Where the stone church is now situated, there was formerly an old gambrel-roofed house, in which the Moore family lived during the Revolution.  The situation was very favorable for observation, commanding the highroad from Watertown to Cambridge Common, and directly opposite the great elm.  From the windows of this house the spectators saw the ceremony to good advantage, and one of them, styled, in 1848, the “venerable Mrs. Moore,” lived to point out the tree, and describe the glories of the occasion, seventy-five years afterward.  Fathers, who were eyewitnesses standing beneath this tree, have told the story to their sons, and those sons have not yet passed away.  There is no possibility that we are paying our vows at a counterfeit shrine.

Great events which mark epochs in history, bestow an imperishable dignity even upon the meanest objects with which they are associated.  When Washington drew his sword beneath the branches, the great elm, thus distinguished above its fellows, passed at once into history, henceforward to be known as the Washington Elm.

    “Under the brave old tree
  Our fathers gathered in arms, and swore
  They would follow the sign their banners bore,
    And fight till the land was free.”—­Holmes.

The elm was often honored by the presence of Washington, who, it is said, had a platform built among the branches, where, we may suppose, he used to ponder over the plans of the campaign.  The Continental army, born within the shade of the old tree, overflowing the Common, converted Cambridge into a fortified camp.  Here, too, the flag of thirteen stripes for the first time swung to the breeze.

These were the palmy days of the elm.  When the tide of war set away from New England, the Washington Elm fell into unmerited neglect.  The struggling patriots had no time for sentiment; and when the war came to an end they were too busy in shaping the conduct of the government, and in repairing their shattered fortunes, to pay much attention to trees.  It was not until the great actors in those days were rapidly passing away, that their descendants turned with an affectionate regard to the enduring monuments inseparably associated with the fathers.  Among these, the Washington Elm deservedly holds a high rank.

On the third of July, 1875, the citizens of Cambridge celebrated the one hundredth anniversary of Washington’s assuming the command of the army.  The old tree was the central figure of the occasion.  The American flag floated above the topmost branches, and a profusion of smaller flags waved amid the foliage.  Never tree received a more enthusiastic ovation.

It is enclosed by a circular iron fence erected by the Reverend Daniel Austin.  Outside the fence, but under the branches, stands a granite tablet erected by the city of Cambridge, upon which is cut an inscription written by Longfellow:—­

    UNDER THIS TREE
      WASHINGTON
  FIRST TOOK COMMAND
        OF THE
    AMERICAN ARMY,
    JULY 3D, 1775.