GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 HISTORY FOR YOUTH. 
 
 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY 
 150 WORTH STREET, CORNER MISSION PLACE 
 
a 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IN writing this ponderous tome, the author s desire 
 has been to describe the eminent characters and re 
 markable events of our early annals in such a form 
 and style that the YOUNG might make acquaintance 
 with them of their own accord. For this purpose, 
 while ostensibly relating the adventures of a chair, 
 he has endeavored to keep a distinct and unbroken 
 thread of authentic history. The chair is made to 
 pass from one to another of those personages of whom 
 he thought it most desirable for the young reader to 
 have vivid and familiar ideas, and whose lives and ac 
 tions would best enable him to give picturesque 
 sketches of the times. 
 
 There is certainly no method by which the shadowy 
 outlines of departed men and women can be made to 
 assume the hues of life more effectually than by con 
 necting their images with the substantial and homely 
 reality of a fireside chair. It causes us to feel at once 
 that these characters of history had a private and fa 
 miliar existence, and were not wholly contained with 
 in that cold array of outward action which we are 
 compelled to receive as the adequate representation 
 of their lives. If this impression can be given, much 
 is accomplished. 
 
 M101305 
 
* PREFACE. 
 
 Setting aside Grandfather and his auditors, and ex 
 cepting the adventures of the chair, which form the 
 machinery of the work, nothing in the ensuing pages 
 can be termed fictitious. The author, it is true, has 
 sometimes assumed the license of filling up the out 
 line of history with details for which he has none but 
 imaginative authority, but which, he hopes, do not 
 violate nor give a false coloring to the truth. He be 
 lieves that, in this respect, his narrative will not be 
 found to convey ideas and impressions of which the 
 reader may hereafter find it necessary to purge his 
 mind. 
 
 The author s great doubt is, whether he has suc 
 ceeded in writing a book which will be readable by 
 the class for whom he intends it. To make a lively 
 and entertaining narrative for children, with such un- 
 malleable material as is presented by the sombre, 
 stern, and rigid characteristics of the Puritans and 
 their descendants, is quite as difficult an attempt as 
 to manufacture delicate playthings out of the granite 
 rocks on which New England is founded. 
 
 BOSTON, November, 1840. 
 
GRANDFATHER S 
 
 CHAPTER I.:, , .7, *"; ;. , 
 
 GRANDFATHER had been sitting in his old arm-chair 
 all that pleasant afternoon, while the children were 
 pursuing their various sports far off or near at hand. 
 Sometimes you would have said, " Grandfather is 
 asleep ! " but still, even when his eyes were closed, 
 his thoughts were with the young people, playing 
 among the flowers and shrubbery of the garden. 
 
 He heard the voice of Laurence, who had taken 
 possession of a heap of decayed branches which the 
 gardener had lopped from the fruit trees, and was 
 building a little hut for his cousin Clara and himself, 
 lie heard Clara s gladsome voice, too, as she weeded 
 and watered the flower-bed which had been given her 
 for her own. lie could have counted every footstep 
 that Charley took, as he trundled his wheelbarrow 
 along the gravel walk. And though Grandfather was 
 old and gray-haired, yet his heart leaped with joy 
 whenever little Alice came fluttering, like a butterfly, 
 into the room. She had made each of the children 
 
6 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 her playmate in turn, and now made Grandfather her 
 playmate too, and thought him the merriest of them 
 all. 
 
 At last the children grew weary of their sports ; 
 because a summer afternoon is like a long lifetime to 
 the young. So they came into the room together, and 
 clustered round Grandfather s great chair. Little 
 Alice, who was hardly five years old, took the privi 
 lege of the youngest, and climbed his knee. It was a 
 pleasant thing to behold that fair and golden-haired 
 child , iii ;t)) 4 Jap of, the old man, and to think that, 
 diffe rent as tliey-were, the hearts of both could be 
 glf^cjerfeft with. tli6 same joys. 
 
 <T Grandfather," said little Alice, laying her head 
 back upon his arm, " I am very tired now. You must 
 tell me a story to make me go to sleep." 
 
 " That is not what story-tellers like," answered 
 Grandfather, smiling. " They are better satisfied 
 when they can keep their auditors awake." 
 
 " But here are Laurence, and Charley, and I," cried 
 cousin Clara, who was twice as old as little Alice. 
 " We will all three keep wide awake. And pray, 
 Grandfather, tell us a story about this strange-looking 
 old chair." 
 
 Now, the chair in which Grandfather sat was made 
 of oak, which had grown dark with age, but had been 
 rubbed and polished till it shone as bright as mahog 
 any. It was very large and heavy, and had a back 
 that rose high above Grandfather s white head. This 
 back was curiously carved in open work, so as to rep 
 resent flowers, and foliage, and other devices, which 
 the children had often gazed at, but could never un 
 derstand what they meant. On the very tiptop of 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 7 
 
 the chair, over the head of Grandfather himself, was 
 a likeness of a lion s head, which had such a savage 
 grin that you would almost expect to hear it growl 
 and snarl. 
 
 The children had seen Grandfather sitting in this 
 chair ever since they could remember anything. Per 
 haps the younger of them supposed that he and the 
 chair had come into the world together, and that both 
 had always been as old as they were now. At this 
 time, however, it happened to be the fashion for la 
 dies to adorn their drawing-rooms with the oldest and 
 oddest chairs that could be found. It seemed to 
 cousin Clara that, if these ladies could have seen 
 Grandfather s old chair, they would have thought it 
 worth all the rest together. She wondered if it were 
 not even older than Grandfather himself, and longed 
 to know all about its history. 
 
 " Do, Grandfather, talk to us about this chair," she 
 repeated. 
 
 "Well, child," said Grandfather, patting Clara s 
 cheek, " I can tell you a great many stories of my 
 chair. Perhaps your cousin Laurence would like to 
 hear them too. They will teach him something 
 about the history and distinguished people of his 
 country which he has never read in any of his school- 
 books." 
 
 Cousin Laurence was a boy of twelve, a bright 
 scholar, in whom an early thoughtfulness and sensi 
 bility began to show themselves. His young fancy 
 kindled at the idea of knowing all the adventures of 
 this venerable chair. lie looked eagerly in Grand 
 father s face ; and even Charley, a bold, brisk, restless 
 little fellow of nine,. sat himself down on the carpet, 
 
8 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 and resolved to be quiet for at least ten minutes, should 
 the story last so long. 
 
 Meantime, little Alice was already asleep ; so Grand 
 father, being much pleased with such an attentive audi 
 ence, began to talk about matters that had happened 
 long ago. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 BUT before relating the adventures of the chair, 
 Grandfather found it necessary to speak of the circum 
 stances that caused the first settlement of New Eng 
 land. For it will soon be perceived that the story of 
 this remarkable chair cannot be told without telling a 
 great deal of the history of the country. 
 
 So Grandfather talked about the Puritans, as those 
 persons were called who thought it sinful to practise 
 the religious forms and ceremonies which the Church 
 of England had borrowed from the Roman Catholics. 
 These Puritans suffered so much persecution in Eng 
 land, that, in 1G07, many of them went over to Hol 
 land, and lived ten or twelve years at Amsterdam and 
 Leyden. But they feared that, if they continued there 
 much longer, they should cease to be English, and 
 should adopt all the manners, and ideas, and feelings 
 of the Dutch. For this and other reasons, in the year 
 1620 they embarked on board of the ship Mayflower, 
 and crossed the ocean, to the shores of Cape Cod. 
 There they made a settlement, and called it Plymouth, 
 which, though now a part of Massachusetts, was for a 
 long time a colony by itself. And thus was formed 
 the earliest settlement of the Puritans in America. 
 
 Meantime, those of the Puritans who remained in 
 England continued to suffer grievous persecutions on 
 account of their religious opinions. They began to 
 look around them for some spot where they might wor- 
 
10 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 ship God, not as the king and bishops thought fit, but 
 according to the dictates of their own consciences. 
 When their brethren had gone from Holland to 
 America, they bethought themselves that they like 
 wise might find refuge from persecution there. Several 
 gentlemen among them purchased a tract of country on 
 the coast of Massachusetts Bay, and obtained a charter 
 from King Charles, which authorized them to make 
 laws for the settlers. In the year 1628 they sent over 
 a few people, with John Endicott at their head, to com 
 mence a plantation at Salem. Peter Palfrey, Roger 
 Con ant, and one or two more had built houses there 
 in 1626, and may be considered as the first settlers of 
 that ancient town. Many other Puritans prepared to 
 follow Endicott. 
 
 " And now we come to the chair, my dear children," 
 said Grandfather. " This chair is supposed to have 
 been made of an oak tree which grew in the park of 
 the English earl of lincoln between two and three 
 centuries ago. In its younger days it used, probably, 
 to stand in the hall of the earl s castle. Do not 
 you see the coat of arms of the family of Lincoln 
 carved in the open-work of the back ? But when 
 his daughter, the Lady Arbella, was married to a 
 certain Mr. Johnson, the earl gave her this valuable 
 chair." 
 
 " Who was Mr. Johnson ? " inquired Clara. 
 
 " He was a gentleman of great wealth, who agreed 
 with the Puritans in their religious opinions," an 
 swered Grandfather. " And as his belief was the 
 same as theirs, he resolved that he would live and die 
 with them. Accordingly, in the month of April, 1630, 
 he left his pleasant abode and all his comforts in Eng- 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 11 
 
 land, and embarked, with Lady Arbella, on board of 
 a ship bound for America." 
 
 As Grandfather was frequently impeded by the 
 questions and observations of his young auditors, we 
 deem it advisable to omit all such prattle as is not 
 essential to the story. We have taken some pains to 
 find out exactly what Grandfather said, and here offer 
 to our readers, as nearly as possible in his own words, 
 the story of 
 
 THE LADY AKBELLA. 
 
 The ship in which Mr. Johnson and his lady em 
 barked, taking Grandfather s chair along with them, 
 was called the Arbella, in honor of the lady herself. 
 A fleet of ten or twelve vessels, with many hundred 
 passengers, left England about the same time ; for a 
 multitude of people, who were discontented with the 
 king s government and oppressed by the bishops, were 
 flocking over to the new world. One of the vessels 
 in the fleet was that same Mayflower which had carried 
 the Puritan pilgrims to Plymouth. And now, my 
 children, I would have you fancy yourselves in the 
 cabin of the good ship Arbella ; because if you could 
 behold the passengers aboard that vessel, you would 
 feel what a blessing and honor it was for New Eng 
 land to have such settlers. They were the best men 
 and women of their day. 
 
 Among the passengers was John "Winthrop, who had 
 sold the estate of his forefathers, and was going to 
 prepare a new home for his wife and children in the 
 wilderness, lie had the king s charter in his keeping, 
 and was appointed the first Governor of Massachusetts. 
 
12 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Imagine him a person of grave and benevolent aspect, 
 dressed in a black velvet suit, with a broad ruff around 
 his neck, and a peaked beard upon his chin. There 
 was likewise a minister of the gospel whom the Eng 
 lish bishops had forbidden to preach, but who knew 
 that he should have liberty both to preach and pray 
 in the forests of America. He wore a black cloak, 
 called a Geneva* cloak, and had a black velvet cap, 
 fitting close to his head, as was the fashion of almost 
 all the Puritan clergymen. In their company came 
 Sir Richard Saltonstall, who had been one of the five 
 first projectors of the new colony. He soon returned 
 to his native country. But his descendants still remain 
 in New England ; and the good old family name is as 
 much respected in our days as it was in those of Sir 
 Richard. 
 
 Not only these, but several other men of wealth 
 and pious ministers were in the cabin of the Arbella. 
 One had banished himself forever from the old hall 
 where his ancestors had lived for hundreds of years. 
 Another had left his quiet parsonage, in a country- 
 town of England. Others had come from the uni 
 versities of Oxford or Cambridge, where they had 
 gained great fame for their learning. And here they 
 all were, tossing upon the uncertain and dangerous 
 sea, and bound for a home that was more dangerous 
 than even the sea itself. In the cabin, likewise, sat 
 the Lady Arbella in her chair, with a gentle and 
 sweet expression on her face, but looking too pale and 
 feeble to endure the hardships of the wilderness. 
 
 Every morning and evening the Lady Arbella gave 
 up her great chair to one of the ministers, who took 
 his place in it aiic! read passages from the Bible to his 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 13 
 
 companions. And thus, with prayers, and pious con 
 versation, and frequent singing of hymns, which the 
 breezes caught from their lips and scattered far over 
 the desolate waves, they prosecuted their voyage, and 
 sailed into the harbour of Salem in the month of 
 June. 
 
 At that period there were but six or eight dwellings 
 in the town ; and these were miserable hovels, with 
 roofs of straw and wooden chimneys. The passengers 
 in the fleet either built huts with bark and branches 
 of trees, or erected tents of cloth till they could pro 
 vide themselves with better shelter. Many of them 
 went to form a settlement at Charlestown. It was 
 thought fit that the Lady Arbella should tarry in 
 Salem for a time : she was probably received as a 
 guest into the family of John Endicott. He was the 
 chief person in the plantation, and had the only com 
 fortable house which the new-comers had beheld since 
 they left England. So now, children, you must im 
 agine Grandfather s chair in the midst of a new scene. 
 
 Suppose it a hot summer s day, and the lattice-win 
 dows of a chamber in Mr. Endicott s house thrown 
 wide open. The Lady Arbella, looking paler than 
 she did on shipboard, is sitting in her chair and think 
 ing mournfully of far-off England. She rises and 
 goes to the window. There, amid patches of garden 
 ground and cornfield, she sees the few wretched hov 
 els of the settlers, with the still ruder wigwams and 
 cloth tents of the passengers who had arrived in the 
 same fleet with herself. Far and near stretches the 
 dismal forest of pine trees, which throw their black 
 shadows over the whole land, and likewise over the 
 heart of this poor lady. 
 
14 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 All the inhabitants of the little village are busy. 
 One is clearing a spot on the verge of the forest for 
 his homestead ; another is hewing the trunk of a fallen 
 pine tree, in order to build himself a dwelling ; a third 
 is hoeing in his field of Indian corn. Here comes a 
 huntsman out of the woods, dragging a bear which he 
 has shot, and shouting to the neighbors to lend him a 
 hand. There goes a man to the sea-shore, with a 
 spade and a bucket, to dig a mess of clams, which 
 were a principal article of food with the first settlers. 
 Scattered here and there are two or three dusky fig 
 ures, clad in mantles of fur, with ornaments of bone 
 hanging from their ears, and the feathers of wild birds 
 in their coal black hair. They have belts of shell- 
 work slung across their shoulders, and are armed with 
 bows and arrows and flint-headed spears. These are 
 an Indian Sagamore and his attendants, who have 
 come to gaze at the labors of the white men. And 
 now rises a cry that a pack of wolves have seized a 
 young calf in the pasture ; and every man snatches 
 up his gun or pike and runs in chase of the maraud 
 ing beasts. 
 
 Poor Lady Arbella watches all these sights, and 
 feels that this new world is fit only for rough and 
 hardy people. None should be here but those who 
 can struggle with wild beasts and wild men, and can 
 toil in the heat or cold, and can keep their hearts firm 
 against all difficulties and dangers. But she is not 
 one of these. Her gentle and timid spirit sinks 
 within her ; and, turning away from the window, 
 she sits down in the great chair and wonders where 
 abouts in the wilderness her friends will dig her 
 grave. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 15 
 
 Mr. Johnson had gone, with Governor Winthrop 
 and most of the other passengers, to Boston, where 
 lie intended to build a house for Lady Arbella and 
 himself. Boston was then covered with wild woods, 
 and had fewer inhabitants, even, than Salem. Dur 
 ing her husband s absence, poor Lady Arbella felt 
 herself growing ill, and was hardly able to stir from 
 the great chair. Whenever John Endicott noticed 
 her despondency, he doubtless addressed her with 
 words of comfort. "Cheer up, my good lady ! " he 
 would say. " In a little time, you will love this rude 
 life of the wilderness as I do." But Eridicott s heart 
 was as bold and resolute as iron, and he could not un 
 derstand why a woman s heart should not be of iron 
 too. 
 
 Still, however, he spoke kindly to the lady, and 
 then hastened forth to till his corn-field and set out 
 fruit trees, or to bargain with the Indians for furs, or 
 perchance to oversee the building of a fort. Also, be 
 ing a magistrate, he had often to punish some idler or 
 evil doer, by ordering him to be set in the stocks or 
 scourged at the whipping-post. Often, too, as was 
 the custom of the times, he and Mr. Iligginson, the 
 minister of Salem, held long religious talks together. 
 Thus John Endicott was a man of multifarious busi 
 ness, and had no time to look back regretfully to his 
 native land. lie felt himself fit for the New World 
 and for the work that he had to do, and set himself 
 resolutely to accomplish it. 
 
 What a contrast, my dear children, between this 
 bold, rough, active man, and the gentle Lady Arbella, 
 who was fading away, like a pale English flower, in 
 the shadow of the forest ! And now the great chair 
 
16 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 was often empty, because Lady Arbella grew toft 
 weak to arise from bed. 
 
 Meantime, her husband had pitched upon a spot, 
 for their new home. He returned from Boston to 
 Salem, travelling through the woods on foot, and lean 
 ing on his pilgrim s staff. His heart yearned within 
 him ; for he was eager to tell his wife of the new 
 home which he had chosen. But when he beheld her 
 pale and hollow cheek, and found how her strength 
 was wasted, he must have known that her appointed 
 home was in a better land. Happy for him then- 
 happy both for him and her if they remembered 
 that there was a path to heaven, as well from this 
 heathen wilderness as from the Christian land whence 
 they had come. And so, in one short month from 
 her arrival, the gentle Lady Arbella faded away and 
 died. They dug a grave for her in the new soil, 
 where the roots of the pine trees impeded their 
 spades ; and when her bones had rested there nearly 
 two hundred years, and a city had sprung up around 
 them, a church of stone was built upon the spot. 
 
 Charley, almost at the commencement of the fore 
 going narrative, had galloped away, with a prodigious 
 clatter, upon Grandfather s stick, and was not yet re 
 turned. So large a boy should have been ashamed to 
 ride upon a stick. But Laurence and Clara had lis 
 tened attentively, and were affected by this true story 
 of the gentle lady who had come so far to die so soon. 
 Grandfather had supposed that little Alice was asleep ; 
 but towards the close of the story, happening to look 
 down upon her, he saw that her blue eyes were wide 
 open, and fixed earnestly upon his face. The tears 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 17 
 
 had gathered in them, like dew upon a delicate flow 
 er ; but when Grandfather ceased to speak, the sun 
 shine of her smile broke forth again. 
 
 " Oh, the lady must have been so glad to get to 
 heaven ! " exclaimed little Alice. 
 
 " Grandfather, what became of Mr. Johnson ? J> 
 asked Clara. 
 
 " His heart appears to have been quite broken," an 
 swered Grandfather ; " for he died at Boston within 
 a month after the death of his wife. He was buried 
 in the very same tract of ground where he had intend 
 ed to build a dwelling for Lady Arbella and himself. 
 Where their house would have stood, there was his 
 grave." 
 
 " I never heard anything so melancholy ! " said Clara. 
 
 " The people loved and respected Mr. Johnson so 
 much," continued Grandfather, " that it was the last 
 request of many of them, when they died, that they 
 might be buried as near as possible to this good man s 
 grave. And so the field became the first burial-ground 
 in Boston. When you pass through Tremont Street, 
 along by King s Chapel, you see a burial-ground, con 
 taining many old grave-stones and monuments. That 
 was Mr. Johnson s field." 
 
 " How sad is the thought," observed Clara, " that 
 one of the first things which the settlers had to do, 
 when they came to the New World, was to set apart 
 a burial-ground ! " 
 
 " Perhaps," said Laurence, " if they had found no 
 need of burial-grounds here, they would have been 
 glad, after a few years, to go back to England." 
 
 Grandfather looked at Laurence, to discover whether 
 lie knew how profound and true a thing he had said 
 2 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 long after Grandfather had told the story of 
 his great chair, there chanced to be a rainy day. Our 
 friend Charley, after disturbing the household with 
 beat of drum and riotous shouts, races up and down 
 the staircase, overturning of chairs, and much other 
 uproar, began to feel the quiet and confinement with 
 in doors intolerable. But as the rain came down in a 
 flood, the little fellow was hopelessly a prisoner, and 
 now stood with sullen aspect at a window, wondering 
 whether the sun itself were not extinguished by so 
 much moisture in the sky. 
 
 Charley had already exhausted the less eager activ 
 ity of the other children ; and they had betaken them 
 selves to occupations that did not admit of his com 
 panionship. Laurence sat in a recess near the book 
 case, reading, not for the first time, the Midsummer 
 Night s Dream. Clara was making a rosary of beads 
 for a little figure of a Sister of Charity, who was to 
 attend the Bunker Hill fair and lend her aid in erect 
 ing the Monument. Little Alice sat on Grandfather s 
 footstool, with a picture book in her hand ; and, for 
 every picture, the child was telling Grandfather a 
 story. She did not read from the book (for little 
 Alice had not much skill in reading), but told the 
 story out of her own heart and mind. 
 
 Charley was too big a boy, of course, to care any 
 thing about little Alice s stories, although Grandfather 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 19 
 
 appeared to listen with a good deal of interest. 
 Often, in a young child s ideas and fancies, there is 
 something which it requires the thought of a lifetime 
 to comprehend. But Charley was of opinion that, if 
 a story must be told, it had better be told by Grand 
 father than little Alice. 
 
 " Grandfather, I want to hear more about you\ 
 chair," said he. 
 
 Now, Grandfather remembered that Charley had 
 galloped away upon a stick in the midst of the narra 
 tive of poor Lady Arbella, and I know not whether 
 he would have thought it worth while to tell another 
 story merely to gratify such an inattentive auditor as 
 Charley. But Laurence laid down his book and sec 
 onded the request. Clara drew her chair nearer to 
 Grandfather ; and little Alice immediately closed her 
 picture book and looked up into his face. Grand 
 father had not the heart to disappoint them. 
 
 He mentioned several persons who had a share in 
 the settlement of our country, and who would be well 
 worthy of remembrance, if we could find room to tell 
 about them all. Among the rest, Grandfather spoke 
 of the famous Hugh Peters, a minister of the gospel, 
 who did much good to the inhabitants of Salem. 
 Mr. Peters afterwards went back to England, and 
 was chaplain to Oliver Cromwell ; but Grandfather 
 did riot tell the children what became of this upright 
 and zealous man at last. In fact, his auditors were 
 growing impatient to hear more about the history of 
 the chair. 
 
 " After the death of Mr. Johnson," said he, 
 " Grandfather s chair came into the possession of 
 Roger Williams. He was a clergyman, who arrived 
 
20 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 at Salem, and settled there in 1631. Doubtless the 
 good man has spent many a studious hour in this old 
 chair, either penning a sermon or reading some ab 
 struse book of theology, till midnight came upon him 
 unawares. At that period, as there were few lamps 
 or candles to be had, people used to read or work by 
 the light of pitchpine torches. These supplied the 
 place of the midnight oil to the learned men of 
 New England." 
 
 Grandfather went on to talk about Roger Williams, 
 and told the children several particulars, which we 
 have not room to repeat. One incident, however, 
 which was connected with his life, must be related, 
 because it will give the reader an idea of the opinions 
 and feelings of the first settlers of New England. It 
 was as follows : 
 
 THE RED CROSS. 
 
 While Roger Williams sat in Grandfather s chair 
 at his humble residence in Salem, John Endicott 
 would often come to visit him. As the clergy had 
 great influence in temporal concerns, the minister and 
 magistrate would talk over the occurrences of the day, 
 and consult how the people might be governed ac 
 cording to scriptural laws. 
 
 One thing especially troubled them both. In the 
 old national banner of England, under which her sol 
 diers have fought for hundreds of years, there is a 
 Red Cross, which has been there ever since the days 
 when England was in subjection to the pope. The 
 Cross, though a holy symbol, was abhorred by the 
 Puritans, because they considered it a relic of popish 
 idolatry. Now, whenever the train-band of Salem 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 21 
 
 was mustered, the soldiers, with Endicott at their 
 head, had no other flag to march tinder than this same 
 old papistical banner of England, with the Red Cross 
 in the midst of it. The banner of the Red Cross, 
 likewise, was flying on the walls of the fort of Salem ; 
 and a similar one was displayed in Boston harbour, 
 from the fortress on Castle Island. 
 
 "I profess, Brother Williams," Captain Endicott 
 would say, after they had been talking of this matter, 
 " it distresses a Christian man s heart to see this idola 
 trous Cross flying over our heads. A stranger, behold 
 ing it, would think that we had undergone all our 
 hardships and dangers, by sea and in the wilderness, 
 only to get new dominions for the Pope of Rome." 
 
 " Truly, good Mr. Endicott," Roger Williams would 
 answer, " you speak as an honest man and Protestant 
 Christian should. For mine own part, were it my 
 business to draw a spvord, I should reckon it sinful to 
 fight under such a banner. Neither can I, in my pul 
 pit, ask the blessing of Heaven upon it." 
 
 Such, probably, was the way in which Roger Wil 
 liams and John Endicott used to talk about the ban 
 ner of the Red Cross. Endicott, who was a prompt 
 and resolute man, soon determined that Massachusetts, 
 if she could not have a banner of her own, should at 
 least be delivered from that of the Pope of Rome. 
 
 Not long afterwards there was a military muster at 
 Salem. Every ablebodied man in the town and 
 neighbourhood was there. All were well armed, with 
 steel caps upon their heads, plates of iron upon their 
 breasts and at their backs, and gorgets of steel around 
 their necks. When the sun shone upon these ranks 
 of iron-clad men, they flashed and blazed with a splen- 
 
22 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 dor that bedazzled the wild Indians who had come 
 out of the woods to gaze at them. The soldiers had 
 long pikes, swords, and muskets, which were fired 
 with matches, and were almost as heavy as a small 
 cannon. 
 
 These men had mostly a stern and rigid aspect 
 To judge by their looks, you might have supposed 
 that there was as much iron in their hearts as there 
 was upon their heads and breasts. They were all de 
 voted Puritans, and of the same temper as those with 
 whom Oliver Cromwell afterwards overthrew the 
 throne of England. They hated all the relics of 
 popish superstition as much as Endicott himself ; and 
 yet over their heads was displayed the banner of the 
 Eed Cross. 
 
 Endicott was the captain of the company. While 
 the soldiers were expecting his orders to begin their 
 exercise, they saw him take the banner in one hand, 
 holding his drawn sword in the other. Probably he 
 addressed them in a speech, and explained how hor 
 rible a thing it was that men, who had fled from popisli 
 idolatry into the wilderness, should be compelled to 
 fight under its symbols here. Perhaps he concluded 
 his address somewhat in the following style. 
 
 " And now, fellow soldiers, you see this old banner 
 of England. Some of you, I doubt not, may think it 
 treason for a man to lay violent hands upon it. But 
 whether or no it be treason to man, I have good as 
 surance in my conscience that it is no treason to God. 
 Wherefore, I have resolved that we will rather be 
 God s soldiers than soldiers of the Pope of Home; 
 and in that mind I now cut the Papal Cross out of 
 this banner." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 23 
 
 And so he did. And thus, in a province belonging 
 to the crown of England, a captain was found bold 
 enough to deface the king s banner with his sword. 
 
 When Winthrop and the other wise men of Massa- 
 shusetts heard of it they were disquieted, being afraid 
 that Endicott s act would bring great trouble upon 
 himself and them. An account of the matter was 
 carried to King Charles ; but he was then so much 
 engrossed by dissensions with his people that he had 
 no leisure to punish the offender. In other times, it 
 might have cost Endicott his life, and Massachusetts 
 her charter. 
 
 " I should like to know, Grandfather," said Lau 
 rence, when the story was ended, "whether, when 
 Endicott cut the red cross out of the banner, he 
 meant to imply that Massachusetts was independent 
 of England ? " 
 
 " A sense of the independence of his adopted coun 
 try must have been in that bold man s heart," an 
 swered Grandfather ; " but I doubt whether he had 
 given the matter much consideration except in its re 
 ligious bearing. However, it was a very remarkable 
 affair, and a very strong expression of Puritan char 
 acter." 
 
 Grandfather proceeded to speak further of Roger 
 "Williams, and of other persons who sat in the great 
 chair, as will be seen in the following chapter. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "ROGER WILLIAMS," said Grandfather, "did noi 
 keep possession of the chair a great while. His opin 
 ions of civil and religious matters differed, in many 
 respects, from those of the rulers and clergymen of 
 Massachusetts. Now, the wise men of those days be 
 lieved that the country could not be safe unless all the 
 inhabitants thought and felt alike." 
 
 "Does anybody believe so in our days, Grand 
 father ? " asked Laurence. 
 
 " Possibly there are some who believe it," said 
 Grandfather ; " but they have not so much power to 
 act upon their belief as the magistrates and ministers 
 had in the days of Roger Williams. They had the 
 power to deprive this good man of his home, and to 
 send him out from the midst of them in search of a 
 new place of rest, lie was banished in 1634, and 
 went first to Plymouth colony ; but as the people there 
 held the same opinions as those of Massachusetts, he 
 was not suffered to remain among them. However, 
 the wilderness was wide enough ; so Roger Williams 
 took his staff and travelled into the forest and made 
 treaties with the Indians, and began a plantation which 
 he called Providence." 
 
 " I have been to Providence on the railroad," said 
 Charley. " It is but a two hours ride." 
 
 " Yes, Charley," replied Grandfather ; " but when 
 Roger Williams travelled thither, over hills and val- 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 25 
 
 leys, and through the tangled woods, and across 
 swamps and streams, it was a journey of several days. 
 Well, his little plantation is now grown to be a pop 
 ulous city ; and the inhabitants have a great venera 
 tion for Eoger Williams. Ilis name is familiar in the 
 mouths of all, because they see it on their bank-bills. 
 How it would have perplexed this good clergyman if 
 he had been told that he should give his name to the 
 ROGEK WILLIAMS BANK ! " 
 
 " When he was driven from Massachusetts," said 
 Laurence, " and began his journey into the woods, he 
 must have felt as if he were burying himself forever 
 from the sight and knowledge of men. Yet the whole 
 country has now heard of him, and will remember him 
 forever." 
 
 " Yes," answered Grandfather ; " it often happens 
 that the outcasts of one generation are those who are 
 reverenced as the wisest and best of men by the next. 
 The securest fame is that which comes after a man s 
 death. But let us return to our story. When Roger 
 Williams was banished, he appears to have given the 
 chair to Mrs. Anne Ilutchinson. At all events, it was 
 in her possession in 1637. She was a very sharp-wit 
 ted and well-instructed lady, and was so conscious of 
 her own wisdom and abilities that she thought it a 
 pity that the world should not have the benefit of 
 them. She therefore used to hold lectures in Boston 
 once or twice a week, at which most of the women at 
 tended. Mrs. Ilutchinson presided at these meetings, 
 sitting with great state and dignity in Grandfather s 
 chair." 
 
 " Grandfather, was it positively this very chair ? " 
 demanded Clara, lay ing her hand upon its carved elbow. 
 
26 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 "Why not, my dear Clara?" said Grandfather. 
 " Well, Mrs. Hutchinson s lectures soon caused a great 
 disturbance ; for the ministers of Boston did not 
 think it safe and proper that a woman should publicly 
 instruct the people in religious doctrines. Moreover, 
 she made the matter worse by declaring that the Rev 
 Mr. Cotton was the only sincerely pious and holy cler 
 gyman in New England. Now, the clergy of those 
 days had quite as much share in the government of the 
 country, though indirectly, as the magistrates them 
 selves ; so you may imagine what a host of powerful 
 enemies were raised up against Mrs. Hutchinson. A 
 synod was convened ; that is to say, an assemblage of 
 all the ministers in Massachusetts. They declared 
 that there were eighty-two erroneous opinions on re 
 ligious subjects diffused among the people, and that 
 Mrs. Ilutchinson s opinions were of the number." 
 
 " If they had eighty-two wrong opinions," observed 
 Charley, " I don t see how they could have any right 
 ones." 
 
 " Mrs. Hutchinson had many zealous friends and 
 converts," continued Grandfather. " She was favored 
 by young Henry Vane, who had come over from 
 England a year or two before, and had since been 
 chosen governor of the colony, at the age of twenty- 
 four. But Winthrop and most of the other leading 
 men, as well as the ministers, felt an abhorrence of her 
 doctrines. Thus two opposite parties were formed ; 
 and so fierce were the dissensions that it was feared the 
 consequence would be civil war and bloodshed. But 
 Winthrop and the ministers being the most power 
 ful, they disarmed and imprisoned Mrs. Ilutchinson s 
 adherents. She, like Roger Williams, was banished," 
 
GIIANDFATIIEWS CHAIR. 27 
 
 " Dear Grandfather, did they drive the poor wo 
 man into the woods ? " exclaimed little Alice, who con 
 trived to feel a human interest even in these discords 
 of polemic divinity. 
 
 u They did, my darling," replied Grandfather ; 
 " and the end of her life was so sad you must not hear 
 it. At her departure, it appears, from the best au 
 thorities, that she gave the great chair to her friend 
 Henry Yane. He was a young man of wonderful 
 talents and great learning, who had imbibed the reli 
 gious opinions of the Puritans, and left England with 
 the intention of spending his life in Massachusetts. 
 The people chose him governor ; but the controversy 
 about Mrs. Hutchinson, and other troubles, caused him 
 to leave the country in 1637. You may read the sub 
 sequent events of his life in the History of England. 
 
 " Yes, Grandfather," cried Laurence ; " and we may 
 read them better in Mr. Upham s biography of Yane. 
 And what a beautiful death he died, long afterwards ! 
 beautiful, though it was on a scaffold." 
 
 " Many of the most beautiful deaths have been 
 there," said Grandfather. " The enemies of a great 
 and good man can in no other way make him so glo 
 rious as by giving him the crown of martyrdom." 
 
 In order that the children might fully understand 
 the all-important history of the chair, Grandfather 
 now thought fit to speak of the progress that was made 
 in settling several colonies. The settlement of Ply 
 mouth, in 1620, has already been mentioned. In 1635 
 Mr. Hooker and Mr. Stone, two ministers, went on 
 foot from Massachusetts to Connecticut, through the 
 path jess woods, taking their whole congregation along 
 with them. They founded the town of Hartford. In 
 
28 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 1638 Mr. Davenport, a very celebrated minister, 
 went with other people, and began a plantation at New 
 Haven. In the same year, some persons who had 
 been persecuted in Massachusetts went to the Isle of 
 Rhodes, since called Rhode Island, and settled there. 
 About this time, also, many settlers had gone to 
 Maine, and were living without any regular govern 
 ment. There were likewise settlers near Piscataqua 
 River, in the region which is now called New Hamp 
 shire. 
 
 Thus, at various points along the coast of New 
 England, there were communities of Englishmen. 
 Though these communities were independent of one 
 another, yet they had a common dependence upon 
 England ; and, at so vast a distance from their native 
 home, the inhabitants must all have felt like brethren. 
 They were fitted to become one united people at a 
 future period. Perhaps their feelings of brother 
 hood were the stronger because different nations had 
 formed settlements to the north and to the south. 
 In Canada and Nova Scotia were colonies of French. 
 On the banks of the Hudson River was a colony of 
 Dutch, who had taken possession of that region many 
 years before, and called it New Netherlands. 
 
 Grandfather, for aught I know, might have gone 
 on to speak of Maryland and Virginia ; for the good 
 old gentleman really seemed to suppose that the 
 whole surface of the United States was not too broad 
 a foundation to place the four legs of his chair upon. 
 But, happening to glance at Charley, he perceived 
 that this naughty boy was growing impatient and 
 meditating another ride upon a stick. So here, for the 
 present, Grandfather suspended the history of his chair. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE children had now learned to look upon the 
 chair with an interest which was almost the same as 
 if it were a conscious being, and could remember the 
 many famous people whom it had held within its 
 arms. 
 
 Even Charley, lawless as he was, seemed to feel 
 that this venerable chair must not be clambered upon 
 nor overturned, although he had no scruple in taking 
 such liberties with every other chair in the house. 
 Clara treated it with still greater reverence, often 
 taking occasion to smooth its cushion, and to brush 
 the dust from the carved flowers and grotesque figures 
 of its oaken back and arms. Laurence would some 
 times sit a whole hour, especially at twilight, gazing 
 at the chair, and, by the spell of his imaginations, 
 summoning up its ancient occupants to appear in it 
 again. 
 
 Little Alice evidently employed herself in a similai 
 way ; for once when Grandfather had gone abroad, 
 the child was heard talking with the gentle Lady 
 Arbella, as if she were still sitting in the chair. So 
 sweet a child as little Alice may fitly talk with angels, 
 such as the Lady Arbella had long since become. 
 
 Grandfather was soon importuned for more stories 
 about the chair. He had no difficulty in relating 
 them ; for it really seemed as if every person noted 
 in our early history had, on some occasion or other. 
 
30 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 found repose within its comfortable arms. If Grand 
 father took pride in anything, it was in being the 
 possessor of such an honorable and historic elbow 
 chair. 
 
 " I know not precisely who next got possession of 
 the chair after Governor Vane went back to Eng 
 land," said Grandfather. " But there is reason to 
 believe that President Dunster sat in it, when he held 
 the first Commencement at Harvard College. You 
 have often heard, children, how careful our fore 
 fathers were to give their young people a good edu 
 cation. They had scarcely cut down trees enough to 
 make room for their own dwellings before they began 
 to think of establishing a college. Their principal 
 object was, to rear up pious and learned ministers ; 
 and hence old writers call Harvard College a school 
 of the prophets." 
 
