FTER these pages had passed through the press, the most
vital part of Boston, commercially, was laid in ashes by the conflagration of November 9 and 10, 1872, which claims the sad eminence of being the greatest of the fires with which the town or city has from time to time been scourged. In a few short hours millions in reality took to themselves wings and were dissolved in the vapor that rose above the desert of blackened ruins, and was mournfully regarded at their homes in the vicinity by half a million spectators.
The district destroyed is mainly comprehended in Chapters IX. and XIII., and it becomes necessary to instruct the reader who peruses these chapters that he should substitute the phrase "here lies" for "here stands," where particular localities are designated.
Although the fire has swept away many of the edifices by which we indicated the habitations of the old residents, it is believed that these descriptions will not lessen the value of the work, now that they include not only the buildings lately standing, but constitute in effect a chart of the whole region destroyed as it existed previous to this disaster.
Amid the fearful devastation which has taken place, we cannot restrain a mental thanksgiving that those two monuments so dear to every Bostonian, the Old South and the Old State House, were spared, and we venture to express the hope that steeple and tower may long continue to stand in the midst of regenerated Boston,