This large gathering of our citizens in Faneuil Hall is for some purpose: it is significant that the people want something. I do not understand that it is in any sense to re-affirm their conviction that their best interests will be served by adding to our public property a park or parks. That question has been fully discussed and decided by the people themselves for themselves:they settled that by their, with remarkable unanimity, voting to accept the act of the legislature, giving power to the city government to purchase or take land for that purpose. All classes seem to agree upon the necessity. The entire medical faculty with one voice say we want it for sanitary reasons, and have joined in the general petitions. Our capitalists and merchants have spoken for themselves unmistakably by their petitions to the city government, bearing more than seven thousand names, and representing, I am informed, more than two hundred millions of taxable property. An able Commission, after a year of careful study, and diligent devotion to their duty, have made their report. The people have examined, discussed, criticised, and finally approved and accepted it, and now come here in Faneuil Hall to speak direct to City Hall for its adoption. Mr. President, our professional men, our merchants and capitalists, have spoken for themselves by their petitions and voices here to-night. It remains only for me to speak for the more numerous class of our fellow-citizens who pay but two dollars poll-tax. Yet they are as good citizens, have and feel as deep interest in the growth, prosperity, and progress of our city, as their more fortunate neighbors; and in the name and behalf of the mechanics, the laborers, the great mass of men that build our cities, and whose labor contributes so much to our growth and prosperity, and whose employment is the one thing more than any other needed to-day to inaugurate the beginning of our old-time prosperity, I appeal to our city government to complete the work so opportunely and well begun. It is immediate action we ask for.
There being no difference of opinion as to the necessity and utility of parks, and their ultimate payment for their full cost, the only open question is the time to begin. We say that time is now,—now, while thousands of unwillingly idle hands are waiting for work, and money is cheap; cheap, because labor is unemployed. We say to you, gentlemen of the city government, respectfully but earnestly, Act upon this matter now.
Don't wait till your summer vacation; don't wait till next month; don't let any personal matter intervene to prevent the performance of this public duty the people now ask at yourhands. The present truly great debt of our city, the bulk of which has been created in improvements, made enormously more costly by the failure of city governments in past times to comprehend the wants of a growing metropolis, admonishes you to act now, and secure the advantages the present favorable combination of circumstances offers. We confer on you the power to spend our money for the public good; and we ask you to act now, because we clearly see that delay means largely increased cost for what we must have in the near future.
The President.The Act under which this Commission was appointed, and has discharged its duty, was supported, I think, by nearly every member of the Boston delegation; and I may be allowed a single moment to add a tribute of respect to that delegation. Boston has been well represented, with one exception, perhaps, during the last two years, in the State legislature; and I am very happy to know that you are now to be addressed by a member of that delegation, who, as I said, supported this Act when it was passed; who did not always vote with me on every occasion, but who never voted against his conscience, never supported any thing dishonest, or unjust, or unfair; and who will stand up, I have no doubt, to-night, and speak well his mind, as he did on every fit occasion in the State House, for what he deems just and right, and for the good of the people: Mr.Joseph F. Paul, whom I am very happy to introduce to you. [Applause.]
Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen,—I hardly know what reply to make to the remarks of the gentleman who has just taken his seat. In fact, I think I had better let them go, and allow you to judge for yourselves after I have said what I propose to say. I may say, in the first place, that this is my first appearance upon this stand as a speaker; and, when called upon to speak after such gentlemen as you have listened to to-night, I trust you will make all due allowance for any mistakes that I may make. But I claim the right as a citizenof Boston, as a tax-payer of Boston, to express my opinion upon this subject, as upon all others in which I take an interest. The necessity of parks has been made apparent to every gentleman here by those who are better qualified than I am to do so. I believe that there is no man here who does not believe that we are to have parks. I have not heard from such; and I do not believe that there is such a man, unless it is one who does not expect to enjoy them himself, and is unwilling that posterity should.
