LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chap.!.:!?. Copyright No 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
^^.^ -fc. 
 
 CCiif-^p/^ncC'/c. 
 
THE WHOLE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 BY 
 
 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 
 
 NEW YOP.K : 40 East Urn Street 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON : 100 Pukciiase Street 
 
(i) 
 
 
 V2H41 
 
 Copyright, 1898, 
 By THOMAS Y. CKOWELL & CO. 
 
 Norijjooli ^ress 
 
 J. S. Gushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In writing this ponderous tome, the author's 
 desire has been to describe the eminent charac- 
 ters and remarkable events of our annals, in such 
 a form and style, that the young may make 
 acquaintance with them of their own accord. For 
 this purpose, while ostensibly relating the adven- 
 tures 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 actions would 
 best enable him to give picturesque sketches of 
 the times. On its sturdy oaken legs, it trudges 
 diligently from one scene to another, and seems 
 always to thrust itself in the way with most be- 
 nign complacency, whenever a historical personage 
 happens to be looking round for a seat. 
 
 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 connecting their images with 
 
 ill 
 
iv PKEFACE. 
 
 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 familiar 
 existence, and were not wholly contained within 
 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. 
 
 Setting aside Grandfather and his auditors, and 
 excepting 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 outline 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 believes 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 
 succeeded 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 unmalleable 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. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 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, " Grand- 
 father 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 him- 
 self. He heard Clara's gladsome voice, too, as she 
 weeded and watered the flower-bed which had been 
 given her for her own. He 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 
 
2 grandfather's chair. 
 
 came fluttering, like a butterfly, into the room. 
 She had made each of the children 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 privilege of the youngest, and climbed his knee. 
 It was a pleasant thing to behold that fair and 
 golden-haired child in the lap of the old man, and 
 to think that, different as they were, the hearts of 
 both could be gladdened with the same joys. 
 
 "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 mahogany. It was very large and heavy, and 
 had a back that rose high above Grandfather's 
 
gkandfathek's chair. 3 
 
 white head. This back was curiously carved in 
 open-work, so as to represent flowers and foliage 
 and other devices; which the children had often 
 gazed atj but could never understand what they 
 meant. On the very tiptop of 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. 
 Perhaps 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 ladies 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 won- 
 dered 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 would teach him some- 
 thing about the history and distinguished people 
 of his country, which he has never read in any of 
 his school-books." 
 
4 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Cousin Laurence was a boy of twelve, a bright 
 scholar, in whom an early thoughtfulness and sen- 
 sibility began to show themselves. His young 
 fancy kindled at the idea of knowing all the advent- 
 ures of this venerable chair. He looked eagerly 
 in Grandfather's face; and even Charley, a bold, 
 brisk, restless little fellow of nine, sat himself 
 down on the carpet, and resolved to be quiet for at 
 least ten minutes, should the story last so long. 
 
 Meantime, little Alice was already asleep; so 
 Grandfather, being much pleased with such an 
 attentive audience, began to talk about matters 
 that happened long ago. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 But, before relating the adventures of the chair, 
 Grandfather found it necessary to speak of the cir- 
 cumstances that caused the first settlement of New 
 England. 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 
 Konian Catholics. These Puritans suffered so much 
 persecution in England that, in 1607, many of tliem 
 went over to Holland, and lived ten or twelve years 
 at Amsterdam and Ley den. But they feared that, 
 if they continued there much longer, they should 
 cease to be English, and should adopt all the man- 
 ners 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 
 
 6 
 
6 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 persecution 
 on account of their religious opinions. They began 
 to look around them for some spot where they might 
 worship God, not as the king and bishops thought 
 fit, but according to the dictates of their own con- 
 sciences. When their brethren had gone from 
 Holland to America, they bethought themselves 
 that they likewise might find refuge from per- 
 secution there. Several gentlemen among them 
 purchased a tract of country on the coast of Massa- 
 chusetts 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 
 commence a plantation at Salem. Peter Palfrey, 
 Roger Conant, 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 chil- 
 dren, " 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 earPs 
 castle. Do not you see the coat of arms of the 
 family of Lincoln^ carved in the open-work of the 
 
GRANDFATHER S CHAIR. 7 
 
 back? But Avhen 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 England, and embarked with the 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 Arbella. 
 
 The ship in which Mr. Johnson and his lady 
 embarked, 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 op- 
 pressed by the bishops, were flocking over to the 
 new world. One of the vessels in the fleet was 
 
8 grandfather's chair. 
 
 that same Mayflower wliich 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 England 
 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. He had the king's charter in his 
 keeping, and was appointed the first Governor of 
 Massachusetts. 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 min- 
 ister of the Gospel, whom the English 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 descend- 
 ants 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. 
 
grandfather's CHAIIl. 9 
 
 Not only these, but several other men of wealth, 
 and pious ministers, were in the cabin of the 
 Arbella. One liad banished himself forever from 
 the old hall where his ancestors had lived for liun- 
 dreds of years. Another had left his quiet parson- 
 age, in a country town of England. Others had 
 come from the universities of Oxford or Cambridge, 
 where they had gained great fame for their learn- 
 ing. 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 and read passages from the 
 Bible to his companions. And thus, with prayers 
 and pious conversation, 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 harbor 
 of Salem in the month of June. 
 
 At that period there were but six or eight dwell- 
 ings 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 clotli till 
 they could provide themselves with better shelter. 
 
10 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Many of them went to form a settlement at Charles- 
 town. 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 Endi- 
 cott. He was the chief person in the plantation, 
 and had the only comfortable house which the new- 
 comers had beheld since they left England. So 
 now, children, you must imagine Grandfather^s 
 chair in the midst of a new scene. 
 
 Suppose it a hot summer's day, and the lattice- 
 windows 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 thinking mournfully of far-off England. 
 She rises and goes to the window. There, amid 
 patches of garden ground and corn-field, she sees 
 the few wretched hovels of the settlers, with the 
 still ruder wigwams and cloth tents of the passen- 
 gers 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. 
 
 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 dwell- 
 ing; 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 neigh- 
 
grandfather's chair. 11 
 
 bors to lend him a hand. There goes a man to the 
 seashore, 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 figures, 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 diiSiculties 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 won- 
 ders whereabouts in the wilderness her friends will 
 dig her grave. 
 
 Mr. Johnson had gone, with Governor Winthrop 
 and most of the other passengers, to Boston, where 
 he intended to build a house for Lady Arbella and 
 
12 grandfather's chair. 
 
 himself. Boston was then covered with wild 
 woods, and had fewer inhabitants even than Salem. 
 During 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 
 , Endicott's heart was as bold and resolute as iron, 
 and he could not understand 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 being 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. Higginson, the minister of Salem, held long 
 religious talks together. Thus John Endicott was 
 a man of multifarious business, and had no time to 
 look back regretfully to his native land. He 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 13 
 
 fiower, in the shadow of the forest! And now the 
 great chair was often empty, because Lady Arbella 
 grew too 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 
 leaning 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 prodig- 
 ious clatter, upon Grandfather's stick, and was not 
 yet returned. So large a boy should have been 
 ashamed to ride upon a stick. But Laurence and 
 Clara had listened attentively, and were affected 
 
14 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 had gathered 
 in them, like dew upon a delicate flower; but when 
 Grandfather ceased to speak, the sunshine 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?" 
 asked Clara. 
 
 " His heart appears to have been quite broken, " 
 answered 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 intended 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. Jolnison so 
 much," continued Grandfather, "that it was the 
 last request of many of them, when they died, tliat 
 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, containing many old grave- 
 
grandfather's chair. 15 
 
 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 Eng- 
 land." 
 
 Grandfather looked at Laurence, to discover 
 whether he knew how profound and true a thing 
 he had said. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Not 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 confine- 
 ment within doors intolerable. But as the rain 
 came down in a flood, the little fellow was hope- 
 lessly 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 
 activity of the other children; and they had be- 
 taken themselves to occupations that did not admit 
 of his companionship. Laurence sat in a recess 
 near the book-case, reading, not for the first time, 
 the Midsummer Night's Dream. Clara was mak- 
 ing 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 erecting the Monu- 
 ment. Little Alice sat on Grandfather's footstool, 
 with a picture-book in her hand; and, for every 
 
 16 
 
grandfather's chair. 17 
 
 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 
 anything about little Alice's stories, although 
 Grandfather 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 Grandfather, than little Alice. 
 