 " Is the college a school of the prophets now ? " 
 asked Charley. 
 
 " It is a long while since I took my degree, Char 
 ley. You must ask some of the recent graduates," 
 answered Grandfather. " As I was telling you, 
 President Dunster sat in Grandfather s chair in 1642, 
 when he conferred the degree of bachelor of arts on 
 nine young men. They were the first in America 
 who had received that honor. And now, my dear 
 auditors, I must confess that there are contradictory 
 statements and some uncertainty about the adventures 
 of the chair for a period of almost ten years. Some 
 say that it was occupied by your own ancestor, 
 William Hawthorne, first Speaker of the House of 
 Representatives. I have nearly satisfied myself, 
 however, that, during most of this questionable 
 
GRANDFATHER S CIIAIR. 31 
 
 period, it was literally the Chair of State. It gives 
 me much pleasure to imagine that several successive 
 governors of Massachusetts sat in it at the council 
 board." 
 
 " But, Grandfather," interposed Charley, who was 
 A matter-of-fact little person, " what reason have you 
 to imagine so ? " 
 
 " Pray do imagine it, Grandfather," said Laurence. 
 
 " With Charley s permission, I will," replied Grand 
 father, smiling. " Let us consider it settled, there 
 fore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, and Endi- 
 cott, each of them, when chosen governor, took his 
 seat in our great chair on election day. In this chair, 
 likewise, did those excellent governors preside while 
 holding consultations with the chief counsellors of 
 the province, who were styled assistants. The gover 
 nor sat in this chair, too, whenever messages were 
 brought to him from the chamber of Representa 
 tives." 
 
 And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather 
 tediously about the nature and forms of government 
 that established themselves, almost spontaneously, in 
 Massachusetts and the other New England colonies. 
 Democracies were the natural growth of the New 
 World. As to Massachusetts, it was at first intended 
 that the colony should be governed by a council in 
 London. But in a little while the people had the 
 whole power in their own hands, and chose annually 
 the governor, the counsellors, and the representatives. 
 The people of old England had never enjoyed any 
 thing like the liberties and privileges which the set 
 tlers* of New England now possessed. And they did 
 not adopt these modes of government after long study, 
 
32 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 but in simplicity, as if there were no other way for 
 people to be ruled. 
 
 " But, Laurence," continued Grandfather, " when 
 you want instruction on these points, you must seek 
 it in Mr. Bancroft s History. I am merely telling 
 the history of a chair. To proceed. The period dur 
 ing which the governors sat in our chair was not very 
 full of striking incidents. The province was now es 
 tablished on a secure foundation ; but it did not in 
 crease so rapidly as at first, because the Puritans were 
 no longer driven from England by persecution. How 
 ever, there was still a quiet and natural growth. The 
 legislature incorporated towns, and made new pur 
 chases of lands from the Indians. A very memorable 
 event took place in 164:3. The colonies of Massachu 
 setts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed 
 a union, for the purpose of assisting each other in 
 difficulties, for mutual defence against their enemies. 
 They called themselves the United Colonies of New 
 England." 
 
 " Were they under a government like that of the 
 United States ? " inquired Laurence. 
 
 " No," replied Grandfather ; " the different col 
 onies did not compose one nation together ; it was 
 merely a confederacy among the governments. It 
 somewhat resembled the league of the Arnphictyons. 
 which you remember in Grecian history. But to re 
 turn to our chair. In 1644 it was highly honored ; 
 for Governor Endicott sat in it when he gave audi 
 ence to an ambassador from the French governor of 
 Acadie, or Xova Scotia. A treaty of peace between 
 Massachusetts and the French colony was then 
 signed." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 33 
 
 "Did England allow Massachusetts to make wai 
 and peace with foreign countries ? " asked Laurence. 
 
 " Massachusetts and the whole of New England 
 was then almost independent of the mother country," 
 said Grandfather. " There was now a civil war in 
 England ; and the king, as you may well suppose, had 
 his hands full at home, and could pay but little atten 
 tion to these remote colonies. When the Parliament 
 got the power into their hands, they likewise had 
 enough to do in keeping down the Cavaliers. Thus 
 NQW England, like a young and hardy lad whose 
 father and mother neglect it, was left to take care of 
 itself. In 1649 King Charles was beheaded. Oliver 
 Cromwell then became Protector of England ; and 
 as he was a Puritan himself, and had risen by the 
 valor of the English Puritans, he showed himself a 
 loving and indulgent father to the Puritan colonies 
 in America." 
 
 Grandfather might have continued to talk in this 
 dull manner nobody knows how long; but suspecting 
 that Charley would find the subject rather dry, ho 
 looked sidewise at that vivacious little fellow, and saw 
 him give an involuntary yawn. Whereupon Grand 
 father proceeded with the history of the chair, and 
 related a very entertaining incident, which will be 
 found in the next chapter. 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "ACCORDING to the most authentic records, my dear 
 children," said Grandfather, " the chair, about this 
 time, had the misfortune to break its leg. It was 
 probably on account of this accident that it ceased to 
 be the seat of the governors of Massachusetts ; for, as 
 suredly, it would have been ominous of evil to the 
 commonwealth if the Chair of State had tottered upon 
 three legs. Being therefore sold at auction, alas ! 
 what a vicissitude for a chair that had figured in such 
 high company our venerable friend was knocked 
 down to a certain Captain John Hull. The old gen 
 tleman, on carefully examining the named chair, dis 
 covered that its broken leg might be clamped with 
 iron and made as serviceable as ever." 
 
 " Here is the very leg that was broken ! " exclaimed 
 Charley, throwing himself down on the floor to look 
 at it. " And here are the iron clamps. How well it 
 was mended ! " 
 
 When they had all sufficiently examined the broken 
 leg, Grandfather told them a story about Captain 
 John Hull and 
 
 THE PINE-TKEE SHILLINGS. 
 
 The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mint-mas 
 ter of Massachusetts, and coined all the money that 
 was made there. This was a new line of business ; 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 35 
 
 for, in the earlier days of the colony, the current coin 
 age consisted of gold and silver money of England, 
 Portugal, and Spain. These coins being scarce, the 
 people were often forced to barter their commodities 
 instead of selling them. 
 
 For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he per 
 haps exchanged a bear-skin for it. If he wished for 
 a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a pile 
 of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used instead of 
 farthings. The Indians had a sort of money, called 
 wampun, which was made of clam-shells ; and this 
 strange sort of specie was likewise taken in payment 
 of debts by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never 
 been heard of. There was not money enough of any 
 kind, in many parts of the country, to pay the salaries 
 of the ministers ; so that they sometimes had to take 
 quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, in 
 stead of silver or gold. 
 
 As the people grew more numerous, and their trade 
 one with another increased, the want of current money 
 was still more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, 
 the general court passed a Jaw for establishing a coin 
 age of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain 
 John Hull was appointed to manufacture this money, 
 and was to have about one shilling out of every 
 twenty to pay him for the trouble of making them. 
 
 Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was 
 handed over to Captain John Hull. The battered 
 silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver buckles, 
 and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out 
 coats, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at 
 court, all such curious old articles were doubtless 
 thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far 
 
36 GllANDFATIIEH S CHAIR. 
 
 the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from 
 tlie mines of South America, which the English buc- 
 caniers (who were little better than pirates) had taken 
 from the Spaniards, and brought to Massachusetts. 
 
 All this old and new silver being melted down and 
 coined, the result was an immense amount of splendid 
 shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Each had the 
 date, 1652, on the one side, and the figure of a pine- 
 tree on the other. Uence they, were called pine-tree 
 shillings. And for every twenty shillings that he 
 coined, you will remember, Captain John Hull was 
 entitled to put one shilling into his own pocket. 
 
 The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint- 
 master would have the best of the bargain. They of 
 fered him a large sum of money if he would but give 
 up that twentieth shilling which he was 1 continually 
 dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull de 
 clared himself perfectly satish ed with the shilling. 
 And well he might be ; for so diligently did he labor 
 that, in a few years, his pockets, his money-bags, and 
 his strong box were overflowing with pine tree shil 
 lings. This was probably the case when he came into 
 possession of Grandfather s chair; and, as he had 
 worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper 
 that he should have a comfortable chair to rest him 
 self in. 
 
 When the mint-master had grown very rich, a young 
 man, Samuel Sewell by name, came a courting to his 
 only daughter. His daughter whose name I do not 
 know, but we will call her Betsey was a fine, hearty 
 damsel, by no means so slender as some young ladies 
 of our own days. On the contrary, having always fed 
 heartily on pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian puddings, 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 37 
 
 and other Puritan dainties, she was as round and 
 plump as a pudding herself. With this round, rosy 
 Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewell fall in love. As ho 
 was a young man of good character, industrious in his 
 business, and a member of the church, the mint-master 
 very readily gave his consent. 
 
 " Yes you may take her," said he in his rough way, 
 " and you ll find her a heavy burden enough ! " 
 
 On the wedding day, we may suppose that honest 
 John Hull dressed himself in a plum-colored coat, all 
 the buttons of which were made of pine-tree shillings. 
 The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences ; and the 
 knees of his small-clothes were buttoned with silver 
 threepences. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity 
 in Grandfather s chair ; and, being a portly old gentle 
 man, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On 
 the opposite side of the room, between her bridemaids 
 sat Miss Betsey. She was blushing with all her might, 
 and looked like a full blown paeony, or a great red 
 apple. 
 
 There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine 
 purple coat and gold lace waistcoat, with as much other 
 finery as the Puritan laws and customs would allow 
 him to pnt on. His hair was cropped close to his 
 head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any 
 man to wear it below the ears. But he was a very 
 personable young man ; and so thought the bridemaids 
 and Miss Betsey herself. 
 
 The mint-master also was pleased with his new son- 
 in-law ; especially as he had courted Miss Betsey out 
 of pure love, and had said nothing at all about her 
 portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over, 
 Captain Hull whispered a word to two of his men-ser- 
 
38 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 vants, who immediately went out, and soon returned, 
 lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a 
 pair as wholesale merchants use for weighing bulky 
 commodities ; and quite a bulky commodity was now 
 to be weighed in them. 
 
 " Daughter Betsey," said the mint-master, " get 
 into one side of these scales." 
 
 Miss Betsey or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call 
 her did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, without 
 any question of the why and wherefore. But what 
 her father could mean, unless to make her husband 
 pay for her by the pound (in which case she would 
 have been a dear bargain), she had not the least 
 idea. 
 
 " And now," said honest John Hull to the servants, 
 " bring that box hither." 
 
 The box r\> which the mint-master pointed was a 
 huge, square, iron bound, oaken chest ; it was big 
 enough, my children, for all four of you to play at 
 hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might 
 and main, but could not lift this enormous receptacle, 
 and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. 
 Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, un 
 locked the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Be 
 hold ! it was full to the brim of bright pine-tree shil 
 lings, fresh from the mint ; and Samuel Sewell began 
 to think that his father-in-law had got possession of 
 all the money in the Massachusetts treasury. But it 
 was only the mint-master s honest share of the coin- 
 
 Then the servants, at Captain Hull s command, 
 heaped double Landfills of shillings into one side of 
 the scales, while Betsey remained in the other. Jin- 
 
GRANDFATHER 8 CHAtti. BO 
 
 gle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful after hand 
 ful was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she 
 was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the 
 floor. 
 
 " There, son Sewell ! " cried the honest mint-mas 
 ter, resuming his seat in Grandfather s chair. " Take 
 these shillings for my daughter s portion. Use her 
 kindly, and thank Heaven for her. It is not every 
 wife that s worth her weight in silver ! " 
 
 The children laughed heartily at this legend, and 
 would hardly be convinced but that Grandfather had 
 made it out of his own head. He assured them faith 
 fully, however, that he had found it in the pages of a 
 grave historian, and had merely tried to tell it in a 
 somewhat funnier style. As for Samuel Sewell, he 
 afterwards became Chief Justice of Massachusetts. 
 
 "Well, Grandfather," remarked Clara, "if wed 
 ding portions now-a-days were paid as Miss Betsey s 
 was, young ladies would not pride themselves upon an 
 airy figure, as many of them do." 
 
CIIAPTEE VII. 
 
 WHEN his little audience next assembled round the 
 chair, Grandfather gave them a doleful history of the 
 Quaker persecution, which began in 1656, and raged 
 for about three years in Massachusetts. 
 
 He told them how, in the first place, twelve of the 
 converts of George Fox, the first Quaker in the world, 
 had come over from England. They seemed to be im 
 pelled by an earnest love for the souls of men, and 
 a pure desire to make known what they considered a 
 revelation from Heaven. But the rulers looked upon 
 them as plotting the downfall of all government and 
 religion. They were banished from the colony. In 
 a little while, however, not only the first twelve had 
 returned, but a multitude of other Quakers had come 
 to rebuke the rulers and to preach against the priests 
 and steeple-houses. 
 
 Grandfather described the hatred and scorn with 
 which these enthusiasts were received. They were 
 thrown into dungeons ; they were beaten with many 
 stripes, women as well as men ; they were driven 
 forth into the wilderness, and left to the tender mer 
 cies of wild beasts and Indians. The children were 
 amazed to hear that the more the Quakers were 
 scourged, and imprisoned, and banished, the more did 
 the sect increase, both by the influx of strangers and 
 by converts from among the Puritans. But Grand 
 father told them that God had put something into 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 41 
 
 the soul of man, which always turned the cruelties of 
 the persecutor to nought. 
 
 He went on to relate that, in 1659, two Quakers, 
 named William Robinson and Marmaduke Stephen- 
 son, were hanged at Boston. A woman had been 
 sentenced to die with them, but was reprieved on 
 condition of her leaving the colony. Her name was 
 Mary Dyer. In the year 1660 she returned to Bos 
 ton, although she knew death awaited her there; and, 
 if Grandfather had been correctly informed, an inci 
 dent had then taken place which connects her with 
 our story. This Mary Dyer had entered the mint- 
 master s dwelling, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, and 
 seated herself in our great chair with a sort of dignity 
 and state. Then she proceeded to deliver what she 
 called a message from Heaven, but in the midst of it 
 they dragged her to prison. 
 
 " And was she executed ? " asked Laurence. 
 
 " She was," said Grandfather. 
 
 " Grandfather," cried Charley, clinching his fist, 
 " I would have fought for that poor Quaker woman ! " 
 
 " Ah ! but if a sword had been drawn for her," 
 said Laurence, "it would have taken away all the 
 beauty of her death." 
 
 It seemed as if hardly any of the preceding stories 
 had thrown such an interest around Grandfather s 
 chair as did the fact that the poor, persecuted, wander 
 ing Quaker woman had rested in it for a moment. 
 The children were so much excited that Grandfather 
 found it necessary to bring his account of the perse 
 cution to a close. 
 
 " In 1660, the same year in which Mary Dyer was 
 executed," said he, " Charles the Second was restored 
 
42 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 to the throne of his fathers. This king had marry 
 vices ; but he would not permit blood to be shed, 
 under pretence of religion, in any part of his domin 
 ions. The Quakers in England told him what had 
 been done to their brethren in Massachusetts ; and he 
 sent orders to Governor Endicott to forbear all such 
 proceedings in future. And so ended the Quaker 
 persecution, one of the most mournful passages in 
 the history of our forefathers." 
 
 Grandfather then told his auditors, that, shortly 
 after the above incident, the great chair had been 
 given by the mint-master to the Rev. Mr. John Eliot. 
 He was the first minister of Roxbury. But besides 
 attending to the pastoral duties there, he learned the 
 language of the red men, and often went into the 
 woods to preach to them. So earnestly did he labor 
 for their conversion that he has always been called 
 the apostle to the Indians. The mention of this holy 
 man suggested to Grandfather the propriety of giving 
 a brief sketch of the history of the Indians, so far as 
 they were connected with the English colonists. 
 
 A short period before the arrival of the first Pil 
 grims at Plymouth there had been a very grievous 
 plague among the red men ; and the sages and minis 
 ters of that day were inclined to the opinion that 
 Providence had sent this mortality in order to make 
 room for the settlement of the English. But I know 
 not why we should suppose that an Indian s life is 
 less precious, in the eye of Heaven, than that of a 
 white man. Be that as it may, death had certainly 
 been very busy with the savage tribes. 
 
 In many places the English found the wigwams de 
 serted and the corn-fields growing to waste, w r ith none 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 43 
 
 to harvest the grain. There were heaps of earth also, 
 which, being dug open, proved to be Indian graves, 
 containing bows and flint-headed spears and arrows ; 
 for the Indians buried the dead warrior s weapons 
 along with him. In some spots there were skulls and 
 other human bones lying unburied. In 1633, and the 
 year afterwards, the smallpox broke out among the 
 Massachusetts Indians, multitudes of whom died by 
 this terrible disease of the old world. These mis 
 fortunes made them far less powerful than they had 
 formerly been. 
 
 For nearly half a century after the arrival of the 
 English the red men showed themselves generally in 
 clined to peace and amity. They often made submis 
 sion when they might have made successful war. 
 The Plymouth settlers, led by the famous Captain 
 Miles Standish, slew some of them, in 1623, without 
 any very evident necessity for so doing. In 1636, 
 and the following year, there was the most dreadful 
 war that had yet occurred between the Indians and 
 the English. The Connecticut settlers, assisted by a 
 celebrated Indian chief named Uncas, bore the brunt 
 of this war, with but little aid from Massachusetts. 
 Many hundreds of the hostile Indians were slain or 
 burnt in their wigwams. Sassacus, their sachem, 
 fled to another tribe, after his own people were de 
 feated ; but he was murdered by them, and his head 
 was sent to his English enemies. 
 
 From that period down to the time of King Philip s 
 war, which will be mentioned hereafter, there was 
 not much trouble with the Indians. But the colonists 
 were always on their guard, and kept their weapons 
 ready for the conflict. 
 
44 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 "I have sometimes doubted," said Grandfather, 
 when he had told these things to the children, " I 
 have sometimes doubted whether there was more 
 tli an a single man among our forefathers, who real 
 ized that an Indian possesses a mind, and a heart, and 
 an immortal soul. That single man was John Eliot. 
 All the rest of the early settlers seemed to think that 
 the Indians were an inferior race of beings, whom the 
 Creator had merely allowed to keep possession of this 
 beautiful country till the white men should be in 
 want of it." 
 
 " Did the pious men of those days never try to 
 make Christians of them ? " asked Laurence. 
 
 " Sometimes, it is true," answered Grandfather, 
 " the magistrates and ministers would talk about civil 
 izing and converting the red people. But, at the 
 bottom of their hearts, they would have had almost 
 as much expectation of civilizing the wild bear of the 
 woods and making him fit for paradise. They felt no 
 faith in the success of any such attempts, because they 
 had no love for the poor Indians. Now, Eliot was 
 full of love for them ; and therefore so full of faith 
 and hope that he spent the labor of a lifetime in their 
 behalf." 
 
 " I would have conquered them first, and then con 
 verted them," said Charlie. 
 
 "Ah, Charlie, there spoke the very spirit of our 
 forefathers ! " replied Grandfather. " But Mr. Eliot 
 had a better spirit. lie looked upon them as his 
 brethren. He persuaded as many of them as he could 
 to leave off their idle and wandering habits, and to 
 build houses and cultivate the earth, as the English 
 did. He established schools among them and taught 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 45 
 
 many of the Indians how to read. He taught them, 
 likewise, how to pray. Hence they were called pray 
 ing Indians. Finally, having spent the best years of 
 his life for their good, Mr. Eliot resolved to spend the 
 remainder in doing them a yet greater benefit." 
 
 " I know what that was ! " cried Laurence. 
 
 " lie sat down in his stndy,".continued Grandfather, 
 " and began a translation of the Bible into the Indian 
 tongue. It was while he was engaged in this pions 
 work that the mint-master gave him our great chair. 
 His toil needed it and deserved it." 
 
 " O Grandfather, tell us all about that Indian 
 Bible ! " exclaimed Laurence. " I have seen it in the 
 library of the Athenaeum ; and the tears came into 
 my eyes to think that there were no Indians left to 
 read it." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 As Grandfather was a great admirer of the Apostle 
 Eliot, he was glad to comply with the earnest request 
 which Laurence had made at the close of the last 
 chapter. So he proceeded to describe how good Mr. 
 Eliot labored, while he w r as at work upon 
 
 THE INDIAN BIBLE. 
 
 My dear children, what a task w r ould you think it, 
 even with a long lifetime before you, were you bidden 
 to copy every chapter, and verse, and word in yonder 
 family Bible ! Would not this be a heavy toil ? But 
 if the task were, not to write off the English Bible, but 
 to learn a language utterly unlike all other tongues, 
 a language which hitherto had never been learned, 
 except by the Indians themselves, from their mothers 
 lips, a language never written, and the strange 
 words of which seemed inexpressible by letters ; it 
 the task were, first to learn this new variety of speech, 
 and then to translate the Bible into it, and to do it so 
 carefully that not one idea throughout the holy book 
 should be changed, what would induce you to un 
 dertake this toil ? Yet this was what the Apostle Eliot 
 did. 
 
 It was a mighty work for a man, now growing old, 
 to take upon himself. And what earthly reward could 
 he expect from it ? None ; no reward on earth. But 
 he believed that the red men were the descendants of 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 47 
 
 those lost tribes of Israel of whom history has been 
 able to tell us nothing for thousands of years. He 
 hoped that God had sent the English across the ocean, 
 Gentiles as they were, to enlighten this benighted por 
 tion of his once chosen race. And when he should be 
 summoned hence, he trusted to meet blessed spirits 
 in another world, whose bliss would have been earned 
 by his patient toil in translating the Word of God. 
 This hope and trust were far dearer to him than any 
 thing that earth could offer. 
 
 Sometimes, while thus at work, he was visited by 
 learned men, who desired to know what literary un 
 dertaking Mr. Eliot had in hand. They, like him 
 self, had been bred in the studious cloisters of a uni 
 versity, and were supposed to possess all the erudition 
 which mankind has hoarded up from age to age. 
 Greek and Latin were as familiar to them as the bab 
 ble of their childhood. Hebrew was like their mother 
 tongue. They had grown gray in study ; their eyes 
 were bleared with poring over print and manuscript 
 by the light of the midnight lamp. 
 
 And yet, how much had they left unlearned ! Mr. 
 Eliot would put into their hands some of the pages 
 which he had been writing; and behold! the gray 
 headed men stammered over the long, strange words, 
 like a little child in his first attemps to read. Then 
 would the apostle call to him an Indian boy, one of 
 his scholars, and show him the manuscript which had 
 so puzzled the learned Englishmen. 
 
 " Read this, my child," said he ; " these are some 
 brethren of mine, who would fain hear the sound of 
 thy native tongue." 
 
 Then would the Indian boy cast his eyes over the 
 
4:8 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 mysterious page, and read it so skilfully that it sounded 
 like wild music. It seemed as if the forest leaves were 
 singing in the ears of his auditors, and as if the roar 
 of distant streams were poured through the young 
 Indian s voice. Such were the sounds amid which the 
 language of the red men had been formed ; and they 
 were still heard to echo in it. 
 
 The lesson being over, Mr. Eliot would give the In 
 dian boy an apple or a cake, and bid him leap forth 
 into the open air which his free nature loved. The 
 apostle was kind to children, and even shared in their 
 sports sometimes. And when his visitors had bidden 
 him farewell, the good man turned patiently to his 
 toil again. 
 
 ~No other Englishman had ever understood the In 
 dian character so well, nor possessed so great an influ 
 ence over the New England tribes, as the apostle did. 
 His advice and assistance must often have been valu 
 able to his countrymen, in their transactions with the 
 Indians. Occasionally, perhaps, the governor and some 
 of the counsellors came to visit Mr. Eliot. Perchance 
 they were seeking some method to circumvent the 
 forest people. They inquired, it may be, how they 
 could obtain possession of such and such a tract of 
 their rich land. Or they talked of making the In 
 dians their servants, as if God had destined them for 
 perpetual bondage to the more powerful white man. 
 
 Perhaps, too, some warlike captain, dressed in his 
 buff-coat, with a corselet beneath it, accompanied the 
 governor and counsellors. Laying his hand upon his 
 sword hilt, he would declare, that the only method of 
 dealing with the red men was to meet them with the 
 sword drawn and the musket presented 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. . 49 
 
 But the apostle resisted both the craft of the politi 
 cian and the fierceness of the warrior. 
 
 " Treat these sons of the forest as men and breth 
 ren," he would say ; " and let us endeavor to make 
 them Christians. Their forefathers were of that 
 chosen race whom God delivered from Egyptian bond 
 age. Perchance he has destined us to deliver the 
 children from the more cruel bondage of ignorance 
 and idolatry. Chiefly for this end, it may be, we 
 were directed across the ocean." 
 
 When these other visitors were gone, Mr. Eliot 
 bent himself again over the half written page. He 
 dared hardly relax a moment from his toil. He felt 
 that, in the book which he was translating, there was 
 a deep human as well as heavenly wisdom, which 
 would of itself suffice to civilize and refine the savage 
 tribes. Let the Bible be diffused among them, and 
 all earthly good would follow. But how slight a con 
 sideration was this, when he reflected that the eternal 
 welfare of a whole race of men depended upon his ac 
 complishment of the task which he had set himself ! 
 What if his hand should be palsied ? What if his 
 mind should lose its vigor ? What if death should 
 come upon him ere the work were done? Then 
 must the red man wander in the dark wilderness of 
 heathenism forever. 
 
 Impelled by such thoughts as these, he sat writing 
 in the great chair when the pleasant summer breeze 
 came in through his open casement ; and also when 
 the fire of forest logs sent up its blaze and smoke, 
 through the broad stoi>e chimney, into the wintry air. 
 Before the earliest bird sang in the morning the apos 
 tle s lamp was kindled ; and, at midnight, his weary 
 4 
 
50 GRANDFATHER S C II AIR. 
 
 head was not yet \ipon its pillow. And at length, 
 learning back in the great chair, he could say to him 
 self, with a holy triumph, " The work is finished ! " 
 
 It was finished. Here was a. Bible for the Indians. 
 Those long lost descendants of the ten tribes of Israel 
 would now learn the history of their forefathers. 
 That grace which the ancient Israelites had forfeited 
 was offered anew to their children. 
 
 There is no impiety in believing that, when his long 
 life was over, the apostle of the Indians was welcomed 
 to the celestial abodes by the prophets of ancient days 
 arid by those earliest apostles and evangelists who had 
 drawn their inspiration from the immediate presence 
 of the Saviour. They first had preached truth and 
 salvation to the world. And Eliot, separated from 
 them by many centuries, yet full of the same spirit, 
 had borne the like message to the new world of the 
 West. Since the first days of Christianity, there has 
 been no man more worthy to be numbered in the 
 brotherhood of the apostles than Eliot, 
 
 " My heart is not satisfied to think," observed Lan- 
 rence, " that Mr. Eliot s labors have done no good ex 
 cept to a few Indians of his own time. Doubtless he 
 would not have regretted his toil, if it were the means 
 of saving but a single soul. But it is a grievous thing 
 to me that he should have toiled so hard to translate 
 the Bible, and now the language and the people are 
 gone ! The Indian Bible itself is almost the only relic 
 of both." 
 
 "Laurence," said his Grandfather, "if ever you 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 51 
 
 should doubt that man is capable of disinterested zeal 
 for his brother s good, then remember how the apostle 
 Eliot toiled. And if you should feel your own self- 
 interest pressing upon your heart too closely, then 
 think of Eliot s Indian Bible. It is good for the 
 world that such a man lias lived and left this emblem 
 of his life." 
 
 The tears gushed into the eyes of Laurence, and he 
 acknowledged that Eliot had not toiled in vain. Lit 
 tle Alice put up her arms to Grandfather, and drew 
 down his white head beside her own golden locks. 
 
 "Grandfather," whispered she, "I want to kiss 
 good Mr. Eliot ! " 
 
 And, doubtless, good Mr. Eliot would gladly re 
 ceive the kiss of so sweet a child as little Alice, and 
 would think it a portion of his reward in heaven. 
 
 Grandfather now observed that Dr. Francis had 
 written a very beautiful Life of Eliot which he ad 
 vised Laurence to peruse. He then spoke of Kins: 
 Philip s War, which began in 1675, and terminated 
 with the death of King Philip, in the following year. 
 Philip was a proud, fierce Indian, whom Mr. Eliot 
 had vainly endeavored to convert to the Christian 
 faith. 
 
 " It must have been a great anguish to the apostle, 
 continued Grandfather, " to hear of mutual slaughter 
 and outrage between his own countrymen and those 
 for whom he felt the affection of a father. A few 
 of the praying Indians joined the followers of King 
 Philip. A greater number fought on the side of the 
 English. In the course of the war the little commu 
 nity of red people whom Mr. Eliot had begun to civ 
 ilize was scattered, and probably never was restored 
 
52 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 to a flourishing condition. But his zeal did not grow 
 cold ; and only about five years before his death he 
 took great pains in preparing a new edition of the In 
 dian Bible." 
 
 "I do wish, Grandfather," cried Charley, "you 
 would tell us all about the battles in King Philip s 
 war." 
 
 "O, no!" exclaimed Clara. "Who wants to hear 
 about tomahawks and scalping-knives ! " 
 
 "No, Charley," replied Grandfather, " I have no 
 time to spare in talking about battles. You must be 
 content with knowing that it was the bloodiest war 
 that the Indians had ever waged against the white 
 men ; and that, at its close, the English set King 
 Philip s head upon a pole." 
 
 " Who was the captain of the English ? " asked 
 Charley. 
 
 "Their most noted captain was Benjamin Church, 
 a very famous warrior," said Grandfather. " But 
 I assure you, Charley, that neither Captain Church, 
 nor any of the officers and soldiers who fought in 
 King Philip s War, did anything a thousandth part 
 so glorious as Mr. Eliot did when he translated the 
 Bible for the Indians." 
 
 "Let Laurence be the apostle," said Charley t<* 
 himself, " and I will be the captain." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE children were now accustomed to assemble, 
 round Grandfather s chair at all their unoccupied mo 
 ments ; and often it was a striking picture to behold 
 the white headed old sire, with this flowery wreath of 
 young people around him. When he talked to them, "") 
 it was the past speaking to the present, or rather / 
 to the future, for the children were of a generation 
 which had not become actual. Their part in life, > 
 thus far, was only to be happy and to draw knowl 
 edge from a thousand sources. As yet, it was not 
 their time to do. 
 
 Sometimes, as Grandfather gazed at their fair, un 
 worldly countenances, a mist of tears bedimmed his 
 spectacles. He almost regretted that it was necessary 
 for them to know anything of the past or to provide 
 aught for the future. He could have wished that 
 they might be always the happy, youthful creatures 
 who had hitherto sported around his chair, without 
 inquiring whether it had a history. It grieved him 
 to think that his little Alice, who was a flower-bud 
 fresh from paradise, must open her leaves to the 
 rough breezes of the world, or ever open them in any 
 clime. So sweet a child she was, that it seemed fit 
 her infancy should be immortal ! 
 
 But such repinings were merely flitting shadows 
 across the old man s heart. He had faith enough to 
 believe, and wisdom enough to know, that the bloom 
 
54 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 of the flower would be even holier and happier than 
 its bud. Even within himself though Grandfather 
 ; was now at that period of life when the veil of mor 
 tality is apt to hang heavily over the soul, still, in 
 his inmost being he was conscious of something that 
 he would not have exchanged for the best happiness 
 of childhood. It was a bliss to which every sort of 
 earthly experience all that he had enjoyed, or suf 
 fered, or seen, or heard, or acted, with the breedings 
 of his soul upon the whole had contributed some 
 what. In the same manner must a bliss, of which 
 now they could have no conception, grow up within 
 these children, and form a part of their sustenance 
 for immortality. 
 
 So Grandfather, with renewed cheerfulness, contin 
 ued his history of the chair, trusting that aprofotmder 
 wisdom than his own would extract, from these flow 
 ers and weeds of Time, a fragrance that might last 
 beyond all time. 
 
 At this period of the story Grandfather threw a 
 glance backward as far as the year 1660. He spoke 
 of the ill-concealed reluctance with which the Puritans 
 in America had acknowledged the sway of Charles the 
 Second on his restoration to his father s throne. When 
 death had stricken Oliver Cromwell, that mighty pro 
 tector had no sincerer mourners than in New England. 
 The new king had been more than a year upon the 
 throne before his accession was proclaimed in Boston ; 
 although the neglect to perform the ceremony might 
 have subjected the rulers to the charge of treason. 
 
 During the reign of Charles the Second, however, 
 the American colonies had but little reason to com 
 plain of harsh or tyrannical treatment. But when 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 55 
 
 Charles died, in 1685, and was succeeded by his 
 brother James, the patriarchs of Xew England began 
 to tremble. King James was a bigoted Roman Cath 
 olic, and was known to be of an arbitrary temper. It 
 was feared by all Protestants, and chiefly by the 
 Puritans, that he would assume despotic power and 
 attempt to establish Popery throughout his dominions. 
 Our forefathers felt that they had no security either 
 for their religion or their liberties. 
 
 The result proved that they had reason for their ap 
 prehensions. King James caused the charters of all 
 the American colonies to be taken away. The old 
 charter of Massachusetts, which the people regarded 
 as a holy thing and as the foundation of all their lib 
 erties, was declared void. The colonists were now no 
 onger freemen ; they were entirely dependent on the 
 dng s pleasure. At first, in 1685, King James ap- 
 )ointed Joseph Dudley, a native of Massachusetts, to 
 be president of New England. But soon afterwards 
 Sir Edmund Andros, an officer of the English army, 
 arrived, with a commission to be governor-general of 
 New England and New York. 
 
 The king had given such powers to Sir Edmund 
 Andros that there was now no liberty, nor scarcely 
 any law, in the colonies over which he ruled. The 
 inhabitants were not allowed to choose representa 
 tives, and consequently had no voice whatever in the 
 government, nor control over the measures that were 
 id onto-.!. T no counsellors with whom the governor 
 Consulted on matters of state were appointed by him 
 self. Tiiis sort of government was no better that an 
 absolute despotism. 
 
 " The people suffered much wrong while Sir Ed 
 
56 GRAtf DP ATHENS CHAlH. 
 
 mnnd Andros ruled over them," continued Grand 
 father ; " and they were apprehensive of much more. 
 He had brought some soldiers with him from England, 
 who took possession of the old fortress on Castle Isl 
 and and of the fortification on Fort Hill. Sometimes 
 it was rumored that a general massacre of the inhab 
 itants was to be perpetrated by these soldiers. There 
 were reports, too, that all the ministers were to be 
 slain or imprisoned." 
 
 " For what ? " inquired Charley. 
 
 "Because they were the leaders of the people, 
 Charley," said Grandfather. " A minister was a 
 more formidable man than a general in those days. 
 Well ; while these things were going on in America, 
 King James had so misgoverned the people of Eng 
 land that they sent over to Holland for the Prince of 
 Orange. He had married the king s daughter, and 
 was therefore considered to have a claim to the 
 crown. On his arrival in England, the Prince of 
 Orange was proclaimed king, by the name of William 
 the Third. Poor old King James made his escape to 
 France." 
 
 Grandfather told how, at the first intelligence of 
 the landing of the Prince of Orange in England, the 
 people of Massachusetts rose in their strength and 
 overthrew the government of Sir Edmund Andros. 
 He, with Joseph Dudley, Edmund Randolph, and his 
 other principal adherents, was thrown into prison. 
 Old Simon Bradstreet, who had been governor when 
 King James took away the charter, was called by the 
 people to govern them again. 
 
 "Governor Bradstreet was a venerable old man, 
 nearly ninety years of age," said Grandfather. " Ho 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 57 
 
 came over with the first settlers, and had been the in 
 timate companion of all those excellent and famous 
 men who laid the foundation of our country. They 
 were all gone before him to the grave ; and Brad street 
 was the last of the Puritans." 
 
 Grandfather paused a moment and smiled, as if he 
 had something very interesting to tell his auditors. 
 He then proceeded : 
 
 "And now, Laurence, now, Clara, now, Char 
 ley, now, my dear little Alice, what chair do you 
 think had been placed in the council chamber, for 
 old Governor Bradstreet to take his seat in ? "Would 
 you believe that it was this very chair in which 
 grandfather now sits, and of which he is telling you 
 the history ? " 
 
 " I am glad to hear it, with all my heart ! " cried 
 Charley, after a shout of delight. " I thought Grand 
 father had quite forgotten the chair." 
 
 " It was a solemn and affecting sight," said Grand 
 father, " when this venerable patriarch, with his 
 white beard flowing down upon his breast, took his 
 seat in his Chair of State. Within his remembrance, 
 and even since his mature age, the site where now 
 stood the populous town had been a wild and forest- 
 covered peninsula. The province, now so fertile and 
 spotted with thriving villages, had been a desert wil 
 derness. He was surrounded by a shouting multi 
 tude, most of whom had been born in the country 
 which he had helped to found. They were of one 
 generation, and he of another. As the old man 
 looked upon them, and beheld new faces everywhere, 
 he must have felt that it was now time for him to go 
 whither his brethren had gone before him." 
 
58 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 " "Were the former governors all dead and gone ? " 
 asked Laurence. 
 
