Street, directly opposite Gore Hall, was built by the Rev. East Apthorp, D. D., son of Charles Apthorp, an eminent Boston merchant of Welsh descent. It was probably erected in 1761, the year in which Dr. Apthorp was settled in Cambridge, and was regarded, on account of its elegance and proximity to the University, with peculiar distrust by Mayhew and his orthodox contemporaries. It was thought that if the ministerial plan was carried out Dr. Apthorp had an eye to the Episcopate, and his mansion was alluded to as "the palace of one of the humble successors of the Apostles." So uncomfortable did his antagonists render his ministry, that Dr. Apthorp gave up his charge and removed to England in the latter part of 1764. The pleasant old house seems next to have been occupied by John Borland, a merchant of the capital, who abandoned it on the breaking out of hostilities, and took refuge in Boston, where he died the same year (1775) from the effects of a fall. Under the new order of things the mansion became the headquarters of the Connecticut troops, with Old Put at their head, on their arrival at Cambridge, and Putnam probably remained there until after.the battle of Bunker Hill. It continued a barrack, occupied by three companies, until finally cleared and taken possession of by the Committee of Safety, the then executive authority of the province. Its next inhabitant was "John Burgoyne, Esquire, lieutenant-general of his Majesty's armies in America, colonel of the queen's regiment of light dragoons, governor of Fort William in North Britain, one of the representatives of the Commons of Great Britain, and commanding an army and fleet on an expedition from Canada," etc., etc., etc. Such is a faithful enumeration of the titles of this illustrious Gascon as prefixed to his bombastic proclamation, and which must have left the herald breathless long ere he arrived at the "Whereas." For a pithy history of the campaign which led to Burgoyne's enforced residence here, commend us to the poet : "Burgoyne gaed up, like spur an' whip, Till Fraser brave did fa', man ; In Saratoga shaw, man." - The house fronts towards Mount Auburn Street, and overlooked the river when Cambridge was yet a conservative, oldfashioned country town. That street was then the high-road, which wound around the foot of the garden, making a sharp curve to the north where it is now joined by Harvard Street. It was, therefore, no lack of respect to the Rev. Edward Holyoke, the inhabitant of the somewhat less pretending dwelling of the College presidents, that caused Dr. Apthorp to turn his back in his direction. The true front bears a strong family resemblance to the Vassall-Longfellow mansion, the design of which was perhaps. followed by the architect of this. The wooden balustrade which surmounted, and at the same time relieved, the bare outline of the roof was swept away in the great September gale of 1815. A third story, which makes the house look like an ill-assorted pair joined in matrimonial bands for life, is said to be the work of Mr. Borland, who required additional space for his household slaves. The line of the old cornice shows where the roof was separated from the original structure. The position of the outbuildings, now huddled together in close contact with the house, has been changed by the stress of those circumstances which have from time to time denuded the estate of portions of its ancient belongings. The clergyman's grounds extended to Holyoke Street on the one hand, and for an equal distance on the other, and were entered by the carriage-drive from the side of Harvard Street. As it now stands, about equidistant from the avenues in front and rear, it seems a patrician of the old régime, withdrawing itself instinctively from contact with its upstart neighbors. The house which John Adams's apprehensions converted into a Lambeth Palace was, happily for its occupant, never the seat of an Episcopal see, or it might have shared the fate with which Wat Tyler's bands visited the ancient castellated residence of the Archbishops of Canterbury. We found the interior of the house worthy of inspection. There is a broad, generous hall, with its staircase railed in with the curiously wrought balusters, which the taste of the times required to be different in form and design. A handsome reception-room opens at the left, a library at the right. The former was the state apartment, and a truly elegant one. The ceilings are high, and the wainscots, panels, and mouldings were enriched with carvings. The fireplace has still the blue Dutch tiles with their Scripture allegories, and the ornamental fire-back is in its place. Directly above is the state chamber, a luxurious apartment within and without. We say without, for we looked down upon the gardens, with their box-bordered walks and their unfolding beauties of leaf and flower, the fruit-trees dressed in bridal blossoms, the Pyrus Japonica in its gorgeous crimson bloom, with white-starred Spirea and Deutzia gracilis enshrouded in their fragrant mists. "A brave old house! a garden full of bees, In this bedchamber, which wooed the slumbers of the sybarite Burgoyne, the walls are formed in panels, ornamented with paper representing fruit, landscapes, ruins, etc.,- a species of decoration both rare and costly at the period when the house was built. Mr. Jonathan Simpson, Jr., who married a daughter of Mr. Borland, became the proprietor after the old war. Mrs. Manning, a later occupant, had lived to see many changes from her venerable roof, and the prediction that her prospect would never be impaired answered by the overtopping walls of contiguous buildings. We crave the reader's indulgence while we return for a moment upon our own footsteps to Dana Hill, upon which we have hitherto traced the defensive lines. The family for whom the eminence is named have been distinguished in law, politics, and letters, from Richard Dana, of pre-Revolutionary fame, to his descendants of to-day. The Dana mansion, surrounded by beautiful grounds, formerly stood some two hundred feet back from the present Main Street, and between Ellery and Dana Streets. It was a |