Taking it for granted that that question is settled, the only question which seems to be before the people is, whether this is the proper time; and I propose to address myself to the consideration of that question. I propose to speak of it as of a private enterprise, and as an individual business-man. It has been explained to you in regard to the condition of the labor-market, and I think that I may say fairly and squarely that labor of the character to be used about parks has not been so cheap for twenty years. Money is cheap; labor is required; parks are wanted; and it is better to keep the men at work, and retain them in the city, than to sustain them and their families at the public cost. It is not like sending out of the country to import something for which we must pay our money. All the money is to be paid to our own citizens; and, unless some show of enterprise is made, we shall lose business-men from this city. They will not stay here, and do nothing, unless the city government makes some show of enterprise. I have had some experience myself in the city government, having been a member of it, whether that is an honor or not; though I hold that the honor or dishonor of any society depends upon one's own conduct. There is always some doubt about making a move in the city government; and, in a matter like the park question, such a meeting as this will be a great encouragement to action. The public feeling on this question is so great, that the parks must be established. The project has been fought no harder than the Water Board was; and where would the city of Boston be, if the friends of that enterprise had not succeeded? Act here to-night, and then let the city government do its part. Objections may be made by some gentlemen, made conscientiously; but, five years fromnow, these gentlemen will not remember that they raised any objection.
This meeting is called for the purpose of giving the city government to understand that the business-men, the working-men, of the city, mean what they say, when they say that they want public parks; and there is no question that an impulse will be given to the action of the city government by this meeting. We are the city of Boston; and the members of the city government act for us.
Gentlemen, it is getting late, and there are those to follow who will entertain you better than I can. But I propose to close with a little story which I heard; and it was in church that I heard it, in an excellent sermon. Just after the war of 1812, our laboring men stood, as they stand to-day, idling about the wharves and public places. That was the case in a little town to the east of Boston. They had enterprising men, as we have now; and one day a gentleman stepped into a bank, and said to the president, "Mr. President, I am going to build a ship."—"What do you know about shipbuilding?" asked the president. "Nothing. But I can do the business; and there are men here who can do the work. We have the money, and there are the men. I will build the ship, and sell it; you will get your money back; and the profit will be divided among the men." The idea was a novel one; but the president wanted to set the wheels of business in motion; and so he said that he would give an answer the next day. The gentleman called promptly the next morning; and the president informed him that the directors had agreed to advance the money. The gentleman then went out among the idle men, and said, "I am going to build a ship, and I want you to do the work. I will pay you enough to live on; and, when the ship is built, we will divide the profit." So they went to work as co-partners, and built the ship, this gentleman generously attending to the business. The ship was built and launched and sold, the money was paid to the bank, and the profits divided. That was the first ship built on the Merrimack in Newburyport, which has since become one of the largest shipbuilding places in Massachusetts.
So we want something to set the wheels in motion. The city of Boston can borrow the money, and buy the land, for these parks, more cheaply now than ever again; and the men are ready to do the work. I know of nothing more that I can say. I am glad to see this hall filled to-night. There are men here to-night who have at heart the interests and prosperity of the city of Boston. That is what we are acting for; and I trust that that hundred men will go up to City Hall, and, if the city government will move in the matter, every true man will deem it his duty to stand behind and encourage them.
The President.My friends, the best things and the most enthusiastic meetings must come to an end; but those who wait till the last generally get the best. I have now the pleasure of introducing to you the closing speaker, the Hon.P. A. Collins.
I know that no word of mine can add to the force of this movement. I am neither great tax-payer nor eminent sanitarist. I cannot hope to equal others who have discussed the moral, æsthetic, sanitary, and economic phases of the question before us. But, happily, there is no need of such discussion now. The question of public parks has been submitted, in all its forms and probable effects, to the ablest, keenest, wisest, of our citizens; and there is but one answer. The answer is, that we need more out-door life than our sedentary race enjoys, and that public grounds, accessible to all, are not only desirable, but necessary to the moral and physical health of our crowded population.
This is the verdict; and, granted this, there remain but two questions,—"Is this the time?" "Can we afford it?" To some, the present is never the time for any thing. Their motto seems to be, "Don't do to-day what you can put off till to-morrow, because you may not live till to-morrow, and then you won't have to do it at all." This principle has been acted upon by short-sighted Boston too long; and the result is amelancholy looking-back to the time when improvements could have been made for a tenth or a fifteenth of the present cost. We are told of our beautiful suburbs, as if they can be suburbs forever. Even now, they are but for the rich. Beware of trespassing in the fields and woods: they are private property. The roads seem to belong to blood-horses and their owners. If you wish to know the future, look at the past. Look back, you aged men, to the fields and gardens of Tremont and Boylston Streets. Look back, you younger men, to rambles through South Boston farms, and land at "South End" sold by the acre. Always comes the old conservative admonition, "Wait!"—yes, wait till the great sea-wall makes City Point of Castle Island,—wait till the now extended arms of Boston clasp Brookline to the bosom of the metropolis,—wait till private avarice and easy legislation, acting intermittently, deface the shore and basin of Charles River,—wait till the dense and ever growing population, bursting from its narrow bounds, spreads itself in streets laid out at random, over what you are pleased to call our suburbs,—wait, in short, till the inevitable happens, and where are your public parks? You may have them, even then, I grant you; but you will have them wherethe peoplecannot reach them, and where the cost will be too great. Remember that our city growth is like the growth of all cities in the New World and the Old; and, if we want green places in the future Boston, we must seize them now.