 " All of them," replied Grandfather. " Winthrop 
 had been dead forty years. Endicott died, a very old 
 man, in 1665. Sir Henry Vane was beheaded, in 
 London, at the beginning of the reign of Charles the 
 Second. And Haynes, Dudley, Bellingham, and 
 Leverett, who had all been governors of Massachu 
 setts, were now likewise in their graves. Old Simon 
 Bradstreet was the sole representative of that de 
 parted brotherhood. There was no other public man 
 remaining to connect the ancient system of govern 
 ment and manners with the new system which was 
 about to take its place. The era of the Puritans was 
 now completed." 
 
 " I am sorry for it," observed Laurence ; " for, 
 though they were so stern, yet it seems to me that 
 there was something warm and real about them. I 
 think, Grandfather, that each of these old governors 
 should have his statue set up in our State House, 
 sculptured out of the hardest of Kew England gran 
 ite." 
 
 "It would not be amiss, Laurence," said Grand 
 father ; " but perhaps clay, or some other perishable 
 material, might suffice for some of their successors. 
 But let us go back to our chair. It was occupied by 
 Governor Bradstreet from April, 1689, until May, 
 1692. Sir William Phips then arrived in Boston 
 with a new charter from King William and a com 
 mission to be governor," 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 " AND what became of the chair ? " inquired Clara. 
 
 " The outward aspect of our chair," replied Grand 
 father, " was now somewhat the worse for its long 
 and arduous services. It was considered hardly mag 
 nificent enough to be allowed to keep its place in the 
 council chamber of Massachusetts. In fact, it was 
 banished as an article of useless lumber. But Sir 
 William Phips happened to see it, and, being much 
 pleased with its construction, resolved to take the 
 good old chair into his private mansion. Accord 
 ingly, with his own gubernatorial hands, he re 
 paired one of its arms, which had been slightly dam 
 aged." 
 
 " Why, Grandfather, here is the very arm ! " in 
 terrupted Charley, in great wonderment. " And did 
 Sir William Phips put in these screws with his own 
 hands ? I am sure he did it beautifully ! But how 
 came a governor to know how to mend a chair ? " 
 
 " I will tell you a story about the early life of Sir- 
 William Phips," said Grandfather. " You will then 
 perceive that he well knew how to use his hands." 
 
 So Grandfather related the wonderful and true 
 tale of 
 
 THE SUNKEN TREASURE. 
 
 Picture to yourselves, my dear children, a hand 
 some, old-fashioned room, with a large, open cup 
 board at one end, in which is displayed a magnificent 
 
60 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 gold cup, with some other splendid articles of gold 
 and silver plate. In another part of the room, op 
 posite to a tall looking glass, stands our beloved chair, 
 newly polished, and adorned with a gorgeous cushion 
 of crimson velvet, tufted with gold. 
 
 In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame, 
 whose face has been roughened by northern tempests 
 and blackened by the burning sun of the West Indies. 
 He wears an immense periwig, flowing down over his 
 shoulders. His coat has a wide embroidery of golden 
 foliage ; and his waistcoat, likewise, is all flowered 
 over and bedizened with gold. His red, rough hands, 
 which have done many a good day s work with the 
 hammer and adze, are half covered by the delicate 
 lace ruffles at his wrists. On a table lies his silver- 
 hilted sword ; and in the corner of the room stands 
 his gold-headed cane, made of a beautifully polished 
 West India wood. 
 
 Somewhat such an aspect as this did Sir William 
 Phips present when he sat in Grandfather s chair 
 after the king had appointed him governor of Massa 
 chusetts. Truly, there was need that the old chair 
 should be varnished and decorated with a crimson 
 cushon, in order to make it suitable for such a mag 
 nificent looking personage. 
 
 But Sir William Phips had not always worn a 
 gold embroidered coat, nor always sat so much at his 
 ease as he did in Grandfather s chair, lie was a poor 
 man s son, and was born in the province of Maine, 
 where he used to tend sheep upon the hills, in his boy 
 hood and youth. Until he had grown to be a man, 
 he did not even know how to read and write. Tired 
 of tending sheep, he next apprenticed himself to a 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 61 
 
 ship-carpenter, and spent about four years in hewing 
 the crooked limbs of oak trees into knees for vessels. 
 
 In 1673, when he was twenty-two years old, he 
 came to Boston, and soon afterwards was married to 
 a widow lady, who had property enough to set him 
 up in business. It was not long, however, before he 
 lost all the money that he had acquired by his mar 
 riage, and became a poor man again. Still, he was 
 not discouraged. lie often told his wife that, some 
 time or other, he should be very rich, and would 
 build a " fair brick house " in the Green Lane of 
 Boston. 
 
 Do not suppose, children, that he had been to a 
 fortune-teller to inquire his destiny. It was his own 
 energy and spirit of enterprise, and his resolution to 
 lead an industrious life, that made him look forward 
 with so much confidence to better days. 
 
 Several years passed away ; and William Phips had 
 not yet gained the riches which he promised to him 
 self. During this time he had begun to follow the 
 sea for a living. In the year 1684: he happened to 
 hear of a Spanish ship which had been cast away near 
 the Bahama Islands, and which was supposed to con 
 tain a great deal of gold and silver. Phips went to 
 the place in a small vessel, hoping that he should be 
 able to recover some of the treasure from the wreck. 
 He did not succeed, however, in fishing up gold and 
 silver enough to pay the expenses of his voyage. 
 
 But, before he returned, he was told of another 
 Spanish ship, or galleon, which had been cast away 
 near Porto de la Plata. She had now lain as much as 
 fifty years beneath the waves. This old ship had been 
 laden with immense wealth ; and, hitherto, nobody 
 
62 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 had thought of the possibility of recovering any part 
 of it from the deep sea which was rolling and tossing 
 it about. But though it was now an old story, and 
 the most aged people had almost forgotten that such 
 a vessel had been wrecked, William Phips resolved 
 that the sunken treasure should again be brought to 
 light. 
 
 He went to London and obtained admittance to 
 King James, who had not yet been driven from his 
 throne. He told the king of the vast wealth that was 
 lying at the bottom of the sea. King James listened 
 with attention, and thought this a fine opportunity to 
 fill his treasury with Spanish gold. He appoin f ed 
 William Phips to be captain of a vessel, called the 
 Rose Algier, carrying eighteen guns and ninety-five 
 men. So now he was Captain Phips of the English 
 navy. 
 
 Captain Phips sailed from England in the Rose 
 Algier, and cruised for nearly two years in the West 
 Indies, endeavouring to find the wreck of the Spanish 
 ship. But the sea is so wide and deep that it is no 
 easy matter to discover the exact spot where a sunken 
 vessel lies. The prospect of success seemed very 
 small ; and most people would have thought that 
 Captain Phips was as far from having money enough 
 to build a " fair brick house " as he was while he 
 tended sheep. 
 
 The seamen of the Rose Algier became discouraged, 
 and gave up all hope of making their fortunes by 
 discovering the Spanish wreck. They wanted to 
 compel Captain Phips to turn pirate. There was a 
 much better prospect, they thought, of growing rich 
 by plundering vessels which still sailed in the sea 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 63 
 
 than by seeking for a ship that had lain beneath the 
 waves full half a century. They broke out in open 
 mutiny, but were finally mastered by Phips, and 
 compelled to obey his orders. It would have been 
 dangerous, however, to continue much longer at 
 sea with such a crew of mutinous sailors ; and, be 
 sides, the Rose Algier was leaky and unseaworthy. 
 So Captain Phips judged it best to return to 
 England. 
 
 Before leaving the West Indies, he met with a Span 
 iard, an old man, who remembered the wreck of the 
 Spanish ship, and gave him directions how to find the 
 very spot. It was on a reef of rocks, a few leagues 
 from Porto de la Plata. 
 
 On his arrival in England, therefore, Captain Phips 
 solicited the king to let him have another vessel and 
 send him back again to the West Indies. But King 
 James, who had probably expected that the Rose Al 
 gier would return laden with gold, refused to have 
 anything more to do with the affair. Phips might 
 never have been able to renew the search if the Duke 
 of Albemarle and some other noblemen had not lent 
 their assistance. They fitted out a ship, and gave the 
 command to Captain Phips. He sailed from Eng 
 land, and arrived safely at Porto de la Plata, where 
 he took an adze and assisted his men to build a large 
 boat. 
 
 The boat was intended for the purpose of going 
 closer to the reef of rocks than a large vessel could 
 safely venture. When it was finished, the captain 
 sent several men in it to examine the spot where the 
 Spanish ship was said to have been wrecked. They 
 were accompanied by some Indians, who were skilful 
 
64: GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 divers, and could go down a great way into the depths 
 of the sea. 
 
 The boat s crew proceeded to the reef of rocks, and 
 rowed round and round it a great many times. They 
 gazed down into the water, which was so transparent 
 that it seemed as if they could have seen the gold and 
 silver at the bottom, had there been any of those pre 
 cious metals there. Nothing, however, could they 
 see ; nothing more valuable than a curious sea shrub, 
 which was growing beneath the water, in a crevice of 
 the reef of rocks. It flaunted to and f ro with the 
 swell and reflux of the waves, and looked as bright 
 and beautiful as if its leaves were gold. 
 
 " We won t go back empty-handed," cried an Eng 
 lish sailor ; and then he spoke to one of the Indian 
 divers. " Dive down and bring me that pretty sea 
 shrub there. That s the only treasure we shall find ! " 
 
 Down plunged the diver, and soon rose dripping 
 from the water, holding the sea shrub in his hand. 
 But he had learnt some news at the bottom of the 
 sea. 
 
 "There are some ship s guns," said he, the moment 
 he had drawn breath, " some great cannon, among 
 thp rocks, near where the shrub was growing." 
 
 Eo sooner had he spoken than the English sailors 
 knew that they had found the very spot where the 
 Spanish galleon had been wrecked, so many years 
 before. The other Indian divers immediately plunged 
 over the boat s side and swam headlong down, grop 
 ing among the rocks and sunken cannon. In a few 
 moments one of them rose above the water with a 
 heavy lump of silver in his arms. That single lump 
 was worth more than a thousand dollars. The sail- 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 65 
 
 ors took it into the boat, and then rowed back as 
 speedily as they could, being in haste to inform Cap 
 tain Phips of their good luck. 
 
 But, confidently as the Captain had hoped to find 
 the Spanish wreck, yet, now that it was really found, 
 the news seemed too good to be true. He could not 
 believe it till the sailors showed him the lump of 
 silver. 
 
 " Thanks be to God ! " then cries Captain Phips. 
 " We shall every man of us make our fortunes ! " 
 
 Hereupon the captain and all the crew set to work, 
 with iron rakes and great hooks and lines, fishing for 
 gold and silver at the bottom of the sea. Up came 
 the treasure in abundance. Now they beheld a table 
 of solid silver, once the property of an old Spanish 
 Grandee. Now they found a sacramental vessel, which 
 had been destined as a gift to some Catholic church. 
 Now they drew up a golden cup, fit for the king of 
 Spain to drink his wine out of. Perhaps the bony 
 hand of its former owner had been grasping the pre 
 cious cup, and was drawn up along with it. Now their 
 rakes or fishing-lines were loaded with masses of sil 
 ver bullion. There were also precious stones among 
 the treasure, glittering and sparkling, so that it is a 
 wonder how their radiance could have been concealed, 
 
 There is something sad and terrible in the idea of 
 snatching all this wealth from the devouring ocean, 
 which had possessed it for such a length of years. It 
 seems as if men had no right to make themselves rich 
 with it. It ought to have been left with the skeletons 
 of the ancient Spaniards, who had been drowned 
 when the ship was wrecked, and whose bones were 
 now scattered among the gold and silver. 
 
66 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 But Captain Phips and his crew were troubled 
 with no such thoughts as these. After a day or two 
 they lighted on another part of the wreck, where they 
 found a great many bags of silver dollars. But no 
 body could have guessed that these were money-bags, 
 By remaining so long in the salt-water, they had be 
 come covered over with a crust which had the appear 
 ance of stone, so that it was necessary to break them in 
 pieces with hammers and axes. "When this was done, 
 a stream of silver dollars gushed out upon the deck 
 of the vessel. 
 
 The whole value of the recovered treasure, plate, 
 bullion, precious stones, and all, was estimated at more 
 than two millions of dollars. It was dangerous even 
 to look at such a vast amount of wealth. A sea cap 
 tain, who had assisted Phips in the enterprise, utterly 
 lost his reason at the sight of it. He died two years 
 afterwards, still raving about the treasures that lie at 
 the bottom of the sea. It would have been better 
 for this man if he had left the skeletons of the ship 
 wrecked Spaniards in quiet possession of their wealth. 
 
 Captain Phips and his men continued to fish up 
 plate, bullion, and dollars, as plentifully as ever, till 
 their provisions grew short. Then, as they could not 
 feed upon gold and silver any more than old King 
 Midas could, they found it necessary to go in search 
 of better sustenance. Phips resolved to return to 
 England. He arrived there in 1687, and was re 
 ceived with great joy by the Duke of Albemarle and 
 other English lords who had fitted out the vessel. 
 "Well they might rejoice ; for they took by far the 
 greater part of the treasure to themselves. 
 
 The captain s share, however, was enough to make 
 
GRANDFATHER 1 8 CHAIR. 67 
 
 him comfortable for the rest of his days. It also en 
 abled him to fulfil his promise to his wife, by build 
 ing a "fair brick house" in the Green Lane of Bos 
 ton. The Duke of Albemarle sent Mrs. Pliips a 
 magnificent gold cup, worth at least five thousand 
 dollars. Before Captain Phips left London, King 
 James made him a knight ; so that, instead of the 
 obscure ship-carpenter who had formerly dwelt among 
 them, the inhabitants of Boston welcomed him on 
 his return as the rich and famous Sir William Phips. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 " SIR WILLIAM PHIPS," continued Grandfather, 
 " was too active and adventurous a man to sit still in 
 the quiet enjoyment of his good fortune. In the year 
 1690 he went on a military expedition against the 
 French colonies in America, conquered the whole 
 province of Acadie, and returned to Boston with a 
 great deal of plunder." 
 
 " Why, Grandfather, he was the greatest man that 
 ever sat in the chair ! " cried Charley. 
 
 " Ask Laurence what he thinks," replied Grand 
 father, with a smile. " Well; in the same year, Sir 
 William took command of an expedition against Que 
 bec, but did not succeed in capturing the city. In 
 1692, being then in London, King William III. ap 
 pointed him governor of Massachusetts. And now, 
 my dear children, having followed Sir William Phips 
 through all his adventures and hardships till we find 
 him comfortably seated in Grandfather s chair, we 
 will here bid him farewell. May he be as happy in 
 ruling a people as he was while he tended sheep ! " 
 
 Charley, whose fancy had been greatly taken by the 
 adventurous disposition of Sir William Phips, was 
 eager to know how he had acted and what happened 
 to him while he held the office of governor. But 
 Grandfather had made up his mind to tell no more 
 stories for the present. 
 
 " Possibly, one of these days, I may go on with 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 69 
 
 the adventures of the chair," said he. " But its his 
 tory becomes very obscure just at this point ; and I 
 must search into some old books and manuscripts be 
 fore proceeding further. Besides, it is now a good 
 time to pause in our narrative ; because the new char 
 ter, which Sir William Phips brought over from Eng 
 land, formed a very important epoch in the history of 
 the province." 
 
 " Really, Grandfather," observed Laurence, " this 
 seems to be the most remarkable chair in the world. 
 Its history cannot be told without intertwining it with 
 the lives of distinguished men and the great events 
 that have befallen the country." 
 
 " True, Laurence," replied Grandfather, smiling. 
 " We must write a book with some such title as this, 
 MEMOIRS OF MY OWN TIMES, BY GRANDFATHER S 
 CHAIR." 
 
 " That would be beautiful ! " exclaimed Laurence, 
 clapping his hands. 
 
 " But, after all," continued Grandfather, " any 
 other old chair, if it possessed memory and a hand to 
 write its recollections, could record stranger stories 
 than any that I have told you. From generation to 
 generation,, a chair sits familiarly in the midst of hu 
 man interests, and is witness to the most secret and 
 confidential intercourse that mortal man can hold with 
 his fellow. The human heart may best be read in 
 the fireside chair. And as to external events, Grief . 
 and Joy keep a continual vicissitude around it and ; 
 within it. Now we see the glad face and glowing 
 form of Joy, sitting merrily in the old chair, arid 
 throwing a warm fire-light radiance over all the house 
 hold. Now, while we thought not of it, the dark clad 
 
TO GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 mourner, Grief, has stolen into the place of Joy, but 
 not to retain it long. The imagination can hardly 
 graep so wide a subject as is embraced in the experi 
 ence of a family chair." 
 
 "It makes my breath flutter, my heart thrill, to 
 think of it," said Laurence. " Yes ; a family chair 
 must have a deeper history than a Chair of State." 
 
 " O, yes ! " cried Clara, expressing a woman s feel 
 ing on the point in question; "the history of a coun 
 try is not nearly so interesting as that of a single fam 
 ily would be." 
 
 " But the history of a country is more easily told," 
 said Grandfather. " So, if we proceed with our nar 
 rative of the chair, I shall still confine myself to its 
 connexion with public events." 
 
 Good old Grandfather now rose and quitted the 
 room, while the children remained gazing at the 
 chair. Laurence, so vivid was his conception of past 
 times, would hardly have deemed it strange if its for 
 mer occupants, one after another, had resumed the 
 seat which they had each left vacant such a dim 
 length of years ago. 
 
 First, the gentle and lovely lady Arbella would 
 have been seen in the old chair, almost sinking out of 
 its arms for very weakness ; then Roger "Williams, in 
 his cloak and band, earnest, energetic, and benevo 
 lent ; then the figure of Anne Ilutchinson, with the 
 like gesture as when she presided at the assemblages 
 of women ; then the dark, intellectual face of Yane, 
 "young in years, but in sage counsel old." ISText 
 would have appeared the successive governors, Win- 
 throp, Dudley, Bellingham, and Endicott, who sat in 
 the chair while; it was a Chair of State, Then its 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 71 
 
 ample seat would have been pressed by the comfort 
 able, rotund corporation of the honest mint- master. 
 Then the half -frenzied shape of Mary Dyer, the per 
 secuted Quaker woman, clad in sackcloth and ashes, 
 would have rested in it for a moment. Then the holy 
 apostolic form of Eliot would have sanctified it. Then 
 would have arisen,, like the shade of departed Puri 
 tanism, the venerable dignity of the white-bearded 
 Governor Bradstreet. Lastly, on the gorgeous crim 
 son cushion of Grandfather s chair, would have shone 
 the purple and golden magnificence of Sir "William 
 Phips. 
 
 But, all these, with the other historic personages, in 
 the midst of whom the chair had so often stood, had 
 passed, both in substance and shadow, from the scene 
 of ages ! Yet here stood the chair, with the old Lin 
 coln coat of arms, and the oaken flowers and foliage, 
 and the fierce lion s head at the summit, the whole, 
 apparently, in as perfect preservation as when it had 
 first been placed in the Earl of Lincoln s hall. And 
 what vast changes of society and of nations had been 
 wrought by sudden convulsions or by slow degrees 
 since that era ! 
 
 " This chair had stood firm when the thrones of 
 kings were overturned ! " thought Laurence. " Its 
 oaken frame has proved stronger than many frames 
 of government ! " 
 
 More the thoughtful and imaginative boy might 
 have mused ; but now a large yellow cat, a great fa 
 vorite with all the children, leaped in at the open 
 window. Perceiving that Grandfather s chair was 
 empty, and having often before experienced its com 
 forts, puss laid herself quietly down upon the cushion, 
 
72 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice all laughed 
 at the idea of such a successor to the worthies of old 
 times. 
 
 " Pussy," said little Alice, putting out her hand, 
 into which the cat laid a velvet paw, " you look very 
 wise. Do tell us a story about GRANDFATHER S 
 CHAIK!" 
 
FAMOUS OLD PEOPLE. 
 
 BEING THE SECOND EPOCH OF GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " On, Grandfather, dear Grandfather," cried little 
 Alice, "pray tell us some more stories about your 
 chair ! " 
 
 How long a time had fled since the children had 
 felt any curiosity to hear the sequel of this venerable 
 chair s adventures ! Summer was now past arid gone, 
 and the better part of autumn likewise. Dreary, chill 
 November was howling out of doors, and vexing the 
 atmosphere with sudden showers of wintry rain, or 
 sometimes with gusts of snow, that rattled like small 
 pebbles against the windows. 
 
 When the weather began to grow cool, Grand 
 father s chair had been removed from the summer 
 parlor into a smaller and snugger room. It now stood 
 by the side of a bright, blazing wood-fire. Grand 
 father loved a wood-fire far better than a grate of glow 
 ing anthracite, or than the dull heat of an invisible 
 furnace, whieh seems to think that it has done its 
 duty in merely warming the house. But the wood- 
 fire is a kindly, cheerful, sociable spirit, sympathizing 
 with mankind, and knowing that to create warmth is 
 but one of the good offices which are expected from it. 
 
74 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Therefore it dances on the hearth, and laughs broad 
 ly through the room, and plays a thousand antics, 
 and throws a joyous glow over all the faces that encir 
 cle it. 
 
 In the twilight of the evening the fire grew bright 
 er and more cheerful. And thus, perhaps, there was 
 something in Grandfather s heart that cheered him 
 most with its warmth and comfort in the gathering 
 twilight of old age. He had been gazing at the red 
 embers as intently as if his past life were all pictured 
 there, or as if it were a prospect of the future world, 
 when little Alice s voice aroused him. 
 
 " Dear Grandfather," repeated the little girl, more 
 earnestly, " do talk to us again about your chair." 
 
 Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice 
 had been attracted to other objects for two or three 
 months past. They had sported in the gladsome sun 
 shine of the present, and so had f orgetten the shadowy 
 region of the past, in the midst of which stood Grand 
 father s chair. But now, in the autumnal twilight, 
 illuminated by the flickering blaze of the wood-fire, 
 they looked at the old chair, and thought that it had 
 never before worn such an interesting aspect. There 
 it stood in the venerable majesty of more than two 
 hundred years. The light from the hearth quivered 
 upon the flowers and foliage that were wrought 
 into its oaken back ; and the lion s head at the 
 summit seemed almost to move its jaws and shake 
 its mane. 
 
 " Does little Alice speak for all of you ? " asked 
 Grandfather. " Do you wish me to go on with the 
 adventures of the chair ? " 
 
 Oh yes, yes, Grandfather !" cried Clara. " The 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 75 
 
 dear old chair ! How strange that we should have 
 forgotten it so long ! " 
 
 " Oh, pray begin, Grandfather," said Laurence, " f 01 
 I think, when we talk about old times, it should be in 
 the early evening, before the candles are lighted. 
 The shapes of the famous persons who once sat in the 
 chair will be more apt to come back, and be seen 
 among us, in this glimmer and pleasant gloom, than 
 they would in the vulgar daylight. And, besides, we 
 can make pictures of all that you tell us among the 
 glowing embers and white ashes." 
 
 Our friend Charley, too, thought the evening the 
 best time to hear Grandfather s stories, because he 
 could not then be playing out of doors. So finding 
 his young auditors unanimous in their petition, the 
 good old gentleman took up the narrative of the his 
 toric chair at the point where he had dropped it. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 "You recollect, my dear children," said Grand 
 father, "that we took leave of the chair in 1692, 
 while it was occupied by Sir William Phips. This 
 fortunate treasure-seeker, you will remember, had 
 come over from England, with King William s com 
 mission, to be governor of Massachusetts. Within 
 the limits of this province were now included the 
 old colony of Plymouth and the territories of Maine 
 and Nova Scotia. Sir William Phips had likewise 
 brought a new charter from the king, which served 
 instead of a constitution, and set forth the method in 
 which the province was to be governed." 
 
 " Did the new charter allow the people all their 
 former liberties ? " inquired Laurence. 
 
 " No," replied Grandfather. " Under the first 
 charter, the people had been the source of all power. 
 Winthrop, Endicott, Bradstreet, and the rest of them 
 had been governors by the choice of the people, with 
 out any interference of the king. But henceforth 
 the governor was to hold his station solely by the 
 king s appointment and during his pleasure ; and 
 the same was the case with the lieutenant-governor 
 and some other high officers. The people, however, 
 were still allowed to choose representatives ; and the 
 governor s council was chosen by the general court." 
 
 " Would the inhabitants have elected Sir William 
 Phips," asked Laurence, " if the choice of governor 
 hacl been left to them ? " 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 77 
 
 "He might probably have been a successful candi 
 date," answered Grandfather; "for his adventures 
 and military enterprises had gained him a sort of re 
 nown, which always goes a great way with the people. 
 Ajid he had many popular characteristics, being a 
 kind, warm-hearted man, not ashamed of his low ori 
 gin nor haughty in his present elevation. Soon after 
 his arrival, he proved that he did not blush to recog 
 nize his former associates." 
 
 "How was that? " inquired Charley. 
 
 " lie made a grand festival at his new brick house," 
 said Grandfather, "and invited all the ship-carpen 
 ters of Boston to be his guests. At the head of the 
 table, in our great chair, sat Sir "William Phips him 
 self, treating these hard handed men as his brethren, 
 cracking jokes with them, and talking familiarly 
 about old times. I know not whether he wore his 
 embroidered dress ; but I rather choose to imagine 
 that he had on a suit of rough clothes, such as he used 
 to labor in while he was Phips the ship-carpenter." 
 
 " An aristocrat need not be ashamed of the trade," 
 observed Laurence ; " for the czar Peter the Great 
 once served an apprenticeship to it." 
 
 " Did Sir William Phips make as good a governor 
 as he was a ship-carpenter ? " asked Charley. 
 
 "History says but little about his merits as a ship- 
 carpenter," answered Grandfather ; " but, as a gov 
 ernor, a great deal of fault was found with him. Al 
 most as soon as he assumed the government, he be 
 came engaged in a very frightful business, which 
 might have perplexed a wiser and better cultivated 
 head than his. This was the witchcraft delusion." 
 
 And here Grandfather gave his auditors such de- 
 
78 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 tails of this melancholy affair as he thought it fit for 
 them to know. They shuddered to hear that a frenzy, 
 which led to the death of many innocent persons, had 
 originated in the wicked arts of a few children. They 
 belonged to the Rev. Mr. Parris, minister of Salem 
 These children complained of being pinched ana 
 pricked with pins, and otherwise tormented by the 
 shapes of men and women, who were supposed to 
 have power to haunt them invisibly, both in darkness 
 and day-light. Often in the midst of their family 
 and friends the children would pretend to be seized 
 with strange convulsions, and would cry out that the 
 witches were afflicting them. 
 
 These stories spread abroad, and caused great tu 
 mult and alarm. From the foundation of New Eng 
 land, it had been the custom of the inhabitants, in all 
 matters of doubt and difficulty, to look to their min 
 isters for counsel. So they did now ; but, unfortu 
 nately, the ministers and the wise men were more de 
 luded than the illiterate people. Cotton Mather, a 
 very learned and eminent clergyman, believed that 
 the whole country was full of witches and wizards, 
 who had given up their hopes of heaven, and signed 
 a covenant with the Evil One. 
 
 Nobody could be certain that his nearest neighbor 
 or most intimate friend was not guilty of this imag 
 inary crime. The number of those who pretended 
 to be afflicted by witchcraft grew daily more numer 
 ous ; and they bore testimony against many of the 
 best and worthiest people. A minister, named George 
 Burroughs, was among the accused. In the months of 
 August and September, 1692, he and nineteen other 
 innocent men and women were put to death. The 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 79 
 
 place of execution was a high hill, on the outskirts of 
 Salem ; so that many of the sufferers, as they stood 
 beneath the gallows, could discern their own habita 
 tions in the town. 
 
 The martyrdom of these guiltless persons seemed 
 only to increase the madness. The afflicted now 
 grew bolder in their accusations. Many people of 
 rank and wealth were either thrown into prison or 
 compelled to flee for their lives. Among these were 
 two sons of old Simon Bradstreet, the last of the Pur 
 itan governors. Mr. Willard, a pious minister of Bos 
 ton, was cried out upon as a wizard in open court. 
 Mrs. Hale, the wife of the minister of Beverly, was 
 likewise accused. Philip English, a rich merchant 
 of Salem, found it necessary to take flight, leaving his 
 property and business in confusion. But a short time 
 afterwards, the Salem people were glad to invite him 
 back. 
 
 " The boldest thing that the accusers did," contin 
 ued Grandfather, " was to cry out against the govern 
 or s own beloved wife. Yes ; the lady of Sir Wil 
 liam Phips was accused of being a witch and of flying 
 through the air to attend witch meetings. When the 
 governor heard this he probably trembled, so that 
 our great chair shook beneath him." 
 
 "Dear Grandfather," cried little Alice, clinging 
 closer to his knee, " is it true that witches ever come 
 in the night-time to frighten little children ? " 
 
 "No, no, dear little Alice," replied Grandfather. 
 " Even if there were any witches, they would flee 
 away from the presence of a pure-hearted child. 
 But there are none ; and our forefathers soon became 
 convinced that they had been led into a terrible delu- 
 
80 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 sion. All the prisoners on account of witchcraft were 
 set free. But the innocent dead could not be restored 
 to life ; and the hill where they were executed will 
 always remind the people of the saddest and most 
 humiliating passage in our history. 
 
 Grandfather then said that the next remarkable 
 event, while Sir William Phips remained in the 
 chair, was the arrival at Boston of an English fleet 
 in 1G93. It brought an army which was intended for 
 the conquest of Canada. But a malignant disease, 
 more fatal than the small-pox, broke out among the 
 soldiers and sailors, and destroyed the greater part of 
 them. The infection spread into the town of Boston, 
 and made much havoc there. This dreadful sickness 
 caused the governor and Sir Francis Wheeler, who 
 was commander of the British forces, to give up all 
 thoughts of attacking Canada. 
 
 " Soon after this," said Grandfather, " Sir William 
 Phips quarrelled with the captain of an English 
 frigate, and also with the Collector of Boston. Being 
 a man of violent temper, he gave each of them a sound 
 beating with his cane," 
 
 "He was a bold fellow," observed Charley, who 
 was himself somewhat addicted to a similar mode of 
 settling disputes. 
 
 " More bold than wise," replied Grandfather ; " for 
 complaints w r ere carried to the king, and Sir William 
 Phips was summoned to England to make the best 
 answer he could. Accordingly he went to London, 
 where, in 1695, he was seized with a malignant fever, 
 of which he died. JIad he lived longer, he would 
 probably have gone again in search of sunken treas 
 ure, lie had heard of a Spanish ship, which wai? 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 81 
 
 cast away in 1502, during the lifetime of Columbus. 
 Bovadilla, Roldan, and many other Spaniards were 
 lost in her, together with the immense wealth of which 
 they had robbed the South American kings." 
 
 " Why, Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, " what 
 magnificent ideas the governor had ! Only think of 
 recovering all that old treasure which had lain almost 
 two centuries under the sea ! Methiriks Sir William 
 Pliips ought to have been buried in the ocean when 
 he died, so that he might have gone down among the 
 sunken ships and cargoes of treasure which he was al 
 ways dreaming about in his lifetime." 
 
 " He was buried in one of the crowded cemeteries of 
 London," said Grandfather. " As he left no children, 
 his estate was inherited by his nephew, from whom 
 is descended the present Marquis of Normany, Lord- 
 Lieutenant of Ireland. The noble Marquis is not 
 aware, perhaps, that the prosperity of his family orig 
 inated in the successful enterprise of a !N r ew England 
 ship-carpenter." 
 6 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 " AT the death of Sir William Phips," proceeded 
 Grandfather, " our chair was bequeathed to Mr. Eze- 
 kiel Cheever, a famous school-master in Boston. This 
 old gentleman came from London in 1637, and had 
 been teaching school ever since ; so that there were 
 now aged men, grandfathers like myself, to whom 
 Master Cheever had taught their alphabet. He was 
 a person of venerable aspect, and wore a long white 
 beard." 
 
 " "Was the chair placed in his school ? " asked Char- 
 ley. 
 
 " Yes, in his school," answered Grandfather ; " and 
 we may safely say that it had never before been re 
 garded with such awful reverence, no, not even when 
 the old governors of Massachusetts sat in it. Even 
 you, Charley, my boy, would have felt some respect 
 for the chair if you had seen it occupied by this fa 
 mous schoolmaster." 
 
 And here Grandfather endeavored to give his au 
 ditors an idea how matters were managed in schools 
 above a hundred years ago. As this will probably be 
 an interesting subject to our readers, we shall make a 
 separate sketch of it, and call it 
 
 THE OLD-FASHIONED SCHOOL. 
 
 Now, imagine yourselves, my children, in Master 
 Ezekiel Cheever s school-room. It is a large, dingy 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 83 
 
 room, with a sanded floor, and is lighted by windows 
 that turn on hinges and have little diamond shaped 
 panes of glass. The scholars sit on long benches, 
 with desks before them. At one end of the room is 
 a great fire-place, so very spacious that there is room 
 enough for three or four boys to stand in each of the 
 chimney corners. This was the good old fashion of 
 fireplaces when there was wood enough in the forests 
 to keep people warm without their digging into the 
 bowels of the earth for coal. 
 
 It is a winter s day w r hen we take our peep into the 
 school-room. See what great logs of wood have been 
 rolled into the fireplace, and what a broad, bright 
 blaze goes leaping up the chimney ! And every few 
 moments a vast cloud of smoke is puffed into the 
 room, which sails slowly over the heads of the schol 
 ars, until it gradually settles upon the walls and ceil 
 ing. They are blackened with the smoke of many 
 years already. 
 
 Next look at our old historic chair ! It is placed, 
 you perceive, in the most comfortable part of the 
 room, where the generous glow of the fire is suffi 
 ciently felt without being too intensely hot. How 
 stately the old chair looks, as if it remembered its 
 many famous occupants, but yet were conscious that 
 a greater man is sitting in it now ! Do you see the 
 venerable school-master, severe in aspect, with a 
 black skullcap on his head, like an ancient Puritan, 
 and the snow of his white beard drifting down to his 
 very girdle ? What boy would dare to play, or whis 
 per, or even glance aside from his book, while Mas 
 ter Cheever is on the look-out behind his spectacles ! 
 For such offenders, if any such there be, a rod of 
 
84 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 birch is hanging over the fire-place, and a heavy 
 fernle lies on the master s desk. 
 
 And now school is begun. "What a murmur of 
 multitudinous tongues, like the whispering leaves of 
 a wind-stirred oak, as the scholars con over their 
 various tasks ! Buz ! buz ! buz ! Amid just such 
 a murmur has Master Cheever spent above sixty 
 years ; and long habit has made it as pleasant to him 
 as the hum of a bee-hive when the insects are busy in 
 the sunshine. 
 
 Now a class in Latin is called to recite. Forth 
 steps a row of queer-looking little fellows, wearing 
 square-skirted coats and small-clothes, with buttons 
 at the knee. They look like so many grandfathers 
 in their second childhood. These lads are to be sent 
 to Cambridge and educated for the learned profes 
 sions. Old Master Cheever has lived so long, and 
 seen so many generations of school-boys grow up to 
 be men, that now he can almost prophesy what sort 
 of a man each boy will be. One urchin shall here 
 after be a doctor, and administer pills and potions, 
 and stalk gravely through life, perfumed with assa- 
 fcetida. Another shall wrangle at the bar, and fight 
 his way to wealth and honors, and, in his declining 
 age, shall be a worshipful member of his Majesty s 
 council. A third and he the master s favorite 
 shall be a worthy successor to the old Puritan minis 
 ters now in their graves ; he shall preach with great 
 unction and effect, and leave volumes of sermons, in 
 print and manuscript, for the benefit of future gen 
 erations. 
 
 But, as they are merely school-boys now, their busi 
 ness is to construe Virgil. Poor Virgil, whose verses, 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 85 
 
 which he took so much pains to polish, have been 
 miss canned, and mis-parsed, and mis-interpreted by 
 so many generations of idle school-boys ! There, 
 sit down, ye Latinists. Two or three of you, I fear, 
 ire doomed to feel the masters ferule. 
 
 !N~ext comes a class in Arithmetic. These boys are 
 to be merchants, shop-keepers, and mechanics of a 
 future period. Hitherto they have traded only in 
 marbles and apples. Hereafter some will send ves 
 sels to England for broadcloths and all sorts of manu 
 factured wares, and to the West Indies for sugar, and 
 rum, and coffee. Others will stand behind counters, 
 and measure tape, and ribbon, and cambric by the 
 yard. Others will upheave the blacksmith s ham 
 mer, or drive the plane over the carpenter s bench, 
 or take the lapstone and the awl and learn the trade 
 of shoemaking. Many will follow the sea, and become 
 bold, rough sea-captains. 
 
 This class of boys, in short, must supply the world 
 with those active, skilful hands, and clear, sagacious 
 heads, without which the affairs of life would be 
 thrown into confusion by the theories of studious and 
 visionary men. Wherefore, teach them their multi 
 plication table, good Master Cheever, and whip them 
 well when they deserve it ; for much of the country s 
 welfare depends on these boys. 
 
 But, alas ! while we have been thinking of other 
 matters, Master Cheever s watchful eye has caught 
 two boys at play. ]S r ow we shall see awful times. 
 The two malefactors are summoned before the mas 
 ter s chair, wherein he sits with the terror of a judge 
 upon his brow. Our old chair is now a judgment- 
 seat. Ah, Master Cheever has taken down that ter- 
 
8G GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 rible bircli-rod ! Short is the trial, the sentence 
 quickly passed, and now the judge prepares to exe 
 cute it in person. Thwack ! thwack ! thwack ! In 
 these good old times, a school-master s blows were 
 well laid on. 
 
