Faneuil Hall, hard by, also worthily upholds the Georgian traditions of the mid-eighteenth century in its storeyed façades, its gracefully proportioned and detailed cupola and the excellence of its interior cornices, pillars and carved capitals. This “cradle of American liberty” is a truly noble building and a worthy setting for the stirring historic episodes that have been enacted beneath its roof or under the shadow of its walls.
The Bulfinch State House, a “model of classicality” as someone has not inappropriately called it, is an exceptionally impressive precursor of the Greek or Classic Revival. Designed at a time when the graceful interpretation of the Georgian style, introduced by the Brothers Adam, was still dominant, it combines the characteristic elegance of its epoch with the bold vigour of classic inspiration, drawn direct from the font of antiquity, that distinguished the best public architecture of the early nineteenth century. Despite the alterations and additions to which it has been subjected, its strong individuality still dominates the structure, of which the original fabric is now but a small part, and breathes abroad the ample spirit of post-Colonial dignity.
The original buildings of Harvard, or rather the worthy successors of the first buildings, none of which remain, exhibit, in their plan, proportions and general treatment, many admirable features quite comparable to those of the best contemporary large Georgian buildings in England and their substantial dignity, thoroughly in keeping with their purpose, reflects the greatest credit upon the Colonial officers and benefactors of the University.
Of the other Colonial or post-Colonial secular public buildings in New England deserving of admiration and close study, all of which it would be a congenial task to write about at length, did space permit, three especially must be mentioned before passing on to discuss those in another part of the country. They are the Custom House in Salem, which will always be associated with the fanciful melancholy of Hawthorne’s literary genius; the Town House or State House at Newport, built in 1743 from the designs of Richard Munday and, last of all, the Market or City Hall, in the same place, built in 1760 after the plans of Peter Harrison, sometime an assistant to Sir John Vanbrugh, whose close connexion with that eminent English architect and subsequent removal to the American Colonies throw an interesting side light upon the bonds linking Colonial architectural developments with their source of inspiration.
New York could boast the stately old building of King’s College; Fraunce’s Tavern, whose festive board, upon the occasion of balls and receptions, groaning with toothsome viands, caused the feasters to groan with gout the next day; the City Hall, begun in 1803, whose chaste classic elegance, surrounded by huge modern structures, still bears eloquent witness to the civic good taste of the period when it was erected. Henry James was greatly impressed with its “perfect taste and finish, the reduced, yet ample, scale, the harmony of the parts, the just proportions, the modest classic grace, the living look of the type aimed at.” On looking at such noble examples of the architecture of a past generation, one cannot but regret that the ruthless sweep of commercial progress has brushed aside and demolished so many monuments of the New York of Colonial days.
In Colonial cities and towns the town hall and market, usually found close together if not actually occupying the same building, according to old English custom, were so representative of the visible course of civic life that some account must be taken of their presence though few of them now remain. The old Provincial Hall or Court House in Philadelphia, erected in 1707, was so thoroughly typical of these combined judicial and mercantile structures that, although torn down many years ago, it deserves some notice in this place. It stood in the middle of Market street at the corner of Second and back of it the market sheds or shambles stretched away towards the west, occupying the whole middle of the street, and increasing in extent year by year as the city grew and more accommodations for the farmers became necessary. It was a substantial brick structure, built on arches, and was similar in character and appearance to the town halls of that day in many English county towns. “It was,” wrote a local antiquary, in one of his sketches, “an important place. Monarchs on their accessions were there proclaimed; wars were thence declared; and peace, when it came to bless the people, there found a voice to utter it. New governours addressed the people over whom they were appointed to rule, from its balcony; the emblems of sovereignty, the royal arms of England, were there displayed.” There centred all the official, legislative and administrative life of the Province, there the Provincial Council sat, there the elections were held and there were the gaol and those much dreaded but effective instruments of correction, the pillory, the stocks and the whipping post. The stocks, standing as they did in such close proximity to the market, the rougher sort drew not a little amusement from pelting culprits there confined with overripe vegetables and we are told, in the reminiscent notes of one who was a boy at the time of the Revolution, that “the whipping-post and pillory display was always on a market day—then the price of eggs went up much.” Such was the old Philadelphia Court House and very like it were the town houses and markets in the other Colonial cities. One good example of this type of building, still standing, is the brick portion of the market at Second and Pine streets, Philadelphia, which
BULFINCH STATE HOUSE, BOSTON. 1795.