 " Grandfather, I want to hear more about your 
 chair," said he. 
 
 l^ow Grandfather remembered that Charley had 
 galloped away upon a stick, in the midst of the 
 narrative 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 inat- 
 tentive auditor as Charley. But Laurence laid 
 down his book and seconded the request. Clara 
 drew her chair nearer to Grandfather, and little 
 Alice immediately closed her picture-book, and 
 looked up into his face. Grandfather 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 
 
18 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 not tell the chil- 
 dren what became of this upright and zealous man, 
 at last. In fact, his auditors were growing impa- 
 tient 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 
 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 abstruse 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 Will- 
 iams, 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 19 
 
 would often come to visit liim. As the clergy had 
 great iufluence in temporal concerns, the minister 
 and magistrate would talk over the occurrences of 
 the day, and consult how the people might be 
 governed according to scriptural laws. 
 
 One thing especially troubled them both. In 
 the old national banner of England, under which 
 her soldiers 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 was mustered, the soldiers, 
 with Endicott at their head, had no other flag to 
 march under than this same old papistical banner 
 of England, with the lied 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 harbor, 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 idolatrous Cross flying over our heads. A 
 stranger beholding 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 
 
20 grandfather's chair. 
 
 would answer, "you speak as an honest man and 
 Protestant Christian should. For mine own part, 
 were it my business to draw a sword, I should 
 reckon it sinful to fight under such a banner. 
 jSTeither can I, in my pulpit, ask the blessing of 
 Heaven upon it." 
 
 Such, probably, was the way in which Eoger 
 Williams and John Endicott used to talk about the 
 banner of the Eed 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 Eome. 
 
 Not long afterwards there was a military muster 
 at Salem. Every able-bodied man in the town and 
 neighborhood 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 splendor 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 devoted Puritans, and of the same temper as 
 
grandfather's chair. 21 
 
 those with whom Oliver Cromwell afterwards over- 
 threw 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 
 horrible a thing it was, that men, who had fled from 
 Popish idolatry into the wilderness, should be com- 
 pelled to tight 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 assurance 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 Rome ; and in that mind I now cut 
 the Papal Cross out of this banner." 
 
 And so he did. And thus, in a province belong- 
 ing 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 
 Massachusetts, heard of it, they were disquieted, 
 
22 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 Endi- 
 cott 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 
 country must have been in that bold man's heart," 
 answered Grandfather; "but I doubt whether he 
 had given the matter much consideration, except 
 in its religious bearing. However, it was a very 
 remarkable affair, and a very strong expression of 
 Puritan character." 
 
 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. 
 
 i 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 " KoGER Williams, " said Grandfather, " did not 
 keep possession of tlie chair a great while. His 
 opinions of civil and religious matters differed, in 
 many respects, from those of the rulers and clergy- 
 men of Massachusetts. Now the wise men of 
 those days believed 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. He 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 
 
 23 
 
24 grandfather's chair. 
 
 made treaties with the Indians, and began a plan- 
 tation 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 
 valleys, 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 populous city; and the inhabitants have a 
 great veneration for Roger Williams. His 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 Roger 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 for- 
 ever 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 Hutchinson. At 
 all events it was in her possession in 1637. She 
 
grandfather's chair. 25 
 
 was a very sharp-witted and well-instructed lady, 
 and was so conscious of her own wisdom and abili- 
 ties, 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 attended. Mrs. Hutchin- 
 son presided at these meetings, sitting with great 
 state and dignity in Grandfather's chair." 
 
 " Grandfather, was it positively this very chair? " 
 demanded Clara, laying her hand upon its carved 
 elbow. 
 
 "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 Kev. Mr. Cotton was the only 
 sincerely pious and holy clergyman in New Eng- 
 land. Now the clergy of those days had quite as 
 much share in the government of the country, 
 though indirectly, as the magistrates themselves; 
 so you may imagine what a host of powerful ene- 
 mies were raised up against Mrs. Hutchinson. A 
 synod was convened; that is to say, an assemblage 
 of all the ministers in Massachusetts. They de- 
 clared that there were eighty-tAvo erroneous opinions 
 on religious subjects, diffused among the people, 
 and that Mrs. Hutchinson's opinions were of the 
 number." 
 
26 grandfather's chair. 
 
 "If tliey had eighty-two wrong opinions," ob- 
 served Charley, "I don't see how they could have 
 any right ones." 
 
 " Mrs. Hutchinson had many zealous friends and 
 converts," continued Grandfather. "She was fa- 
 vored 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 abhor- 
 rence 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 minis- 
 ters being the most powerful, they disarmed and 
 imprisoned Mrs. Hutchinson's adherents. She, 
 like Roger Williams, was banished." 
 
 "Dear Grandfather, did they drive the poor 
 woman into the woods?" exclaimed little Alice, 
 who contrived to feel a human interest even in 
 these discords of polemic divinity. 
 
 "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 authorities, that she gave the great chair to 
 her friend, Henry Vane. He was a young man of 
 wonderful talents and great learning, Avho had 
 imbibed the religious opinions of the Puritans, and 
 left England with the intention of spending his life 
 in Massachusetts. The people chose him governor ; 
 
grandfather's chair. 27 
 
 but the controversy about Mrs. Hutchinson, and 
 other troubles, caused him to leave the country in 
 1637. You may read the subsequent 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 Vane. 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 
 glorious, as by giving him the crown of martyr- 
 dom." 
 
 In order that the children might fully under- 
 stand the all-important history of the chair. Grand- 
 father now thought fit to speak of the progress 
 that was made in settling several colonies. Tlie 
 settlement of Plymouth, in 1G20, has already been 
 mentioned. In 1635, Mr. Hooker and Mr. Stone, 
 two ministers, went on foot from Massachusetts to 
 Connecticut, through the patliless woods, taking 
 their whole congregation along with them. They 
 founded the town of Hartford. In 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 
 E/hodes, since called Illiode Island, and settled 
 there. About this time, also, many settlers had 
 
28 grandfather's chair. 
 
 gone to Maine, and were living without any regular 
 government. There were likewise settlers near 
 Piscataqua River, in the region which is now 
 called New Hampshire. 
 
 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 brotherhood 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 Piver 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 sus- 
 pended 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 rever- 
 ence, 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 sometimes sit a whole hour, espe- 
 cially 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 
 similar 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. 
 
 29 
 
30 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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, 
 found repose within its comfortable arms. If 
 Grandfather 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 
 England, " 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 
 forefathers were to give their young people a good 
 education. They had scarcely cut down trees 
 enough to make room for their own dwellings, be- 
 fore they began to think of establishing a college. 
 Their principal object was, to rear up pious and 
 learned ministers; and hence old writers call Har- 
 vard 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. 
 
grandfather's chair. 31 
 
 my dear auditors, I must confess tliat 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 Eepresentatives. I have 
 nearly satisfied myself, however, that, during most 
 of this questionable period, it was literally the 
 Chair of State. It gives me much pleasure to 
 imagine, that several successive governors of Massa- 
 chusetts 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 Lau- 
 rence. 
 
 "With Charley's permission, I will," replied 
 Grandfather, smiling. " Let us consider it settled, 
 therefore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, and 
 Endicott, each of them, when chosen governor, took 
 his seat in our great chair on election day. In this 
 chair, likewise, did those excellent governors pre- 
 side, while holding consultations with the chief 
 counsellors of the province, who were styled Assist- 
 ants. The governor sat in this chair, too, whenever 
 messages were brought to him from the chamber of 
 Representatives. " 
 
 And here Grandfather took occasion to talk, 
 rather tediously, about the nature and forms of 
 government that established themselves, almost 
 
32 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 coun- 
 sellors, and the representatives. The people of 
 old England had never enjoyed anything like the 
 liberties and privileges, which the settlers of New 
 England now possessed. And they did not adopt 
 these modes of government after long study, 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 
 during which the governors sat in our chair was 
 not very full of striking incidents. The province 
 was now established on a secure foundation; but 
 it did not increase so rapidly as at first, because the 
 Puritans were no longer driven from England by 
 persecution. However, there was still a quiet and 
 natural growth. The legislature i ncorporated towns, 
 and made new purchases of lands from the Indians. 
 A very memorable event took place in 1643. The 
 colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, 
 and New Haven formed a union, for the pur- 
 pose of assisting each other in difficulties, and for 
 
grandfather's chair. 33 
 
 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 colo- 
 nies did not compose one nation together; it was 
 merely a confederacy among the governments. It 
 somewhat resembled the league of the Amphictyons, 
 which you remember in Grecian history. But to 
 return 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 Nova Scotia. A treaty of peace, be- 
 tween Massachusetts and the French colony, was 
 then signed." 
 