 See ! the birch-rod has lost several of its twiga 
 and will hardly serve for another execution. Mercy 
 on us, what a bellowing the urchins make ! My ears 
 are almost deafened, though the clamor comes through 
 the far length of a hundred and fifty years. There, 
 go to your seats, poor boys ; and do not cry, sweet 
 little Alice, for they have ceased to feel the pain a 
 long time since. 
 
 And thus the forenoon passes away. Now it is 
 twelve o clock. The master looks at his great silver 
 watch, and then, with tiresome deliberation, puts the 
 ferule into his desk. The little multitude await the 
 word of dismissal with almost irrepressible impa 
 tience. 
 
 " You are dismissed," sa} r s Master Cheever. 
 
 The boys retire, treading softly until they have 
 passed the threshold ; but, fairly out of the school 
 room, lo, what a joyous shout ! what a scampering 
 and tramping of feet ! what a sense of recovered free 
 dom expressed in the merry uproar of all their voices ! 
 What care they for the ferule and birch-rod now ? 
 "Were boys created merely to study Latin and arith 
 metic ? Xo ; the better purposes of their being are 
 to sport, to leap, to run, to shout, to slide upon the 
 ice, to snow-ball. 
 
 Happy boys ! Enjoy your playtime now, and come 
 again to study and to feel the birch-rod and the ferule 
 to morrow ; not till to-morrow ; for to-day is Thurs- 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 87 
 
 day-lecture ; and, ever since the settlement of Massa 
 chusetts, there has been no school on Thursday after 
 noons. Therefore, sport, boys, while you may, for 
 the morrow cometh, with the birch-rod and the ferule , 
 und after that another Morrow, with troubles of its 
 own. 
 
 Now the master has set everything to rights, and is 
 ready to go home to dinner. Yet he goes reluct 
 antly. The old man has spent so much of his life in 
 the smoky, noisy, buzzing school-room, that, when he 
 has a holiday, he feels as if his place were lost and 
 himself a stranger in the world. But forth he goes ; 
 and there stands our old chair, vacant and solitary, 
 till good Master Cheever resumes his seat in it to 
 morrow morning. 
 
 " Grandfather," said Charley, " I wonder whether 
 the boys did not use to upset the old chair when the 
 schoolmaster was out." 
 
 " There is a tradition," replied Grandfather, " that 
 one of its arms was dislocated in some such manner. 
 But I cannot believe that any school-boy would be 
 have so naughtily." 
 
 As it was now later than little Alice s usual bed 
 time, Grandfather broke off his narrative, promising 
 to talk more about Master Cheever and his scholars 
 some other evening. 
 
CHAPTER IY. 
 
 ACCORDINGLY, the next evening, Grandfather ro 
 sumed the history of his beloved chair. 
 
 " Master Ezekiel Cheever," said he, " died in 1707, 
 after having taught school about seventy years. It 
 would require a pretty good scholar in arithmetic to 
 tell how many stripes he had inflicted, and how 
 many birch-rods he had worn out, during all that 
 time, in his fatherly tenderness for his pupils. Al 
 most all the great men of that period, and for many 
 years back, had been whipt into eminence by Master 
 Cheever. Moreover, he had written a Latin Acci 
 dence, which w T as used in schools more than half a 
 century after his death ; so that the good old man, 
 even in his grave, was still the cause of trouble and 
 stripes to idle school-boys." 
 
 Grandfather proceeded to say, that, when Master 
 Cheever died, he bequeathed the chair to the most 
 learned man that was educated at his school, or that 
 had ever been born in America. This was the re 
 nowned Cotton Mather, minister of the Old Korth 
 Church in Boston. 
 
 " And author of the Magnalia, Grandfather, which 
 we sometimes see you reading," said Laurence. 
 
 " Yes, Laurence, " replied Grandfather. " The 
 Magnalia is a strange, pedantic history, in which true 
 events and real personages move before the reader 
 with the dreamy aspect which they wore in Cotton 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 89 
 
 Mather s singular mind. This huge volume, how 
 ever, was written and published before our chair 
 came into his possession. But, as he was the author 
 of more books than there are days in the year, we 
 may conclude that he wrote a great deal while sitting 
 in this chair." 
 
 " I am tired of these school-masters and learned 
 men," said Charley. " I wish some stirring man, 
 that knew how to do something in the world, like Sir 
 William Phips, would sit in the chair." 
 
 " Such men seldom have leisure to sit quietly in a 
 chair," said Grandfather. " We must make the best 
 of such people as we have." 
 
 As Cotton Mather was a very distinguished man, 
 Grandfather took some pains to give the children a 
 lively conception of his character. Over the door of 
 his library were painted these words BE SHORT, as 
 a warning to visitors that they must not do the world 
 so much harm as needlessly to interrupt this great 
 man s wonderful labors. On entering the room yon 
 would probably behold it crowded, and piled, and 
 heaped with books. There were huge, ponderous 
 folios, and quartos, and little duodecimos, in English, 
 Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldaic, and all other lan 
 guages that either originated at the confusion of 
 Babel or have since come into use. 
 
 All these books, no doubt, were tossed about in 
 confusion, thus forming a visible emblem of the man 
 ner in which their contents were crowded into Cotton 
 Mather s brain. And in the middle of the room 
 stood a table, on which, besides printed volumes, were 
 strewn manuscript sermons, historical tracts, and po 
 litical pamphlets, all written in such a queer, blind, 
 
00 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 crabbed, fantastical hand, that a writing-master 
 would have gone raving mad at the sight of them. 
 By this table stood Grandfather s chair, which seemed 
 to have contracted an air of deep erudition, as if its 
 cushion were stuffed with Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, 
 and other hard matters. 
 
 In this chair, from one year s end to another, sat 
 that prodigious bookworm, Cotton Mather, some 
 times devouring a great book, and sometimes scrib 
 bling one as big. In Grandfather s younger days 
 there used to be a wax figure of him in one of the 
 Boston museums, representing a solemn, darkecl- 
 visaged person, in a minister s black gown, and with 
 a black-letter volume before him. 
 
 " It is difficult, my children," observed Grandfather, 
 " to make you understand such a character as Cotton 
 Mather s, in whom there was so much good, and yet 
 so many failings and frailties. Undoubtedly he was 
 a pious man. Often he kept fasts ; and once, for 
 three w T hole days, he allowed himself not a morsel 
 of food, but spent the time in prayer and religious 
 meditation. Many alive-long night did he watch and 
 pray. These fasts and vigils made him meagre and 
 haggard, and probably caused him to appear as if he 
 hardly belonged to the world." 
 
 " Was not the witchcraft delusion partly caused by 
 Cotton Mather ? " inquired Laurence. 
 
 " He was the chief agent of the mischief," answered 
 Grandfather ; " but we will not suppose that he acted 
 otherwise than conscientiously. He believed that 
 there were evil spirits all about the world. Doubtless 
 he imagined that they were hidden in the corners and 
 crevices of his. library, and that they peeped out from 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 91 
 
 among the leaves of many of his books, as he turned 
 them over, at midnight. He supposed that these un 
 lovely demons were everywhere, in the sunshine as 
 well as in the darkness, and that they were hidden in 
 men s hearts, and stole into their most secret thoughts." 
 
 Here Grandfather was interrupted by little Alice, 
 who hid her face in his lap, and murmured a wish 
 that he would not talk any more about Cotton Mather 
 and the evil spirits. Grandfather kissed her, and 
 told her that angels were the only spirits whom she 
 had anything to do with. He then spoke of the 
 public affairs of the period. 
 
 A new war between France and England had broken 
 out in 1702, and had been raging ever since. In the 
 course of it, New England suffered much injury from 
 the French and Indians, who often came through the 
 woods from Canada and assaulted the frontier towns. 
 Villages were sometimes burned, and the inhabitants 
 slaughtered, within a day s ride of Boston. The peo 
 ple of New England had a bitter hatred against the 
 French, not only for the mischief which they did with 
 their own hands, but because they incited the Indians 
 to hostility. 
 
 The New Englanders knew that they could never 
 dwell in security until the provinces of France should 
 be subdued and brought under the English govern 
 ment. They frequently, in time of war, undertook 
 military expeditions against Acadia and Canada, and 
 sometimes besieged the fortresses by which those ter 
 ritories were defended. But the most earnest wish of 
 their hearts was to take Quebec, and so get possession 
 of the whole province of Canada. Sir William Phips 
 had once attempted it, but without success. 
 
92 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Fleets and soldiers were often sent from England to 
 assist the colonists in their warlike undertakings. In 
 1710 Port Royal, a fortress of Acadia, was taken by 
 the English. The next year, in the month of June, a 
 fleet, commanded by Admiral Sir Ilovenden Walker, 
 arrived in Boston Harbor. On board of this fleet was 
 the English General Hill, with seven regiments of 
 soldiers, who had been fighting under the Duke of 
 Marlborough in Flanders. The government of Mas 
 sachusetts w r as called upon to find provisions for the 
 army and fleet, and to raise more men to assist in 
 taking Canada. 
 
 "What with recruiting and drilling of soldiers, there 
 was now nothing but warlike bustle in the streets of 
 Boston. The drum and fife, the rattle of arms, and 
 the shouts of boys were heard from morning till night. 
 In about a month the fleet set sail, carrying four regi 
 ments from Xew England and Kew York, besides the 
 English soldiers. The whole army amounted to at 
 least seven thousand men. They steered for the 
 mouth of the river St. Lawrence. 
 
 " Cotton Mather prayed most fervently for their 
 success," continued Grandfather, " both in his pulpit 
 and when he kneeled down in the solitude of his 
 library, resting his face on our old chair. But Provi 
 dence ordered the result otherwise. In a few weeks 
 tidings were received that eight or nine of the vessels 
 had been wrecked in the St. Lawrence, and that above 
 a thousand drowned soldiers had been washed ashore 
 on the banks of that mighty river. After this mis 
 fortune Sir Hovenden Walker set sail for England ; 
 and many pious people began to think it a sin even to 
 wish for the conquest of Canada." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR.. 93 
 
 " I would never give it up so," cried Charley. 
 
 " Nor did they, as we shall see," replied Grand 
 father. " However, no more attempts were made 
 during this war, which came to a close in 1713. The 
 people of New England were probably glad of some 
 repose; for their young men had been made soldiers, 
 till many of them were fit for nothing else. And those 
 who remained at home had been heavily taxed to pay 
 for the arms, ammunition, fortifications, and all the 
 other endless expenses of a war. There was great 
 need of the prayers of Cotton Mather and of all pious 
 men, not only on account of the sufferings of the peo 
 ple, but because the old moral and religious character 
 of New England was in danger of being utterly lost." 
 
 " How glorious it would have been," remarked Lau 
 rence, " if our forefathers could have kept the country 
 unspotted with blood." 
 
 "Yes," said Grandfather; "but there was a stern, 
 warlike spirit in them from the beginning. They 
 seem never to have thought of questioning either the 
 morality or piety of war." 
 
 The next event which Grandfather spoke of was 
 one that Cotton Mather, as well as most of the other 
 inhabitants of New England, heartily rejoiced at. 
 This was the accession of the Elector of Hanover to 
 the throne of England, in 1714, on the death of Queen 
 Anne. Hitherto the people had been in continual 
 dread that the male line of the Stuarts, who were de 
 scended from the beheaded King Charles and the ban 
 ished King James, would be restored to the throne. 
 In that case, as the Stuart family were Roman Catho 
 lics, it was supposed that they would attempt to es 
 tablish their own religion throughout the British do- 
 
94 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 minions. But the Elector of Hanover and all Iris race 
 were Protestants ; so that now the descendants of the 
 old Puritans were relieved from many fears and dis 
 quietudes. 
 
 " The importance of this event," observed Grand 
 father, " was a thousand times greater than that of a 
 Presidential Election in our own days. If the people 
 dislike their President, they may get rid of him in 
 four years ; whereas a dynasty of kings may wear the 
 crown for an unlimited period." 
 
 The German elector was proclaimed king from the 
 balcony of the town-house in Boston, by the title of 
 George the First ; while the trumpets sounded, and 
 the people cried Amen. That night the town was 
 illuminated ; and Cotton Mather threw aside book 
 and pen, and left Grandfather s chair vacant, while 
 he walked hither and thither to witness the rejoic- 
 
CHAPTEK Y. 
 
 " COTTON MATHER," continued Grandfather, " was 
 a bitter enemy to Governor Dudley ; and nobody ex 
 ulted more than he when that crafty politician was 
 removed from the government, and succeeded by 
 Colonel Shute. This took place in 1716. The new 
 governor had been an officer in the renowned Duke 
 of Marlborough s army, and had fought in some of 
 the great battles in Flanders." 
 
 " Now I hope," said Charley, " we shall hear of 
 his doing great things." 
 
 " I am afraid you will be disappointed, Charley," 
 answered Grandfather. " It is true that Colonel 
 Shute had probably never led so unquiet a life while 
 fighting the French as he did now, while governing a 
 province of Great Britain. But his troubles consisted 
 almost entirely of dissensions with the Legislature. 
 The king had ordered him to lay claim to a fixed 
 salary ; but the representatives of the people insisted 
 upon paying him only such sums from year to year 
 as they saw fit." 
 
 Grandfather here explained some of the circum 
 stances that made the situation of a colonial governor 
 so difficult and irksome. There was not the same feel 
 ing towards the chief magistrate now that had existed 
 while he was chosen by the free suffrages of the peo 
 ple. It was felt that as the king appointed the gov 
 ernor, and as he held his office during the king s 
 
06 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR 
 
 pleasure, it would be his great object to please the 
 king. But the people thought that a governor 
 ought to have nothing in view but the best interests 
 of those whom he governed. 
 
 " The governor," remarked Grandfather, u had two 
 masters to serve, the king who appointed him ; and 
 the people, on whom he depended for his pay. Few 
 men in this position would have ingenuity enough to 
 satisfy either party. Colonel Sliute, though a good- 
 natured, well-meaning man, succeeded so ill with the 
 people, that, in 1722, he suddenly went away to Eng 
 land and made complaint to King George. In the 
 meantime Lieutenant-Governor Dummer directed the 
 affairs of the province, and carried on a long and 
 bloody war with the Indians." 
 
 " But where was our chair all this time ? " asked 
 Clara. 
 
 " It still remained in Cotton Mather s library," re 
 plied Grandfather ; " and I must not omit to tell you 
 an incident which is very much to the honor of this 
 celebrated man. It is the more proper, too, that you 
 should hear it, because it will show you what a terri 
 ble calamity the smallpox was to our forefathers. 
 The history of the province (and, of course, the his 
 tory of our chair) would be incomplete without par 
 ticular mention of it." 
 
 Accordingly Grandfather told the children a story, 
 to which, for want of a better title, we shall give 
 that of 
 
 THE REJECTED BLESSING. 
 
 One day, in 1721, Doctor Cotton Mather sat in his 
 library reading a book that had been published by 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 97 
 
 the Royal Society of London. But every few mo 
 ments he laid the book upon the table, and leaned 
 back in Grandfather s chair with an aspect of deep 
 care and disquietude. There were certain things 
 which troubled him exceedingly, so that he could 
 hardly fix his thoughts upon what he read. 
 
 It was now a gloomy time in Boston. That terri 
 ble disease, the smallpox, had recently made its ap 
 pearance in the town. Ever since the first settlement 
 of the country this awful pestilence had come at in 
 tervals, and swept away multitudes of the inhabi 
 tants. Whenever it commenced its ravages, nothing 
 seemed to stay its progress until there were no more 
 victims for it to seize upon. Oftentimes hundreds of 
 people at once lay groaning with its agony ; and when 
 it departed, its deep footsteps were always to be 
 traced in many graves. 
 
 The people never felt secure from this calamity. 
 Sometimes, perhaps, it was brought into the country 
 by a poor sailor, who had caught the infection in for 
 eign parts, and came hither to die and to be the cause 
 of many deaths. Sometimes, no doubt, it followed 
 in the train of the pompous governors when they 
 came over from England. Sometimes the disease lay 
 hidden in the cargoes of ships, among silks, and bro 
 cades, and other costly merchandise which was im 
 ported for the rich people to wear. And sometimes 
 it started up seemingly of its own accord, and nobody 
 could tell whence it came. The physician, being 
 called to attend the sick person, would look at him, 
 and say: "It is the smallpox! let the patient be 
 carried to the hospital." 
 
 And now this dreadful sickness had shown itself 
 7 
 
98 GRANDFATHER S CHAI3. 
 
 again in Boston. Cotton Mather was greatly afflicted 
 for the sake of the whole province. He had chil 
 dren, too, who were exposed to the danger. At that 
 very moment he heard the voice of his youngest 
 Bon, for whom his heart was moved with apprehen 
 sion . 
 
 " Alas ! I fear for that poor child," said Cotton 
 Mather to himself. " What shall I do for my son 
 Samuel ? " 
 
 Again he attempted to drive away these thoughts 
 by taking up the book which he had been reading. 
 And now, all of a sudden, his attention became fixed. 
 The book contained a printed letter that an Italian 
 physician had written upon the very subject about 
 which Cotton Mather was so anxiously meditating. 
 He ran his eye eagerly over the pages ; and, behold ! 
 a method was disclosed to him by which the smallpox 
 might be robbed of its worst terrors. Such a method 
 was known in Greece. The physicians of Turkey, 
 too, those long-bearded Eastern sages, had been ac 
 quainted with it for many years. The negroes of 
 Africa, ignorant as they were, had likewise practised 
 it, and thus had shown themselves wiser than the 
 white men. 
 
 " Of a truth," ejaculated Cotton Mather, clasping 
 his hands and looking up to heaven, " it was a merci 
 ful Providence that brought this book under mine 
 eye ! I will procure a consultation of physicians, and 
 see whether this wondrous inoculation may not stay 
 the progress of the destroyer." 
 
 So he arose from Grandfather s chair and went out 
 of the library. Near the door he met his son Sam 
 uel, who seemed downcast and out of spirits. The 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 99 
 
 boy had heard, probably, that some of his playmates 
 were taken ill with the smallpox. But, as his father 
 looked cheerfully at him, Samuel took courage, trust 
 ing that either the wisdom of so learned a minister 
 would find some remedy for the danger, or else 
 that his prayers would secure protection from on 
 high. 
 
 Meanwhile Cotton Mather took his staff and three- 
 cornered hat and walked about the streets, calling at 
 the houses of all the physicians in Boston. They 
 were a very wise fraternity ; and their huge wigs, 
 and black dresses, and solemn visages made their wis 
 dom appear even profounder than it was. One after 
 another he acquainted them with the discovery which 
 he had hit upon. 
 
 But the grave and sagacious personages would 
 scarcely listen to him. The oldest doctor in town 
 contented himself with remarking that no such 
 thing as inoculation was mentioned by Galen or Hip 
 pocrates ; and it was impossible that modern physi 
 cians should be wiser than those old savages. A sec 
 ond held up his hands in dumb astonishment and 
 horror at the madness of what Cotton Mather pro 
 posed to do. A third told him, in pretty plain terms, 
 that he knew not what he was talking about. A. 
 fourth requested, in the name of the whole medical 
 fraternity, that Cotton Mather would confine his at 
 tention to people s souls, and leave the physicians to 
 take care of their bodies. 
 
 In short, there was but a single doctor among them 
 all who would grant the poor minister so much as a 
 patient hearing. This was Doctor Zabdiel Boylston. 
 He looked into the matter like a man of sense, and 
 
100 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 finding, beyond a doubt, that inoculation had rescued 
 many from death, he resolved to try the experiment 
 in his own family. 
 
 And so he did. But when the other physicians 
 heard of it they arose in great fury and began a war 
 of words, written, printed, and spoken, against Cot 
 ton Mather and Doctor Boylston. To hear them talk, 
 you would have supposed that these two harmless 
 arid benevolent men had plotted the ruin of the 
 country. 
 
 The people, also, took the alarm. Many, who 
 thought themselves more pious than their neighbors, 
 contended that, if Providence had ordained them to 
 die of the smallpox, it was sinful to aim at prevent 
 ing it. The strangest reports were in circulation. 
 So* ic said that Doctor Boylston had contrived a 
 method for conveying the gout, rheumatism, sick- 
 headache, asthma, and all other diseases from one 
 person to another, and diffusing them through the 
 whole community. Others flatly affirmed that the 
 Evil One had got possession of Cotton Mather, and 
 was at the bottom of the whole business. 
 
 You must observe, children, that Cotton Mather s 
 fellow citizens were generally inclined to doubt the 
 wisdom of any measure which he might propose to 
 them. They recollected how he had led them astray 
 in the old witchcraft delusion ; and now, if he thought 
 and acted ever so wisely, it was difficult for him to 
 get the credit of it. 
 
 The people s wrath grew so hot at his attempt to 
 guard them from the smallpox that he could not walk 
 the streets in peace. Whenever the venerable form 
 of the old minister, meagre and haggard with fasta 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 101 
 
 and vigils, was seen approaching, Iwsses, were .Ijeard,,, 
 and shouts of derision, and scornful -and( V-itter ;I augi<- 
 ter. The women snatched away their children from 
 his path, lest he should do them a mischief. Still, 
 however, bending his head meekly, and perhaps 
 stretching out his hands to bless those who reviled 
 him, he pursued his way. But the tears came into 
 his eyes to think how blindly the people rejected the 
 means of safety that were offered them. 
 
 Indeed, there were melancholy sights enough in the 
 streets of Boston to draw forth the tears of a compas 
 sionate man. Over the door of almost every dwelling 
 a red flag was fluttering in the air. This was the sig 
 nal that the smallpox, had entered the house and at 
 tacked some member of the family ; or perhaps the 
 whole family, old and young, were struggling at once 
 with the pestilence. Friends and relatives, when they 
 met one another in the streets, would hurry onward 
 without a grasp of the hand or scarcely a word of 
 greeting, lest they should catch or communicate the 
 contagion ; and often a coffin was borne hastily 
 along. 
 
 " Alas, alas ! " said Cotton Mather to himself, 
 " what shall be done for this poor, misguided people ? 
 Oh that Providence would open their eyes, and enable 
 them to discern good from evil ! " 
 
 So furious, however, were the people, that they 
 threatened vengeance against any person who should 
 dare to practise inoculation, though it were only in his 
 own family. This was a hard case for Cotton Mather, 
 who saw no other way to rescue his poor child Samuel 
 from the disease. But he resolved to save him, e^en 
 if his house should be burned over his head. 
 
102 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 "J ,wll not be turned aside," said lie. " My towns- 
 sfreh snail cec thai I have faith in this thing, when I 
 make the experiment on my beloved son, whose life 
 is dearer to me than my own. And when I have 
 saved Samuel, perad venture they will be persuaded to 
 save themselves." 
 
 Accordingly Samuel was inoculated ; and so was 
 Mr. Walter, a son-in law of Cotton Mather. Doctor 
 Boylston, likewise, inoculated many persons ; and 
 while hundreds died who had caught the contagion 
 from the garments of the sick, almost all were pre 
 served who followed the wise physician s advice. 
 
 But the people were not yet convinced of their 
 mistake. One night a destructive little instrument, 
 called a hand-grenade, was thrown into Cotton 
 Mather s window, and rolled under Grandfather s 
 chair. It was supposed to be filled with gunpowder, 
 the explosion of which would have blown the poor 
 minister to atoms. But the best informed historians 
 are of opinion that the grenade contained only 
 brimstone and assafoetida, and was meant to plague 
 Cotton Mather with a very evil perfume. 
 
 This is no strange thing in human experience. Men 
 who attempt to do the world more good than the world 
 is able entirely to comprehend are almost invariably 
 held in bad odour. But yet, if the wise and good man 
 can wait awhile, either the present generation or pos- 
 cerity will do him justice. So it proved in the case 
 which we have been speaking of. In after years, when 
 inoculation was universally practised, and thousands 
 were saved from death by it, the people remembered 
 old Cotton Mather, then sleeping in his grave. They 
 acknowledged that the very thing for which they had 
 
GRANDFATHER S CIIAIR. 103 
 
 so reviled and persecuted him was the best and wisest 
 thing he ever did. 
 
 " Grandfather, this is not an agreeable story," ob 
 served Clara. 
 
 " No, Clara," replied Grandfather. " But it is right 
 that you should know what a dark shadow this disease 
 threw over the times of our forefathers. And now, if 
 you wish to learn more about Cotton Mather, you 
 must read his biography, written by Mr. Peabody, of 
 Springfield. You will find it very entertaining and 
 instructive ; but perhaps the writer is somewhat too 
 harsh in his judgment of this singular man. He es 
 timates him fairly, indeed, and understands him well ; 
 but he unriddles his character rather by acuteness than 
 by sympathy. Kow, his life should have been written 
 by one who, knowing all his faults, would nevertheless 
 love him." 
 
 So Grandfather made an end of Cotton Mather, tell 
 ing his auditors that he died in 1728, at the age of 
 sixty five, and bequeathed the chair to Elisha Cooke. 
 This gentleman was a famous advocate of the people s 
 rights. 
 
 The same year William Burnet, a son of the cele 
 brated Bishop Burnet, arrived in Boston with the coin- 
 mission of governor. He was the first that had been 
 appointed since the departure of Colonel Shute. Gov 
 ernor Burnet took up his residence with Mr. Cooke 
 while the Province House was undergoing repairs. 
 During this period he was always complimented with 
 a seat in Grandfather s chair ; and so comfortable did 
 lie find it, that, on removing to the Province House, 
 
104 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 he could not bear to leave it behind him. Mr. Cooke, 
 therefore, requested his acceptance of it. 
 
 " I should think," said Laurence, " that the people 
 would have petitioned the king always to appoint a 
 native-born New-Englander to govern them." 
 
 " Undoubtedly it was a grievance," answered Grand 
 father, " to see men placed in this station who perhaps 
 had neither talents nor virtues to fit them for it, and 
 who certainly could have no natural affection for the 
 country. The king generally bestowed the governor 
 ships of the American colonies upon needy noblemen, 
 or hangers-on at court, or disbanded officers. The peo 
 ple knew that such persons would be very likely to 
 make the good of the country subservient to the wishes 
 of the king. The Legislature, therefore, endeavored 
 to keep as much power as possible in their own hands, 
 by refusing to settle a fixed salary upon the governors. 
 It was thought better to pay them according to their 
 deserts." 
 
 "Did Governor Burriet work well for his money ? " 
 asked Charley. 
 
 Grandfather could not avoid smiling at the simplicity 
 of Charley s question. Nevertheless, it put the matter 
 in a very plain point of view. 
 
 He then described the character of Governor Bur- 
 net, representing him as a good scholar, possessed of 
 much ability, and likewise of unspotted integrity, ilis 
 story affords a striking example how unfortunate it is 
 for a man, who is placed as ruler over a country, to be 
 compelled to aim at anything but the good of the 
 people. Governor Burnet was so chained down by his 
 instructions from the king that he could not act as he 
 might otherwise have wished . Consequently, his whole 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 105 
 
 term of office was wasted in quarrels with the legis 
 lature. 
 
 " I am afraid, children," said Grandfather, " that 
 Governor Burnet found hut little rest or comfort in 
 our old chair. Here he used to sit, dressed in a coat 
 which was made of rough, shaggy cloth outside, hut 
 of smooth velvet within. It was said that his own 
 character resembled that coat; for his outward man 
 ner was rough, but his inward disposition soft and 
 kind. It is a pity that such a man could not have 
 been kept free from trouble. But so harassing were 
 his disputes with the representatives of the people that 
 he fell into a fever, of which he died in 1729. The 
 legislature had refused him a salary while alive ; but 
 they appropriated money enough to give him a splendid 
 and pompous funeral. 
 
 And now Grandfather perceived that little Alice 
 had fallen fast asleep, with her head upon his foot 
 stool. Indeed, as Clara observed, she had been sleeping 
 from the time of Sir Hovenden Walker s expedition 
 against Quebec until the death of Governor Burnet, 
 a period of about eighteen years. And yet, after so 
 long a nap, sweet little Alice was a golden-haired 
 child of scarcely five years old. 
 
 " It puts me in mind," said Laurence, " of the story 
 of the enchanted princess, who slept many a hundred 
 years, and awoke as young and beautiful as ever." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A FEW evenings afterwards, cousin Clara happened 
 to inquire of Grandfather whether the old chair had 
 never been present at a ball. At the same time little 
 Alice brought forward a doll, with whom she had been 
 holding a long conversation. 
 
 " See, Grandfather ! " cried she. " Did such a 
 pretty lady as this ever sit in your great chair ? " 
 
 These questions led Grandfather to talk about the 
 fashions and manners which now began to be intro 
 duced from England into the provinces. The sim 
 plicity of the good old Puritan times was fast disap 
 pearing. This was partly owing to the increasing 
 number and wealth of the inhabitants, and to the ad 
 ditions which they continually received by the arrival 
 and settlement of people from beyond the sea. 
 
 Another cause of a pompous and artificial mode of 
 life, among those who could afford it, was, that the 
 example was set by the royal governors. Under the 
 old charter, the governors were the representatives of 
 the people, and therefore their way of living had prob 
 ably been marked by a popular simplicity. But now, 
 as they represented the person of the king, they 
 thought it necessary to preserve the dignity of their 
 station by the practice of high and gorgeous cere 
 monials. And, besides, the profitable offices under 
 the government were filled by men who had lived in 
 London, and had there contracted fashionable and 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 107 
 
 luxurious habits of living which they would not now 
 lay aside. The wealthy people of the province imi 
 tated them ; and thus began a general change in social 
 life. 
 
 " So, my dear Clara," said Grandfather, " after our 
 chair had entered the Province House, it must often 
 have been present at balls and festivals; though I 
 cannot give you a description of any particular one. 
 But I doubt not that they were very magnificent ; and 
 slaves in gorgeous liveries waited on the guests, and 
 offered them wine in goblets of massive silver." 
 
 "Were there slaves in those days!" exclaimed Clara. 
 
 " Yes, black slaves and white," replied Grandfather. 
 " Our ancestors not only brought negroes from Africa, 
 but Indians from South America, and white people 
 from Ireland. These last were sold, not for life, but 
 for a certain number of years, in order to pay the ex 
 penses of their voyage across the Atlantic. Nothing 
 was more common than to see a lot of likely Irish 
 girls advertised for sale in the newspapers. As for 
 the little negro babies, they were offered to be given 
 away like young kittens." 
 
 " Perhaps Alice would have liked one to play with, 
 instead of her doll," said Charley, laughing. 
 
 But little Alice clasped the waxen doll closer to her 
 bosom. 
 
 "Now, as for this pretty doll, my little Alice," said 
 Grandfather, " I wish you could have seen what splen 
 did dresses the ladies wore in those times. They had 
 silks, and satins, and damasks, and brocades, and high 
 head-dresses, and all sorts of fine tilings. And they 
 used to wear hooped-petticoats of such enormous size 
 that it was quite a journey to walk round them." 
 
108 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 " And how did the gentlemen dress ? ". asked Char 
 ley. 
 
 " With full as much magnificence as the ladies," 
 answered Grandfather. " For their holiday suits 
 they had coats of figured velvet, crimson, green, blue, 
 and all other gay colors, embroidered with gold or 
 silver lace. Their waistcoats, which were five times as 
 large as modern ones, were very splendid. Sometimes 
 the whole waistcoat, which came down almost to the 
 knees, was made of gold brocade." 
 
 " Why, the wearer must have shone like a golden 
 image ! " said Clara. 
 
 " And then," continued Grandfather, " they wore 
 various sorts of periwigs, such as the Tie, the Spencer, 
 the Brigadier, the Major, the Albemarle, the Ilamil- 
 lies, the Feather-top, and the Full bottom ! Their 
 three cornered hats were laced with gold or silver. 
 They had shining buckles at the knees of their small 
 clothes, and buckles likewise in their shoes. They 
 wore swords with beautiful hilts, either of silver, or 
 sometimes of polished steel, inlaid with gold." 
 
 " Oh, I should like to wear a sword ! " cried Char 
 ley. 
 
 "And an embroidered crimson velvet coat," said 
 Clara, laughing, "and a gold brocade waistcoat down 
 to your knees ! " 
 
 " And knee-buckles and shoe-buckles," said Lau 
 rence, laughing also. 
 
 " And a periwig," added little Alice, soberly, not 
 knowing what was the article of dress which she rec 
 ommended to our friend Charley. 
 
 Grandfather smiled at the idea of Charley s sturdy 
 little figure in such a grotesque caparison, He theu 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 109 
 
 went on with the history of the chair, and told the 
 children that, in 1730, King George the Second ap 
 pointed Jonathan Belcher to be governor of Massa 
 chusetts in place of the deceased Governor Bnrnet. 
 Mr. Belcher was a native of the province, but had 
 spent much of his life in Europe. 
 
 The new governor found Grandfather s chair in the 
 Province House. He was struck with its noble and 
 stately aspect, but was of opinion that age and hard 
 services had made it scarcely so fit for courtly com 
 pany as when it stood in the Earl of Lincoln s hall. 
 Wherefore, as Governor Belcher was fond of splen 
 dor, he employed a skilful artist to beautify the chair. 
 This was done by polishing and varnishing it, and by 
 gilding the carved work of the elbows, and likewise 
 the oaken flowers of the back. The lion s head now 
 shone like a veritable lump of gold. Finally Governor 
 Belcher gave the chair a cushion of blue damask, with 
 a rich golden fringe. 
 
 " Our good old chair being thus glorified," pro 
 ceeded Grandfather, " it glittered with a great deal 
 more splendor than it had exhibited just a century 
 before, when the Lady Arbella brought it over from 
 England. Most people mistook it for a chair of the 
 latest London fashion. And this may serve for an J 
 example, that there is almost always an old and time- / 
 worn substance under all the glittering show of new I 
 invention." 
 
 " Grandfather, I cannot see any of the gilding," re 
 marked Charley, who had been examining the chair 
 very minutely. 
 
 " You will not wonder that it has been rubbed off," 
 replied Grandfather, when you hear all the adven- 
 
110 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 tures that have since befallen the chair. Gilded it 
 was ; and the handsomest room in the Province House 
 was adorned by it." 
 
 There was not much to interest the children in what 
 happened during the years that Governor Belcher re 
 mained in the chair. At first, like Colonel Shute and 
 Governor Burnet, he was engaged in disputing with 
 the legislature about his salary. But, as he found it 
 impossible to get a fixed sum, he finally obtained the 
 king s leave to accept whatever the legislature chose 
 to give him. And thus the people triumphed, after 
 this long contest for the privilege of expending their 
 own money as they saw fit. 
 
 The remainder of Governor Belcher s term of office 
 was principally taken up in endeavoring to settle the 
 currency. Honest John Hull s pine-tree shillings had 
 long ago been worn out, or lost, or melted down 
 again ; and their place was supplied by bills of paper 
 or parchment, which \vere nominally valued at three 
 pence and upwards. The value of these bills kept 
 continually sinking, because the real hard money could 
 not be obtained for them. They were a great deal 
 worse than the old Indian currency of clam-shells. 
 These disorders of the circulating medium were a 
 
 O 
 
 source of endless plague and perplexity to the rulers 
 and legislators, not only in Governor Belcher s days, 
 but for many years before and afterwards. 
 
 Finally the people suspected that Governor Belcher 
 was secretly endeavoring to establish the Episcopal 
 mode of worship in the provinces. There was enough 
 of the old Puritan spirit remaining to cause most of 
 the true sons of New England to look with horror 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR 111 
 
 upon such an attempt. Great exertions were made 
 to induce the king to remove the governor. Accord 
 ingly, in 1740, he was compelled to resign his office, 
 and Grandfather s chair into the bargain, to Mr. Shir 
 ley. 
 
CIlArTEE YIL 
 
 " WILLIAM SHIRLEY," said Grandfather, " had 
 come from England a few years before, and begun to 
 practise law in Boston. You will think, perhaps, that, 
 as he had been a lawyer, the new governor used to sit 
 in our great chair reading heavy law-books from morn 
 ing till night. On the contrary, he was as stirring 
 and active a governor as Massachusetts ever had. 
 Even Sir William Phips hardly equalled him. The 
 first year or two of his administration was spent in 
 trying to regulate the currency. But in 1744, after a 
 peace of more than thirty years, war broke out between 
 France and England." 
 
 " And I suppose," said Charley, " the governor went 
 to take Canada." 
 
 " Not exactly, Charley," said Grandfather ; " though 
 you have made a pretty shrewd conjecture. He 
 planned, in 1745, an expedition against Louisburg. 
 This was a fortified city, on the island of Cape Bret 
 on, near Nova Scotia. Its walls were of immense 
 height and strength, and were defended by hundreds 
 of heavy cannon. It was the strongest fortress which 
 the French possessed in America ; and if the king of 
 France had guessed Governor Shirley s intentions, he 
 would have sent all the ships he could muster to pro 
 tect it." 
 
 As the siege of Louisburg was one of the most re 
 markable events that ever the inhabitants of New 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 113 
 
 England were engaged in, Grandfather endeavored to 
 give his auditors a lively idea of the spirit with which 
 they set about it. We shall call his description 
 
 THE PROVINCIAL MUSTER. 
 
 The expedition against Louisburg first began to bo 
 thought of in the month of January. From that 
 time the governor s chair was continually surrounded 
 by counsellors, representatives, clergymen, captains, 
 pilots, and all manner of people, with whom he con 
 sulted about this wonderful project. 
 
