is there a country with which we would exchange conditions? To whom and to what are we indebted for these priceless blessings? To an overruling Providence, and to the men who framed, who declared, and who achieved our Independence.

Our hearts ache with the desire to do something to testify our gratitude, our veneration, and to prove that we are not unworthy of such a heritage. Have we no lesson to teach our children and their children's children? Shall they not be perpetually reminded of the goodness of God, and the self-sacrificing bravery and devotion of their ancestors? Shall they not have one national shrine of patriotism to which all, without distinction of creed or opinion, can repair, and unitedly, with one heart and one soul, pour out their thanksgiving and their love? We are so constituted by our Creator that visible signs and representations are necessary to awaken our sensibilities, to stimulate our affections, and to nerve our resolutions. As the third generation of that posterity for whom the men of the Revolution chiefly labored, and suffered, and died, it is peculiarly fitting that we should erect such representations of their great and controlling acts as shall speak to our own. hearts, to our children's hearts and shall testify to God and the world that we appreciate and reverence, and would cultivate and disseminate the mighty truths and principles which brought our nation into existence, which constitute its very life, and of which it seems designed by Providence to be the special defender and protector. How can liberty dwell in a country that represses the outward marks of homage and reverence for its principles? It is one of the most solemn and imperative duties, which we may not neglect with impunity, to watch the sacramental flame of liberty, to feed it constantly with the aliment necessary to its existence, to keep it bright and glorious, and to deliver it to our successors with the charge, that as they claim the benefits of its hallowed influences, so will they preserve and maintain it. To these ends the proposed monument will exercise a powerful influence. Paltry, in comparison with our ability, as will be the cost, its value will consist in its consecration of a great principle, the divine right of a people to redress their wrongs and achieve their liberty, and to establish such government as their circumstances may require, and they may be able to maintain."

The plan of the monument was intended to represent the "Thirteen States," by a shaft having thirteen sides or faces, one of which is to be appropriated to the devices which its respective State may deem proper to place upon it. This shaft or column is to be united by an entablature, upon which the Declaration of Independence shall be cut into the solid stone, and surmounted by a tower. The thirteen faces are to contain such inscriptions and emblazonings as each State shall direct, commemorative of some citizen or citizens of her own, who took part in the responsibility of that Declaration. Nearly all the States have taken some measures in regard to this National shrine, and have decided to assist in its erection. So that, in all probability, the work of its erection will commence at no distant day, and be prosecuted vigorously to completion.

Chapter 5 The Old State House Bell

Whoever has visited Independence Hall for the purpose of contemplating those relics of the past which are here preserved, and to muse on associations surrounding this holy shrine, must have felt an indescribable and irresistible reverence gently take possession of his meditations, while standing beside that greatest of all orators the world ever knew or heard — "the OLD STATE HOUSE BELL!" Its tongue is now still, and its voice is silent; its sides look dark and heavy, and a perceptible corrosion is indicated by chemical action of the atmosphere on its surface—but the peals it thundered over the land on the Fourth of July, 1776, ring with as much potency—excite as deep patriotism—awaken as strong emotions—fill the soul with as fervent love of country—inspire as holy sentiments—and thrill with as warm a glow the children of those noble patriots whose deeds gave direction to its voice, as when it proclaimed "Liberty throughout the land and to all the inhabitants thereof!"

Its vibrations still reverberate through the room in which it is placed—the air is yet tremulous with its echoes; although the hand that rung it on that memorable occasion is stiff in the icy embrace of death—the gray-headed patriot who anxiously awaited with trembling hope in the belfry the signing of that Declaration, whose ejaculations—"They'll never do it! They'll never do it!" whose eyes dilated, whose form expanded, and whose grasp grew firmer when the voice of the blue-eyed youth reached his ears in shouts of triumph—" Ring! RING! they have signed, and our country is free!" has been long since gathered to his fathers—the events of that day will commemorate his honor to all coming time. No patriot can look upon this bell without recalling the circumstances connected with its first proclamation to the world, that the United Colonies were "free and independent States." No patriot can fail to recall to his memory the effect which that announcement produced on the anxious multitude below.