 " Did England allow Massachusetts to make war 
 and peace with foreign countries? " asked Laurence. 
 
 " Massachusetts, and the whole of New England, 
 was then almost independent of the mother coun- 
 try," 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 attention 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 New 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 be- 
 came Protector of England ; and as he was a Puritan 
 
34 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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, sus- 
 pecting that Charley would find the subject rather 
 dry, he looked sideways at that vivacious little 
 fellow, and saw him give an involuntary yawn. 
 Whereupon, Grandfather proceeded with the his- 
 tory of the chair, and related a very entertaining 
 incident, which will be found in the next chapter. 
 
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 Massachu- 
 setts; for, assuredly, 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. This old gentleman, on care- 
 fully examining the maimed chair, discovered that 
 its broken leg might be clamped with iron, and 
 made as serviceable as ever." 
 
 "Here is the very leg that was broken!" ex- 
 claimed 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 
 
 35 
 
36 grandfather's chair. 
 
 The Pine-tree Shillings. 
 
 The Captain John Hull, aforesaid, was the mint- 
 master of Massachusetts, and coined all the money 
 that was made there. This was a new line of busi- 
 ness; for, in the earlier days of the colony, the 
 current coinage 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 
 perhaps exchanged a bear-skin for it. If he wished 
 for a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it Avith 
 a pile of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used 
 instead of farthings. The Indians had a sort of 
 money, called wampum, 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, instead of silver 
 or gold. 
 
 As the people grew more numerous, and their 
 trade one with another increased, the want of cur- 
 rent money was still more sensibly felt. To supply 
 the demand, the general court passed a law for 
 establishing a coinage of shillings, sixpences, and 
 threepences. Captain John Hull was appointed to 
 
grandfather's chair. 37 
 
 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 the greater part of the silver consisted 
 of bullion from the mines of South America, which 
 the English buccaneers — (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. Hence they were 
 called pine-tree shillings. And for every twenty 
 shillings that he coined, you will remember, Cap- 
 tain 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 offered him a large sum of money, if he would 
 but give up that twentieth shilling, which he was 
 continually dropping into his own pocket. But 
 Captain Hull declared himself perfectly satisfied 
 
38 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 shillings. 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 himself in. 
 
 When the mint-master had grown very rich, a 
 young man, Samuel Sewell by name, came a-court- 
 ing 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 con- 
 trary, having always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, 
 doughnuts, Indian puddings, 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 he 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 six- 
 pences; and the knees of his small-clothes were 
 buttoned with silver threepences. Thus attired. 
 
grandfather's chair. ' 39 
 
 he sat with great dignity in Grandfather's chair; 
 and, being a portly okl gentleman, 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 pa^ony, 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 put on. His hair was cropped close 
 to his head, because Governor Endicott had forbid- 
 den 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 pare love, and had said nothing at all 
 about her portion. So when the marriage cere- 
 mony was over, Captain Hull whispered a word to 
 two of his men-servants, who immediately went 
 out, and soon returned, lugging in a large pair of 
 scales. They were such a pair as Avholesale mer- 
 chants 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. 
 
40 gkandfather's chair. 
 
 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 ser- 
 vants, " bring that box hither." 
 
 The box, to 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 recep- 
 tacle, and were finally obliged to drag it across the 
 floor. Captain Hull then took a key from his 
 girdle, unlocked the chest, and lifted its ponderous 
 lid. Behold ! it was full to the brim of bright pine- 
 tree shillings, 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 coinage. 
 
 Then the servants, at Captain Hull's command, 
 heaped double handfuls of shillings into one side 
 of the scales, while Betsey remained in the other. 
 Jingle, jingle went the shillings, as handful after 
 handful 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 
 
'Jl>JGLE, JIMGLE, WEKT THE JSUlLLIi^GS." 
 
grandfather's chair. 41 
 
 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 Grand- 
 father had made it out of his own head. He 
 assured them faithfully, 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 be- 
 came 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." 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 When Hs 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 impelled 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 
 mercies of wild beasts and Indians. The children 
 
 42 
 
CxllANDFATHER^S CIIAm. 43 
 
 wore amazed to hoar, that, the move 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 Puri- 
 tans. But Grandfather told them, that God had 
 put something into the soul of man, which always 
 turned the cruelties of the persecutor to naught. 
 
 He went on to relate, that, in 1G59, 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 incident 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, clenching 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 
 
44 grandfather's chair. 
 
 stories had thrown such an interest around Grand- 
 father's chair, as did the fact, that the poor, perse- 
 cuted, wandering 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 persecution to a close. 
 
 " In 1660, the same year in which Mary Dyer was 
 executed," said he, " Charles the Second was re- 
 stored to the throne of his fathers. This king had 
 many vices ; but he would not permit blood to be 
 shed, under pretence of religion, in any part of 
 his dominions. The Quakers in England told him 
 what had been done to their brethren in Massachu- 
 setts ; 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 Eoxbury. But 
 besides attending to his 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 men- 
 tion 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. 
 
grandfather's chair. 45 
 
 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 
 ministers 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 cer- 
 tainly been very busy with the savage tribes. 
 
 In many places the English found the wigwams 
 deserted, and the corn-fields growing to waste, with 
 none 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 
 small-pox broke out among the Massachusetts 
 Indians, multitudes of whom died by this terrible 
 disease of the old world. These misfortunes made 
 them far less powerful than they had formerly 
 been. 
 
 Eor nearly half a century after the arrival of the 
 English, the red men showed themselves generally 
 inclined to peace and amity. They often made 
 submission, when they might have made successful 
 war. The Plymouth settlers, led by the famous 
 Captain Miles Standish, slew some of them in 1623, 
 
46 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 defeated ; but he was mur- 
 dered by themj and his head was sent to his Eng- 
 lish 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. 
 
 "I have sometimes doubted," said Grandfather, 
 when he had told these things to the children, "I 
 have sometimes doubted whether there was more 
 than a single man, among our forefathers, who 
 realized 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 al- 
 lowed 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. 
 
gkandfathek's chair. 47 
 
 " Sometimes, it is true," answered Grandfather, 
 "the magistrates and ministers would talk about 
 civilizing and converting the red people. But, at 
 the bottom of their hearts, they would have had 
 almost as much expectation of civilizing a 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 
 converted them," said Charley. 
 
 " Ah, Charley, there spoke the very spirit of 
 our forefathers ! " replied Grandfather. " But Mr. 
 Eliot had a better spirit. He 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 many of the Indians how to read. 
 He taught them, likewise, how to pray. Hence 
 they were called 'praying Indians.' Finally, hav- 
 ing 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. 
 
 "He sat down in his study," continued Grand- 
 father, " and began a translation of the Bible into 
 the Indian tongue. It was while he was engaged 
 
48 grandfather's chair. 
 
 in this pious work, that the mint-master gave him 
 our great chair. His toil needed it, and deserved 
 it." 
 
 " 0, 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." 
 
CHAPTEK 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 
 was at work upon 
 
 The Indian Bible. 
 
 My dear children, what a task would you think 
 it, even with a long lifetime before you, were you 
 bidden to copy every chapter and verse, and word, 
 in yonder great 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; — if 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 
 B 49 
 
50 grandfather's chair. 
 
 to undertake 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 w^ere 
 the descendants of 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 portion 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 w^ere 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 
 undertaking Mr. Eliot had in hand. They, like 
 himself, had been bred in the studious cloisters of 
 a university, 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 babble 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! 
 
grandfather's chair. 51 
 
 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 attempts 
 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. 
 
 "Eead 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 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 audi- 
 tors, 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 man had been formed; and they were still 
 heard to echo in it. 
 
 The lesson being over, Mr. Eliot would give the 
 Indian 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 
 Indian character so well, nor possessed so great an 
 influence over the New England tribes, as the 
 
52 grandfather's chair. 
 
 apostle did. His advice and assistance must often 
 have been valuable to liis countrymen, in their 
 transactions with the Indians. Occasionally, per- 
 haps, the governor and some of the counsellors 
 came to visit Mr. Eliot. Perchance they were seek- 
 ing 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 Indians 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 corslet 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. 
 