 First of all, it was necessary to provide men and 
 arms. The legislature immediately sent out a huge 
 quantity of paper money, with which, as if by magic 
 spell, the governor hoped to get possession of all the 
 old cannon, powder and balls, rusty swords and mus 
 kets, and everything else that would be serviceable in 
 killing Frenchmen. Drums were beaten in all the 
 villages of Massachusetts to enlist soldiers for the 
 service. Messages were sent to the other governors 
 of Xew England, and to J^ew York and Pennsylvania, 
 entreating them to unite in this crusade against the 
 French. All these provinces agreed to give what as 
 sistance they could. 
 
 But there was one very important thing to be de 
 cided. Who shall be the general of this great army ? 
 Peace had continued such an unusual length of time, 
 that there was now less military experience among the 
 colonists than at any former period. The old Pur 
 itans had always kept their weapons bright, and were 
 never destitute of warlike captains who were skilful 
 in assault or defence. But the swords of their de- 
 8 
 
114 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 scendants had grown rusty by disuse. There was 
 nobody in New England that knew anything about 
 sieges or any other regular fighting. The only per 
 sons at all acquainted with warlike business were a few 
 elderly men, who had hunted Indians through the un 
 derbrush of the forest in old Governor Dummer s war. 
 
 In this dilemma Governor Shirley fixed upon a 
 wealthy merchant, named William Pepperell, who 
 was pretty well known and liked among the people. 
 As to military skill, he had no more of it than- his 
 neighbors. But, as the governor urged him very 
 pressingly, Mr. Pepperell consented to shut up his 
 ledger, gird on a sword, and assume the title of general. 
 
 Meantime, what a hubbub was raised by this 
 scheme ! Rub-a-dub-dub ! Rub-a-dub-dub ! The rat 
 tle of drums, beaten out of all mariner of time, was 
 heard above every other sound. 
 
 Nothing now was so valuable as arms, of whatever 
 style and fashion they might be. The bellows blew, 
 and the hammer clanged continually upon the anvil, 
 while the blacksmiths were repairing the broken 
 weapons of other wars. Doubtless some of the sol 
 diers lugged out those enormous, heavy muskets 
 which used to be fired, with rests, in the time of the 
 early Puritans. Great horse-pistols, too, were found, 
 which would go off with a bang like a camion. Old 
 cannon, with touchholes almost as big as their muz 
 zles, were looked upon as inestimable treasures. 
 Pikes which, perhaps, had been handled by Miles 
 Standish s soldiers, now made their appearance again. 
 Many a young man ransacked the garret and brought 
 forth his great-grandfather s sword, corroded with rust 
 and stained with the blood of King Philip s War. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 115 
 
 ^Never had there been such an arming as this, when 
 a people, so long peaceful, rose to the war with the 
 best weapons that they could lay their hands upon. 
 And still the drums were heard Rub-a-dub-dub ! 
 Rub-a-dub-dub ! in all the towns and villages ; and 
 louder and more numerous grew the trampling foot 
 steps of the recruits that marched behind. 
 
 Rub-a-dub-dub ! And now the army began to 
 gather into Boston. Tall, lanky, awkward fellows 
 came in squads, and companies, and regiments, swag 
 gering along, dressed in their brown homespun 
 clothes and blue yarn stockings. They stooped as if 
 they still had hold of the plough-handles, and 
 marched without any time or tune. Hither they 
 came, from the corn-fields, from the clearing, in the 
 forest, from the blacksmith s forge, from. the carpen 
 ter s workshop, and from the shoemaker s seat. They 
 were an army of rough faces and sturdy frames. A 
 trained officer of Europe would have laughed at them 
 till his sides had ached. But there was a spirit in 
 their bosoms which is more essential to soldiership 
 than to wear red coats and march in stately ranks to 
 the sound of regular music. 
 
 Still was heard the beat of the drum, rub-a-dub- 
 dub ! And now a host of three or four thousand men 
 had found their way to Boston. Little quiet was 
 there then ! Forth scampered the school-boys, shout 
 ing behind the drums. The whole town, the whole 
 land, was on fire with war. 
 
 After the arrival of the troops, they were probably 
 reviewed upon the common. We may imagine Gov 
 ernor Shirley and General Pepperell riding slowly 
 along the line, while the drummers beat strange old 
 
116 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 tunes, like psalm-tunes, and all the officers and sol 
 diers put on their most warlike looks. It would 
 have been a terrible sight for the Frenchmen, could 
 they but have witnessed it ! 
 
 At length, on the twenty-fourth of March, 1745, 
 the army gave a parting shout, and set sail from 
 Boston in ten or twelve vessels which had been hired 
 by the governor. A few days afterwards an English 
 fleet, commanded by Commodore Peter Warren, sailed 
 also for Louisburg to assist the provincial army. So 
 now, after all this bustle of preparation, the town and 
 province were left in stillness and repose. 
 X But stillness and repose, at such a time of anxious 
 expectation, are hard to bear. The hearts of the old 
 people and women sunk within them when they re 
 flected what perils they had sent their sons, and hus 
 bands, and brothers to encounter. The boys loitered 
 heavily to school, missing the rub-a-dub-dub and tlu 
 trampling march, in the rear of which they had so 
 lately run and shouted. All the ministers prayed 
 earnestly in their pulpits for a blessing on the army 
 of New England. In every family, when the good 
 man lifted up his heart in domestic w r orship, the bur 
 den of his petition was for the safety of those deal 
 ones who were fighting under the walls of Louisburg. 
 
 Governor Shirley all this time was probably in an 
 ecstasy of impatience. He could not sit still a mo- 
 <nent. He found no quiet, not even in Grandfather s 
 ahair ; but hurried to-and-fro, and up and down the 
 staircase of the Province House. Now he mounted 
 to the cupola and looked sea-ward, straining his eyes 
 to discover if there were a sail upon the horizon. 
 Now, he hastened down the stairs, and stood beneatb 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR 117 
 
 the portal, on the red free-stone steps, to receive some 
 mud-bespattered courier, from whom he hoped to 
 hear tidings of the army. A few weeks after the de 
 parture of the troops, Commodore Warren sent a 
 small vessel to Boston with two French prisoners. 
 One of them was Monsieur Bouladrie, who had been 
 commander of a battery outside of the walls of 
 Louisburg. The other was the Marquis de la Maison 
 Forte, captain of a French frigate which had been 
 taken by Commodore Warren s fleet. These pris 
 oners assured Governor Shirley that the fortifications 
 of Louisburg were far too strong ever to be stormed 
 by the provincial army. 
 
 Day after day and week after week went on. The 
 people grew almost heart-sick with anxiety ; for the 
 flower of the country was at peril in this adventurous 
 expedition. It was now day -break on the morning of 
 the third of July. 
 
 But hark ! what sound is this ? The hurried clang 
 of a bell ! There is the Old North pealing suddenly 
 out ! there the Old South strikes in ! now the peal 
 comes from the church in Brattle Street ! the bells 
 of nine or ten steeples are all flinging their iron 
 voices at once upon the morning breeze ! Is it joy, 
 or alarm ? There goes the roar of a cannon too ! A 
 royal salute is thundered forth. And now we hear 
 the loud exulting shout of a multitude assembled in 
 the street. Huzza ! huzza ! Louisburg has surren 
 dered ! Huzza ! 
 
 " O Grandfather, how glad I should have been to 
 live in those times ! " cried Charley. * And what re- 
 
118 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 ward did the king give to General Pepperell and Gov 
 ernor Shirley ? " 
 
 " He made Pepperell a baronet ; so that he was 
 now to be called Sir William Pepperell," replied 
 Grandfather. " He likewise appointed both Pepper- 
 ell and Shirley to be colonels in the royal army. 
 These rewards, and higher ones, were \vell deserved ; 
 for this was the greatest triumph that the English 
 met in the whole course of that war. General Pep 
 perell became a man of great fame. I have seen a 
 full length portrait of him, representing him in a 
 splendid scarlet uniform, standing before the walls of 
 Louisburg, while several bombs are falling through the 
 air." 
 
 " But did the country gain any real good by the 
 conquest of Louisburg ? " asked Laurence. " Or was 
 all the benefit reaped by Pepperell and Shirley ? " 
 
 " The English Parliament," replied Grandfather, 
 " agreed to pay the colonists for all the expenses of 
 the siege. Accordingly, in 1749, two hundred and 
 fifteen chests of Spanish dollars and one hundred 
 casks of copper coin were brought from England to 
 Boston. The whole amount was about a million oi 
 dollars. Twenty-seven carts and trucks carried this 
 money from the wharf to the provincial treasury. 
 Was not this a pretty liberal reward ? " 
 
 / The mothers of the young men who were killed 
 at the siege of Louisburg would not have thought it 
 so," said Laurence. 
 
 "No, Laurence, "rejoined Grandfather ; a and every 
 warlike achievement involves an amount of physical 
 and moral evil, for which all the gold in the Spanish 
 mines would not be the slightest recompense. But 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 119 
 
 we are to consider that this siege was one of the oc 
 casions on which the colonists tested their ability for 
 war, and thus were prepared for the great contest of 
 the Revolution. In that point of view, the valor of 
 our forefathers was its own reward." 
 
 Grandfather went on to say that the success of the 
 expedition against Louisburg induced Shirley and 
 Pepperell to form a scheme for conquering Canada. 
 This plan, however, was not carried into execution. 
 
 In the year 1716 great terror was excited by the 
 arrival of a formidable French fleet upon the coast. 
 It was commanded by the Duke d Anville, and con 
 sisted of forty ships of war, besides vessels with sol 
 diers on board. With this force the French intended 
 to re-take Louisburg, and afterwards to ravage the 
 whole of New England. Many people were ready to 
 give up the country for lost. 
 
 But the hostile fleet met with so many disasters and 
 losses by storm and shipwreck, that the Duke d An 
 ville is said to have poisoned himself in despair. The 
 officer next in command threw himself upon his sword 
 and perished. Thus deprived of their commanders, 
 the remainder of the ships returned to France. This 
 was as great a deliverance for New England as that 
 which Old England had experienced in the days of 
 Queen Elizabeth, when the Spanish Armada was 
 wrecked upon her coast. 
 
 "In 1747," proceeded Grandfather, "Governor 
 Shirley was driven from the Province House, not by 
 a hostile fleet and army, but by a mob of the Boston 
 people. They were so incensed at the conduct of the 
 British Commodore Knowles, who had impressed 
 some of their fellow-citizens, that several thousands 
 
1*20 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 of them surrounded the council chamber and threw 
 stones and brickbats into the windows. The gov 
 ernor attempted to pacify them ; but not succeeding, 
 he thought it necessary to leave the town and take 
 refuge within the walls of Castle William. Quiet 
 was not restored until Commodore Knowles had sent 
 back the impressed men. This affair was a flash of 
 spirit that might have warned the English not to 
 venture upon any oppressive measures against their 
 colonial brethren." 
 
 Peace being declared between France and England 
 in 1748, the governor had now an opportunity to sit 
 at his ease in Grandfather s chair. Such repose, how 
 ever, appears not to have suited his disposition ; for, 
 in the following year he went to England, and thence 
 was dispatched to France on public business. Mean 
 while, as Shirley had not resigned his office, Lieu- 
 tenant-Governor Phips acted as chief magistrate in 
 his stead. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN the early twilight of Thanksgiving Eve came 
 Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice 
 hand in hand, and stood in a semi-circle round Grand 
 father s chair. They had been joyous throughout 
 that day of festivity, mingling together in all kinds 
 of play, so that the house had echoed with their airy 
 mirth. 
 
 Grandfather, too, had been happy though not 
 mirthful. He felt that this was to be set down as 
 one of the good Thanksgivings of his life. In truth, 
 all his former Thanksgivings had borne their part in 
 the present one ; for his years of infancy, and youth, 
 and manhood, with their blessings and their griefs, 
 had flitted before him while he sat silently in the 
 great chair. Vanished scenes had been pictured in 
 the air. The forms of departed friends had visited 
 him. Voices to be heard no more on earth had sent 
 an echo from the infinite and the eternal. These 
 shadows, if such they were, seemed almost as real to 
 him as what was actually present, as the merry 
 shouts and laughter of the children, as their figures, 
 dancing like sunshine before his eyes. 
 
 He felt that the past was not taken from him. The 
 happiness of former days was a possession forever. 
 And there was something in the mingled sorrow of 
 his lifetime that became akin to happiness, after be 
 ing long treasured in the depths of his heart. There 
 
122 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 it underwent a change, and grew more precious than 
 j pure gold. 
 
 And now came the children, somewhat aweary with 
 their wild play, and sought the quiet enjoyment of 
 Grandfather s talk. The good old sire rubbed his 
 eyes and smiled round upon them all. He was glad, 
 as most aged people are, to find that he was yet of 
 consequence, and could give pleasure to the world. 
 After being so merry all clay long, did these children 
 desire to hear his sober talk ? Oh, then, old Grand 
 father had yet a place to fill among living men, or 
 at least among boys and girls ! 
 
 " Begin quick, Grandfather," cried little Alice ; 
 " for Pussy wants to hear you." 
 
 And truly our yellow friend, the cat, lay upon the 
 hearthrug, basking in the warmth of the fire, pricking 
 up her ears, and turning her head from the children 
 to Grandfather, and from Grandfather to the chil 
 dren, as if she felt herself very sympathetic with 
 them all. A loud purr, like the singing of a tea-ket 
 tle or the hum of a spinning-wheel, testified that she 
 was as comfortable and happy as a cat could be. For 
 Puss had feasted ; and therefore, like Grandfather 
 and -the children, had kept a good Thanksgiving. 
 
 " Does Pussy want to hear me ? " said Grandfather, 
 smiling. "Well, we must please Pussy, if we can." 
 
 And so he took up the history of the chair from 
 the epoch of the peace of 1748. By one of the pro 
 visions of the treaty, Louisburg, which the New Eng- 
 landers had been at so much pains to take, was re 
 stored to the king of France. 
 
 The French were afraid that, unless their colonies 
 should be better defended than heretofore, another 
 
QRANDFATUER S CHAIR, 123 
 
 war might deprive them of the whole-. Almost as 
 soon as peace was declared, therefore, tlrey began to 
 build strong fortifications in the interior of North 
 America. It was strange to behold these warlike cas 
 tles on the banks of solitary lakes and far in the 
 midst of woods. The Indian, paddling his birch- 
 canoe on Lake Champlain, looked up at the high ram 
 parts of Ticonderoga, stone piled on stone, bristling 
 with cannon, and the white flag of France floating 
 above. There were similar fortifications on Lake On 
 tario, and near the great Falls of Niagara, and at the 
 sources of the Ohio River. And all around these 
 forts and castles lay the eternal forest, and the roll 
 of the drum died away in those deep solitudes. 
 
 The truth was ? that the French intended to build 
 forts all the way from Canada to Louisiana. They 
 would then have had a wall of military strength at 
 the back of the English settlements so as completely 
 to hem them in. The King of England considered 
 the building of these forts as a sufficient cause of war, 
 which was accordingly commenced in 175tL 
 
 "Governor Shirley," said Grandfather, "had re 
 turned to Boston in 1753. While in Paris he had 
 married a second wife, a young French girl, and now 
 brought her to the Province House. But when war 
 was breaking out it was impossible for such a bustling 
 man to stay quietly at home, sitting in our old chair, 
 with his. wife and children round about him. He 
 therefore obtained a command in the English forces." 
 
 "And what did Sir William Pepperell do? " asked 
 Charley. 
 
 " He stayed at home," said Grandfather, " and was 
 general of the militia. The veteran regiments of the 
 
124: GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 English army which were now sent across the Atlan 
 tic would have scorned to fight under the orders of 
 an old American merchant. And now began what 
 aged people call the Old French War. It would be 
 going too far astray from the history of our chair to 
 tell you one half of the battles that were fought. 1 
 cannot even allow myself to describe the bloody de 
 feat of General Brad dock, near the sources of the 
 Ohio River, in 1755. But I must not omit to men 
 tion that, when the English general was mortally 
 wounded and his army routed, the remains of it 
 were preserved by the skill and valor of GEOKGE 
 WASHINGTON." 
 
 At the mention of this illustrious name the children 
 started as if a sudden sunlight had gleamed upon the 
 history of their country, now that the great Deliverer 
 had arisen above the horizon. 
 
 Among all the events of the Old French War, 
 Grandfather thought that there was none more inter 
 esting than the removal of the inhabitants of Acadia. 
 From the first settlement of this ancient province of 
 the French, in 16(M, until the present time, its people 
 could scarcely ever know what kingdom held domin 
 ion over them. They were a peaceful race, taking 
 no delight in warfare, and caring nothing for mili 
 tary renown. And yet, in every war, their region 
 was infested with iron-hearted soldiers, both French 
 and English, who fought one another for the privi 
 lege of ill treating these poor, harmless Acadians. 
 Sometimes the treaty of peace made them subjects of 
 one king, sometimes of another. 
 
 At the peace of 1748 Acadia had been ceded to 
 England. But the French still claimed a large por 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 125 
 
 tion of it, and built forts for its defence. In 1755 
 these forts were taken, and the whole of Acadia was 
 conquered by three thousand men from Massachusetts, 
 under the command of General Window. The in 
 habitants were accused of supplying the French with 
 provisions, and of doing other things that violated 
 their neutrality. 
 
 " These accusations were probably true," observed 
 Grandfather; "for the Acadians were descended 
 from the French, and had the same friendly feel 
 ings towards them that the people of Massachusetts 
 had for the English. But their punishment was 
 severe. The English determined to tear these poor 
 people from their native homes and scatter them 
 abroad." 
 
 The Acadians were about seven thousand in num 
 ber. A considerable part of them were made pris 
 oners, and transported to the English colonies. All 
 their dwellings and churches were burned, their cat 
 tle were killed, and the whole country was laid waste, 
 so that none of them might find shelter or food in 
 their old homes after the departure of the English. 
 One thousand of the prisoners were sent to Massachu 
 setts ; and Grandfather allowed his fancy to follow 
 them thither, and tried to give his auditors an idea of 
 their situation. 
 
 We shall call this passage the story of 
 
 THE ACADIAN EXILES. 
 
 A sad day it was for the poor Acadians when the 
 armed soldiers drove them, at the point of the bayonet, 
 down to the sea-shore. Very sad were they, likewise, 
 
126 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 while tossing upon the ocean in the crowded transport 
 vessels. But methinks it must have been sadder still 
 when they were landed on the Long Wharf in Boston, 
 and left to themselves on a foreign strand. 
 
 Then, probably, they huddled together and looked 
 into one another s faces for the comfort which was not 
 there. Hitherto they had been confined on board of 
 separate vessels, so that they could not tell whether 
 their relatives and friends were prisoners along with 
 them. But now, at least, they could tell that many 
 had been left behind or transported to other regions. 
 
 Now a desolate wife might be heard calling- for her 
 
 O O 
 
 husband. He, alas ! had gone, she knew not whither ; 
 or perhaps had fled into the woods of Acadia, and had 
 now returned to weep over the ashes of their dwelling. 
 
 An aged widow was crying out in a querulous, lam 
 entable tone for her son, whose affectionate toil had 
 supported her for many a year. He was not in the 
 crowd of exiles; and what could this" aged widow do 
 but sink down and die ? Young men and maidens, 
 whose hearts had been torn asunder by separation, had 
 hoped, during the voyage, to meet their beloved ones 
 at its close. Now they began to feel that they were 
 separated forever. And perhaps a lonesome little girl, 
 a golden-haired child of five years old, the very picture 
 of our little Alice, was weeping and wailing for her 
 mother, and found not a soul to give her a kind word. 
 
 Oh, how many broken bonds of affection were here ! 
 Country lost! friends lost! their rural wealth of 
 cottage, field, and herds all lost together ! Every tie 
 between these poor exiles and the world seemed to be 
 cut off at once. They must have regretted that they 
 had not died before their exile ; for even the English 
 
QRANDFATlim S CHAIR. 127 
 
 would not have been so pitiless as to deny them graves 
 in their native soil. The dead were happy ; for they 
 were not exiles ! 
 
 While they thus stood upon the wharf, the curios 
 ity and inquisitiveness of the New England people 
 would naturally lead them into the mictet of the poor 
 Acadians. Prying busy-bodies thrust their heads into 
 the circle wherever two or three of the exiles were con 
 versing together. How puzzled did they look at the 
 outlandish sound of the French tongue ! There were 
 seen the New England women, too. They had just 
 come out of their warm, safe homes, where everything 
 was regular and comfortable, and where their hus 
 bands and children would be with them at night-fall. 
 Surely they could pity the wretched wives and mothers 
 of Acadia ! Or did the sign of the cross which the . 
 Acadians continually made upon their breasts, and j 
 which was abhorred by the descendants of the Puri- / 
 tans, did that sign exclude all pity ? 
 
 Among the spectators, too, was the noisy brood of 
 Boston school-boys, who came running, with laughter 
 and shouts, to gaze at this crowd of oddly dressed for 
 eigners. At first they danced and capered around 
 them, full of merriment and mischief. But the de 
 spair of the Acadians soon had its effect upon these 
 thoughtless lads, and melted them into tearful sym 
 pathy. 
 
 At a little distance from the throng might be seen 
 the wealthy and pompous merchants whose warehouses 
 stood on Long Wharf. It was difficult to touch these 
 rich men s hearts ; for they had all the comforts of 
 the world at their command ; and when they walked 
 abroad their feelings were seldom moved, except by 
 
128 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 the roughness of the pavement irritating their gouty 
 toes. Leaning upon their gold-headed canes, they 
 watched the scene with an aspect of composure. But 
 let us hope they distributed some of their superfluous 
 coin among these hapless exiles to purchase food and 
 a night s lodging. 
 
 After standing a long time at the end of the wharf, 
 gazing seaward, as if to catch a glimpse of their lost 
 Acadia, the strangers began to stray into the town. 
 
 They went, we will suppose, in parties and groups, 
 here a hundred, there a score, there ten, there three 
 or four, who possessed some bond of unity among 
 themselves. Here and there, was one, who, utterly 
 desolate, stole away by himself, seeking no compan 
 ionship. 
 
 Whither did they go ? I imagine them wandering 
 about the streets, telling the townspeople, in outland 
 ish, unintelligible words, that no earthly affliction ever 
 equalled what had befallen them. Man s brotherhood 
 with man was sufficient to make the New-Englanders 
 understand this language. The strangers wanted food. 
 Some of them sought hospitality at the doors of the 
 stately mansions which then stood in the vicinity of 
 Hanover Street and the North Square. Others were 
 applicants at the humble wooden tenements, where 
 dwelt the petty shopkeepers and mechanics. Pray 
 Heaven that no family in Boston turned one of these 
 poor exiles from their door ! It would be a reproach 
 upon New England, a crime worthy of heavy retri 
 bution, if the aged women and children, or even 
 the strong men, were allowed to feel the pinch of hun 
 ger. 
 
 Perhaps some of the Acadians, in their aimless wan- 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 129 
 
 derings through the town, found themselves near a 
 large brick edifice, which was fenced in from the street 
 by an iron railing, wrought with fantastic figures. 
 They saw a flight of red free-stone steps ascending to 
 a portal, above which was a balcony and balustrade. 
 Misery and desolation give men the right of free pas 
 sage everywhere. Let us suppose, then, that they 
 mounted the flight of steps and passed into the Prov 
 ince House. Making their way into one of the apart 
 ments, they beheld a richly clad gentleman, seated in 
 a stately chair, with gilding upon the carved work of 
 its back, and a gilded lion s head at the summit. 
 This was Governor Shirley, meditating upon matters 
 of war and state, in Grandfather s chair ! 
 
 If such an incident did happen, Shirley, reflecting 
 what a ruin of peaceful and humble hopes had been 
 wrought by the cold policy of the statesman and the 
 iron hand of the warrior, might have drawn a deep 
 moral from it. It should have taught him that the 
 poor man s hearth is sacred, and that armies and 
 nations have no right to violate it. It should have 
 made him feel that England s triumph and increased 
 dominion could not compensate to mankind nor atone 
 to Heaven for the ashes of a single Acadian cottage. 
 But it is not thus that statesmen and warriors mor 
 alize. 
 
 " Grandfather," cried Laurence, with emotion trem 
 bling in his voice, " did iron-hearted War itself ever 
 do so hard and cruel a thing as this before ? " 
 
 " You have read in history, Laurence, of whole 
 regions wantonly laid waste," said Grandfather. " In 
 9 
 
130 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 the removal of the Acadians, the troops were guilty of 
 no cruelty or outrage, except what was inseparable 
 from the measure." 
 
 Little Alice, whose eyes had all along been brim 
 ming full of tears, now burst forth a-sobbing; for 
 Grandfather had touched her sympathies more thaii 
 he intended. 
 
 "To think of a whole people homeless in the 
 world ! " said Clara, with moistened eyes. " There 
 never was anything so sad ! " 
 
 " It was their own fault ! " cried Charley, energeti 
 cally. " Why did not they fight for the country 
 where they were born. Then, if the worst had hap 
 pened to them, they could only have been killed and 
 buried there. They would not have been exiles 
 tfien." 
 
 " Certainly their lot was as hard as death," said 
 Grandfather. " All that could be done for them in 
 the English provinces was, to send them to the alms- 
 houses, or bind them out to taskmasters. And this 
 was the fate of persons who had possessed a comfort 
 able property in their native country. Some of them 
 found means to embark for France ; but though it 
 was the land of their forefathers, it must have been 
 a foreign land to them. Those who remained behind 
 always cherished a belief that the king of France 
 would never make peace with England till his poor 
 Acadians were restored to their country and their 
 homes." 
 
 " And did he ? " inquired Clara. 
 
 "Alas, my dear Clara," said Grandfather," it is 
 improbable that the slightest whisper of the woes of 
 Acadia ever reached the ears of Louis the Fifteenth, 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 131 
 
 The exiles grew old in the British provinces, and 
 never saw Acadia again. Their descendants remain 
 among us to this day. They have forgotten the lan 
 guage of their ancestors, and probably retain no tra 
 dition of their misfortunes. But, methinks, if I were 
 an American poet, I would choose Acadia for the 
 subject of my song." 
 
 And now, having thrown a gentle gloom around the 
 Thanksgiving fireside by a story that made the chil 
 dren feel the blessing of a secure and peaceful hearth, 
 Grandfather put off the other events of the Old 
 French War till the next evening. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ACCORDINGLY in the twilight of the succeeding eve, 
 when the red beams of the fire were dancing upon the 
 wall, the children besought Grandfather to tell them 
 what had next happened to the old chair. 
 
 " Onr chair," said Grandfather, " stood all this 
 time in the Province House. But Governor Shirley 
 had seldom an opportunity to repose within its arms. 
 He was leading his troops through the forest, or sail 
 ing in a flat-boat on Lake Ontario, or sleeping in his 
 tent, while the awful cataract of Niagara sent its 
 roar through his dreams. At one period, in the 
 early part of the war, Shirley had the chief command 
 of all the king s forces in America." 
 
 " Did his young wife go with him to the war ? " 
 asked Clara. 
 
 "I rather imagine," replied Grandfather, " that she 
 remained in Boston. This lady, I suppose, had our 
 chair all to herself, and used to sit in it during those 
 brief intervals when a young Frenchwoman can be 
 quiet enough to sit in a chair. The people of Massa 
 chusetts were never fond of Governor Shirley s young 
 French wife. They had a suspicion that she betrayed 
 the military plans of the English to the generals of 
 the French armies." 
 
 " And was it true ? " inquired Clara. 
 
 "Probably not," said Grandfather. "But the 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 133 
 
 mere suspicion did Shirley a great deal of harm. 
 Partly, peril aps, for this reason, but much more on 
 account of his inefficiency as a general, he was de 
 prived of his command in 1756, and recalled to Eng 
 land. He never afterwards made any figure in public 
 life." 
 
 As Grandfather s chair had no locomotive proper 
 ties, and did not even run on castors, it cannot be sup 
 posed to have marched in person to the Old French 
 War. But Grandfather delayed its momentous his 
 tory while he touched briefly upon some of the bloody 
 battles, sieges, and onslaughts, the tidings of which 
 kept continually coining to the ears of the old in 
 habitants of Boston. The woods of the north were 
 populous with fighting men. All the Indian tribes 
 uplifted their tomahawks, and took part either with 
 the French or English. The rattle of musketry and 
 roar of cannon disturbed the ancient quiet of the for 
 est, and actually drove the bears and other wild beasts 
 to the more cultivated portion of the country in the 
 vicinity of the sea-ports. The children felt as if they 
 were transported back to those forgotten times, and 
 that the couriers from the army, with the news of a 
 battle lost or won, might even now be heard gallop 
 ing through the streets. Grandfather told them about 
 the battle of Lake George in 1755, when the gallant 
 Colonel Williams, a Massachusetts officer, was slain, 
 with many of his countrymen. But General Johnson 
 and General Lyman, with their army, drove back the 
 enemy and mortally wounded the French leader, who 
 was called the Baron Dieskau. A gold watch, pil 
 fered from the poor baron, is still in existence, and 
 still marks each moment of time without complaining 
 
134 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 of weariness, although its hands have been in motion 
 ever since the hour of battle. 
 
 In the first years of the war there were many dis 
 asters on the English side. Among these was the loss 
 of Fort Oswego in 1756, and of Fort William Henry 
 in the following year. But the greatest misfortune 
 that befell the English during the whole war was the 
 repulse of General Abercrombie, with his army, from 
 the ramparts of Ticonderoga in 1758. He attempted 
 to storm the walls ; but a terrible conflict ensued, in 
 which more than two thousand Englishmen and New 
 Englanders were killed or wounded. The slain sol 
 diers now lie buried around that ancient fortress. 
 "When the plough passes over the soil, it turns up here 
 and there a mouldering bone. 
 
 Up to this period, none of the English generals had 
 shown any military talent. Shirley, the Earl of Lou- 
 don, and General Abercrombie had each held the 
 chief command at different times ; but not one of 
 them had won a single important triumph for the 
 British arms. This ill success was not owing to the 
 want of means ; for, in 1758, General Abercrombie 
 had fifty thousand soldiers under his command. But 
 the French general, the famous Marquis de Mont- 
 calm, possessed a great genius for war, and had some 
 thing within him that taught him how battles were 
 to be won. 
 
 At length, in 1759, Sir Jeffrey Amherst was ap 
 pointed commander-in-chief of all the British forces 
 in America. He was a man of ability and a skilful 
 soldier. A plan was now formed for accomplishing 
 that object which had so long been the darling wish 
 of the New Eiiglanders, and which their fathers had 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 135 
 
 so many times attempted. This was tlic conquest of 
 Canada. 
 
 Three separate armies were to enter Canada from 
 different quarters. One of the three, commanded by 
 General Prideaux, was to embark on Lake Ontario 
 and proceed to Montreal. The second, at the head of 
 which was Sir Jeffrey Amherst himself, was destined 
 to reach the river St. Lawrence, by the way of Lake 
 Champlain, and then go down the river to meet the 
 third army. This last, led by General Wolfe, was to 
 enter the St. Lawrence from the sea and ascend the 
 river to Quebec. It is to Wolfe and his army that 
 England owes one of the most splendid triumphs 
 ever written in her history. 
 
 Grandfather described the siege of Quebec, and 
 told how Wolfe led his soldiers up a rugged and lofty 
 precipice, that rose from the shore of the river to the 
 plain on which the city stood. This bold adventure 
 was achieved in the darkness of night. At day-break 
 tidings were carried to the Marquis de Montcalm that 
 the English army was waiting to give him battle on 
 the plains of Abraham. This brave French general 
 ordered his drums to strike up, and immediately 
 marched to encounter Wolfe. 
 
 He marched to his own death. The battle was the 
 most fierce and terrible that had ever been fought in 
 America. General Wolfe was at the head of his sol 
 diers, and, while encouraging them onward, received 
 a mortal wound. He reclined against a stone in the 
 agonies of death ; but it seemed as if his spirit could 
 not pass away while the fight yet raged so doubtfully. 
 Suddenly a shout came pealing across the battle-field. 
 " They flee ! they flee ! "and, for a moment, Wolfe 
 
136 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 lifted his languid head. " Who flee ? " lie inquired 
 " The French," replied an officer. " Then I die satis 
 fied ! " said Wolfe, and expired in the arms of victory. 
 
 " If ever a warrior s death were glorious, Wolfe s 
 was so ! " said Grandfather ; and his eye kindled, 
 though he was a man of peaceful thoughts and gentle 
 spirit. " His life-blood streamed to baptize the soil 
 which he had added to the dominion of Britain. His 
 dying breath was mingled with his army s shout of 
 victory." 
 
 " Oh, it was a good death to die ! " cried Charley, 
 with glistening eyes. ""Was it not a good death, 
 Laurence ? " 
 
 Laurence made no reply; for his heart burned 
 within him, as the picture of Wolfe, dying on the 
 blood-stained field of victory, arose to his imagina 
 tion ; and yet he had a deep inward consciousness 
 that, after all, there was a truer glory than could thus 
 be won. 
 
 "There were other battles in Canada after Wolfe s 
 victory," resumed Grandfather ; " but we may con 
 sider the Old French War as having terminated with 
 this great event. The treaty of peace, however, was 
 not signed until 1T63. The terms of the treaty were 
 very disadvantageous to the French ; for all Canada, 
 and all Acadia, and the Island of Cape Breton, in 
 short, all the territories that France and England had 
 been fighting about for nearly a hundred years, 
 were surrendered to the English." 
 
 " So now, at last," said Laurence, " New England 
 had gained her wish. Canada was taken ! " 
 
 " And now there was nobody to fight with but the 
 Indians," said Charley, 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 137 
 
 Grandfather mentioned two other important events. 
 The first was the great fire of Boston in 1760, when 
 the glare from nearly three hundred buildings, all in 
 flames at once, shone through the windows of the 
 Province House, and threw a fierce lustre upon the 
 gilded foliage and lion s head of our old chair. The 
 second event was the proclamation, in the same year, 
 of George the Third as King of Great Britain. The 
 blast of the trumpet sounded from the balcony of the 
 Town House, and awoke the echoes far and wide, as 
 if to challenge all mankind to dispute King George s 
 title. 
 
 Seven times, as the successive monarchs of Britain 
 ascended the throne, the trumpet peal of proclama 
 tion had been heard by those who sat in our ven 
 erable chair. But when the next king put on his 
 father s crown, no trumpet peal proclaimed it to New 
 England ! 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 "Now that Grandfather had fought through the old 
 French War, in which our chair made no very distin 
 guished figure, he thought it high time to tell the 
 children some of the more private history of that 
 praiseworthy old piece of furniture. 
 
 " In 1757," said Grandfather, "after Shirley had 
 been summoned to England, Thomas Pownall was 
 appointed governor of Massachusetts. He was a 
 gay and fashionable English gentleman, who had 
 spent much of his life in London, but had a consider 
 able acquaintance with America. The new governor 
 appears to have taken no active part in the war that 
 was going on ; although, at one period, he talked of 
 marching against the enemy at the head of his com 
 pany of cadets. But, on the whole, he probably con 
 cluded that it was more befitting a governor to remain 
 quietly in our chair, reading the newspapers and offi 
 cial documents." 
 
 " Did the people like Pownall ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " They found no fault with him," replied Grand 
 father. " It was no time to quarrel with the governor 
 when the utmost harmony was required in order to 
 defend the country against the French. But Pownall 
 did not remain long in Massachusetts. In 1759 he 
 was sent to be governor of South Carolina. In thus 
 exchanging one government for another, I suppose he 
 felt no regret, except at the necessity of leaving 
 Grandfather s chair behind him," 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 139 
 
 " He might have taken it to South Carolina," ob 
 served Clara. 
 
 " It appears to me," said Laurence, giving the rein 
 to his fancy, " that the fate of this ancient chair was, 
 somehow or other, mysteriously connected with the 
 fortunes of old Massachusetts. If Governor Pownall 
 had put it aboard the vessel in which he sailed for 
 South Carolina, she would probably have lain wind- 
 bound in Boston Harbor. It was ordained that the 
 chair should not be taken away. Don t you think so, 
 Grandfather ? " 
 
 " It was kept here for Grandfather and me to sit in 
 together," said little Alice, " and for Grandfather to 
 tell stories about." 
 
 " And Grandfather is very glad of such a compan 
 ion and such a theme," said the old gentleman, with a 
 smile. " AV^ell, Laurence, if our oaken chair, like the 
 wooden Palladium of Troy, was connected with the 
 country s fate, yet there appears to have been no su 
 pernatural obstacle to its removal from the Province 
 House. In 1760 Sir Francis Bernard, who had been 
 governor of Xew Jersey, was appointed to the same 
 office in Massachusetts. He looked at the old chair, 
 and thought it quite too shabby to keep company with 
 a new set of mahogany chairs and an aristocratic sofa 
 which had just arrived from London. He therefore 
 ordered it to be put away in the garret." 
 
 The children were loud in their exclamations against 
 this irreverent conduct of Sir Francis Bernard. But 
 Grandfather defended him as well as he could. He 
 observed that it was then thirty years since the chair 
 had been beautified by Governor Belcher. Most of 
 the gilding was worn off by the frequent scourings 
 
140 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 which it had undergone beneath the hands of a black 
 slave. The damask cushion, once so splendid, was 
 now squeezed out of all shape, and absolutely in tat 
 ters, so many were the ponderous gentlemen who had 
 deposited their weight upon it during these thirty 
 years. 
 