Can we afford the expense? Rather, let us ask, Can Boston afford to be less comfortable to live in, less attractive, less healthy, than sister cities? We can afford police, paved streets, light, sewers, scavengers, a fire department, a board of health, and a score of other agencies, not because they give salaries and employment to certain men, but because the public health and safety require it; we can afford schools, maintained at enormous cost, though it may be conceded that we could live without education; we can afford pure water in abundance, be the expense never so great, because we need it; and, if we need pure air, we can afford to pay for it, to seize the means of having it, and keeping it forever.
And suffer me, with due modesty, to say, that we in thismeeting—representing as we do the commerce, industries, and professions of this goodly town—have a right to demand that what we ask shall be given us, and that Boston shall take and hold for the use of its people this needed reservation, while yet there is time. I trust our city fathers will need no further admonition than this meeting gives; but, if they should, we are enlisted for the war.
As Cromwell, grimly looking down on the fair fields and shining streams of the land he came to conquer, said, "This is a land worth fighting for," so let us, as we survey the magnificent area of shore and hill and glade which fortune now permits us to dedicate to public use, exclaim, "This, indeed, is worth our effort;" and let us strive for it till the battle is won.
The President.I have been requested to state that the well-known physician, Dr.Edward H. Clarke, who is too ill to be present here to-night, has written a long and interesting letter on the subject of this meeting, which will be published in the morning papers; and I desire that every citizen present will make a point of reading that letter.
Hamilton A. Hill, Esq., Secretary, &c.
Dear Sir,—I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your note of the 2d inst., requesting me, in the name of the committee who have called a public meeting on the park question, to address to them a letter which shall contain my views upon "the necessity existing at the present time for action on this subject, and upon the Report of the Park Commissioners."
If my views are of any value to the community on this question, or if I could exert any influence, however little, in bringing about a result so necessary to the comfort, prosperity, and health of all the citizens of Boston, as the establishment of a public park within the limits of the city, I should esteem it not less a privilege than a duty to present those views, and exert that influence.
Among the many and weighty considerations that might be appropriately urged in favor of the establishment of a park in this city, three stand out so prominently, that their importance can scarcely be overestimated. These are, first, the sanitary, second, the educational, and, third, the economic aspects of the question. Let me call your attention briefly to these three points.
The first is the sanitary aspect of the park. The discussion of sewerage and drainage, and of the ventilation of sewers, drains, and houses, with which our community have latterly been made familiar, has impressed upon our citizens, to some extent, the importance of introducing pure air into our houses, and of keeping foul air out of them. The importance of such ventilation cannot be overstated. But we are in danger of forgetting that the importance of ventilating a city is as great as that of ventilating all the houses in it, with this difference, that if a city is not well ventilated, so as to bring fresh air into it, and to keep foul air and poisonous gases out of it, the ventilation of individual dwellings will be of little avail.
The foul air of the streets will not only envelop those who pass through them, but will penetrate the houses that line them, visiting alike the sick and the well, increasing the danger of disease to the former, and diminishing the health and strength of the latter. In proportion as a city increases in size, large open spaces should be reserved. Parks are the lungs of the city. They are more than this: they are reservoirs of oxygen and fresh air. They produce atmospheric currents, which sweep through and purify the streets. Parks not only offer oxygen to all who visit them, but distribute a large amount of this prime necessity of life everywhere in their neighborhood. Without open spaces appropriately placed, it is impossible, in a large city, to have well ventilated streets, and to keep the air of the houses sweet and clean. Let us remember, moreover, that bad ventilation means poisoned air, and that poisoned air is sure to be followed by a ghastly train of diseases, with an occasional pestilence to remind the inhabitants what a terrible thing it is to disregard sanitary laws.
Improved ventilation is by no means the only sanitary goodthat parks yield to a city wise enough to possess them. A fraction, and only a small fraction, of our population, are able to leave the city during the hot months of the year, for the country. When these favored ones reach Nahant, Swampscott, or Newport, or some modest farmhouse, or comfortable dwelling by the side of the many railroads that lead from the foulness of the city to the purity of the country, or of the mountains, how gladly and enthusiastically they speak of their escape from heat, discomfort, and disease, to coolness, comfort, and health! But the mass of the community,—the artisans and work-people, whose necessities compel them to remain within the limits of the city,—their families, children, sick ones and all, have at present no such escape from close and impure air.