 But the apostle resisted both the craft of the 
 politician, and the fierceness of the warrior. 
 
 "Treat these sons of the forest as men and 
 brethren," he would say, "and let us endeavor to 
 make them Christians. Their forefathers were of 
 that chosen race, whom God delivered from Egyp- 
 tian bondage. 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 himsalf again over the half written page. He 
 
grandfather's chair. 53 
 
 dared hardly relax a moment from his toil. He 
 felt that, ill the book which he was translating, 
 there was a deep human, as well as heavenly wis- 
 dom, 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 consideration was this, when he 
 reflected that the eternal welfare of a whole race of 
 men depended upon his accomplishment of the task 
 which he had set himself! What if his hands 
 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 for- 
 ever. 
 
 Impelled by such thoughts as these, he sat writ- 
 ing 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 stone chimney, into 
 the wintry air. Before the earliest bird sang, in 
 the morning, the apostle's lamp was kindled ; and, 
 at midnight, his weary head was not yet upon its 
 pillow. And at length, leaning back in the great 
 chair, he could say to himself, with a holy triumph, 
 — " The work is finished ! " 
 
 It was finished. Here was a Bible for the Ind- 
 ians. Those long-lost descendants of the ten tribes 
 of Israel would now learn the history of their 
 forefathers. That grace, which the ancient Israel- 
 
54 grandfather's chair. 
 
 ites had forfeited, was offered anew to tlieir chil- 
 dren. 
 
 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, and 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 mes- 
 sage 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 
 Laurence, "that Mr. Eliot's labors have done no 
 good, except 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 
 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 66 
 
 closely, then think of Eliot's Indian Bible. It is 
 good for the world that such a man has 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. 
 Little 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 King 
 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 Chris- 
 tian faith. 
 
 " It must have been a great anguish to the 
 apostle," continued Grandfather, " to hear of mut- 
 ual slaughter and outrage between his own country- 
 men 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 community of red people whom Mr. 
 Eliot had begun to civilize, was scattered, and prob- 
 
56 grandfather's chair. 
 
 ably never Avas restored to a flourisliing condition. 
 But his zeal did not grow cold ; and only about five 
 years before his death he took great pains in pre- 
 paring a new edition of the Indian Bible." 
 
 " I do wish, Grandfather," cried Charley, " you 
 would tell us all about the battles in King Philip's 
 war." 
 
 " 0, 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 to 
 himself, " and I will be the captain." 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 The cliildren were now accustomed to assemble 
 round Grandfather's chair, at all their unoccupied 
 moments; 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 knowledge from a thousand sources. 
 As yet, it was not their time to do. 
 
 Sometimes, as Grandfather gazed at their fair, 
 unworldly 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, youth- 
 ful creatures, who had hitherto sported around his 
 chair, without inquiring Avhether 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 
 
 57 
 
58 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 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 mortality 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 experi- 
 ence, — all that he had enjoyed or suffered, or seen, 
 or heard, or acted, with the broodings of his soul 
 upon the whole, — had contributed somewhat. 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, con- 
 tinued his history of the chair, trusting that a 
 profounder wisdom than his own would extract, 
 from these flowers 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 59 
 
 his father's throne. When death had stricken 
 Oliver Cromwell, that mighty protector 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 cere- 
 mony 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 
 Charles died, in 1685, and was succeeded by his 
 brother James, the patriarchs of New England be- 
 gan to tremble. King James was a bigoted Roman 
 Catholic, 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 
 apprehensions. 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 liberties, was declared void. The colonists 
 were now no longer freemen; they were entirely 
 dependent on the king's pleasure. At first, in 1G85, 
 King James appointed Joseph Dudley, a native of 
 
60 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 adopted. The counsellors, with whom the 
 governor consulted on matters of state, were ap- 
 pointed by himself. This sort of government was 
 no better than an absolute despotism. 
 
 "The people suffered much wrong, while Sir 
 Edmund Andros ruled over them," continued 
 Grandfather, " and they were apprehensive of much 
 more. He had brought some soldiers with him 
 from England, who took possession of the old for- 
 tress on Castle Island, and of the fortification on 
 Eort Hill. Sometimes it was rumored that a gen- 
 eral massacre of the inhabitants was to be perpe- 
 trated by these soldiers. There were reports, too, 
 that all the ministers were to be slain or impris- 
 oned." 
 
 " 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. 
 
grandfather's chair. 61 
 
 Well, while tliese 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 Will- 
 iam the Third. Poor old King James made his 
 escape to Erance.'' 
 
 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 Ran- 
 dolph, and his other principal adherents, were 
 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. 
 " He came over with the first settlers, and had been 
 the intimate 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 
 Bradstreet was the last of the Puritans." 
 
 Grandfather paused a moment, and smiled, as if 
 he had something very interesting to tell his audi- 
 tors. He then proceeded : 
 
 " And now, Laurence, — now, Clara, — now, 
 
62 gkandfather's chair. 
 
 Charley, — 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 
 Grandfather had quite forgotten the chair." 
 
 "It was a solemn and affecting sight," said 
 Grandfather, " when this venerable patriarch, with 
 his white beard flowing down upon his breast, took 
 his seat in his Chair of State. Within his remem- 
 brance, 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 wilderness. He was surrounded 
 by a shouting multitude, 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." 
 
 " 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 63 
 
 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 departed brotherhood. There was no other 
 public man remaining to connect the ancient system 
 of government 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 New England 
 granite." 
 
 " It would not be amiss, Laurence," said Grand- 
 father; "but perhaps clay, or some other perish- 
 able 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 Phipps then 
 arrived in Boston, with a new charter from King 
 William, and a commission to be governor." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 "And what became of the chair?" inquired 
 Clara. 
 
 *^The outward aspect of our chair," replied 
 Grandfather, "was now somewhat the worse for 
 its long and arduous services. It was considered 
 hardly magnificent 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 Phipps happened to see 
 it, and being much pleased with its construction, 
 resolved to take the good old chair into his private 
 mansion. Accordingly, with his own gubernatorial 
 hands, he repaired one of its arms, which had been 
 slightly damaged." 
 
 " Why, Grandfather, here is the very arm ! " 
 interrupted Charley, in great wonderment. " And 
 did Sir William Phipps 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 Phipps," said Grandfather. " You 
 will then perceive that he well knew how to use 
 his hands." 
 
 64 
 
grandfather's cpiair. 65 
 
 So Grandfather related tlie 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 
 gold cup, Avith 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, flow- 
 ing 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 ruflles at his 
 wrists. On a table lies his silver-hilted sword, and 
 in a corner of the room stands his gold-headed cane, 
 made of a beautifully polished West Indian wood. 
 
 Somewhat such an aspect as this did Sir William 
 Phipps 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 
 
66 grandfather's chair. 
 
 cushion, in order to make it suitable for such a mag- 
 nificent looking personage. 
 
 But Sir William Phipps had not always worn a 
 gold embroidered coat, nor always sat so much at 
 his ease as he did in Grandfather's chair. He 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 boyhood 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 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, be- 
 fore he lost all the money that he had acquired by 
 his marriage, and became a poor man again. Still 
 he was not discouraged. He 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 resolu- 
 tion to lead an industrious life, that made him look 
 forward with so much confidence to better days. 
 
 Several years passed away ; and William Phipps 
 had not yet gained the riches which he promised to 
 
gkandfather's chaik. 67 
 
 himself. 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 sup- 
 posed to contain a great deal of gold and silver. 
 Phipps went to the place in a small vessel, hoping 
 that he should be able to recover some of the treas- 
 ure from the wreck. He did not succeed, however, 
 in fishing up gold and silver enough to pay the ex- 
 penses 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 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 Phipps 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 op- 
 portunity to fill his treasury with Spanish gold. 
 He appointed William Phipps to be captain of a 
 vessel, called the Rose Algier, carrying eighteen 
 
68 grandfather's chair. 
 
 guns and ninety-five men. So noAv lie Avas Captain 
 Phipps of the English navy. 
 
 Captain Phipps sailed from England in the Pose 
 Algier, and cruised for nearly two years in the 
 West Indies, endeavoring 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 suc- 
 cess seemed very small ; and most people would 
 have thought that Captain Phipps was as far from 
 having money enough to build a " fair brick house," 
 as he was while he tended sheep. 
 