 Moreover, at a council held by the Earl of London 
 with the governors of New England in 1757, his lord 
 ship, in a moment of passion, had kicked over the 
 chair with his military boot. By this unprovoked 
 and unjustifiable act, our venerable friend had suffered 
 a fracture of one of its rungs. 
 
 " But," said Grandfather, " our chair, after all, was 
 not destined to spend the remainder of its days in 
 the inglorious obscurity of a garret. Thomas Hutch - 
 inson, lieutenant-governor of the province, was told 
 of Sir Francis Bernard s design. This gentleman 
 was more familiar with the history of New England 
 than any other man alive. lie knew all the adven 
 tures and vicissitudes through which the old chair had 
 passed, and could have told as accurately as your own 
 Grandfather who were the personages that had occu 
 pied it. Often, while visiting at the Province House, 
 he had eyed the chair with admiration, and felt a long 
 ing desire to become the possessor of it. He now 
 waited upon Sir Francis Bernard, and easily obtained 
 leave to carry it home." 
 
 " And I hope," said Clara, " he had it varnished 
 and gilded anew." 
 
 " No," answered Grandfather. " What Mr. Hutch- 
 inson desired was, to restore the chair as much as pos 
 sible to its original aspect, such as it had appeared 
 when, it was first made out of the Earl of Lincoln s 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 141 
 
 oak-tree. For this purpose he ordered it to be well 
 scoured with soap and sand and polished with wax, 
 and then provided it with a substantial leather cush 
 ion. When all was completed to his mind he sat 
 down in the old chair, and began to write his History 
 of Massachusetts." 
 
 "Oh, that was a bright thought in Mr. Hutch- 
 inson ! " exclaimed Laurence. " And no doubt the 
 dim figures of the former possessors of the chair flit 
 ted around him as he wrote, and inspired him with a 
 knowledge of all that they had done and suffered 
 while on earth." 
 
 " "Why, my dear Laurence," replied Grandfather, 
 smiling, " if Mr. Hutchinson was favored with any 
 such extraordinary inspiration, he made but a poor 
 use of it in his history ; for a duller piece of compo 
 sition never came from any man s pen. However, he 
 was accurate, at least, though far from possessing the 
 brilliancy or philosophy of Mr. Bancroft." 
 
 " But if Hutchinson knew the history of the chair," 
 rejoined Laurence, " his heart must have been stirred 
 by it." 
 
 " It must, indeed," said Grandfather. " It would 
 be entertaining and instructive, at the present day, to 
 imagine what were Mr. Hutchinson s thoughts as he 
 looked back upon the long vista of events with which 
 this chair was so remarkably connected." 
 
 And Grandfather allowed his fancy to shape out an 
 image of Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, sitting in 
 an evening reverie by his fire-side, and meditating on 
 the changes that had slowly passed around the chair. 
 
 A devoted monarchist, Hutchinson would heave no 
 sigh for the subversion of the original republican gov- 
 
142 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 eminent, the purest that the world had seen, with 
 which the colony began its existence. While rever 
 encing the grim and stern old Puritans as the found 
 ers of his native land, he would not wish to recall 
 them from their graves, nor to aw T aken again that 
 king-resisting spirit which he imagined to be lain 
 asleep with them forever. Winthrop, Dudley, Bel- 
 lingham, Endicott, Leverett, and Bradstreet ! all these 
 had had their day. Ages might come and go, but 
 never again would the people s suffrages place a re 
 publican governor in their ancient Chair of State. 
 
 Coming down to the epoch of the second charter, 
 Hutchinson thought of the ship-carpenter Phips, 
 springing from the lowest of the people and attaining 
 to the loftiest station in the land. But he smiled to 
 perceive that this governor s example would awaken 
 110 turbulent ambition in the lower orders ; for it was 
 a king s gracious boon alone that made the ship-car 
 penter a ruler. Hutchinson rejoiced to mark the 
 gradual growth of an aristocratic class, to whom the 
 common people, as in duty bound, were learning 
 humbly to resign the honors, emoluments, and au 
 thority of state. He saw or else deceived himself 
 that, throughout this epoch, the people s disposition 
 to self-government had been growing weaker through 
 long disuse, and now existed only as a faint tradition 
 ary feeling. 
 
 The lieutenant-governor s reverie had now come 
 down to the period at which he himself was sitting 
 in the historic chair. He endeavored to throw his 
 glance forward over the coming years. There, prob 
 ably, he saw visions of hereditary rank for himself 
 and other aristocratic colonists. lie saw the fertile 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 143 
 
 fields of Xew England proportioned out among a few 
 great landholders, and descending by entail from gen 
 eration to generation. He saw the people a race of 
 tenantry, dependent on their lords. He saw stars, 
 garters, coronets, and castles. 
 
 "But," added Grandfather, turning to Laurence, 
 " the lieutenant-governor s castles were built nowhere 
 but among the red embers of the fire before which 
 lie was sitting. And, just as he had constructed a 
 baronial residence for himself and his posterity, the 
 fire rolled down upon the hearth and crumbled it to 
 ashes ! " 
 
 Grandfather now looked at his watch, which hung 
 within a beautiful little ebony temple, supported by 
 four Ionic columns. He then laid his hand on the 
 golden locks of little Alice, whose head had sunk 
 down upon the arm of our illustrious chair. 
 
 " To bed, to bed, dear child ! " said he. " Grand 
 father has put you to sleep already by his stories 
 about these FAMOUS OLD PEOPLE." 
 
LIBERTY TREE 
 
 WITH THE LAST WORDS OF 
 
 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 HAS the youthful reader grown weary of Grand 
 father s stories about his chair ? Will he not come 
 this once more to our fire-side and be received as an 
 own grandchild, and as brother, sister, or cousin to 
 Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice ? Come, 
 do not be bashful, nor afraid. You will find Grand 
 father a kindly old man, with a cheerful spirit, and a 
 heart that has grown mellow, instead of becoming 
 dry and wilted w r ith age. 
 
 He will tell you how King George, trusting in the 
 might of his armies and navies, sought to establish a 
 tyranny over our fathers. Then you shall hear about 
 Liberty Tree, and what crowds used to assemble with 
 in the circumference of its shadow. Grandfather 
 must speak also about riots and disorders, and how 
 an angry multitude broke into the mansion of the 
 lieutenant-governor. Next, he will show you the 
 proud array of British soldiers, in their uniforms of 
 scarlet and gold, landing at Long Wharf, and march 
 ing to take possession of the Common and Faneuil 
 Hall and the Old State House. Then you must listen 
 to the dismal tale of the Boston Massacre. Next 
 comes the marvellous story of the tea ships and of 
 that band of Indian figures who made their appearance 
 in the dusk of evening and vanished before the dawn 
 
148 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 of day. Now come more and more regiments of sol 
 diers. Their tents whiten the Common like untimely 
 snow. Their war-horses prance and neigh within the 
 walls of the Old South Church. Hark ! that faint 
 echo comes from Lexington, where the British soldiers 
 have fired a volley that begins the war of the Revo 
 lution. The people are up in arms. Gage, Howe, 
 Bnrgoyne, Lord Percy, and many another haughty 
 Englishman are beleagured within the peninsula of 
 Boston. The Americans build batteries on every 
 hill ; and look ! a warlike figure, on a white horse, 
 rides majestically from height to height and directs 
 the progress of the siege. Can it be WASHINGTON ? 
 
 Then Grandfather will call up the shadow of a de 
 voted loyalist, and strive to paint him to your eyes 
 and heart as he takes his farewell walk through Bos 
 ton. We will trace his melancholy steps from Faneuil 
 Hall to Liberty Tree. That famous tree ! The axes 
 of the British soldiers have hewn it down, but not be 
 fore its wind-strewn leaves had scattered the spirit 
 of freedom far and wide not before its roots had 
 sprouted even in the distant soil of Georgia. 
 
 Amid all these wonderful matters we shall not lose 
 sight of GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. On its sturdy oaken 
 legs it trudges diligently from one scene to another, 
 and seems always to thrust itself in the way with the 
 most benign complacency, whenever an historical 
 personage happens to be looking round for a seat. 
 The excellent old Chair ! Let the reader make much 
 of it while lie may ; for with this little volume 
 Grandfather concludes its history, and withdraws it 
 from the public eye. 
 
 BOSTON, Feb. 27, 1841. 
 
LIBERTY TREE, 
 
 WITH THE LAST WORDS OF GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON the evening of New Year s Day Grandfather 
 was walking to and fro across the carpet, listening to 
 the rain which beat hard against the curtained win 
 dows. The riotous blast shook the casement as if a 
 strong man were striving to force his entrance into 
 the comfortable room. With every puff of the wind 
 the fire leaped upward from the hearth, laughing and 
 rejoicing at the shrieks of the wintry storm. 
 
 Meanwhile Grandfather s chair stood in its custom 
 ary place by the fireside. The bright blaze gleamed 
 upon the fantastic figures of its oaken back, and 
 shone through the open-work, so that a complete 
 pattern was thrown upon the opposite side of the 
 room. Sometimes, for a moment or two, the shadow 
 remained immovable, as if it were painted on the 
 wall. Then, all at once, it began to quiver, and leap, 
 and dance with a frisky motion. Anon, seeming to 
 remember that these antics were unworthy of si:ch a 
 dignified and venerable chair, it suddenly stood still. 
 But soon it began to dance anew. 
 
 " Only see how Grandfather s chair is dancing ! * 
 cried little Alice. 
 
150 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 And she ran to the wall and tried to catch hold of 
 the flickering shadow ; for, to children of five years 
 old, a shadow seems almost as real as a substance. 
 
 " I wish," said Clara, " Grandfather would sit down 
 in the chair and finish its history." 
 
 If the children had been looking at Grandfather, 
 they would have noticed that he paused in his walk 
 across the room when Clara made this remark. The 
 kind old gentleman was ready and willing to resume 
 his stories of departed times. But he had resolved 
 to wait till his auditors should request him to proceed, 
 in order that they might find the instructive history 
 of the chair a pleasure, and not a task. 
 
 " Grandfather," said Charley, " I am tired to death 
 of this dismal rain and of hearing the wind roar in 
 the chimney. I have had no good time all day. It 
 would be better to hear stories about the chair than 
 to sit doing nothing and thinking of nothing." 
 
 To say the truth, our friend Charley was very 
 much out of humor with the storm, because it had 
 kept him all day within doors, and hindered him 
 from making a trial of a splendid sled, which Grand 
 father had given him for a New Year s gift. As all 
 sleds, nowadays, must have a name, the one in ques 
 tion had been honored with the title of GRAND 
 FATHER S CHAIR, which was painted in golden letters 
 on each of the sides. Charley greatly admired the 
 construction of the new vehicle, and felt certain that 
 it would outstrip any other sled that ever dashed 
 adown the long slopes of the Common. 
 
 As for Laurence, he happened to be thinking, just 
 at this moment, about the history of the chair. Kind 
 old Grandfather had made him a present of a volume 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 151 
 
 of engraved portraits, representing the features of 
 eminent and famous people of all countries. Among 
 them Laurence found several who had formerly oc 
 cupied our chair or been connected with its adven 
 tures. While Grandfather walked to and fro across 
 the room, the imaginative boy was gazing at the his 
 toric chair. He endeavored to summon up the por 
 traits which he had seen in his volume, and to place 
 them, like living figures, in the empty seat. 
 
 "The old chair has begun another year of its exist 
 ence, to-day," said Laurence. " We must make haste, 
 or it will have a new history to be told before we fin 
 ish the old one." 
 
 "Yes, my children," replied Grandfather with a 
 smile and a sigh, " another year has been added to 
 those of the two hundred and ten which have passed 
 since the Lady Arbella brought this chair over from 
 England. It is three times as old as your Grand 
 father; but a year makes no impression on its oaken 
 frame, while it bends the old man nearer and nearer 
 to the earth ; so let me go on with my stories while 
 I may." 
 
 Accordingly Grandfather came to the fireside and 
 seated himself in the venerable chair. The lion s 
 head looked down with a grimly good-natured aspect 
 as the children clustered around the old gentleman s 
 knees. It almost seemed as if a real lion were peep 
 ing over the back of the chair, and smiling at the 
 group of auditors with a sort of lion-like complai 
 sance. Little Alice, whose fancy often inspired her 
 with singular ideas, exclaimed that the lion s head 
 was nodding at her, and that it looked as if it were 
 going to open its wide jaws and tell a story. 
 
152 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 But as the lion s head appeared to be in no haste 
 to speak,.and as there was no record or tradition of 
 its having spoken during the whole existence of the 
 chair, Grandfather did not consider it worth while to 
 wait. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 , my boy," said Grandfather, u do you 
 remember who was the last occupant of the chair ? " 
 
 u lt was Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson," an 
 swered Charley. " Sir Francis Bernard, the new 
 governor, had given him the chair, instead of putting 
 it away in the garret of the Province House. And 
 when we took leave of Ilutchinson he was sitting by 
 his fireside, and thinking of the past adventures of 
 the chair and of what was to come." 
 
 "Very well," said Grandfather; "and you recol 
 lect that this was in 1763, or thereabouts, at the close 
 of the Old French War. Now, that you may fully 
 comprehend the remaining adventures of the chair, I 
 must make some brief remarks on the situation and 
 character of the Xew England colonies at this 
 period." 
 
 So Grandfather spoke of the earnest loyalty of our 
 fathers during the Old French War, and after the 
 conquest of Canada had brought that war to a tri 
 umphant close. 
 
 The people loved and reverenced the King of Eng 
 land even more than if the ocean had not rolled its 
 waves between him and them ; for, at the distance of 
 three thousand miles, they could not discover his bad 
 qualities and imperfections. Their love was increased 
 by the dangers which they had encountered in order 
 to heighten his glory and extend his dominion. 
 
154 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Throughout the war the American colonists had 
 fought side by side with the soldiers of Old England ; 
 and nearly thirty thousand young men had laid down 
 their lives for the honor of King George. And the 
 survivors loved him the better because they had done 
 and suffered so much for his sake. 
 
 But there were some circumstances that caused 
 America to feel more independent of England than 
 at an earlier period. Canada and Acadia had now 
 become British provinces ; and our fathers were no 
 longer afraid of the bands of French and Indians who 
 used to assault them in old times. For a century and 
 a half this had been the great terror of New England. 
 Now the old French soldier was driven from the north 
 forever. And, even had it been otherwise, the Eng 
 lish colonies were growing so populous and powerful 
 that they might have felt fully able to protect them 
 selves without any help from England. 
 
 There were thoughtful and sagacious men, who be 
 gan to doubt whether a great country like America 
 would always be content to remain under the govern 
 ment of an island three thousand miles away. This 
 was the more doubtful, because the English Parlia 
 ment had long ago made laws which w r ere intended 
 to be very beneficial to England at the expense of 
 America. By these laws the colonists were forbid 
 den to manufacture articles for their own use, or to 
 carry on trade with any nation but the English. 
 
 " Now," continued Grandfather, " if King George 
 the Third and his counsellors had considered these 
 things wisely, they would have taken another course 
 than they did. But when they saw how rich and 
 populous the colonies had grown ? their first thought 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 155 
 
 was how they might make more profit out of them 
 than heretofore. England was enormously in debt 
 at the close of the Old French War ; and it was pre 
 tended that this debt had been contracted for the de 
 fence of the American colonies, and that, therefore, 
 a part of it ought to be paid by them." 
 
 "Why, this was nonsense," exclaimed Charley. 
 " Did not our fathers spend their lives, and their 
 money too, to get Canada for King George? " 
 
 " True, they did," said Grandfather ; " and they 
 told the English rulers so. But the king and his 
 ministers would not listen to good advice. In. 1765 
 the British Parliament passed a Stamp Act." 
 
 " What was that ? " inquired Charley. 
 
 " The Stamp Act," replied Grandfather, " was a 
 law by which all deeds, bonds, and other papers of 
 the same kind were ordered to be marked with the 
 king s stamp ; and without this mark they were de 
 clared illegal and void. Kow, in order to get a blank 
 sheet of paper with the king s stamp upon it, people 
 were obliged to pay threepence more than the actual 
 value of the paper. And this extra sum of threepence 
 was a tax, and was to be paid into the king s treas 
 ury." 
 
 " I am sure threepence was not worth quarrelling 
 about ! " remarked Clara. 
 
 " It was not for threepence, nor for any amount of 
 money, that America quarrelled with England," re 
 plied Grandfather ; " it was for a great principle. 
 The colonists were determined not to be taxed except 
 by their own representatives. They said that neither 
 the king and Parliament, nor any other power on 
 earth, had a right to take their money out of their 
 
156 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 pockets unless they freely gave it. And, rather than 
 pay threepence when it was unjustly demanded, they 
 resolved to sacrifice all the wealth of the country, and 
 their lives along with it. They therefore made a most 
 stubborn resistance to the Stamp Act." 
 
 " That was noble ! " exclaimed Laurence. " I un 
 derstand how it was. If they had quietly paid the 
 tax of threepence, they would have ceased to be free 
 men, and would have become tributaries of England. 
 And so they contended about a great question of right 
 and wrong, and put everything at stake for it." 
 
 " You are right, Laurence," said Grandfather, " and 
 it was really amazing and terrible to see what a 
 change came over the aspect of the people the mo 
 ment the English Parliament had passed this oppres 
 sive act. The former history of our chair, my chil 
 dren, has given you some idea of what a harsh, 
 unyielding, stern set of men the old Puritans were. 
 For a good many years back, however, it had seemed 
 as if these characteristics were disappearing. But no 
 sooner did England offer wrong to the colonies than 
 the descendants of the early settlers proved that they 
 had the same kind of temper as their forefathers. 
 The moment before, New England appeared like a 
 humble and loyal subject of the crown ; the next in 
 stant, she showed the grim, dark features of an old 
 king-resisting Puritan." 
 
 Grandfather spoke briefly of the public measures 
 that were taken in opposition to the Stamp Act. As 
 this law affected all the American colonies alike, it 
 naturally led them to think of consulting together in 
 order to procure its repeal. For this purpose the 
 Legislature of Massachusetts proposed that delegates 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 157 
 
 from every colony should meet in Congress. Accord 
 ingly nine colonies, both northern and southern, sent 
 delegates to the city of New York. 
 
 " And did they consult about going to war with 
 England ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " No, Charley," answered Grandfather ; " a great 
 deal of talking was yet to be done before England 
 and America could come to blows. The Congress 
 stated the rights and grievances of the colonies. They 
 sent an humble petition to the king, and a memorial 
 to the Parliament, beseeching that the Stamp Act 
 might be repealed. This was all that the delegates 
 had it in their power to do." 
 
 " They might as well have stayed at home, then," 
 said Charley. 
 
 " By no means," replied Grandfather. " It was a 
 most important and memorable event, this first com 
 ing together of the American people by their repre 
 sentatives from the north and south. If England 
 had been wise, she would have trembled at the first 
 word that was spoken in such an assembly ! " 
 
 These remonstrances and petitions, as Grandfather 
 observed, were the work of grave, thoughtful, and 
 prudent men. Meantime the young and hot-headed 
 people went to work in their own way. It is prob 
 able that the petitions of Congress would >have had 
 little or no effect on the British statesmen if the vio 
 lent deeds of the American people had not shown how 
 much excited the people were. LIBERTY TKEE was 
 soon heard of in England. 
 
 O 
 
 " What was Liberty Tree?" inquired Clara. 
 " It was an old elm tree," answered Grandfather, 
 " which stood near the corner of Essex street, op- 
 
158 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 posite the Boylston Market. Under the spreading 
 branches of this great tree the people used to assem 
 ble whenever they wished to express their feelings 
 and opinions. Thus, after a while, it seemed as if 
 the liberty of the country was connected with Liberty 
 Tree." 
 
 " It was glorious fruit for a tree to bear," remarked 
 Laurence. 
 
 "It bore strange fruit, sometimes," said Grand 
 father. " One morning in August, 1765, two figures 
 were found hanging on the sturdy branches of Lib 
 erty Tree. They were dressed in square-skirted 
 coats and small-clothes; and, as their wigs hung 
 down over their faces, they looked like real men. 
 One was intended to represent the Earl of Bute, 
 who was supposed to have advised the king to tax 
 America. The other was meant for the effigy of An 
 drew Oliver, a gentleman belonging to one of the 
 most respectable families in Massachusetts." 
 
 " What harm had he done ? " inquired Charley. 
 
 " The king had appointed him to be distributor of 
 the stamps," answered Grandfather. " Mr. Oliver 
 would have made a great deal of money by this busi 
 ness. But the people frightened him so much by 
 hanging him in effigy, and afterwards by breaking 
 into his house, that he promised to have nothing to 
 do with the stamps. And all the king s friends 
 throughout America were compelled to make the 
 same promise." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 " LIEUTENANT Governor Hntehinson," continued 
 Grandfather, " now began to be unquiet in our old 
 chair. He had formerly been much respected and 
 beloved by the people, and had often proved himself 
 a friend to their interests. But the time was come 
 when he could not be a friend to the people without 
 ceasing to be a friend to the king. It was pretty 
 generally understood that Hutchinson would act ac 
 cording to the king s wishes, right or wrong, like 
 most of the other gentlemen who held offices under 
 the crown. Besides, as he was brother-in-law of 
 Andrew Oliver, the people now felt a particular dis 
 like to him." 
 
 u I should think," said Laurence, " as Mr. Ilutchin- 
 soii had written the history of our Puritan forefath 
 ers, he would have known what the temper of the peo 
 ple was, and so have taken care not to wrong them." 
 
 " He trusted in the might of the King of England," 
 replied Grandfather, " and thought himself safe under 
 the shelter of the throne. If no dispute Had arisen 
 between the king and the people, Hutchinson would 
 have had the character of a wise, good, and patriotic 
 magistrate. But, from the time that he took part 
 against the rights of his country, the people s love and 
 respect were turned to scorn and hatred, and he never 
 had another hour of peace." 
 
 In order to show what a fierce and dangerous 
 
160 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 spirit was now aroused among the inhabitants, Grand 
 father related a passage from history which we shall 
 call 
 
 TJIE IIUTCHINSON MOB. 
 
 On the evening of the twenty-sixth of August, 
 1765, a bonfire was kindled in King street. It 
 flamed high upward, and threw a ruddy light over 
 the front of the town house, on which was xlisplayed 
 a carved representation of the royal arms. The gilded 
 varie of the cupola glittered in the blaze. The kind 
 ling of this bonfire was the well known signal for the 
 populace of Boston to assemble in the street. 
 
 Before the tar-barrels, of which the bonfire was 
 made, were half burned out, a great crowd had come 
 together. They were chiefly laborers and seafaring 
 men, together with many young apprentices, and all 
 those idle people about town who are ready for any 
 kind of mischief. Doubtless some school-boys were 
 among them. 
 
 While these rough figures stood round the blazing 
 bonfire, you might hear them speaking bitter words 
 against the high officers of the province. Governor 
 Bernard, Hutchinson, Oliver, Storey, Hallo well, and 
 other men whom King George delighted to honor, 
 were reviled as traitors to the country. Now and 
 then, perhaps, an officer of the crown passed along 
 the street, wearing the gold-laced hat, white wig, and 
 embroidered waistcoat which were the fashion of the 
 day. But when the people beheld him they set up a 
 wild and angry howl ; and their faces had an evil as 
 pect, which was made more terrible by the flickering 
 blaze of . the bonfire. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 161 
 
 " I should like to throw the traitor right into that 
 blaze ! " perhaps one fierce rioter would say. 
 
 " Yes ; and all his brethren too ! " another might 
 reply ; " and the governor and old Tommy Hutchin- 
 eon into the hottest of it ! " 
 
 " And the Earl of Bute along with them ! " mut 
 tered a third ; " and burn the whole pack of them 
 under King George s nose ! Xo matter if it singed 
 him ! " 
 
 Some such expressions as these, either shouted 
 aloud or muttered under the breath, were doubtless 
 heard in King street. The rnob, meanwhile, were 
 growing fiercer and fiercer, and seemed ready even to 
 set the town on fire for the sake of burning the king s 
 friends out of house and home. And yet, angry as 
 they were, they sometimes broke into a loud roar of 
 laughter, as if mischief and destruction were their 
 sport. 
 
 But we must now leave the rioters for a time, and 
 take a peep into the lieutenant governor s splendid 
 mansion. It was a large brick house, decorated with 
 Ionic pilasters, and stood in Garden Court street, near 
 the North Square. 
 
 "While the angry mob in King street were shouting 
 his name, Lieutenant Governor Ilutchinson sat quietly 
 in Grandfather s chair, unsuspicious of the^evil that 
 was about to fall upon his head. His beloved family 
 were in the room with him. He had thrown off his 
 embroidered coat and powdered wig, and had on a 
 loose flowing gown and purple velvet cap. He had 
 likewise laid aside the cares of state and all the 
 thoughts that had wearied and perplexed him through 
 out the day. 
 11 
 
162 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Perhaps, in the enjoyment of his home, he had 
 forgotten all about the Stamp Act, and scarcely re 
 membered that there was a king, across the ocean, 
 who had resolved to make tributaries of the New 
 Englanders. Possibly, too, he had forgotten his 
 own ambition, and would not have exchanged his 
 situation, at that moment, to be governor, or even a 
 lord. 
 
 The wax candles were now lighted, and showed a 
 handsome room, well provided with rich furniture. 
 On the walls hung the pictures of Ilutchinson s ances 
 tors, who had been eminent men in their day, and were 
 honorably remembered in the history of the country. 
 Every object served to mark the residence of a rich, 
 aristocratic gentleman, who held himself high above 
 the common people, and could have nothing to fear 
 from them. In a corner of the room, thrown careless 
 ly upon a chair, were the scarlet robes of the chief 
 justice. This high office, as well as those of lieuten 
 ant governor, counsellor, and judge of probate, was 
 filled by Ilutchinson. 
 
 "Who or what could disturb the domestic quiet of 
 such a great and powerful personage as now sat in 
 Grandfather s chair. 
 
 The lieutenant governor s favorite daughter sat by 
 his side. She leaned on the arm of our great chair, 
 *nd looked up affectionately into her father s face, re- 
 ,oicing to perceive that a quiet smile was on his lips. 
 But suddenly a shade came across her countenance. 
 She seemed to listen attentively, as if to catch a dis 
 tant sound. 
 
 " What is the matter, my child ?" inquired Hutch 
 inson. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 163 
 
 " Father, do not you hear a tumult in the streets ? " 
 said she. 
 
 The lieutenant governor listened. But his ears were 
 duller than those of his daughter ; he could hear noth 
 ing more terrible than the sound of a summer breeze, 
 sighing among the tops of the elm-trees. 
 
 " No, foolish child ! " he replied, playfully patting 
 her cheek. " There is no tumult. Our Boston mobs 
 are satisfied with what mischief they have already 
 done. The king s friends need not tremble." 
 
 So Hutchinson resumed his pleasant and peaceful 
 meditations, and again forgot that there were any 
 troubles in the world. But his family were alarmed, 
 and could not help straining their ears to catch tho 
 slightest sound. More and more distinctly they heard 
 shouts, and then the trampling of many feet. While 
 they were listening, one of the neighbors rushed 
 breathless into the room. 
 
 " A mob ! a terrible mob ! " cried he. " They have 
 broken into Mr. Storey s house, and into Mr. Hallo- 
 well s, and have made themselves drunk with the liq 
 uors in his cellar ; and now they are coming hither, as 
 wild as so many tigers. Flee, lieutenant governor, 
 for your life ? " 
 
 " Father, dear father, make haste ! " shrieked his 
 children. 
 
 But Ilutchinson would not hearken to them. He 
 was an old lawyer; and he could not realize that the 
 people would do anything so utterly lawless as to as 
 sault him in his peaceful home. lie was one of King 
 George s chief officers ; and it would be an insult and 
 outrage upon the king himself if the lieutenant gov 
 ernor should suffer any wrong. 
 
164 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 " Have no fears on my account," said he; "I am pei% 
 fectly safe. The king s name shall be my protection. 1 
 
 Yet he bade his family retire into one of the neigh 
 boring houses. His daughter would have remained, 
 but he forced her away. 
 
 The huzzas and riotous uproar of the mob were now 
 heard, close at hand. The sound was terrible, and 
 struck Hutchinson with the same sort of dread as if 
 an enraged wild beast had broken loose and were roar 
 ing for its prey. He crept softly to the window. 
 There he beheld an immense concourse of people, fill 
 ing all the street and rolling onward to his house. 
 It was like a tempestuous flood, that had swelled be 
 yond its bounds and would sweep everything before it. 
 Hutchinson trembled ; he felt, at that moment, that 
 the wrath of the people was a thousand-fold more ter 
 rible than the wrath of a king. 
 
 That w r as a moment when a loyalist and an aristo 
 crat like Hutchinson might have learned how power 
 less are kings, nobles, and great men, w T hen the low 
 and humble range themselves against them. King 
 George could do nothing for his servant now. Had 
 King George been there he could have done nothing 
 for himself. If Hutchinson had understood this les 
 son, and remembered it, he need not, in after years, 
 have been an exile from his native country, nor finally 
 have laid his bones in a distant land. 
 
 There was now a rush against the doors of the 
 house. The people sent up a discordant cry. At 
 this instant the lieutenant governor s daughter, whom 
 he had supposed to be in a place of safety, ran into 
 the room and threw her arms around him. She had 
 returned by a private entrance. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 165 
 
 " Father, are you mad ? " cried she. " Will the 
 king s name protect you now ? Come with me, or 
 they will have your life." 
 
 " True," muttered Hutchinson to himself ; " what 
 care these roarers for the name of king ? I must flee, 
 or they will trample me down on the door of my own 
 dwelling!" 
 
 Hurrying away, he and his daughter made their es 
 cape by the private passage at the moment when the 
 rioters broke into the house. The foremost of them 
 rushed up the stair-case, and entered the room which 
 Hutchinson had just quitted. There they beheld our 
 good old chair facing them with quiet dignity, while 
 the lion s head seemed to move its jaws in the unsteady 
 light of their torches. Perhaps the stately aspect of 
 our venerable friend, which had stood firm through a 
 century and a half of trouble, arrested them for an 
 instant. But they were thrust forward by those be 
 hind, and the chair lay overthrown. 
 
 Then began the work of destruction. The carved 
 and polished mahogany tables were shattered with 
 heavy clubs and hewn to splinters with axes. The 
 marble hearths and mantel pieces were broken. The 
 volumes of Hutchin son s library, so precious to a stu 
 dious man, were torn out of their covers, and the 
 leaves sent flying out of the windows. -Manuscripts, 
 containing secrets of our country s history, which are 
 now lost forever, were scattered to the winds. 
 
 The old ancestral portraits, whose fixed countenances 
 looked down on the wild scene, were rent from the 
 walls. The mob triumphed in their downfall and de 
 struction, as if these pictures of Hutchinson s fore 
 fathers had committed the same offences as their de- 
 
160 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 scendant. A tall looking-glass, which, had hitherto 
 presented a reflection of the enraged and drunken 
 multitude, was now smashed into a thousand frag 
 ments. We gladly dismiss the scene from the mirror 
 of our fancy. 
 
 Before morning dawned the walls of the house were 
 all that remained. The interior was a dismal scene 
 of ruin. A shower pattered in at the broken windows ; 
 and when Hutchinson and his family returned, they 
 stood shivering in the same room where the last even 
 ing had seen them so peaceful and happy. 
 
 "Grandfather," said Laurence, indignantly, " if the 
 people acted in this manner, they were not worthy of 
 even so much liberty as the king of England was 
 willing to allow them." 
 
 " It was a most unjustifiable act, like many other 
 popular movements at that time," replied Grandfather. 
 " But we must not decide against the justice of the 
 people s cause merely because an excited mob was 
 guilty of outrageous violence. Besides, all these 
 things were done in the first fury of resentment. Af 
 terwards the people grew more cairn, and were more 
 influenced by the counsel of those wise and good men 
 who conducted them safely and gloriously through 
 the Revolution." 
 
 Little Alice, with tears in her blue eyes, said that 
 she hoped the neighbors had not let Lieutenant Gov 
 ernor Hutchinson and his family be homeless in the 
 street, but had taken them into their houses and been 
 kind to them, Cousin Clara, recollecting the perilous 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 167 
 
 situation of our beloved chair, inquired what had be 
 come of it. 
 
 " Nothing was heard of our chair for some time af 
 terwards," answered Grandfather. " One day in Sep 
 tember, the same Andrew Oliver, of whom I before 
 told you, was summoned to appear at high noon under 
 Liberty Tree. This was the strangest summons that 
 had ever been heard of ; for it was issued in the name 
 of the whole people, who thus took upon themselves 
 the authority of a sovereign power. Mr. Oliver dared 
 not disobey. Accordingly, at the appointed hour he 
 went, much against his will, to Liberty Tree." 
 
 Here Charley interposed a remark that poor Mr. 
 Oliver found but little liberty under Liberty Tree. 
 Grandfather assented. 
 
 " It was a stormy day," continued he. " The equi 
 noctial gale blew violently, and scattered the yellow 
 leaves of Liberty Tree all along the street. Mr. Oli 
 ver s wig was dripping with water-drops; and he 
 probably looked haggard, disconsolate, and humbled 
 to the earth. Beneath the tree, in Grandfather s 
 chair, our own venerable chair, sat Mr. Richard 
 Dana, a justice of the peace, lie administered an 
 oath to Mr. Oliver that he would never have anything 
 to do with distributing the stamps. A vast concourse 
 of people heard the oath, and shouted when it was 
 taken." 
 
 " There is something grand in this," said Laurence. 
 " I like it, because the people seem to have acted with 
 though tf ulness and dignity ; and this proud gentleman, 
 one of his Majesty s high officers, was made to feel 
 that King George could not protect him in doing 
 wrong." 
 
168 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 " But it was a sad day for poor Mr. Oliver," ob 
 served Grandfather. " From his youth upward it had 
 probably been the great principle of his life to be 
 faithful and obedient to the king. And now, in his 
 old age, it must have puzzled and distracted him to 
 find the sovereign people setting up a claim to his 
 faith and obedience." 
 
 Grandfather closed the evening s conversation by 
 saying that the discontent of America was so great, 
 that, in 1766, the British Parliament was compelled 
 to repeal the Stamp Act. The people made great 
 rejoicings, but took care to keep Liberty Tree well 
 pruned and free from caterpillars and canker w r orms. 
 They foresaw that there might yet be occasion for 
 them to assemble under its far projecting shadow. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE next evening, Clara, who remembered that our 
 chair had been left standing in the rain under Liberty 
 Tree, earnestly besought Grandfather to tell when and 
 where it had next found shelter. Perhaps she was 
 afraid that the venerable chair, by being exposed to 
 the inclemency of a September gale, might get the 
 rheumatism in its aged joints. 
 
 " The chair," said Grandfather, " after the ceremony 
 of Mr. Oliver s oath, appears to have been quite for 
 gotten by the multitude. Indeed, being much bruised 
 and rather rickety, owing to the violent treatment it 
 had suffered from the Hutchinson mob, most people 
 would have thought that its days of usefulness were 
 over. Nevertheless, it was conveyed away under 
 cover of the night and committed to the care of a 
 skilful joiner. lie doctored our old friend so success 
 fully, that, in the course of a few days, it made its 
 appearance in the public room of the British Coffee 
 House, in King street." 
 
 " But why did not Mr. Hutchinson get possession 
 of it again ? " iquired Charley. 
 
 " I know not," answered Grandfather, " unless he 
 considered it a dishonor and disgrace to the chair to 
 have stood under Liberty Tree. At all events, he 
 suffered it to remain at the British Coffee House, 
 which was the prinqipal hotel in Boston. It could 
 not possibly have found a situation where it would be 
 
170 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 more in the midst of business and bustle, or would 
 witness more important events, or be occupied by a 
 greater variety of persons." 
 
 Grandfather went on to tell the proceedings of the 
 despotic king and ministry of England after the repeal 
 of the Stamp Act. They could not bear to think that 
 their right to tax America should be disputed by the 
 people. In the year 1767, therefore, they caused Par 
 liament to pass an act for laying a duty on tea and 
 some other articles that were in general use. Nobody 
 could now buy a pound of tea without paying a tax 
 to King George. This scheme was pretty craftily 
 contrived ; for the women of America were very fond 
 of tea, and did not like to give up the use of it. 
 
 But the people were as much opposed to this new 
 act of Parliament as they had been to the Stamp Act. 
 England, however, was determined that they should 
 submit. In order to compel their obedience, two reg 
 iments, consisting of more than seven hundred British 
 soldiers, w r ere sent to Boston. They arrived in Sep 
 tember, 17G8, and were landed on Long wharf. 
 Thence they marched to the Common with loaded 
 muskets, fixed bayonets, and great pomp and parade. 
 So now, at last, the free town of Boston was guarded 
 and overawed by red-coats as it had been in the days 
 of old Sir Edmund Andros. 
 
 In the month of November more regiments arrived. 
 There were now four thousand troops in Boston. The 
 Common was whitened with their tents. Some of 
 the soldiers were lodged in Faneuil Hall, which the 
 inhabitants looked upon as a consecrated place, be 
 cause it had been the scene of a great many meetings 
 in favor of liberty. One regiment was placed in the 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 171 
 
 Town House, which we now call the Old State House. 
 The lower floor of this edifice had hitherto been used 
 by the merchants as an exchange. In the uppei 
 stories were the chambers of the judges, the repre 
 sentatives, and the governor s council. The venerable 
 counsellors could not assemble to consult about the 
 welfare of the province without being challenged by 
 sentinels and passing among the bayonets of the 
 British soldiers. 
 