To some, it gave the first thrill of enthusiastic resistance to despotic power—to some it was a harbinger of joy—to others it imparted strength in the hour of gloom—to others again, it was a messenger of evil, causing them to sneak away, muttering as they did so—"Well, we are in a pretty mess of trouble now!" But the same patriot, passing over the history of five years, will also remember in connection with these facts, that on the 23d of October, 1781, in the boding hour of night, a very different proclamation was heard in the same vicinity: "Past twelve o'clock, and Cornwallis is taken!" Then might be seen mothers, and daughters, and sisters, and brothers, hastening to the windows, in dreamy abstractions of delight, joyfully exclaiming, "Who is taken?" while the watchman plodded on his way, shouting continually, "Why, Cornwallis! he was taken by Washington and Lafayette, at Yorktown, Va.! Past 12 o'clock, and Cornwallis is taken!" The bells rung out the glad tidings; the city was illuminated, and jubilant shouts gave evidence of unbounded joy. The "pretty mess of trouble" which the sound of the " Old State House Bell" had plunged the people into, had been successfully overcome, the barque had safely weathered the storm, the invincibility of despotism was broken, the Colonies were free.

The remainder of that night the eyes of the people were sleepless; friend congratulated friend, and united prayers of gratefulness ascended to the throne of the God of battles. Who would not, then, have been on the side of liberty? Who did not then feel that the cause of those struggling patriots was good? There were none to say, " We are in a pretty mess of trouble now." No! the sword of the tyrant was broken, and freedom stood a towering prodigy before the eyes of an astonished world! History has, however, preserved less of the incidents connected with this bell than the citizens of the country desire—the only importance attached to it having been created in consequence of the purposes to which it was applied during the revolutionary struggles of our ancestors, and the prophetic inscription it contained.

After the completion of the State House in 1734, measures were set on foot to secure means and funds sufficient to place in the dome a bell appropriate for the building. As they had already supplied a great public necessity, by placing a clock in the west end—not in the steeple, as Harper's Magazine represents it—many influential citizens opposed the measure, on the ground of extravagance, arguing that the "great cost of the State House had imposed a heavy tax upon the citizens, and further expenditure was useless." The better judgment of the people, however, after several years, prevailed, and it was decided to have a bell. But another great and discouraging difficulty met the speedy accomplishment of their purposes. There had been but little molding and casting effected in the Colonies, in consequence of the home government monopolizing almost exclusively every department of manufacturing, thereby subjecting their subjects in the New World to depend upon the mills, looms, and furnaces of England for a supply of such articles as Parliament might think proper for them to have.

It became necessary, therefore, to submit to the inconvenience, trouble, and delay, of sending to London for a bell. This was done. The size, peculiar shape, weight,* motto, and thickness, were accurately mentioned, as directions for casting it, and the order was sent in the latter part of the year 1750. About a year would elapse before they could reasonably expect the bell to reach this country. It came at last, in l752, and before it was landed from the ship, hundreds of citizens repaired to the vessel to examine it, and congratulate the city on its safe arrival.

*The weight of the bell was 2030 pounds.

The tone was clear, distinct and forcible, well calculated to inspire feelings of pride in those enterprising citizens, who had been chiefly instrumental in procuring it. But their high anticipations were doomed to meet a sad disappointment. A day or two after its arrival, while removing it from the vessel to the place for which it was intended, it met with an accident, by which its tones were rendered discordant, the beauty of its appearance mutilated, and its uses almost destroyed. In fact, the bell had to be recast, and it was decided that an experiment should be made in the city. Accordingly the task was assigned to Messrs. Pass & Stow, who were to perform the operation, under the superintendence of Isaac Norris, Esq., Speaker of the Colonial Assembly. To that gentleman is ascribed the honor of having originally suggested the motto, "Proclaim Liberty throughout the land, and to all the inhabitants thereof," which the bell contains, and which proved so prophetic of its future