 The seamen of the Pose Algier became discour- 
 aged, and gave up all hope of making their fortunes 
 by discovering the Spanish wreck. They wanted 
 to compel Captain Phipps to turn pirate. There 
 was a much better prospect, they thought, of grow- 
 ing rich by plundering vessels, which still sailed in 
 the sea, than by seeking for a ship that had lain be- 
 neath the waves full half a, century. They broke 
 out in open mutiny, but were finally mastered by 
 Phipps, 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, besides, the Rose Algier was leaky and unsea- 
 worthy. So Captain Phipps judged it best to 
 return to England. 
 
 Before leaving the West Indies, he met with a 
 Spaniard, an old man, who remembered the wreck 
 of the Spanish ship, and gave him directions how 
 
grandfather's chair. 69 
 
 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 
 Phipps solicited the king to let him have another 
 vessel, and send him back again to the West 
 Indies. But King James, who had probably ex- 
 pected that the Eose Algier would return laden 
 with gold, refused to have anything more to do 
 with the affair. Phipps might never have been 
 able to renew the search, if the Duke of Albemarle, 
 and some other noblemen, had not lent their assist- 
 ance. They fitted out a ship and gave the com- 
 mand to Captain Phipps. He sailed from England, 
 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 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 precious metals there. Nothing, 
 
70 grandfather's chair. 
 
 however, could they see ; nothing more valuable 
 than a curious sea-shrub, which was growing be- 
 neath the water, in a crevice of the reef of rocks. 
 It flaunted to and fro 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 
 English 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 mo- 
 ment he had drawn breath, "some great cannon 
 among the rocks, near where the shrub was grow- 
 ing." 
 
 No 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 imme- 
 diately plunged over the boat's side, and swam 
 headlong down, groping 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 sailors took it iuto 
 the boatj and then rowed back as speedily as they 
 
grandfather's chair. 71 
 
 could, being in haste to inform Captain Phipps of 
 their good hick. 
 
 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 Phipps. 
 " 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 sacra- 
 mental vessel, which had been destined as a gift to 
 some Catholic church. Now they drcAv 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 precious cup, and was drawn 
 up along with it. Now their rakes or fishing lines 
 were loaded with masses of silver 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 
 
72 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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. 
 
 But X^aptain Phipps 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 nobody could have guessed that 
 these were money-bags. By remaining so long 
 in the salt water, they had become covered over 
 with a crust which had the appearance 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 danger- 
 ous even to look at such a vast amount of wealth. 
 A sea captain, who had assisted Phipps 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 shipwrecked Spaniards in 
 quiet possession of their wealth. 
 
 Captain Phipps and his men continued to fish up 
 plate, bullion, and dollars, as plentifully as ever, till 
 their provisions grew short. Then, as they could 
 
grandfather's chair. 73 
 
 not feed upon gold and silver any more than old 
 King Midas could, they found it necessary to go in 
 search of better sustenance. Phipps resolved to 
 return to England. He arrived there in 1687, and 
 was received with great joy by the Duke of Albe- 
 marle and other English lords, who had fitted out 
 the vessel. AVell 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 him comfortable for the rest of his days. It 
 also enabled him to fulfil his promise to his wife, 
 by building a " fair brick house," in the Green Lane 
 of Boston. The Duke of Albemarle sent Mrs. 
 Phipps a magnificent gold cup, worth at least five 
 thousand dollars. Before Captain Phipps left Lon- 
 don, King James made him a knight ; so that, 
 instead of the obscure ship-carpenter who had for- 
 merly dwelt among them, the inhabitants of Boston 
 welcomed him on his return as the rich and famous 
 Sir William Phipps. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Sir William Phipps,'^ 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 x'^.m erica, 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 
 Quebec, but did not succeed in capturing the city. 
 In 1692, being then in London, King William the 
 Third appointed him governor of Massachusetts. 
 And now, my dear children, having followed Sir 
 William Phipps 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 Phipps, 
 
 74 
 
grandfather's chair. 75 
 
 was eager to know how he had acted, and what hap- 
 pened 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 
 the adventures of the chair," said he. " But its 
 history becomes very obscure just at this point; 
 and I must search into some old books and manu- 
 scripts, before proceeding further. Besides, it is 
 now a good time to pause in our narrative ; because 
 the new charter, which Sir William Phipps brought 
 over from England, 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 inter- 
 twining 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 Gkand- 
 fatiiek's Chair." 
 
 " That would be beautiful ! " exclaimed Lau- 
 rence, 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 gen- 
 eration to generation, a chair sits familiarly in the 
 midst of human interests, and is witness to the 
 
76 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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, and throwing a warm fire- 
 light radiance over all the household. Now, while 
 we thought not of it, the dark-clad mourner, Grief, 
 has stolen into the place of Joy, but not to retain 
 it long. The imagination can hardly grasp so wide 
 a subject, as is embraced in the experience 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." 
 
 " 0, yes ! " cried Clara, expressing a woman^s 
 feeling on the point in question, " the history of a 
 country is not nearly so interesting as that of a 
 single family would be." 
 
 " But the history of a country is more easily 
 told," said Grandfather. " So, if we proceed with 
 our narrative of the chair, I shall still confine my- 
 self to its connection 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 
 l^ast times, would hardly have deemed it strange, 
 if its former occupants, one after another, had 
 
grandfather's chair. 77 
 
 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 Will- 
 iams, in his cloak and band, earnest, energetic, and 
 benevolent; then the figure of Anne Hutchinson, 
 with the like gesture as when she presided at the 
 assemblages of women ; then the dark, intellectual 
 face of Vane, " young in years, but in sage counsel 
 old." Next would have appeared the successive 
 governors, Winthrop, Dudley, Bellingham, and 
 Endicott, who sat in the chair, while it was a Chair 
 of State. Then its ample seat would have been 
 pressed by the comfortable, rotund corporation of 
 the honest mint-master. Then the half-frenzied 
 shape of Mary Dyer, the persecuted 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 Puritanism, the 
 venerable dignity of the white-bearded Governor 
 Bradstreet. Lastly, on the gorgeous crimson cush- 
 ion of Grandfather^s chair, would have shown the 
 purple and golden magnificence of Sir William 
 Phipps. 
 
 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 
 
78 grandfather's chair. 
 
 the old Lincoln coat of arms, and the oaken flowers 
 and foliage, and the fierce lion's head at the sum- 
 mit, the whole, apparently, in as perfect preserva- 
 tion 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 convul- 
 sions 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 
 favorite with all the children, leaped in at the open 
 window. Perceiving that Grandfather's chair was 
 empty, and having often before experienced its 
 comforts, puss laid herself quietly down upon the 
 cushion. 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 Grand- 
 father's Chair ! " 
 
PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "0 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 venera- 
 ble chair's adventures ! Summer was now past and 
 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. 
 Grandfather loved a wood-fire, far better than a 
 grate of glowing anthracite, or than the dull heat 
 of an invisible furnace, which 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 
 
 79 
 
80 grandfather's chair. 
 
 that to create warmth is but one of the good offices 
 which are expected from it. Therefore it dances 
 on the hearth, and laughs broadly through the room, 
 and plays a thousand antics, and throws a joyous 
 glow over all the faces that encircle it. 
 
 In the twilight of the evening, the fire grew 
 brighter 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 pros- 
 pect 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 
 sunshine of the present, and so had forgotten the 
 shadowy region of the past, in the midst of which 
 stood Grandfather's chair. But now, in the autum- 
 nal 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 in- 
 teresting 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 open back ; 
 
grandfather's chair. 81 
 
 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 dear old chair ! How strange that we 
 should have forgotten it so long ! " 
 
 *'0h, pray begin. Grandfather," said Laurence; 
 "for I think, when we talk about old titnes, 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, find- 
 ing his young auditors unanimous in their petition, 
 the good old gentleman took up the narrative of 
 the historic chair at the point where he had dropt 
 it. 
 
 o 
 
CHAPTEK 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 Phipps. 
 This fortunate treasure-seeker, you will remember, 
 had come over from England, with King William's 
 commission to be Governor of Massachusetts. 
 Within the limits of this province were now in- 
 cluded the old colony of Plymouth, and the terri- 
 tories of Maine and Nova Scotia. Sir William 
 Phipps 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. Wintlirop, Endicott, Bradstreet, and the 
 rest of them, had been governors by the choice of 
 the people, without any interference of the king. 
 But henceforth the governor was to hold his sta- 
 tion solely by the king's appointment, and during 
 his pleasure j and the same was the case with the 
 
 82 
 
grandfather's chair. 83 
 
 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 Will- 
 iam Phipps," asked Laurence, ''if the choice of 
 governor had been left to them ? " 
 
 " He might probably have been a successful can- 
 didate," answered Grandfather; ''for his advent- 
 ures and military enterprises had gained him a 
 sort of renown, which always goes a great way 
 with the people. And he had many popular char- 
 acteristics, being a kind, warm-hearted man, not 
 ashamed of his low origin, nor haughty in his 
 present elevation. Soon after his arrival, he proved 
 that he did not blush to recognize his former asso- 
 ciates." 
 