 Sentinels, likewise, were posted at the lodgings of 
 the officers in many parts of the town. "When the 
 inhabitants approached they were greeted by the sharp 
 question "Who goes there?" while the rattle of 
 the soldier s musket was heard as he presented it 
 against their breasts. There was no quiet even on 
 the Sabbath day. The pious descendants of the 
 Puritans were shocked by the uproar of military 
 music ; the drum, the fife, and bugle drowning the 
 holy organ peal and the voices of the singers. It 
 would appear as if the British took every method to 
 insult the feelings of the people. 
 
 " Grandfather," cried Charley, impatiently, " the 
 people did not go to fighting half soon enough ! These 
 British red-coats ought to have been driven back to 
 their vessels the very moment they landed on Long 
 wharf." 
 
 " Many a hot-headed young man said the same as 
 you do, Charley," answered Grandfather. " But the 
 elder and wiser people saw that the time was not yet 
 come. Meanwhile, let us take another peep at our 
 old chair." 
 
 " Ah, it drooped its head* I know," said Charley, 
 4 < when it saw how the province was disgraced. Its 
 
172 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 old puritan friends never would have borne such do 
 ings." 
 
 " The chair," proceeded Grandfather, " was now 
 continually occupied by some of the high tories, as 
 the king s friends were called, who frequented the 
 British Coffee House. Officers of the custom house, 
 too, which stood on the opposite side of King Street, 
 often sat in the chair wagging their tongues against 
 John Hancock." 
 
 " Why against him ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " Because he was a great merchant and contended 
 against paying duties to the king," said Grand 
 father. 
 
 "Well, frequently, no doubt, the officers of the 
 British regiments, when not on duty, used to fling 
 themselves into the arms of our venerable chair. 
 Fancy one of them, a red nosed captain in his scarlet 
 uniform, playing with the hilt of his sword, and mak 
 ing a circle of his brother officers merry with ridicu 
 lous jokes at the expense of the poor Yankees. And 
 perhaps he would call for a bottle of wine, or a steam 
 ing bowl of punch, and drink confusion to all rebels." 
 
 " Our grave old chair must have been scandalized 
 at such scenes," observed Laurence ; " the chair that 
 had been the Lady Arbella s, and which the holy 
 Apostle Eliot had consecrated." 
 
 " It certainly was little less than sacrilege," replied 
 Grandfather ; " but the time was coming when even 
 the churches, where hallowed pastors had long 
 preached the word of God, were to be torn down or 
 desecrated l?y the British troops. Some years passed, 
 however, before such things were done." 
 
 Grandfather told las auditors that, in 1769, Sir 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 173 
 
 Franeis Bernard went to England after having been 
 governor of Massachusetts ten years. lie was a gentle 
 man of many good qualities, an exellent scholar, and 
 a friend to learning. But he was naturally of an ar- 
 bitrary disposition ; and he had been bred at the Uni 
 versity of Oxford, where young men were taught that 
 the divine right of kings was the only thing to be re 
 garded in matters of government. Such ideas were 
 ill adapted to please the people of Massachusetts. 
 They rejoiced to get rid of Sir Francis Bernard, but 
 liked his successor, Lieutenant Governor Ilutchinson, 
 no better than himself. 
 
 About this period the people were much incensed at 
 an act committed by a person who held an office in 
 the custom house. Some lads, or young men were 
 snow-balling his windows. He fired a musket at them, 
 and killed a poor German boy, only eleven years old. 
 This event made a great noise in town and country, 
 and much increased the resentment that was already 
 felt against the servants of the crown. 
 
 "Now, children," said Grandfather, "I wish to 
 make you comprehend the position of the British 
 troops in King street. This is the same which we 
 now call State street. On the south side of the town 
 house, or Old State House, was what military men 
 call a court of guard, defended by two brass cannons, 
 which pointed directly at one of the doors of the above 
 edifice. A large party of soldiers were always sta 
 tioned in the court of guard. The custom house 
 stood at a little distance down King street, nearly 
 where the Suffolk bank now stands, and a sentinel 
 was continually pacing before its front." 
 
 "I shall remember this to-morrow," said Charley; 
 
174 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 " and I will go to State street, so as to see exactly 
 where the British troops were stationed." 
 
 " And before long," observed Grandfather, " I shall 
 have to relate an event which made King street sadly 
 famous on both sides of the Atlantic. The history of 
 our chair will soon bring us to this melancholy busi 
 ness." 
 
 Here Grandfather described the state of things 
 which arose from the ill will that existed between the 
 inhabitants and the red-coats. The old and sober part 
 of the townspeople were very angry at the government 
 for sending soldiers to overawe them. But those gray- 
 headed men were cautious, and kept their thoughts 
 and feelings in their own breasts, without putting 
 themselves in the way of the British bayonets. 
 
 The younger people, however, could hardly be kept 
 within such prudent limits. They reddened with wrath 
 at the very sight of a soldier, and would have been 
 willing to come to blows with them at any moment. 
 For it was their opinion that every tap of a British 
 drum within the peninsula of Boston was an insult to 
 the brave old town. 
 
 "It was sometimes the case," continued Grand 
 father, " that affrays happened between such wild 
 young men as these and small parties of the soldiers. 
 No weapons had hitherto been used except fists or 
 cudgels. But when men have loaded muskets in their 
 hands, it is easy to foretell that they will soon be 
 turned against the bosoms of those who provoke their 
 anger." 
 
 " Grandfather," said little Alice, looking fearfully 
 into his face, " your voice sounds as though you were 
 going to tell us something awful ! " 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 LITTLE ALICE, by her last remark, proved herself a 
 good judge of what was expressed by the tones of 
 Grandfather s voice. He had given the above descrip 
 tion of the enmity between the town s people and the 
 soldiers in order to prepare the minds of his auditors 
 for a very terrible event. It was one that did more 
 to heighten the quarrel between England and Amer 
 ica than anything that had yet occurred. 
 
 Without further preface, Grandfather began the 
 story of 
 
 THE BOSTON MASSACEE. 
 
 It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset 
 music of the British regiments was heard as usual 
 throughout the town. The shrill fife and rattling drum 
 awoke the echoes in King street, while the last ray of 
 sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the town 
 house. And now all the sentinels were posted. One 
 of them marched up and down before the .Custom 
 House, treading a short path through the snow, and 
 longing for the time when he would be dismissed to 
 the warm fire-side of the guard room. Meanwhile 
 Captain Preston was, perhaps, sitting in our great 
 chair before the hearth of the British Coffee House. 
 In the course of the evening there were two or three 
 slight commotions, which seemed to indicate that 
 trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men 
 
176 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 stood at the corners of the streets or walked along the 
 narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers who were dis 
 missed from duty passed by them, shoulder to shoul 
 der, with the regular step which they had learned at 
 the drill. Whenever these encounters took place, it 
 appeared to be the object of the young men to treat 
 the soldiers with as much incivility as possible. 
 
 " Turn out, you lobster-backs ! " one would say. 
 
 " Crowd them off the sidewalks ! " another would cry. 
 " A red-coat has no right in Boston streets ! " 
 
 " O, you rebel rascals ! " perhaps the soldiers would 
 reply, glaring fiercely at the young men. " Some day 
 or other we ll make our way through Boston streets 
 at the point of the bayonet ! " 
 
 Once or twice such disputes as these brought on a 
 scuffle ; which passed off, however, without attracting 
 much notice. About eight o clock, for some unknown 
 cause, an alarm-bell rang loudly and hurriedly. 
 
 At the sound many people ran out of their houses, 
 supposing it to be an alarm of fire. But there were 
 no flames to be seen, nor was there any smell of smoke 
 in the clear, frosty air ; so that most of the townsmen 
 went back to their own fire-sides and sat talking with 
 their wives and children about the calamities of the 
 times. Others who were younger and less prudent re 
 mained in the streets ; for there seems to have been a 
 presentiment that some strange event was on the eve 
 of taking place. 
 
 Later in the evening, not far from nine o clock, sev 
 eral young men passed by the Town House and walked 
 down King street. The sentinel was still on his post 
 in front of the custom house, pacing to and fro,* 
 while, as he turned, a gleam of light from some neigh- 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 177 
 
 boring window glittered on the barrel of his musket. 
 At no great distance were the barracks and the guard 
 house, where his comrades were probably telling stories 
 of battle and bloodshed. 
 
 Down towards the custom house, as I told you, 
 came a party of wild young men. When they drew 
 near the sentinel he halted on his post, and took his 
 musket from his shoulder, ready to present the bayo 
 net at their breasts. 
 
 " Who goes there ? " he cried, in the gruff, peremp 
 tory tones of a soldier s challenge. 
 
 The young men, being Boston boys, felt as if they 
 had a right to walk their own streets without being 
 accountable to a British red-coat, even though he 
 challenged them in King George s name. They 
 made some rude answer to the sentinel. There was 
 a dispute, or perhaps a scuffle. Other soldiers heard 
 the noise, and ran hastily from the barracks to assist 
 their comrades. At the same time many of the 
 town s people rushed into King street by various ave 
 nues, and gathered in a crowd round about the custom 
 house. It seemed wonderful how such a multitude 
 had started up all of a sudden. 
 
 The wrongs and insults which the people had been 
 suffering for many months now kindled them into a 
 rage. They threw snow-balls and lumps of ice at the 
 soldiers. As the tumult grew louder it reached the 
 ears of Captain Preston, the officer of the day. He 
 immediately ordered eight soldiers of the main guard 
 to take their muskets and follow him. They marched 
 across the street, forcing their way roughly through 
 the crowd, and pricking the town s people with their 
 bayonets. 
 
 13 
 
ITS GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterwards gen< 
 eral of the American artillery) caught Captain Pres 
 ton s arm. 
 
 " For Heaven s sake, sir," exclaimed he, " take heed 
 what you do, or there will be bloodshed." 
 
 " Stand aside ! " answered Captain Preston, haugh 
 tily. " Do not interfere, sir. Leave me to manage 
 the affair." 
 
 Arriving at the sentinel s post, Captain Preston 
 drew up his men in a semicircle, with their faces to 
 the crowd and their rear to the custom house. When 
 the people saw the officer and beheld the threatening 
 attitude with which the soldiers fronted them, their 
 rage became* almost uncontrollable. 
 
 " Fire, you lobster-backs ! " bellowed some. 
 
 " You dare not fire, you cowardly red-coats ! " cried 
 others. 
 
 " Rush upon them ! " shouted many voices. " Drive 
 the rascals to their barracks! Down with them! 
 Down with them ! Let them fire if they dare ! " 
 
 Amid the uproar, the soldiers stood glaring at the 
 people with the fierceness of men whose trade was to 
 shed blood. 
 
 Oh, what a crisis had now arrived ! Up to this 
 very moment, the angry feelings between England and 
 America might have been pacified. England had but 
 to stretch out the hand of reconciliation, and ac 
 knowledge that she had hitherto mistaken her rights, 
 but would do so no more. Then the ancient bonds 
 of brotherhood would again have been knit together 
 as firmly as in old times. The habit of loyalty, which 
 had grown as strong as instinct, was not utterly over 
 come. The perils shared, the victories won, in tho 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 179 
 
 Old French War, when the soldiers of the colonies 
 fought side by side with their comrades from beyond 
 the sea, were unf orgotten yet. England was still that 
 beloved country which the colonists called their 
 home. King George, though he had frowned upon 
 America, was still reverenced as a father. 
 
 But should the king s soldiers shed one drop of 
 American blood, then it was a quarrel to the death. 
 Never never would America rest satisfied until she 
 had torn down the royal authority and trampled it in 
 the dust. 
 
 " Fire, if you dare, villains ! " hoarsely shouted the 
 people, while the muzzles of the muskets were turned 
 upon them, " you dare not fire ! " 
 
 They appeared ready to rush upon the levelled 
 bayonets. Captain Preston waved his sword, and ut 
 tered a command which could not be distinctly heard 
 amid the uproar of shouts that issued from a hundred 
 throats. But his soldiers deemed that he had spoken 
 the fatal mandate " fire ! " The flash of their mus 
 kets lighted up the streets, and the report rang loudly 
 between the edifices. It was said, too, that the figure 
 of a man, with a cloth hanging down over his face, 
 was seen to step into the balcony of the custom house 
 and discharge a musket at the crowd. 
 
 A gush of smoke had overspread the scene. It 
 rose heavily, as if it were loath to reveal the dreadful 
 spectacle beneath it. Eleven of the sons of New 
 England lay stretched upon the street. Some, sorely 
 wounded, were struggling to rise again. Others 
 stirred not nor groaned ; for they were past all pain. 
 Blood was streaming upon the snow ; and that purple 
 stain in the midst of King street, though it melted 
 
180 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 away in the next day s sun, was never forgotten noi 
 forgiven by the people. 
 
 Grandfather was interrupted by the violent sobs of 
 little Alice. In his earnestness he had neglected tc 
 soften down the narrative so that it might not terrify 
 the heart of this unworldly infant. Since Grand 
 father began the history of our chair, little Alice had 
 listened to many tales of war. But probably the idea 
 had never really impressed itself upon her mind that 
 men have shed the blood of their fellow-creatures. 
 And now that this idea was forcibly presented to her, 
 it affected the sweet child with bewilderment and 
 horror. 
 
 "I ought to have remembered our dear little 
 Alice," said Grandfather reproachfully to himself. 
 " Oh, what a pity ! Her heavenly nature has now 
 received its first impression of earthly sin and vio 
 lence. Well, Clara, take her to her bed and comfort 
 her. Heaven grant that she may dream away the 
 recollection of the Boston Massacre ! " 
 
 " Grandfather," said Charley, when Clara and little 
 Alice had retired, " did not the people rush upon the 
 soldiers and take revenge ? " 
 
 " The town drums beat to arms," replied Grand 
 father, " the alarm bells rang, and an immense multi 
 tude rushed into King street. Many of them had 
 weapons in their hands. The British prepared to de 
 fend themselves. A whole regiment was drawn up 
 in the street, expecting an attack ; for the townsmen 
 appeared ready to throw themselves upon the bayo 
 nets." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 181 
 
 "And how did it end ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " Governor Hutchinson hurried to the spot," said 
 Grandfather, " and besought the people to have pa 
 tience, promising that strict justice should be done. 
 A day or two afterward the British troops were with 
 drawn from town and stationed at Castle William. 
 Captain Preston and the eight soldiers were tried for 
 murder. But none of them were found guilty. The 
 judges told the jury that the insults and violence 
 which had been offered to the soldiers justified them 
 in firing at the mob." 
 
 " The Revolution," observed Laurence, who had 
 said but little during the evening, " was not such a 
 calm, majestic movement as I supposed. I do not 
 love to hear of mobs and broils in the street. These 
 things were unworthy of the people when they had 
 such a great object to accomplish." 
 
 " Nevertheless, the world has seen no grander move 
 ment than that of our Revolution from first to last," 
 said Grandfather. " The people, to a man, were full 
 of a great and noble sentiment. True, there may be 
 much fault to find with their mode of expressing this 
 sentiment ; but they knew no better the necessity 
 was upon them to act out their feelings in the best 
 manner they could. We must forgive what was 
 wrong in their actions, and look into their hearts and 
 minds for the honorable motives that impelled them." 
 
 " And I suppose," said Laurence, " there were men 
 who knew how to act worthily of what they felt." 
 
 "There were many such," replied Grandfather, 
 " and we will speak of some of them hereafter." 
 
 Grandfather here made a pause. That night, Char 
 ley had a dream about the Boston massacre, and 
 
182 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 thought that he himself was in the crowd and struck 
 down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence 
 dreamed that he was sitting in our great chair, at the 
 window of the British Coffee House, and beheld the 
 whole scene which Grandfather had described. It 
 seemed to him, in his dream, that, if the town s peo 
 pie and the soldiers would but have heard him speak 
 a single word, all the slaughter might have been 
 averted. But there was such an uproar that it 
 drowned his voice. 
 
 The next morning the two boys went together to 
 State street and stood on the very spot where the first 
 blood of the Revolution had been shed. The Old 
 State House was still there, presenting almost the 
 same aspect that it had worn on that memorable even 
 ing, one and seventy years ago. It is the sole remain 
 ing witness of the Boston Massacre. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE next evening the astral lamp was Kghted earlier 
 than usual, because Laurence was very much engaged 
 in looking over the collection of portraits which had 
 been his New Year s gift from Grandfather. 
 
 Among them he found the features of more than 
 one famous personage who had been connected with 
 the adventures of our old chair. Grandfather bade 
 him draw the table nearer to the fire-side ; and they 
 looked over the portraits together, while Clara and 
 Charley likewise lent their attention. As for little 
 Alice, she sat in Grandfather s lap, and seemed to see 
 the very men alive whose faces were there represented. 
 
 Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the 
 portrait of a stern, grim-looking man, in plain attire, 
 of much more modern fashion than that of the old 
 Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one 
 of those iron-hearted men. Beneath the portrait was 
 the name of Samuel Adams. 
 
 " He was a man of great note in all the doings that 
 brought about the Revolution," said" Grandfather. 
 " His character was such, that it seemed as if one of 
 the ancient Puritans had been sent back to earth to 
 animate the people s hearts with the same abhorrence 
 of tyranny that had distinguished the earliest settlers. 
 He was as religious as they, as stern and inflexible, 
 and as deeply imbued with democratic principles. 
 He, better than any one else, may be taken as a rep- 
 
184 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 resentative of the people of New England, and of the 
 spirit with which they engaged in the Revolutionary 
 struggle. He was a poor man, and earned his bread 
 by an humble occupation ; but with his tongue and 
 pen he made the king of England tremble on his 
 throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the 
 strong men of our country." 
 
 " Here is one whose looks show a very different 
 character," observed Laurence, turning to the portrait 
 of John Hancock. " I should think, by his splendid 
 dress and courtly aspect, that he was one of the king s 
 friends." 
 
 " There never was a greater contrast than between 
 Samuel Adams and John Hancock," said Grandfather. 
 " Yet they were of the same side in politics, and had 
 an equal agency in the Revolution. Hancock was 
 born to the inheritance of the largest fortune in New 
 England. His tastes and habits were aristocratic. 
 He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion, mag 
 nificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was 
 glittering and pompous in external things. His man 
 ners were so polished that there stood not a nobleman 
 at the footstool of King George s throne who was a 
 more skilful courtier than John Hancock might have 
 been. Nevertheless, he in his embroidered clothes, 
 and Samuel Adams in his thread-bare coat, wrought 
 together in the cause of liberty. Adams acted from 
 pure and rigid principle. Hancock, though he loved 
 his country, yet thought quite as much of his own 
 popularity as he did of the people s rights. It is re 
 markable that these two men, so very different as I 
 describe them, were the only two exempted from 
 pardon by the king s proclamation." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 185 
 
 On the next leaf of the book was the portrait of 
 General Joseph Warren. Charley recognized the 
 name, and said that here was a greater man than 
 either Hancock or Adams. 
 
 " Warren was an eloquent and able patriot," replied 
 Grandfather. "He deserves a lasting memory for 
 his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty. No man s 
 voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph 
 Warren s. If his death had not happened so early in 
 the contest, he would probably have gained a high 
 name as a soldier." 
 
 The next portrait was a venerable man, who held 
 his thumb under his chin, and, through his spec 
 tacles, appeared to be attentively reading a manu 
 script. 
 
 " Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that 
 ever lived," said Grandfather. "This is Benjamin 
 Franklin ! But I will not try to compress into a few 
 sentences the character of the sage, who, as a French 
 man expressed it, snatched the lightning from the sky, 
 and the sceptre from a tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help 
 you to the knowledge of Franklin." 
 
 The book likewise contained portraits of James 
 Otis and Josiah Quincy. Both of them, Grandfather 
 observed, were men of wonderful talents and true 
 patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones 
 of a trumpet arousing the country to defend its free 
 dom. Heaven seemed to have provided a greater 
 number of eloquent men than had appeared at any 
 other period, in order that the people might be fully 
 instructed as to their wrongs and the method of re 
 sistance. 
 
 "It is marvellous," said Grandfather, " to see how 
 
186 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 many powerful writers, orators, and soldiers started 
 up just at the time when they were wanted. There 
 was a man for every kind of work. It is equally 
 wonderful that men of such different characters were 
 all made to unite in the one object of establishing the 
 freedom and independence of America. There was 
 an overruling Providence above them." 
 
 " Here was another great man, "remarked Laurence, 
 pointing to the portrait of John Adams. 
 
 " Yes ; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest, and 
 most able man," said Grandfather. " At the period 
 of which we are now speaking he was a lawyer in 
 Boston. lie was destined in after years to be ruler 
 over the whole American people, whom he contributed 
 so much to form into a nation." 
 
 Gandfather here remarked that many a New-Eng- 
 lander, who had passed his boyhood and youth in 
 obscurity, afterward attained to a fortune which 
 he never could have foreseen even in his most am 
 bitious "dreams. John Adams, the second President 
 of the United States and the equal of crowned kings, 
 was once a schoolmaster and country lawyer. Han 
 cock, the first signer of the Declaration of Independ 
 ence, served his apprenticeship with a merchant. 
 Samuel Adams, afterwards governor of Massachu 
 setts, was a small tradesman and a tax-gatherer. 
 General Warren was a physician, General Lincoln a 
 farmer, and General Knox a Bookbinder. General 
 Nathaniel Greene, the best soldier, except Washing 
 ton, in the Revolutionary army, was a Quaker and a 
 blacksmith. All these became illustrious men, and 
 can never be forgotten in American history. 
 
 " And any boy who is born in America may look 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 187 
 
 forward to the same things," said our ambitious friend 
 Charley. 
 
 After these observations, Grandfather drew the 
 book of portraits towards him and showed the chil 
 dren several British peers and members of Parlia 
 ment who had exerted themselves either for or 
 against the rights of America. There were the Earl 
 of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North. These 
 were looked upon as deadly enemies to our country. 
 
 Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, after 
 ward Earl of Chatham, who spent so much of his 
 wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England 
 of the consequences of her injustice. He fell down 
 on the floor of the House of Lords after uttering al 
 most his dying words in defence of our privileges 
 as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the 
 wisest men and greatest orators that ever the world 
 produced. There was Colonel Barre, who had been 
 among our fathers, and knew that they had courage 
 enough to die for their rights. There was Charles 
 James Fox, who never rested until he had silenced 
 our enemies in the House of Commons. 
 
 " It is very remarkable to observe how many of 
 the ablest orators in the British Parliament were 
 favorable to America," said Grandfather. " We 
 ought to remember these great Englishmen with 
 gratitude ; for their speeches encouraged our fathers 
 almost as much as those of our own orators in Eaneuil 
 Hall and under Liberty Tree. Opinions which might 
 have been received with doubt, if expressed only by 
 a native American, were set down as true, beyond 
 dispute, when they came from the lips of Chatham, 
 Burke, Barre or Fox." 
 
188 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 " But, Grandfather," asked Laurence, " were there 
 no able and eloquent men in this country who took 
 the part of King George ? " 
 
 " There were many men of talent who said what 
 they could in defence of the king s tyrannical pro 
 ceedings," replied Grandfather. " But they had the 
 worst side of the argument, and therefore seldom said 
 anything worth remembering. Moreover, their hearts 
 were faint and feeble ; for they felt that the people 
 scorned and detested them. They had no friends, no 
 defence, except in the bayonets of the British troops. 
 A blight fell upon all their faculties, because they were 
 contending against the rights of their own native land." 
 
 " What were the names of some of them ? " in 
 quired Charley. 
 
 " Governor Hutchinson, Chief Justice Oliver, 
 Judge Auchmuty, the Rev. Mather Byles, and sev 
 eral other clergymen, were among the most noted 
 loyalists," answered Grandfather. 
 
 " I wish the people had tarred and feathered every 
 man of them ! " cried Charley. 
 
 " That wish is very wrong, Charley," said Grand 
 father. " You must not think that there was no in 
 tegrity and honor except among those who stood up 
 for the freedom of America. For aught I know, 
 there was quite as much of these qualities on one side 
 as on the other. Do you see nothing admirable in a 
 faithful adherence to an unpopular cause ? Can you 
 not respect that principle of loyalty which made the 
 royalists give up country, friends, fortune, everything, 
 rather than be false to their king ? It was a mistaken 
 principle ; but many of them cherished it honorably, 
 and were martyrs to it." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 189 
 
 "Oh, I was wrong!" said Charley, ingenuously. 
 " And I would risk my life rather than one of those 
 good old royalists should be tarred and feathered." 
 
 " The time is now come when we may judge fairly 
 of them," continued Grandfather. " Be the good 
 and true men among them honored ; for they were as 
 much our countrymen as the patriots were. And, 
 thank Heaven ! our country need not be ashamed of 
 her sons, of most of them at least, whatever side 
 they took in the revolutionary contest." 
 
 Among the portraits was one of King George the 
 Third. Little Alice clapped her hands, and seemed 
 pleased with the bluff good nature of his physiog 
 nomy. But Laurence thought it strange that a man 
 with such a face, indicating hardly a common share 
 of intellect, should have had influence enough on 
 human affairs to convulse the world with war. 
 Grandfather observed that this poor king had always 
 appeared to him one of the most unfortunate persons 
 that ever lived. He was so honest and conscientious, 
 that, if he had been only a private man, his life 
 would probably have been blameless and happy. 
 But his was that worst of fortunes, to be placed in a 
 station far beyond his abilities. 
 
 " And so," said Grandfather, " his life, while he 
 retained what intellect Heaven had" gifted him with, 
 was one long mortification. At last he grew crazed 
 with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years, the 
 monarch of England was confined as a madman. In 
 his old age, too, God took away his eye-sight ; so that 
 his royal palace was nothing to him but a dark, lone 
 some prison-house." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " OTJR old chair," resumed Grandfather, " did riot 
 now stand in tlie midst of a gay circle of British 
 officers. The troops, as I told yon, had been removed 
 to Castle William immediately after the Boston mas 
 sacre. Still, however, there were many tories, cus 
 tom-house officers, and Englishmen who used to 
 assemble in the British Coffee House and talk over 
 the affairs of the period. Matters grew worse and 
 worse ; and in 1773 the people did a deed which in 
 censed the king and ministry more than any of their 
 former doings." 
 
 Grandfather here described the affair, which is 
 known by the name of the Boston Tea Party. The 
 Americans, for some time past, had left off import 
 ing tea, on account of the oppressive tax. The East 
 India Company, in London, had a large stock of tea 
 on hand, which they had expected to sell to the 
 Americans, but could find no market for it. But, 
 after a while, the government persuaded this com 
 pany of merchants to send the tea to America. 
 
 " How odd it is," obser /ed Clara, " that the lib 
 erties of America should have had anything to do 
 with a cup of tea ! " 
 
 Grandfather smiled, and proceeded with his nar 
 rative. When the people of Boston heard that sev 
 eral cargoes of tea were coming across the Atlantic, 
 they held a great many meetings at Faneuil Hall, in 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 191 
 
 the Old South church, and under Liberty Tree. In 
 the midst of their debates, three ships arrived in the 
 harbor with the tea on board. The people spent 
 more than a fortnight in consulting what should be 
 done. At last, on the 16th of December, 1773, they 
 demanded of Governor Hutchinson that he should 
 immediately send the ships back to England. 
 
 The governor replied that the ships must not leave 
 the harbor until the custom house duties upon the tea 
 should be paid. Now, the payment of these duties 
 was the very thing against which the people had set 
 their faces ; because it was a tax unjustly imposed 
 upon America by the English government. There 
 fore, in the dusk of the evening, as soon as Governor 
 Hutchinson s reply was received, an immense crowd 
 hastened to Griffin s wharf, where the tea ships lay. 
 The place is now called Liverpool wharf. 
 
 " When the crowd reached the wharf," said Grand 
 father, " they saw that a set of wild-looking figures 
 were already on board of the ships. You would have 
 imagined that the Indian warriors of old times had 
 come back again ; for they wore the Indian dress, and 
 iiad their faces covered with red and black paint, like 
 the Indians when they go to war. These grim fig- 
 ures hoisted the tea chests on the decks of the vessels, 
 broke them open, and threw all the contents into the 
 harbor." 
 
 "Grandfather," said little Alice, " I suppose Indians 
 don t love tea ; else they would never waste it so." 
 
 " They were not real Indians, my child," answered 
 Grandfather. " They were white men in disguise; 
 because a heavy punishment would have been in 
 flicted on them if the king s officers had found who 
 
192 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 they were. But it was never known. From that 
 day to this, though the matter has been talked of by 
 all the world, nobody can tell the names of those In 
 dian figures. Some people say that there were very 
 famous men among them, who afterward became, 
 governors and generals. Whether this be true I can 
 not tell." 
 
 When tidings of this bold deed were carried to 
 England, King George was greatly enraged. Parlia 
 ment immediately passed an act, by which all vessels 
 were forbidden to take in or discharge their cargoes 
 at the port of Boston. In this way they expected to 
 ruin all the merchants, and starve the poor people, by 
 depriving them of employment. At the same time 
 another act was passed, taking away many rights and 
 privileges which had been granted in the charter of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Governor Hutchinson, soon afterward, was sum 
 moned to England, in order that he might give his 
 advice about the management of American affairs. 
 General Gage, an officer of the Old French War, 
 and since commander- in-chief of the British forces in 
 America, was appointed governor in his stead. One 
 of his first acts was to make Salem, instead of Boston, 
 the metropolis of Massachusetts, by summoning the 
 General Court to meet there. 
 
 According to Grandfather s description, this was 
 the most gloomy time that Massachusetts had ever 
 seen. The people groaned under as heavy a tyranny 
 as in the days of Sir Edmund Andros. Boston looked 
 as if it were afflicted with some dreadful pestilence, 
 so sad were the inhabitants, and so desolate the 
 streets. There was no cheerful hum of business. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 193 
 
 The merchants shut up their warehouses, and the la 
 boring men stood idle about the wharves. But all 
 America felt interested in the good town of Boston ; 
 and* contributions were raised, in many places, for the 
 .relief of the poor inhabitants. 
 
 " Our dear old chair ! " exclaimed Clara. " How 
 dismal it must have been now ! " 
 
 " Oh," replied Grandfather, " a gay throng of offi 
 cers had now come back to the British Coffee House ; 
 so that the old chair had no lack of mirthful com 
 pany. -Soon after General Gage became governor a 
 great many troops had arrived, and were encamped 
 upon the Common. Boston was now a garrisoned 
 and fortified town ; for the general had built a bat 
 tery across the neck, on the road to Roxbury, and 
 placed guards for its defence. Everything looked as 
 if a civil war were close at hand." 
 
 " Did the people make ready to fight ? " asked Char 
 ley. 
 
 "A continental Congress assembled at Philadel 
 phia," said Grandfather, " and proposed such meas 
 ures as they thought most conducive to the public 
 good. A provincial Congress was likewise chosen in 
 Massachusetts. They exhorted the people to arm and 
 discipline themselves. A great number of minute 
 men were enrolled. The Americans called them min 
 ute men, because they engaged to be ready to fight at 
 a minute s warning. The English officers laughed, 
 and said that the name was a very proper one, be 
 cause the minute men would run away the minute 
 they saw the enemy. Whether they would fight or 
 run was soon to be proved." 
 
 Grandfather told the children that the first open 
 13 
 
194 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 resistance offered to the British troops, in the province 
 of Massachusetts, was at Salem. Colonel Timothy 
 Pickering, with thirty or forty militia men, prevented 
 the English colonel, Leslie, with four times as many 
 regular soldiers, from taking possession of some mili 
 tary stores. No Wood was shed on this occasion ; bin 
 soon afterward it began to flow. 
 
 General Gage sent eight hundred soldiers to Con 
 cord, about eighteen miles from Boston, to destroy 
 some ammunition and provisions which the colonists 
 had collected there. They set out on their march on 
 the evening of the 18th of April, 1YY5. The next 
 morning, the general sent Lord Percy with nine hun 
 dred men to strengthen the troops that had gone be 
 fore. All that day the inhabitants of Boston heard 
 various rumors. Some said that the British were mak 
 ing great slaughter among our countrymen. Others 
 affirmed that every man had turned out with his mus 
 ket, and not a single British soldier would ever get 
 back to Boston. 
 
 " It was after sunset," continued Grandfather," when 
 the troops, who had marched forth so proudly, were 
 seen entering Charlestown. They were covered with 
 dust, and so hot and weary that their tongues hung 
 out of their mouths. Many of them were faint with 
 wounds. They had not all returned. Nearly three 
 hundred were strewn, dead or dying, along the road 
 from Concord. The yeomanry had risen upon the 
 invaders and driven them back." 
 
 " Was this the battle of Lexington ? " asked Char 
 ley. 
 
 " Yes," replied Grandfather ; " it was so called, be 
 cause the British, without provocation, had fired upon 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 195 
 
 a party of minute men, near Lexington meeting-house, 
 and killed eight of them. That fatal volley, which 
 was fired by order of Major Pitcairn, began the war 
 of the Revolution." 
 
 About this time, if Grandfather had been correctly 
 informed, our chair disappeared from the British 
 Coffee House. The manner of its departure cannot 
 be satisfactorily ascertained. Perhaps the keeper of 
 the Coffee House turned it out of doors on account of 
 its old-fashioned aspect. Perhaps he sold it as a cu 
 riosity. Perhaps it was taken, without leave, by some 
 person who regarded it as public property because it 
 had once figured under Liberty Tree. Or, perhaps, 
 the old chair, being of a peaceable disposition, had 
 made use of its four oaken legs and run away from 
 the seat of war. 
 
 " It would have made a terrible clattering over the 
 pavement," said Charley, laughing. 
 
 " Meanwhile," continued Grandfather, " during the 
 mysterious non-appearance of our chair, an army of 
 twenty thousand men had started up and come to the 
 siege of Boston. General Gage and his troops were 
 cooped up within the narrow precincts of the penin 
 sula. On the 17th of June, 1775, the famous battle 
 of Bunker Hill was fought. Here General Warren 
 fell. The British got the victory, indeed, but with 
 the loss of more than a thousand officers and men." 
 
 " Oh, Grandfather," cried Charley, " you must tell 
 us about that famous battle." 
 
 " No, Charley," said Grandfather, " I am not like 
 other historians. Battles shall not hold a prominent 
 place in the history of our quiet and comfortable old 
 chair. But to-morrow evening, Laurence, Clara, and 
 
196 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 yourself, and dear little Alice too, shall visit the die* 
 rama of Bunker Hill. There you shall seethe whole 
 business, the burning of Charlestown and all, with 
 your own eyes, and hear the cannon and musketry 
 with your own ears." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE next evening but one, when the children had 
 given Grandfather a full account of the diorama of 
 Bunker Hill, they entreated him not to keep them 
 any longer in suspense about the fate of his chair. 
 The reader will recollect that, at the last accounts, it 
 had trotted away upon its poor old legs nobody 
 knew whither. But, before gratifying their curiosity, 
 Grandfather found it necessary to say something 
 about public events. 
 
 The continental Congress, which was assembled at 
 Philadelphia, was composed of delegates from all the 
 colonies. They had now appointed GEORGE WASH 
 INGTON, of Virginia, to be Commander-in-chief of all 
 the American armies. He was, at that time, a mem 
 ber of Congress ; but immediately left Philadelphia, 
 and began his journey to Massachusetts. On the 3d 
 of July, 1775, he arrived at Cambridge, and took 
 command of the troops which were besieging General 
 Gage. 
 
 " Oh ! Grandfather," exclaimed ^Laurence, " it 
 makes my heart throb to think what is coming now. 
 We are to see General Washington himself." 
 
 The children crowded around Grandfather and 
 looked earnestly into his face. Even little Alice 
 opened her sweet blue eyes, with her lips apart, and 
 almost held her breath to listen ; so instinctive is the 
 reverence of childhood for the father of his country, 
 
108 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 Grandfather paused a moment ; for lie felt as if ii 
 might be irreverent to introduce the hallowed shade 
 of Washington into a history where an ancient elbow 
 chair occupied the most prominent place. However, 
 he determined to proceed with his narrative, and 
 speak of the hero when it was needful, but with an 
 unambitious simplicity. 
 
 So Grandfather told his auditors, that, on General 
 Washington s arrival at Cambridge, his first care was 
 to reconnoitre the British troops with his spy-glass, 
 and to examine the condition of his own army. He 
 found that the American troops amounted to about 
 fourteen thousand men. They were extended all 
 round the peninsula of Boston, a space of twelve 
 miles, from the high grounds of Roxbury on the 
 right to Mystic River on the left. Some were living 
 in tents of sail-cloth, some in shanties rudely con 
 structed of boards, some in huts of stone or turf with 
 curious windows and doors of basket-work. 
 
 In order to be near the centre and oversee the 
 whole of this wide-stretched army, the commander-in 
 chief made his headquarters at Cambridge, about half 
 a mile from the colleges. A mansion-house, which 
 perhaps had been the country-seat of some tory gen 
 tleman, was provided for his residence. 
 
 " When General Washington first entered this man 
 sion," said Grandfather, " he was ushered up the 
 stair-case and shown into a handsome apartment. He 
 sat down in a large chair, which was the most con 
 spicuous object in the room. The noble figure of 
 Washington would have done honor to a throne. As 
 he sat there, with his hand resting on the hilt of his 
 sheathed sword : which was placed between his knees, 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 his whole aspect well befitted the chosen man on 
 whom his country leaned for the defence of her dear 
 est rights. America seemed safe under his protec 
 tion. His face was grander than any sculptor had 
 ever wrought in marble; none could behold him with 
 out awe and reverence. Kever before had the lion s 
 head at the summit of the chair looked down upon 
 such a face and form as Washington s." 
 
