One may, as successfully, search for that identical peck of pickled peppers, that Peter Piper picked, as for the original Hall, that Peter Faneuil built. Like Rachel’s first born, it is not. After all the reparations, and changes, and hard hammerings she has undergone, we may as well search, within the walls of Old Ironsides, for those very ribs of live oak, which, some fifty years ago, were launched, in the body of the frigate Constitution.

In the olden time, the market men, like the mourners, went “about the streets.” The inhabitants were served, at their doors. As early as 1634, Gov. Winthrop, in his journal, speaks of a market, which was kept in Boston, “on Thursday, the fifth day of the week.” This weekly market on the fifth day is mentioned, by Douglass, as of 1639, vol. i. p. 434. This, I think, refers only to a gathering of sellers and buyers, at one spot, and not to any “visible temple,” for storage and shelter. Citizens differed, as to the best method of getting their provant; some preferred the old mode, as it was supposed to save time; others were in favor of having a common point, with a covered building. Parties were formed; the citizens waxed wroth; and quarrelled about their meat, like angry dogs. Those, who were in favor of market-houses, prevailed. Three were erected; one, at the Old North Square—one, where Faneuil Hall now stands—and one, near Liberty Tree. People were no longer supplied, at their houses.

It seems very strange, that this sensible arrangement should have led to violent outrage. The malcontents assembled together, in the night, “disguised like clergymen”—the devil, sometimes assumes this exterior—and “totally demolished the centre market-house.” This occurred, about the year 1736-7, or about the time of Andrew Faneuil’s death. Such is the account of good old Thomas Pemberton. M. H. C. iii. 255.

The popular sentiment prevented the reconstruction of the centre market-house, till, in 1740, July 14, a town meeting was held to consider a petition, for this object, from Thomas Palmer and 340 others. At this meeting, it was stated, that Peter Faneuil had offered, at his own cost, to build a market-house, on the town’s land, in Dock Square, for the use of the town, if the citizens, would legally empower him so to do; place the same under proper regulations; and maintain it, for that use.

An impression has, somewhat extensively, prevailed, that Mr. Faneuil’s proposal was not courteously received, by his fellow-citizens, and that a majority of seven only were in favor of it.

On the contrary, Mr. Faneuil’s proposal was received, with the most ample demonstrations of grateful respect. There were two questions before the meeting—first: shall a vote of thanks be passed to Peter Faneuil, for his liberal offer? Secondly: shall we give up the itinerant system, and have a market-house, on any conditions? Upon the first question, there was but one mind—on the second, there were two. A vote of thanks to Mr. Faneuil was instantly passed, without a dissentient. But the second question was the vexed question, revived, and excited the passions of the people. Of 727 persons present, 367 only voted in favor of granting the petition of Palmer and others, giving a majority of seven only.

Accordingly, the work was commenced; and it was completed, Sept. 10, 1742, “on which day,” says Dr. Snow, “Mr. Samuel Ruggles, who was employed, in building the market house, waited on the selectmen, by order of P. Faneuil, Esq., and delivered them the key of said house.”

Peter was a magnificent fellow. An antiquarian friend, to whom the fancy has lineally descended, through a line of highly respectable, antiquarian ancestors, informs me, that his father handed down to him a tradition, which is certainly plausible. It runs thus: while the market-house was in progress—probably on paper—it was suggested to Peter, that, with very little additional expense, a splendid town hall might be constructed over it. Peter’s heart was quite as roomy as the market-house, and town hall together, and he cheerfully embraced the suggestion. The tradition goes a little farther—when the cost was summed up, Peter scolded—a little. Very likely. Mr. Peter Faneuil was not an exception, I presume, to the common rule.

The keys, as I have stated, were presented to the town, Sept. 10, 1742, with all that courtesy, doubtless, for which he was remarkable. Peter’s relatives and connections are somewhat numerous. The descendants of Benjamin his brother are scattered over the country. It will be equally grateful to them, and honorable to our forefathers, to exhibit a portion of the record.