 " How was that ? " inquired Charley. 
 
 "He made a grand festival at his new brick 
 house," said Grandfather, " and invited all the ship- 
 carpenters of Boston to be his guests. At the head 
 of the table, in our great chair, sat Sir William 
 Phipps himself, treating these hard-handed men as 
 his brethren, cracking jokes with them, and talk- 
 ing 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 Phipps 
 the ship-carpenter." 
 
 "An aristocrat need not be ashamed of the 
 
84 gbandfather's chair. 
 
 trade," observed Laurence ; " for the Czar Peter 
 the Great once served an apprenticeship to it.'^ 
 
 " Did Sir William Phipps make as good a gov- 
 ernor as he was a ship-carpenter ? " asked Charley. 
 
 "History says but little about his merits as a 
 ship-carpenter," answered Grandfather; "but, as 
 a governor, a great deal of fault was found with 
 him. Almost as soon as he assumed the govern- 
 ment, he became engaged in a very frightful busi- 
 ness, which might have perplexed a wiser and 
 better cultivated head than his. This was the 
 witchcraft delusion." 
 
 And here Grandfather gave his auditors such 
 details 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 inno- 
 cent persons, had originated in the wicked arts of 
 a few children. They belonged to the Rev. Mr. 
 Parris, minister of Salem. These children com- 
 plained of being pinched, and 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 daylight. 
 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 
 tumult and alarm. Prom the foundation of New 
 England, it had been the custom of the inhabitants. 
 
grandfather's chair. 85 
 
 in all matters of doubt and difficulty, to look to 
 their ministers for counsel. So they did now ; but, 
 unfortunately, the ministers and wise men were 
 more deluded 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 neigh- 
 bor, or most intimate friend, was not guilty of this 
 imaginary crime. The number of those who pre- 
 tended to be afflicted by witchcraft, grew daily more 
 numerous ; 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 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 habitations 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 
 Puritan governors. Mr. Willard, a pious minister 
 of Boston, was cried out upon as a wizard, in open 
 court. Mrs. Hale, the wife of the minister of 
 
86 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Beverly, was likewise accused. Philip English, a 
 rich merchant of Salem, found it necessary to take 
 flight, leaving his property and business in confu- 
 sion. But a short time afterwards, the Salem peo- 
 ple were glad to invite him back. 
 
 ^^ The boldest thing that the accusers did," con- 
 tinued Grandfather, "was to cry out against the 
 governor's own beloved wife. Yes ; the lady of Sir 
 William Phipps was accused of being a witch, and 
 of flying through the air to attend witch meetings. 
 When the governor heard this, he probably trem- 
 bled, 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 be- 
 came convinced that they had been led into a ter- 
 rible delusion. 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 people of 
 the saddest and most humiliating passage in our 
 history." 
 
 Grandfather then said, that the next remarkable 
 event, while Sir William Phipps remained in the 
 chair, was the arrival at Boston of an English fleet, 
 in 1693. It brought an army, which was intended 
 
grandfather's chair. 87 
 
 for the conquest of Canada. But a malignant dis- 
 ease, more fatal than the smallpox, 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 dread- 
 ful 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 Will- 
 iam Phipps quarrelled with the captain of an Eng- 
 lish 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 were carried to the king, and Sir 
 William Phipps 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. Had he lived 
 longer, he would probably have gone again in search 
 of sunken treasure. He had heard of a Spanish 
 ship, which was cast away in 1502, during the life- 
 time of Columbus. Bovadilla, Eoldan, 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 
 
88 grandfather's chair. 
 
 magnificent ideas the governor had! Only think 
 of recovering all that old treasure, which had lain 
 almost two centuries under the sea ! Methinks Sir 
 William Phipps 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 treas- 
 ure, which he Avas always dreaming about in his 
 lifetime." 
 
 "He was buried in one of the crowded cemeteries 
 of London," said Grandfather. " As he left no chil- 
 dren, his estate was inherited by his nephew, from 
 whom is descended the present Marquis of Nor- 
 manby. The noble Marquis is not aware, perhaps, 
 that the prosperity of his family originated in 
 the successful enterprise of a New England ship- 
 carpenter." 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 " At the death of Sir William Phipps/' proceeded 
 Grandfather, "onr chair was bequeathed to Mr. 
 Ezekiel 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 
 Charley. 
 
 "Yes, in his school," answered Grandfather; 
 " and we may safely say that it had never before 
 been regarded with such awful reverence — no, 
 not even Avhen 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 famous school-master." 
 
 And here Grandfather endeavored to give his 
 auditors 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 
 
 89 
 
90 grandfather's chair. 
 
 The Old Fashioned School. 
 
 Now imagine yourselves, my children, in Master 
 Ezekiel Cheever's school-room. It is a large, dingy 
 room, with a sanded floor, and is lighted by win- 
 dows 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 fire-places, 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 when we take our peep into 
 the school-room. See what great logs of wood 
 have been rolled into the fire-place, 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 scholars, mitil it gradually settles 
 upon the walls and ceiling. 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 
 sufiiciently felt, without being too intensely hot. 
 How stately the old chair looks, as if it remembered 
 its many famous occupants, but yet were conscious 
 
grandfather's chair. 91 
 
 that a greater man is sitting in it now! Do you 
 see the venerable school-master, severe in aspect, 
 with a black skull-cap 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 whisper, or even glance aside from his 
 book, while Master Cheever is on the lookout, 
 behind his spectacles ! For such offenders, if any 
 such there be, a rod of birch is hanging over the fire- 
 place, and a heavy ferule 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 smallclothes, with but- 
 tons at the knee. They look like so many grand- 
 fathers in their second childhood. These lads are 
 to be sent to Cambridge, and educated for the 
 learned professions. 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 hereafter be a doctor, and admin- 
 ister pills and potions, and stalk gravely through 
 
92 grandfather's chair. 
 
 life, perfumed with assafoetida. Another shall 
 wrangle at the bar, and fight his way to wealth and 
 honors, and in his declining age, shall be a worship- 
 ful member of his Majesty's council. A third — 
 and he is the Master's favorite — shall be a worthy 
 successor to the old Puritan ministers, 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 generations. 
 
 But, as they are merely school-boys now, their 
 business is to construe Virgil. Poor Virgil, whose 
 verses, which he took so much pains to polish, have 
 been mis-scanned, and mis-parsed, and mis-inter- 
 preted, by so many generations of idle school-boys ! 
 There, sit down, ye Latinists. Two or three of 
 you, I fear, are doomed to feel the master's ferule. 
 
 Next comes a class in Arithmetic. These boys 
 are to be the merchants, shop-keepers and me- 
 chanics, of a future period. Hitherto, they have 
 traded only in marbles and apples. Hereafter, 
 some will send vessels to England for broadcloths 
 and all sorts of manufactured 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 up- 
 heave the blacksmith's hammer, or drive the plane 
 over the carpenter's bench, or take the lapstone 
 and the awl, and learn the trade of shoe-making. 
 Many will follow the sea, and become bold, rough 
 sea-captains- 
 
"The Old Chair is now a Judgment-seat." 
 
grandfather's chair. 93 
 
 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 multiplication 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. Now 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 terrible birch-rod ! Short is the trial — 
 the sentence quickly passed — and now the judge 
 prepares to execute 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 twigs, 
 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 
 
94 grandfather's chair. 
 
 twelve o'clock. The master looks at his great sil- 
 ver watch, and then, with tiresome deliberation, 
 puts the ferule into his desk. The little multitude 
 await the word of dismissal, with almost irrepressi- 
 ble impatience. 
 