The carrying of little children who are pinched by cholera-infantum, or spotted by scarlet-fever, or of those who are paralyzed by diphtheria, or distorted by scrofula, or emaciated by consumption, for a few hours a day into the pure air and bright sunlight of an open square, has saved many a life. Many a needless death has occurred, because the city afforded no such opportunity for escape. A few hours' exposure of a child on a mother's lap, or in a basket or carriage, to the freshness of a park, will produce a sleep that never follows opium, chloral, or ether, and will yield a chance for health that no drug can give. For the last few years, Philadelphia has shown a diminished death-rate. Dr.William Pepper, who has lately investigated the sanitary condition of that city, commenting upon the gratifying fact just stated, says, "While thus showing an average rate of mortality more favorable than that found in any other city containing over 500,000 inhabitants, Philadelphia has recently (1874) attained a degree of healthfulness almost unparalleled; namely, with a population at that time of 775,000, the number of deaths was but 14,966, giving a death-rate of only 19.3 per thousand. These very favorable results are largely due to the abundant and cheap water-supply, and to the opportunities given, even to the poorest citizens, for the enjoyment of pure country air in the great Fairmount Park, which contains 2,991 acres. The extent to which this is valued by the citizens may be inferred from the fact, that, during the year 1875, thepark was visited by over eleven million persons." There is no reason why a park in Boston should not yield as good a sanitary result as one in Philadelphia.
While looking at the sanitary aspects of this subject, let us not forget that a park laid out in accordance with the plan of the Park Commissioners will utilize localities that would otherwise become plague-spots, and nurseries of disease. The low lands along the banks of Charles River, portions of the Back Bay, and other sections that might be mentioned, are sure to become unhealthy localities,—stations for distributing the germs of disease throughout their neighborhood and at a distance from them,—unless they are reserved, and left unoccupied. The most extravagant way of disposing of such localities is for the city to permit them to be built over, "improved" is the phrase, I believe, and then suffer the consequences, in the way of increase of disease and taxes, which follow such sort of improvements.
Let us now pass from the sanitary to the educational aspect of our subject. The educational value of a park to the community of a large city is second only to its sanitary value. We are too apt to think that education is the exclusive function of the school, and that books and school-teachers are the only educators. This is a grievous mistake. The education of the home and street, of the workshop and store, of the church and theatre, of the base-ball club and the evening party, of the rum-shop and dance-hall, and of the numerous other influences of a great city, is more potent than that of the school. The evil of all evil agencies is intensified, and the good of the good ones diminished, by uncleanness and impure air. Clean hands and a pure heart go together. Foul air prompts to vice, and oxygen to virtue, as surely as sunlight paints the flowers, and ripens the fruits, of our gardens. The tired workman, who, after a day's labor, needs the repose and relaxation of home, is apt to be driven from it by the close atmosphere of the street and house in which he lives. He would, if he could, get into the fresh air of the country; but, as he cannot do this, he seeks the relief which drink or other excitement yields. If there were a park accessible to him, he with his family would seek it as instinctively as a plant stretches towards the light. The variedopportunities of a park would educate him and his family into the enjoyment of innocent amusements and open-air pleasures. Deprived of these, he and his are educated into the ways of disease and vice by the character of their surroundings. Who that has watched the groups of families, neighbors, and friends, that bivouac by hundreds and thousands on the parks which cluster around, adorn, and invigorate the great cities of Europe, can have failed to notice the innocent amusements and enjoyment of these crowds of young and old, or to be impressed with the fact that the influence of the natural scenes around them, of the trees and plants and flowers, of the pure air and bright skies, is a humanizing and elevating one? It is difficult to compute the value of such an influence in dollars and cents, or to measure it by any scale that the market acknowledges; but it is, nevertheless, a real, substantial, and potent one. If our large cities are the pride and boast of the republic, they also contain the greatest elements of danger to the state and the nation. Ignorance and vice, disease and crime, crowd themselves into cities. There they find their best hiding-places, their surest protection, and their most defenceless victims. It makes one tremble to think of the thousands of youth in our cities whom the school and the church do not reach, and who are moulded by these influences into the worst and lowest forms of humanity. They can not and will not go out into the country themselves, except upon some errand of violence and crime. The city should therefore bring the country to them, and give them a chance, at least, to experience its humanizing and blessed influence.