 " Why ! Grandfather ! " cried Clara, clasping her 
 hands in amazement, " was it really so ? Did Gen 
 eral Washington sit in our great chair ? " 
 
 " I knew how it would be," said Laurence ; " I fore 
 saw it the moment Grandfather began to speak." 
 
 Grandfather smiled. But, turning from the per 
 sonal and domestic life of the illustrious leader, he 
 spoke of the methods which Washington adopted to 
 win back the metropolis of 2sew England from the 
 British. 
 
 The army, when he took command of it, was with 
 out any discipline or order. The privates considered 
 themselves as good as their officers ; and seldom 
 thought it necessary to obey their commands, unless 
 they understood the why and wherefore. Moreover, 
 they were enlisted for so short a period, that, as soon 
 as they began to be respectable soldiers, it was time 
 to discharge them. Then came new recruits, who 
 had to be taught their duty before they could be of 
 any service. Such was the army with which Wash 
 ington had to contend against more than twenty 
 veteran British regiments. 
 
 Some of the men had no muskets, and almost all 
 were without bayonets. Heavy cannon, for battering 
 the British fortifications, were much wanted. There 
 
200 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 was but a small quantity of powder and ball, few tools 
 to build intrencliments with, and a great deficiency 
 of provisions and clothes for the soldiers. Yet, in 
 spite of these perplexing difficulties, the eyes of the 
 whole people were fixed on General Washington, 
 expecting him to undertake some great enterprise 
 against the hostile army. 
 
 The first thing that he found necessary was to bring 
 his own men into better order and discipline. It is 
 wonderful how soon he transformed this rough mob 
 of country people into the semblance of a regular 
 army. One of Washington s most invaluable charac 
 teristics was the faculty of bringing order out of con* 
 fusion. All business with which he had any concern 
 seemed to regulate itself as if by magic. The influ 
 ence of his mind was like light gleaming through an 
 unshaped world. It was this faculty, more than any 
 other, that made him so fit to ride upon the storm of 
 the Revolution when everything was unfixed and 
 drifting about in a troubled sea. 
 
 " Washington had not been long at the head of the 
 army," proceeded Grandfather, " before his soldiers 
 thought as highly of him as if he had led them to a 
 hundred victories. They knew that he was the very 
 man whom the country needed, and the only one who 
 could bring them safely through the great contest 
 against the might of England. They put entire con 
 fidence in his courage, wisdom, and integrity." 
 
 " And were they not eager to follow him against 
 the British ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " Doubtless they would have gone whithersoever 
 his sword pointed the way," answered Grandfather ; 
 f and Washington was anxious to make a decisive 
 
GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 201 
 
 assault upon the enemy. But as the enterprise was 
 very hazardous, he called a council of all the generals 
 in the army. Accordingly they came from their dif 
 ferent posts, and were ushered into the reception-room. 
 The commander-in-chief arose from our great chair 
 to greet them." 
 
 " What were their names ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " There was General Artemas Ward," replied 
 Grandfather, " a lawyer by profession. He had com 
 manded the troops before Washington s arrival. An- 
 nother was General Charles Lee, who had been a 
 colonel in the English army, and was thought to pos 
 sess vast military science. He came to the council, 
 followed by two or three dogs which were always at 
 his heels. There was General Putnam too, who was 
 known all over j^ew England by the name of Old Put." 
 
 Was it he who killed the wolf ? " inquired Char- 
 ley. 
 
 " The same," said Grandfather ; " and he had done 
 good service in the old French War. liis occupation 
 was that of a farmer ; but he left his plough in the 
 furrow at the news of Lexington battle. Then there 
 was General Gates, who afterward gained great re 
 nown at Saratoga, and lost it again at Camden. Gen 
 eral Greene, of Rhode Island, was likewise at the 
 council. Washington soon discovered him to be one 
 of the best officers in the army." 
 
 When the generals were all assembled, Washington 
 consulted them about a plan for storming the English 
 batteries. But it was their unanimous opinion that 
 so perilous an enterprise ought not to be attempted. 
 The army, therefore, continued to besiege Boston, 
 preventing the enemy from obtaining supplies of pro- 
 
202 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 visions, but without taking any immediate measures 
 to get possession of the town. In this manner the 
 summer, autumn, and winter passed away. 
 
 "Many a night, doubtless," said Grandfather, 
 " after Washington had been all day on horseback, 
 galloping from one post of the army to another, he 
 used to sit in our great chair, wrapt in earnest 
 thought. Had you seen him, you might have sup 
 posed that his whole mind was fixed on the blue 
 china tiles which adorned the old fashioned fireplace. 
 But, in reality, he was meditating how to capture the 
 British army, or drive it out of Boston. Once, when 
 there was a hard frost, he formed a scheme to cross 
 the Charles River on the ice. But the other generals 
 could not be persuaded that there was any prospect 
 of success." 
 
 " What were the British doing all this time ? " in 
 quired Charley. 
 
 " They lay idle in the town," replied Grandfather. 
 " General Gage had been recalled to England, and 
 was succeeded by Sir William Howe. The British 
 army and the inhabitants of Boston were now in great 
 distress. Being shut up in the town so long, they had 
 consumed almost all their provisions and burned up 
 all their fuel. The soldiers tore down the Old ^orth 
 church, and used its rotten boards and timbers for 
 firewood. To heighten their distress, the smallpox 
 broke out. They probably lost far more men by cold r 
 hunger, and sickness than had been slain at Lexington 
 and Bunker Hill." 
 
 " What a dismal time for the poor women and chil 
 dren ! " exclaimed Clara. 
 
 " At length," continued Grandfather, " in March r 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 203 
 
 1776, General Washington, who had now a good 
 supply of powder, began a terrible cannonade and 
 bombardment from Dorchester heights. One of the 
 cannon-balls which he fired into the town struck the 
 tower of the Brattle Street church, where it may 
 still be seen. Sir William Howe made preparations 
 to cross over in boats and drive the Americans from 
 their batteries, but was prevented by a violent gale 
 and storm. General Washington next erected a bat 
 tery on Nook s hill, so near the enemy that it was im 
 possible for them to remain in Boston any longer." 
 
 " Hurra ! Hurra ! " cried Charley, clapping his 
 hands triumphantly. " I wish I had been there to see 
 how sheepish the Englishmen looked." 
 
 And, as Grandfather thought that Boston had never 
 witnessed a more interesting period than this, when 
 the royal power was in its death agony, he determined 
 to take a peep into the town and imagine the feelings 
 of those who were quitting it forever. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 a ALAS ! for the poor tories ! " said Grandfather. 
 " Until the very last morning after Washington s 
 troops had shown themselves on Nook s hill, these 
 unfortunate persons could not believe that the auda 
 cious rebels, as they called the Americans, would ever 
 prevail against King George s army. But when they 
 saw the British soldiers preparing to embark on board 
 of the ships of war, then they knew that they had lost 
 their country. Could the patriots have known how 
 bitter were their regrets, they would have forgiven 
 them all their evil deeds, and sent a blessing after 
 them as they sailed away from their native shore." 
 
 In order to make the children sensible of the piti 
 able condition of these men, Grandfather singled out 
 Peter Oliver, chief justice of Massachusetts under the 
 crown, and imagined him walking through the streets 
 of Boston on the morning before he left it forever. 
 
 This effort of Grandfather s fancy may be called^- 
 
 THE TORY S FAREWELL. 
 
 Old Chief Justice Oliver threw on his red cloak, 
 and placed his three-cornered hat on the top of his 
 white wig. In this garb he intended to go forth and 
 take a parting look at objects that had been familiar 
 to him from his youth. Accordingly, he began his 
 walk in the north part of the town, and soon came to 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 205 
 
 Fanenil Hall. This edifko, the cradle of liberty, had 
 been used by the British officers as a play-house. 
 
 " Would that I could see its walls crumble to dust ! " 
 thought the chief justice ; and, in the bitterness of his 
 heart, he shook his fist at the famous hall. " There 
 began the mischief which now threatens to rend asun 
 der the British empire ! The seditious harangues of 
 demagogues in Faneuil Hall have made rebels of a 
 loyal people and deprived me of my country. " 
 
 He then passed through a narrow avenue and found 
 himself in King Street, almost on the very spot which, 
 six years before, had been reddened by the blood of 
 the Boston Massacre. The chief justice stept cau 
 tiously, and shuddered, as if he were afraid that, even 
 now, the gore of his slaughtered countrymen might 
 stain his feet. 
 
 Before him rose the town house, on the front of 
 which were still displayed the royal arms. Within 
 that edifice he had dispensed justice to the people in 
 the days when his name was never mentioned without 
 honor. There, too, was the balcony whence the trum 
 pet had been sounded and the proclamation read to 
 an assembled multitude, whenever a new king of Eng 
 land ascended the throne. 
 
 "I remember I remember," said Chief Justice 
 Oliver to himself, " when his present-most sacred maj 
 esty was proclaimed. Then how the people shouted ! 
 Each man would have poured out his life-blood to keep 
 a hair of King George s head from harm. But now 
 there is scarcely a tongue in all New England that 
 does not imprecate curses on his name. It is ruin and 
 disgrace to love him. Can it be possible that a few 
 fleeting years have wrought such a change ! " 
 
206 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 It did not occur to the chief justice that nothing but 
 the most grievous tyranny could so soon have changed 
 the people s hearts. Hurrying from the spot, he 
 entered Cornhill, as the lower part of Washington 
 Street was then called. Opposite to the Town House 
 was the waste foundation of the Old North church 
 The sacrilegious hands of the British soldiers had torn 
 it down, and kindled their barrack fires with the frag 
 ments. 
 
 Farther on he passed beneath the tower of the Old 
 South. The threshold of this sacred edifice was worn 
 by the iron tramp of horses feet; for the interior 
 had been used as a riding-school and rendezvous, for 
 a regiment of dragoons. As the chief justice lin 
 gered an instant at the door a trumpet sounded 
 within, and the regiment came clattering forth and 
 galloped down the street. They were proceeding to 
 the place of embarkation. 
 
 " Let them go ! " thought the chief justice, with 
 somewhat of an old puritan feeling in his breast. 
 " No good can come of men who desecrate the house 
 of God." 
 
 He went on a few steps farther, and paused before 
 the Province House. No range of brick stores had 
 then sprung up to hide the mansion of the royal gov 
 ernors from public view. It had a spacious court 
 yard, bordered with trees, and enclosed with a wrought 
 iron fence. On the cupola that surmounted the edi 
 fice was the gilded figure of an Indian chief, ready to 
 let fly an arrow from his bow. Over the wide front 
 door was a balcony, in which the chief justice had 
 often stood when the governor and high officers of 
 the province showed themselves to the people. 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 207 
 
 While Chief Justice Oliver gazed sadly at the Prov 
 ince House, before which a sentinel was pacing, the 
 double leaves of the door were thrown open, and Sir 
 William Howe made his appearance. Behind him 
 came a throng of officers, whose steel scabbards clat 
 tered against the stones as they hastened down the 
 court-yard. Sir William Howe was a dark-complex 
 ioned man, stern and haughty in his deportment. 
 He stepped as proudly, in that hour of defeat, as if 
 he were going to receive the submission of the rebel _j 
 general. 
 
 The chief justice bowed and accosted him. 
 
 " This is a grievous hour for both of us, Sir Wil 
 liam," said he. 
 
 6i Forward ! gentlemen," said Sir William Howe to 
 the officers who attended him : " we have no time to 
 hear lamentations now ! " 
 
 And, coldly bowing, he departed. Thus the chief 
 justice had a foretaste of the mortifications which the 
 exiled New Englanders afterwards suffered from the 
 haughty Britons. They were despised even by that 
 country which they had served more faithfully than 
 their own. 
 
 A still heavier trial awaited Chief Justice Oliver, 
 as he passed onward from the Province House. He 
 was recognized by the people in tire street. They 
 had long known him as the descendant of an ancient 
 and honorable family. They had seen him sitting in 
 his scarlet robes upon the judgment seat. All his 
 life long, either for the sake of his ancestors or on 
 account of his own dignified station and unspotted 
 character, he had been held in high respect. The old 
 gentry of the province were looked upon almost as 
 
208 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 noblemen while Massachusetts was under royal gov- 
 eminent. 
 
 But now, all hereditary reverence for birth and rank 
 was gone. The inhabitants shouted in derision when 
 they saw the venerable form of the old chief justice. 
 They laid the wrongs of the country and their own 
 sufferings during the siege their hunger, cold, and 
 sickness partly to his charge and to that of his 
 brother Andrew and his kinsman Ilutchinson. It 
 was by their advice that the king had acted in all 
 the colonial troubles. But the day of recompense 
 was come. 
 
 " See the old tory ! " cried the people, with bitter 
 laughter. " He is taking his last look at us. Let 
 him show his white wig among us an hour hence, and 
 we ll give- him a coat of tar and feathers ! " 
 
 The chief justice, however, knew that he need fear 
 no violence so long as the British troops were in pos 
 session of the town. But, alas ! it was a bitter thought 
 that he should leave no loving memory behind him. 
 His forefathers, long after their spirits left the earth, 
 had been honored in the affectionate remembrance of 
 the people. But he, who would henceforth be dead 
 to his native land, would have no epitaph save scorn 
 ful and vindictive words. The old man wept. 
 
 " They curse me they invoke all kinds of evil on 
 my head ! " thought he, in the midst of his tears. 
 " But, if they could read my heart, they would know 
 that I love Kew England well. Heaven bless her, 
 and bring her again under the rule of our gracious 
 king ! A blessing, too, on these poor, misguided 
 people ! " 
 
 The chief justice flung out his hands with a ges 
 
GRANDFATHERS CUAIR. 209 
 
 ture, as if he were bestowing a parting benediction on 
 his countrymen. He had now reached the southern 
 portion of the town, and was far within the range of 
 cannon shot from the American batteries. Close be 
 side him was the broad stump of a tree, which ap- 
 poared to have been recently cut down. Being 
 weary and heavy at heart, he was about to sit down 
 upon the stump. 
 
 Suddenly it flashed upon his recollection that this 
 was the stump of Liberty Tree ! The British soldiers 
 had cut it down, vainly boasting that they could as 
 easily overthrow the liberties of America. Under its 
 shadowy branches, ten years before, the brother of 
 Chief Justice Oliver had been compelled to acknowl 
 edge the supremacy of the people by taking the oath 
 which they prescribed. This tree was connected with 
 all the events that had severed America from Eng 
 land. 
 
 " Accursed tree ! " cried the chief justice, gnashing 
 his teeth : for anger overcame his sorrow. " Would 
 that thou hadst been left standing till Hancock, 
 Adams, and every other traitor, were hanged upon 
 thy branches ! Then fitly mightest thou have been 
 hewn down and cast into the flames." 
 
 lie turned back, hurried to Long wharf without 
 looking behind him, embarked with ., the British 
 troops for Halifax, and never saw his country more. 
 Throughout the remainder of his days Chief Justice 
 Oliver was agitated with those same conflicting emo 
 tions that had tortured him while taking his farewell { 
 walk through the streets of Boston. Deep love and 
 fierce resentment burned in one flame within his breast. 
 Anathemas struggled with benedictions. He felt as 
 14 
 
210 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 if one breath of his native air would renew his life, 
 yet would have died rather than breathe the same air 
 with rebels. And such likewise were the feelings of 
 the other exiles, a thousand in number, who departed 
 with the British army. Were they not the most un- 
 fortunate of men ? 
 
 " The misfortunes of those exiled tories," observed 
 Laurence, " must have made them think of the poor 
 exiles of Acadia." 
 
 " They had a sad time of it, I suppose," said Char 
 ley. " But I choose to rejoice with the patriots, 
 rather than be sorrowful with the tories. Grand 
 father, what did General Washington do now ? " 
 
 " As the rear of the British army embarked from 
 the wharf," replied Grandfather, " General Washing 
 ton s troops marched over the neck, through the forti 
 fication gates, and entered Boston in triumph. And 
 now, for the first time since the pilgrims landed, Massa 
 chusetts was free from the dominion of England. 
 May she never again be subjected to foreign rule, 
 never again feel the rod of oppression ! " 
 
 " Dear Grandfather," asked little Alice, " did Gen 
 eral Washington bring our chair back to Boston ? " 
 
 " I know not how long the chair remained at Cam 
 bridge," said Grandfather. " Had it stayed there till 
 this time, it could not have found a better or more 
 appropriate shelter. The mansion which General 
 Washington occupied is still standing; and his apart 
 ments have since been tenanted by several eminent 
 men. Governor Everett* while a professor in the uni 
 versity, resided there. So at an after period did Mr. 
 Sparks, whose invaluable labors have connected his 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 211 
 
 name with the immortality of Washington. And at 
 this very time a venerable friend and contemporary 
 of your Grandfather, after long pilgrimages beyond 
 the sea, has set up his staff of rest at Washington s 
 head -quarters." 
 
 "You mean Professor Longfellow, Grandfather," 
 said Laurence. " Oh, how I should love to see the 
 author of those beautiful VOICES OF THE NIGHT ! " 
 
 " We will visit him next summer," answered Grand 
 father, " and take Clara and little Alice with us, and 
 Charley, too, if he will be quiet." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHEN Grandfather resumed his narrative the next 
 evening, lie told the children that he had some diffi 
 culty in tracing the movements of the chair during a 
 short period after General Washington s departure 
 from Cambridge. 
 
 Within a few. months, however, it made its appear 
 ance at a shop in Boston, before the door of which 
 was seen a striped pole. In the interior was displayed 
 a stuffed alligator, a rattlesnake s skin, a bundle of In 
 dian arrows, an old-fashioned matchlock gun, a walk 
 ing-stick of Governor Winthrop s, a wig of old Cotton 
 Mather s, and a colored print of the Boston massacre. 
 In short, it was a barber s shop, kept by a Mr. Pierce, 
 who prided himself on having shaved General Wash 
 ington, Old Put, and many other famous persons. 
 
 "This was not a very dignified situation for our 
 venerable chair," continued Grandfather ; " but, you 
 know, there is no better place for news than a barber s 
 shop. All the events of the Revolutionary War were 
 heard of there sooner than anywhere else. People 
 used to sit in the chair, reading the newspaper, or 
 talking, and waiting to be shaved, while Mr. Pierce, 
 with his scissors and razor, was at work upon the 
 heads or chins of his other customers." 
 
 " I am sorry the chair could not betake itself to 
 some more suitable place of refuge," said Laurence. 
 "It was old now, and must have longed for quiet 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 213 
 
 Besides, after it had held Washington in its arms, it 
 ought not to have been compelled to receive all the 
 world. It should have been put into the pulpit of 
 the Old South church, or some other consecrated 
 ^lace." 
 
 " Perhaps so," answered Grandfather. " But the 
 hair, in the course of its varied existence, had grown 
 so accustomed to general intercourse with society, that 
 I doubt whether it would have contented itself in the 
 pulpit of the Old South. There it would have stood 
 solitary, or with no livelier companion than the silent 
 organ, in the opposite gallery, six days out of seven. 
 I incline to think that it had seldom been situated 
 more to its mind than on the sanded floor of the snug 
 little barber s shop." 
 
 Then Grandfather amused his children and him 
 self with fancying all the different sorts of people who 
 had occupied our chair while they awaited the leisure 
 of the barber. 
 
 There was the old clergyman, such as Dr. Chaun- 
 cey, wearing a white wig, which the barber took from 
 his head and placed upon a wig-block. Half an hour, 
 perhaps, was spent in combing and powdering this 
 reverend appendage to a clerical skull. There, too, 
 were officers of the continental army, who required 
 their hair to be pomatumed and "plastered, so as to 
 give them a bold and martial aspect. There, once 
 in a while, was seen the thin, care-worn, melancholy 
 visage of an old tory, with a wig that, in times long 
 past, had perhaps figured at a Province House ball. 
 And there, not unfrequently, sat the rough captain 
 of a privateer, just returned from a successful cruise, 
 in which he had captured half a dozen richly ladeo 
 
214 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 vessels belonging to King George s subjects. 
 sometimes a rosy little school-boy climbed into oui 
 chair, and sat staring, with wide-open eyes, at the al 
 ligator, the rattlesnake, and the other curiosities of 
 the barber s shop. His mother had sent him, with 
 sixpence in his hand, to get his glossy curls cropped 
 off. The incidents of the Revolution plentifully sup 
 plied the barber s customers with topics of conver 
 sation. They talked sorrowfully of the death of Gen 
 eral Montgomery and the failure of our troops to take 
 Quebec; for the New Englanders were now as anx 
 ious to get Canada from the English as they had for 
 merly been to conquer it from the French. 
 
 " But, very soon," said Grandfather, " came news 
 from Philadelphia, the most important that America 
 had ever heard of. On the 4th of July, 1776, Con 
 gress had signed the Declaration of Independence. 
 The thirteen colonies were now free and independent 
 states. Dark as our prospects were, the inhabitants 
 welcomed these glorious tidings, and resolved to per 
 ish rather than again bear the yoke of England ! " 
 
 "And I would perish, too!" cried Charley. 
 
 " It was a great day, a glorious deed ! " said Lau 
 rence, coloring high with enthusiasm. "And, Grand 
 father, I love to think that the sages in Congress 
 showed themselves as bold and true as the soldiers in 
 the field; for it must have required more courage to 
 sign the Declaration of Independence than to fight the 
 enemy in battle." 
 
 Grandfather acquiesced in Laurence s view of the 
 matter. He then touched briefly and hastily upon 
 the prominent events of the Revolution. The thun 
 der-storm of war had now rolled southward, and did 
 
GRANDFATHER S VII AIR. 215 
 
 not again burst upon Massachusetts, where its first 
 fury had been felt. But she contributed her full 
 share to the success of the contest. Wherever a bat 
 tle was fought, whether at Long Island, White 
 Plains, Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, or German- 
 town, some of her brave sons were found slain upon 
 the field. 
 
 In October, 1777, General Burgoyne surrendered 
 his army, at Saratoga, to the American general, Gates. 
 The captured troops were sent to Massachusetts. Not 
 long afterwards, Dr. Franklin and other American 
 commissioners made a treaty at Paris, by which France 
 bound herself to assist our countrymen. The gallant 
 Lafayette was already fighting for our freedom by the 
 side of Washington. In 1778 a French fleet, com 
 manded by Count d Estaing, spent a considerable time 
 in Boston harbor. It marks the vicissitudes of human 
 affairs, that the French, our ancient enemies, should 
 come hither as comrades and brethren, and that kin 
 dred England should be our foe. 
 
 " While the war was raging in the middle and south 
 ern States," proceeded Grandfather, " Massachusetts 
 had leisure to settle a new constitution of government 
 instead of the royal charter. This was done in 1780. 
 In the same year John Hancock, who had been presi 
 dent of Congress, was chosen governor of the state. 
 He was the first whom the people had elected since 
 the days of old Simon Bradstreet." 
 
 " But, Grandfather, who had been governor since 
 the British were driven away ? " inquired Laurence. 
 " General Gage and Sir William Howe were the last 
 whom you have told us of." 
 
 "There had been no governor for the last four 
 
216 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 years," replied Grandfather. "Massachusetts had 
 been ruled by the legislature, to whom the people paid 
 obedience of their own accord. It is one of the most 
 remarkable circumstances in our history, that, when 
 the charter goverment was overthrown by the war, no 
 , anarchy nor the slighest confusion ensued. This was 
 a great honor to the people. But, now, Hancock was 
 proclaimed governor by sound of trumpet ; and there 
 was again a settled government." 
 
 Grandfather again adverted to the progress of the 
 war. In 1781 General Greene drove the British from 
 the southern states. In October of the same year Gen 
 eral "Washington compelled Lord Cornwallis to sur 
 render his army, at Yorktown, in Virginia. This was 
 the last great event of the revolutionary contest. 
 King George and his ministers perceived that all the 
 might of England could not compel America to renew 
 her allegiance to the crown. After a great deal of dis 
 cussion, a treaty of peace was signed in September, 
 1T83. 
 
 " Now, at last," said Grandfather, " after weary 
 years of war, the regiments of Massachusetts returned 
 in peace to their families. Now the stately and dig 
 nified leaders, such as General Lincoln and General 
 Knox, with their powdered hair and their uniforms of 
 blue and buff, were seen moving about the streets." 
 
 " And little boys ran after them, I suppose," re 
 marked Charley ; " and the grown people bowed re 
 spectfully." 
 
 " They deserved respect, for they were good men 
 as well as brave," answered Grandfather. " Now, too, 
 the inferior officers and privates came home to seek 
 gome peaceful occupation. Their friends remembered 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 217 
 
 them as slender and smooth-cheeked young men ; but 
 they returned with the erect and rigid mien of disci 
 plined soldiers. Some hobbled on crutches and wooden 
 legs ; others had received wounds, which were still 
 rankling in their breasts. Many, alas ! had fallen in 
 battle, and perhaps were left unburied on the bloody 
 field." 
 
 "The country must have been sick of war," ob 
 served Laurence. 
 
 " One would have thought so," said Grandfather. 
 " Yet only two or three years elapsed before the folly 
 of some misguided men caused another mustering of 
 soldiers. This affair was called Shays war, because 
 a Captain Shays was the chief leader of the insur 
 gents." 
 
 " O Grandfather, don t let there be another war ! " 
 cried little Alice, piteously. 
 
 Grandfather comforted his dear little girl by assur 
 ing her that there was no great mischief done. Shays 
 war happened in the latter part of 1786 and the be 
 ginning of the following year. Its principal cause 
 was the badness of times. The state of Massachu 
 setts, in its public capacity, was very much in debt. 
 So, likewise, were many of the people. An insurrec 
 tion took place, the object of which seems to have 
 been to interrupt the course of la w and get rid of 
 debts and taxes. 
 
 James Bowdoin, a good and able man, was now 
 governor of Massachusetts. He sent General Lin 
 coln, at the head of four thousand men, to put down 
 the insurrection. This general, who had fought 
 through several hard campaigns in the Revolution, 
 managed matters like an old soldier, and totally 
 
,218 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 defeated the rebels at the expense of very littla 
 blood. 
 
 " There is but one more public event to be recorded 
 in the history of our chair," proceeded Grandfather. 
 " In the year 1Y94 Samuel Adams was elected gov 
 ernor of Massachusetts. I have told you what a dis 
 tinguished patriot he was, and how much he resembled 
 the stern old Puritans. Could the ancient freemen 
 of Massachusetts who lived in the days of the first 
 charter have arisen from their graves, they would 
 probably have voted for Samuel Adams to be gov 
 ernor." 
 
 " Well, Grandfather, I hope he sat in our chair ! " 
 said Clara. 
 
 "lie did," replied Grandfather. "He had long 
 been in the habit of visiting the barber s shop, where 
 our venerable chair, philosophically forgetful of its 
 former dignities, had now spent nearly eighteen not 
 uncomfortable years. Such a remarkable piece of 
 furniture, so evidently a relic of long-departed times, 
 could not escape the notice of Samuel Adams. He 
 made minute researches into its history, and ascer 
 tained what a succession of excellent and famous peo 
 ple had occupied it." 
 
 "How did he find it out?" aaked Charley; "for I 
 suppose the chair could not tell its own history." 
 
 " There used to be a vast collection of ancient let 
 ters and other documents in the tower of the Old 
 South church," answered Grandfather. Perhaps the 
 history of our chair was contained among these. At 
 all events, Samuel Adams appears to have been well 
 acquainted with it. When he became governor, he 
 felt that he could have no more honorable seat than 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 219 
 
 that which had been the ancient Chair of State. 
 He therefore purchased it for a trifle, and filled it wor 
 thily for three years as governor of Massachusetts." 
 
 " And what next ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " That is all," said Grandfather, heaving a sigh ; for 
 he could not help being a little sad at the thought 
 that his stories must close here. " Samuel Adams 
 died in 1803, at the age of above three-score and ten. 
 lie was a great patriot, but a poor man. At his 
 death he left scarcely property enough to pay the ex 
 penses of his funeral. This precious chair, among 
 his other effects, was sold at auction ; and your Grand 
 father, who was then in the strength of his years, be 
 came the purchaser." 
 
 Laurence, with a mind full of thoughts that strug 
 gled for expression but could find none, looked stead 
 fastly at the chair. 
 
 lie had now learned all its history, yet was not sat 
 isfied. 
 
 a Oh, how I wish that the chair could speak ! " 
 cried he. " After its Ions: intercourse with man- 
 
 O 
 
 kind, after looking upon the world for ages, what 
 lessons of golden wisdom it might utter ! It might 
 teach a private person how to lead a good and happy 
 life, or a statesman how to make his country pros 
 perous." 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 GRANDFATHER was struck by Laurence s idea that 
 the historic chair should utter a voice, and thus pour 
 forth the collected wisdom of two centuries. The old 
 gentleman had once possessed no inconsiderable share 
 of fancy ; and even now its fading sunshine occasion 
 ally glimmered among his more sombre reflections. 
 
 As the history of his chair had exhausted all his 
 facts, Grandfather determined to have recourse to 
 fable. So, after warning the children that they must 
 not mistake this story for a true one, he related what 
 we shall call 
 
 GRANDFATHER S DREAM. 
 
 Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? 
 Where were you, Charley, and dear little Alice ? 
 You had all gone to rest, and left old Grandfather to 
 meditate alone in his great chair. The lamp ha.l 
 grown so dim that its light hardly illuminated the 
 alabaster shade. The wood lire had crumbled into 
 heavy embers, among which the little flames danced, 
 and quivered, and sported about like fairies. 
 
 And here sat Grandfather all by himself. He 
 knew that it was bedtime ; yet he could not help 
 longing to hear your merry voices, or to hold a com 
 fortable chat with some old friend ; because then his 
 pillow would be visited by pleasant dreams. But, aa 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 221 
 
 neither children nor friends were at hand, Grand 
 father leaned back in the great chair and closed his 
 eyes, for the sake of meditating more profoundly. 
 
 And, when Grandfather s meditations had grown 
 very profound indeed, he fancied that he heard a sound 
 over his head, as if somebody were preparing to speak. 
 
 " Hem ! " it said, in a dry, husky tone. " H-e-m ! 
 Hem ! " 
 
 As Grandfather did not know that any person was 
 in the rocm, he started up in great surprise, and peeped 
 hither and thither, behind the chair, and into the re 
 cess by the fireside and at the dark nook yonder near 
 the bookcase. Nobody could he see. 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Grandfather to himself, " I must have 
 been dreaming." 
 
 But, just as he was going to resume his seat, Grand 
 father happened to look at the great chair. The rays 
 of firelight were flickering upon it in such a manner 
 that it really seemed as if its oaken frame were all 
 alive. What ! Did it not move its elbow ? There, 
 too ! It certainly lifted one of its ponderous fore-legs 
 as if it had a notion of drawing itself a little nearer to 
 the fire. Meanwhile the lion s head nodded at Grand 
 father with as polite and sociable a look as a lion s 
 visage, carved in oak, could possibly be expected to 
 assume. Well, this is strange ! 
 
 " Good evening, my old friend," said the dry and 
 husky voice, now a little clearer than before. " We 
 have been intimately acquainted so long that I think 
 it high time we have a chat together." 
 
 Grandfather was looking straight at the lion s head, 
 and could not be mistaken in supposing that it moved 
 its lips. So here the mystery was all explained. 
 
222 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 
 " I was not aware," said Grandfather, w r ith a civil 
 salutation to his oaken companion, " that you pos 
 sessed the faculty of speech. Otherwise I should 
 often have been glad to converse with such a solid, 
 useful, and substantial if not brilliant member of so 
 ciety." 
 
 " Oh ! " replied the ancient chair, in a quiet and easy 
 tone, for it had now cleared its th?*oat of the dust of 
 ages, " I am naturally a silent and incommunicative sort 
 of character. Once or twice in the course of a cen 
 tury I unclose my lips. When the gentle Lady Arbella 
 departed this life I uttered a groan. When the honest 
 mint-master weighed his plump daughter against the 
 pine-tree shillings I chuckled audibly at the joke. 
 When old Simon Bradstreet took the place of the ty 
 rant Andros 1 joined in the general huzza, and ca 
 pered on my wooden legs for joy. To be sure, the by 
 standers were so fully occupied with their own feelings 
 that my sympathy was quite unnoticed." 
 
 " And have you often held a private chat with your 
 friends ? " asked Grandfather. 
 
 " Not often," answered the chair. " I once talked 
 with Sir William Phips, and communicated my ideas 
 about the witchcraft delusion. Cotton Mather had 
 several conversations with me, and derived great ben 
 efit from my historical reminiscences. In the days of 
 the Stamp Act I whispered in the ear of Hutchinson, 
 bidding him to remember what stock his countrymen 
 were descended of, and to think whether the spirit 
 of their forefathers had utterly departed from them. 
 The last man whom I favored with a colloquy was that 
 stout old republican, Samuel Adams." 
 
 " And how happens it," inquired Grandfather, " that 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 223 
 
 there is no record nor tradition of your conversational 
 abilities ? It is an uncommon thing to meet with a 
 chair that can talk." 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giving 
 itself a hitch nearer to the hearth, " I am not apt to 
 choose the most suitable moments for unclosing my 
 lips. Sometimes I have inconsiderately begun to speak, 
 when my occupant, lolling back in my arms, was in 
 clined to take an after-dinner nap. Or, perhaps the 
 impulse to talk may be felt at midnight, when the 
 lamp burns dim and the fire crumbles into decay, and 
 the studious or thoughtful man finds that his brain is 
 in a mist. Of tenest, I have unwisely uttered my wis 
 dom in the ears of sick persons, when the inquietude 
 of fever made them toss about upon my cushion. And 
 so it happens, that, though my words make a pretty 
 strong impression at the moment, yet my auditors in 
 variably remember them only as a dream. I should 
 not wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to do the 
 same to-morrow morning." 
 
 " JSi or I either," thought Grandfather to himself. 
 However, he thanked this respectable old chair for 
 beginning the conversation, and begged to know 
 whether it had anything particular to communicate. 
 
 " I have been listening attentively to your narra 
 tive of my adventures," replied the chair ; " and it 
 must be owned that your correctness entitles you to be 
 held up as a pattern to biographers. Nevertheless, 
 there are a few omissions which I should be glad to 
 see supplied. For instance, you make no mention of 
 the good knight Sir Richard Saltonstall, nor of the 
 famous Hugh Peters, nor of those old regicide judges, 
 Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell. Yet I have borne the 
 
224 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR 
 
 weight of all those distinguished characters at one 
 time or another." 
 
 Grandfather promised amendment if ever he should 
 have an opportunity to repeat his narrative. The 
 good old chair, which still seemed to retain a due re 
 gard for outward appearance, then reminded him how 
 long a time had passed since it had heen provided 
 with a new cushion. It likewise expressed the opin 
 ion that the oaken figures -on its back would show to 
 much better advantage by the aid of a little varnish. 
 
 " And I have had a complaint in this joint," con 
 tinued the chair, endeavoring to lift one of its legs, 
 " ever since Charley trundled his wheelbarrow against 
 me." 
 
 " It shall be attended to," said Grandfather. " And 
 now, venerable chair, I have a favor to solicit. Dur 
 ing an existence of more than two centuries you have* 
 had a familiar intercourse with men who were es 
 teemed the wisest of their day. Doubtless, with your 
 capacious understanding, you have treasured up many 
 an invaluable lesson of wisdom. You certainly have 
 had time enough to guess the riddle of life. Tell us, 
 poor mortals, then, how we may be happy." 
 
 The lion s head fixed its eyes thoughtfully upon the 
 fire, and the whole chair assumed an aspect of deep 
 meditation. Finally, it beckoned to Grandfather 
 with its elbow, and made a step sideways towards him, 
 as if it had a very important secret to communicate. 
 
 " As long as I have stood in the midst of human 
 affairs," said the chair, with a very oracular enun 
 ciation. "I have constantly observed that JUSTICE, 
 TRUTH, and LOVE are the chief ingredients of every 
 liappy life." 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 22? 
 
 "Justice, Truth, and Love!" exclaimed Grand 
 father. "We need not exist two centuries to find out 
 that these qualities are essential to our happiness. 
 This is no secret. Every human being is born with 
 the instinctive knowledge of it." 
 
 "Ah!" cried the chair, drawing back in surprise. 
 "From \vhat I have observed of the dealings of man 
 with man, and nation with nation, I never should have 
 suspected that they knew this all-important secret. 
 And, with this eternal lesson written in your soul, do 
 you ask me to sift new wisdom for you out of my 
 petty existence of two or three centuries ? " 
 
 "But, my dear chair" said Grandfather. 
 
 " Xot a word more," interrupted the chair; "here 
 I close my lips for the next hundred years. At the 
 end of that period, if I shall have discovered any new 
 precepts of happiness better than what Heaven has 
 already taught you, they shall assuredly be given to 
 the world." 
 
 In the energy of its utterance the oaken chair 
 seemed to stamp its foot, and trod (we hope uninten 
 tionally) upon Grandfather s toe. The old gentleman 
 started, and found that he had been asleep in the 
 great chair, and that his heavy walking stick had 
 fallen down across his foot. 
 
 "Grandfather," cried little Alice, clapping her 
 hands, "you must dream a new dream every nighr 
 about our chair ! " 
 
 Laurence, and Clara, and Charley said the same. 
 But the good old gentleman shook his head, and de 
 clared that here ended the history, real or fabulous, of 
 GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 
 15 
 
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