 " You are dismissed," says 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 trampling of feet ! — what a sense of recovered 
 freedom, 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 Arithmetic ? No ; 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 play-time 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 Thursday-lecture ; and ever since the settlement 
 of Massachusetts, there has been no school on Thurs- 
 day afternoons. Therefore, sport, boys, while you 
 may ; for the morrow cometh, with the birch-rod 
 and the ferule ; and 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 reluc- 
 tantly. 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. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 95 
 
 and himself a stranger in the workl. 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," s*id Charley, " I wonder whether 
 the boys did not use to upset the old chair, when 
 the school-master 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, promis- 
 ing to talk more about Master Cheever and his 
 scholars, some other evening. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Accordingly, the next evening, Grandfather re- 
 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 was 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 
 renowned Cotton Mather, minister of the Old North 
 Church in Boston. 
 
 ^^And author of the 'Magnalia,' Grandfather, 
 which we sometimes see you reading," said Laurence. 
 
 96 
 
grandfather's chair. 97 
 
 "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 Mather's singular mind. This huge volume, 
 however, 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 Phipps, 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 you would probably behold it crowded, 
 and piled, and heaped with books. There were 
 huge, ponderous folios and quartos, and little duo- 
 decimos, in English, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldaic, 
 and all other languages, that either originated at 
 the confusion of Babel, or have since come into use. 
 
 H 
 
98 grandfather's chair. 
 
 All these books, no doubt, were tossed about in 
 confusion, thus forming a visible emblem of the 
 manner 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 vol- 
 umes, were strown manuscript sermons, historical 
 tracts, and political pamphlets, all written in such 
 a queer, blind, 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 already 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, dark- 
 visaged person, in a minister's black gown, and 
 with a black-letter volume before him. 
 
 "It is difficult, my children," observed Grand- 
 father, " 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. Un- 
 doubtedly, he was a pious man. Often he kept 
 fasts ; and once, for three whole days, he allowed 
 himself not a morsel of food, but spent the time in 
 prayer and religious meditation. Many a livelong 
 
grandfather's chair. 99 
 
 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," an- 
 swered 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 among the leaves of 
 many of his books, as he turned them over, at mid- 
 night. He supposed that these unlovely 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 Cot- 
 ton 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 
 
100 grandfather's chair. 
 
 the frontier towns. Villages were sometimes burnt, 
 and the inhabitants slaughtered, within a day's ride 
 of Boston. The people 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 
 government. They frequently, in time of war, 
 undertook military expeditions against Acadia and 
 Canada, and sometimes besieged the fortresses, by 
 which those territories were defended. But the 
 most earnest wish of their hearts was, to take Que- 
 bec, and so get possession of the whole province of 
 Canada. Sir William Phipps had once attempted 
 it, but without success. 
 
 Fleets and soldiers were often sent from Eng- 
 land, to assist the colonists in their warlike under- 
 takings. In 1710, Port Eoyal, a fortress of Acadia, 
 was taken by the English. The next year, in the 
 month of June, a fleet, commanded by Admiral Sir 
 Hovenden Walker, arrived in Boston harbor. On 
 board of this fleet was the English General Hill, 
 with seven regiments of soldiers, who had been 
 lighting under the Duke of Marlborough, in Flan- 
 ders. The government of Massachusetts was 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. 
 
grandfather's chair. 101 
 
 there was now nothing but warlike bustle in the 
 streets of Boston. The drum and life, 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 regiments from New England 
 and New 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 pul- 
 pit, and when he kneeled down in the solitude of 
 his library, resting his face on our old chair. But 
 Providence 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 misfortune. 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." 
 
 " 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, fortifica- 
 
102 grandfather's chair. 
 
 tions, and all tlie 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 people, 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 
 Laurence, " 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 Han- 
 over 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 descended from the beheaded 
 King Charles and the banished King James, would 
 be restored to the throne. In that case, as the 
 Stuart family were Eoman Catholics, it was sup- 
 posed that they would attempt to establish their 
 own religion throughout the British dominions. 
 But the Elector of Hanover, and all his race, were 
 Protestants ; so that now the descendants of the old 
 Puritans were relieved from many fears and dis- 
 quietudes. 
 
grandfather's chair. 103 
 
 "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 
 rejoicings. 
 
CHAPTEE, V. 
 
 " Cotton Mather," continued Grandfather, "was 
 a bitter enemy to Governor Dudley ; and nobody 
 exulted 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 govern- 
 ing this province of Massachusetts Bay. 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 gov- 
 ernor so difficult and irksome. There was not the 
 
 104 
 
grandfather's chair. 105 
 
 same feeling towards the chief magistrate, now, 
 that had existed while he was chosen by the free 
 suffrages of the people. It was felt, that as the 
 king appointed the governor, and as he held his 
 office during the king's 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, " 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 Shute, 
 though a good-natured, well-meaning man, suc- 
 ceeded so ill with the people, that in 1722, he sud- 
 denly went away to England, and made complaint 
 to King George. In the mean time, Lieutenant- 
 Governor Dummer directed the affairs of the prov- 
 ince, 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," 
 replied 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 terrible calamity the small-pox was to our 
 forefathers. The history of the province, (and, of 
 
106 GRAHDFATHER^S CHAIIt. 
 
 course, the history of our chair,) would be incom- 
 plete, without particular mention of if 
 
 Accordingly, Grandfather told the children a 
 story, to which, for want of a better title, we shall 
 give that of 
 
 The Kejected Blessing. 
 
 One day, in 1721, Doctor Cotton Mather sat in 
 his library, reading a book that had been published 
 by the Eoyal Society of London. But, every few 
 moments, 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 ter- 
 rible disease, the small-pox, had recently made its 
 appearance in the town. Ever since the first settle- 
 ment of the country, this awful pestilence had come, 
 at intervals, and swept away multitudes of the in- 
 habitants. Whenever it commenced its ravages, noth- 
 ing seemed to stay its progress, until there were no 
 more victims for it to seize upon. Oftentimes, hun- 
 dreds 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 
 foreign parts, and came hither to die, and to be the 
 
grandfather's chair. 107 
 
 cause of many deaths. Sometimes, no doubt, it fol- 
 lowed in the train of the pompous governors, when 
 tliey came over from England. Sometimes, the dis- 
 ease lay hidden in the cargoes of ships, among silks 
 and brocades, and other costly merchandise, which 
 was imported for the rich people to wear. And, 
 sometimes, it started up, seemingly of its own ac- 
 cord ; 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 small-pox ! 
 let the patient be carried to the hospital." 
 
 And now, this dreadful sickness had shown 
 itself again in Boston. Cotton Mather was greatly 
 afflicted, for the sake of the whole province. He 
 had children, too, who were exposed to the danger. 
 At that very moment, he heard the voice of his 
 youngest son, for whom his heart was moved with 
 apprehension. 
 
 " 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 sub- 
 ject, 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 small-pox might be robbed of its 
 
108 grandfather's chair. 
 
 worst terrors. Such a method was known in 
 Greece. The physicians of Turkey, too, those 
 long-bearded Eastern sages, had been acquainted 
 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, clasp- 
 ing his hands, and looking up to Heaven, "it was 
 a merciful Providence that brought this book 
 under mine eye ! I will procure a consultation of 
 physicians, and will see whether this wondrous 
 Inoculation may not stay the progress of the De- 
 stroyer." 
 
 So he arose from Grandfather's chair, and went 
 out of the library. Near the door he met his son 
 Samuel, who seemed downcast and out of spirits. 
 The boy had heard, probably, that some of his 
 playmates were taken ill with the small-pox. But, 
 as his father looked cheerfully at him, Samuel took 
 courage, trusting that either the wisdom of so 
 learned* a minister would find some remedy for the 
 danger, or else that his prayers would secure pro- 
 tection 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 Bos- 
 ton. They were a very wise fraternity ; and their 
 huge wigs, and black dresses, and solemn visages, 
 made their wisdom appear even profounder than it 
 
grandfather's chair. 109 
 
 was. One after another, he acquainted them with 
 the discovery which he had hit upon. 
 