A park, or a series of parks, with its trees and running waters, its grass and plants and flowers, its variegated surface and changing views, and all the beauty with which such scenes are flooded, supplements the labor of the church and school in educating, refining, and elevating the community. There will be less gambling, drinking, and quarrelling in Boston, when the mass of its inhabitants shall be allowed to partake of the blessing and beauty of a public park.
These considerations naturally bring us to the third point which has been mentioned, viz., the economic aspect of thematter. Few will deny the truth of the above statements; but the admission of their truth is apt to be coupled with the reply, "The park will cost so much, we cannot afford it." It is true that it will cost a good deal, but not so much to each household as the inevitable cost of the sickness, vice, and death, which the opportunities that a park provides would prevent. Are human life and health and virtue so cheap, that we can afford to count the cost of procuring and maintaining them? Are vice, crime, and disease so unimportant, that we can afford to let them thrive, and propagate themselves indefinitely? We cannot repeat too often, or ponder too seriously, the statement made in the first report of the Park Commissioners: "Nothing is so costly as sickness and disease: nothing so cheap as health. Whatever promotes the former is the worst sort of extravagance: whatever fosters the latter is the truest economy." The truth is, it will cost the city of Boston more to get on without a park than to incur the expense of buying and taking care of one. We pay at present an enormous sum yearly for the maintenance of hospitals, prisons, jails, and workhouses. It is not asserted that the establishment of a park will depopulate these institutions, or render them unnecessary; but no sanitarian will deny that one result, and a most important one, of the establishment of a park, would be to diminish the number of those who are compelled to resort to these institutions. A greater economy than all this would be found to accrue to each household in the increased comfort, diminished sickness, more vigorous health, and ample enjoyment, that would be added to all its members.
Boston has been long and justly celebrated for its health, beauty, and wealth. If it loses the two first of these distinctions, how long will it retain the last? Business and population will turn away from an unhealthy and unattractive town. Defective sewerage and imperfect drainage are sapping the health; and the occupation of the suburbs by houses, manufactories, workshops, and stores, is destroying the beauty of the city. Will the merchants of Boston, whose reputation for intelligence, sagacity, and enterprise has gone out to the ends of the world, permit a false economy to blind them to the importance of this whole matter?
Of the details of the financial question, I am not qualified to speak; but I will venture a single remark. It seems only a piece of common sense to one unfamiliar with the intricate problems of finance to say, that, if the present time is one of great depression of values, it is precisely the time when a wealthy corporation like the city of Boston can purchase the land for a park at the lowest price, and therefore should do it.
Permit me to add a single word with regard to the plan proposed by the Commissioners. It offers more advantages, and fewer disadvantages, than any other that has been proposed. This might be expected, when we reflect that it was prepared in accordance with the advice of Mr.Olmstead, than whom no one is better qualified to advise in such matters. It may be safely asserted, that if Boston should accept this plan, and authorize it to be carried out, the city would possess a park unique in its character, of unrivalled beauty, and one which all our citizens, young and old, rich and poor, would greatly enjoy, and of which, if they once obtained it, they would never be bribed to dispossess themselves.
The Rev. Dr.Ellis, in his recent eloquent address at the centennial anniversary of the evacuation of Boston, used the following language, "As I read the history of our fathers in all their generations, their toil and virtue seem to me to have been the noblest, in their steady regard for the welfare and happiness of their posterity. And as I firmly believe that no single individual can follow the highest pattern of an earthly life, unless his hope and faith link on to a future, so I find it proved in all biographies and annals, that all unselfish, noble, and heroic lives are those which parents lead for their children and their children's children. We have such lives among us in city, state, and nation, private and public, high and humble." May we be true to the reputation and tradition of our fathers, and provide as intelligently for the well-being of ourselves and our posterity as they provided for themselves and for us!
I am, with great respect, very truly yours,
Edw. H. Clarke.
Arlington Street, Boston, June 6, 1876.
The President, in calling for a vote on the resolutions, said, I merely wish to say that old Faneuil Hall can stand a great deal of noise; but still I would recommend, for the benefit of future audiences, that you should not take off the roof, nor burst the windows, nor put out the gas. [Laughter.]
The resolutions were unanimously agreed to; and the following committee of a hundred, to present the result of the meeting to the city government, was appointed; the assembly dispersing shortly after ten o'clock.