Sept. 13, 1742, at a meeting, in the new hall, a vote of thanks was moved, by the Hon. John Jeffries, uncle of the late Dr. John Jeffries. In this vote, it is stated, that, whereas Peter Faneuil has, “at a very great expense, erected a noble structure, far exceeding his first proposal, inasmuch, as it contains, not only a large and sufficient accommodation for a market place, but a spacious and most beautiful town hall over it, and several other convenient rooms, which may prove very beneficial to the town, for offices or otherwise. And the said building being now finished, he has delivered possession thereof to the selectmen for the use of the town; it is therefore voted, that the town do, with the utmost gratitude, receive and accept this most generous and noble benefaction, for the use and intentions it is designed for; and do appoint the Hon. Thomas Cushing Esquire, the moderator of this meeting, the Hon. Adam Winthrop, Edward Hutchinson, Ezekiel Lewis, and Samuel Waldo, Esquires, Thomas Hutchinson, Esq. the selectmen and representatives of the town of Boston, the Hon. Jacob Wendell, James Bowdoin, Esq., Andrew Oliver, Esq., Captain Nathaniel Cunningham, Peter Chardon, Esq., and Mr. Charles Apthorp, to wait upon Peter Faneuil, Esq., and in the name of the town, to render him their most hearty thanks, for so bountiful a gift, with their prayers, that this and other expressions of his bounty and charity may be abundantly recompensed with the divine blessing.”

In addition to this vote, the citizens passed another, that the hall should be called Faneuil Hall, forever; and that the portrait of Faneuil should be painted, at full length, and placed therein. On the 14th of March, 1744, a vote was passed “to purchase the Faneuil arms, carved and gilt, by Moses Deshon, to be fixed in the hall.”

Pemberton says—“Previous to the Revolution, the portraits of Mr. Faneuil, General Conway, and Colonel BarrÉ were procured by the town, and hung up in the hall. It is supposed they were carried off by the British.” The portrait of Faneuil at present, in the hall, was painted by Henry Sargent, from the portrait, presented to the Massachusetts Historical Society, by Miss Jones, a grandchild of Peter’s sister, Mary Ann.

The original building was but half the width of the present, and but two stories high. The hall could contain but 1000 persons. In the memorable fire of Tuesday, Jan. 13, 1761, Faneuil Hall was destroyed, and nothing left standing but the walls. On the 23d of the following March, the town voted to rebuild, and the State authorized a lottery, to meet the expense. There were several classes. A ticket, of the seventh class, lies before me, bearing date March, 1767, with the spacious autograph of John Hancock, at the bottom.

The building retained its primitive proportions, till 1806, when, the occasions of the public requiring its enlargement, its width was increased, from 40 to 80 feet, and a third story added. A very simple rule may be furnished, for those, who would compare the size of the present building, with that of the genuine Peter Faneuil Hall. Take a northeast view of the Hall—there are seven windows before you, in each story—run a perpendicular line, from the ground, through the centre of the middle window to the top of the belt, at the bottom of the third story—carry a straight line from that point nearly to the top of the second window, on the right, in the third story. That point is the apex of the old pediment. From that point, draw the corresponding roof line down to the belt, at the corner; and you have a profile of the ancient structure; all which is well exhibited by Dr. Snow, on the plan, in his History of Boston.

Small as the original structure may appear, when compared with the present, it was a magnificent donation, for the times. It may well be considered a munificent gift, from a single individual, in 1742, when we consider, that its repairs, in 1761, were accomplished, by the aid of the Commonwealth, and the creation of a lottery, which continued to curse the community, for several years.

Peter Faneuil was then in all his glory. How readily, by the power of Imagination, I raise him from the dead, bolt upright; with his over portly form, and features full of bon homie; speaking volumes, about those five pipes of amber-colored Madeira, such as his friend Delancey had; and that best book of all sorts of cookery, of a large character, for the maid’s reading! There he is, at the door of his English chariot, “handsome, but nothing gaudy,” with his arms thereon, and his English coachman, and his English horses, and that “strait negro lad” perched behind. I see him now, helping in Miss Mary Anne, his youngest maiden sister; and, as he ascends the steps, wrapping his cloak around him, trimmed with that identical “scarlet cloth of the very best quality.”

The vanity of man’s anticipations, the occasional suddenness of his summons away—seldom find a more graphic illustration, than in the case of this noble hearted, and most hospitable gentleman. When he received the grateful salutations of the magnates of the town, who came to thank him, for his munificence, what could have been so little in his thoughts, or in theirs, as the idea, that he was so soon to die!

In about five years—five, short, luxurious years—after the death of Andrew Faneuil, Peter, his favorite nephew, was committed to the ground, March 10, 1742, old style. The event, from its suddenness, and from the amiable and benevolent character of the individual, produced a deep sensation, in the village, for Boston was nothing but a seashore village then. In 1728, some fourteen years before, we learn from Douglass, i. 531, that there were but 3000 rateable polls, on the peninsula. This event was unexpected, by the living, and had been equally unexpected, by the dead. Death came to Peter, like a thief in the stilly night. He had not looked for this unwelcome visitor. He had made no will. By this event, Benjamin came into possession; and old Andrew is supposed to have turned over, indignantly, in his coffin.