 But these 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 
 Hippocrates, and it was impossible that modern 
 physicians should be wiser than those old sages. 
 A second held up his hands in dumb astonishment 
 and horror, at the madness of what Cotton Mather 
 proposed 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 medi- 
 cal fraternity, that Cotton Mather would confine 
 his attention to people's souls, and leave the physi- 
 cians 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 finding, beyond a doubt, that 
 inoculation had rescued many from death, he re- 
 solved 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 
 Cotton Mather and Doctor Boylston. To hear 
 them talk, you would have supposed that these two 
 harmless and benevolent men had plotted the ruin 
 of the country. 
 
110 grandfather's chair. 
 
 The people, also, took the alarm. Many, who 
 thought themselves more pious than their neigh- 
 bors, contended, that, if Providence had ordained 
 them to, die of the small-pox, it was sinful to aim 
 at preventing it. The strangest reports were in 
 circulation. Some said that Doctor Boylston had 
 contrived a method for conveying the gout, rheu- 
 matism, sick headache, asthma, and all other 
 diseases, from one person to another, and diffus- 
 ing them through the whole community. Others 
 flatly afiirmed that the Evil One had got posses- 
 sion 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 small-pox, that he could not 
 walk the streets in peace. Whenever the venerable 
 form of the old minister, meagre and haggard with 
 fasts and vigils, was seen approaching, hisses were 
 heard, and shouts of derision, and scornful and 
 bitter laughter. 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 
 
grandfather's chair. Ill 
 
 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 
 compassionate man. Over the door of almost every 
 dwelling, a red flag was fluttering in the air. This 
 was the signal that the small-pox had entered the 
 house, and attacked 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 peo- 
 ple ? 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 re- 
 solved to save him, even if his house should be 
 burnt over his head. 
 
 "I will not be turned aside," said he. "My 
 
112 grandfather's chair. 
 
 townsmen shall see that 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, peradventure 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 per- 
 sons; and while hundreds died, who had caught 
 the contagion from the garments of the sick, almost 
 all were preserved, who followed the wise physi- 
 cian's advice. 
 
 But the people were not yet convinced of tlieir 
 mistake. One night, a destructive little instru- 
 ment, called a hand-grenade, was thrown into Cot- 
 ton Mather's window, and rolled under Grandfather's 
 chair. Jt was supposed to be filled with gun- 
 powder, 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 odor. But yet, if the wise 
 and good man can wait awhile, either the present 
 generation or posterity, will do him justice. So it 
 proved, in the case which we have been speaking of. 
 In after years, when inoculation was universally prac- 
 
grandfather's chair. 113 
 
 tised, 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 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 dis- 
 ease 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. Pea- 
 body, of Springfield. You will find it very enter- 
 taining and instructive ; but perhaps the writer is 
 somewhat too harsh in his judgment of this singular 
 man. He estimates him fairly, indeed, and under- 
 stands him well; but he unriddles his character 
 rather by acuteness than by sympathy. Now, 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, 
 telling 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 
 commission of governor. He was the first that had 
 
114 grandfather's chair. 
 
 been appointed since the departure of Colonel Sliute. 
 Governor Burnet took up liis residence with Mr. 
 Cooke, while the Province House was undergoing 
 repairs. During this period, he was always com- 
 plimented with a seat in G-randfatlier's chair ; and 
 so comfortable did he find it, that on removing to 
 the Province House, he could not bear to leave it 
 behind him. Mr. Cooke, therefore, requested his 
 acceptance of it. 
 
 " I should think," said Laurence, " that the peo- 
 ple would have petitioned the king always to ap- 
 point a native-born New Englander, to govern them." 
 
 " Undoubtedly it was a grievance," answered 
 Grandfather, " 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 natu- 
 ral affection for the country. The king generally 
 bestowed the governorships of the American colo- 
 nies upon needy noblemen, or hangers-on at court, 
 or disbanded officers. The people 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 re- 
 fusing to settle a fixed salary upon the governors. 
 It was thought better to pay them according to their 
 deserts." 
 
 " Did Governor Burnet work well for his money ?" 
 asked Charley. 
 
 Grandfather could not help smiling at the simplic- 
 
grandfathek's chair. 115 
 
 ity of Charley's question. Nevertheless, it put the 
 matter in a very plain point of view. 
 
 He then described the character of Governor 
 Burnet, representing him as a good scholar, pos- 
 sessed of much ability, and likewise of unspotted in- 
 tegrity. His 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 term of office was 
 wasted in quarrels with the legislature. 
 
 "I am afraid, children," said Grandfather, "that 
 Governor Burnet found but 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, 
 but of smooth velvet within. It was said that his 
 own character resembled that coat, for his outward 
 manner 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 rej)resentatives 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 Clar^ observed, she had been 
 
116 grandfather's chair. 
 
 sleeping from the time of Sir Hovenden Walker's 
 expedition against Quebec, until the death of Gov- 
 ernor 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 hap- 
 pened 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 
 introduced from England into the provinces. The 
 simplicity of the good old Puritan times was fast 
 disappearing. This was partly owing to the in- 
 creasing number and wealth of the inhabitants, and 
 to the additions 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 representa- 
 tives of the people, and therefore their way of 
 living had probably been marked by a popular 
 simplicity. But now, as they represented the per- 
 il? 
 
118 grandfather's chair. 
 
 son of the king, they thought it necessary to pre- 
 serve the dignity of their station, by the practice 
 of high and gorgeous ceremonials. And, besides, 
 the profitable offices under the government were 
 filled by men who had lived in London, and had 
 there contracted fashionable and luxurious habits 
 of living, which they would not now lay aside. 
 The wealthy people of the province imitated 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 par- 
 ticular 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 Grand- 
 father. "Our ancestors not only bought 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 expenses 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 
 kitten?," 
 
grandfather's chair. 119 
 
 "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, ray little Alice," 
 said Grandfather, "I wish you could have seen 
 what splendid 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 things. And they used to wear hooped 
 petticoats, of such enormous size that it was quite 
 |[^journey to walk round them." 
 
 " And how did the gentlemen dress ? " asked 
 Charley. 
 
 " 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 splen- 
 did. Sometimes, the whole waistcoat, which came 
 down almost to the knees, was made of gold bro- 
 cade." 
 
 " 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 Ramilies, the Feather-top, and the Full-bot- 
 tom! Their three-cornered hats were laced with 
 
120 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR. 
 
 gold or silver. They had shining buckles at the 
 knees of their smallclothes, 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 
 Charley. 
 
 " 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 
 recommended to our friend Charley. 
 
 Grandfather smiled at the idea of Charley's 
 sturdy little figure in such a grotesque caparison. 
 He then went on with the history of the chair, and 
 told the children, that, in 1730, King George the 
 Second appointed Jonathan Belcher to be Governor 
 of Massachusetts, in place of the deceased Gov- 
 ernor Burnet. Mr. Belcher was a native of the prov- 
 ince, 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 
 company, as when it stood in the Earl of Lincoln's 
 hall. Wherefore, as Governor Belcher was fond of 
 splendor, he employed a skilful artist to beautify 
 
grandfather's chair. 121 
 
 the chair. This was done by polishing and varnish- 
 ing 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 
 example, that there is almost always an old and 
 time-worn substance under all the glittering show 
 of new invention." 
 
 " Grandfather, I cannot see any of the gilding," 
 remarked 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 
 adventures 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 remained 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 what- 
 
122 gkandfather's chair. 
 
 ever 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 Avere nomi- 
 nally valued at three pence and upwards. The 
 value of these bills kept continually sinking, be- 
 cause 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 dis- 
 orders of the circulating medium were a 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 Bel- 
 cher was secretly endeavoring to establish the Epis- 
 copal 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 upon such an attempt. Great exertions were 
 made, to induce the king to remove the governor. 
 Accordingly, in 1740, he was compelled -to resign 
 his office, and Grandfather's chair into the bargain, 
 to Mr. Shirley. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "William Shirley," said Grandfather, "had 
 come from England a few years before, and begun 
 to practise law in Boston. You will think, per- 
 haps, that, as he had been a lawyer, the new gov- 
 ernor used to sit in our great chair, reading heavy 
 law-books from morning to night. On the contrary, 
 he was as stirring and active a governor as Massa- 
 chusetts ever had. Even Sir William Phipps hardly 
 equalled him. The first year or two of his adminis- 
 tration 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 Louisbourg. 
 This was a fortified city, on the Island of Cape 
 Breton, near Nova Scotia. Its walls were of im- 
 mense 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 
 
 123 
 
124 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Shirley's intentions, lie would have sent all tlie 
 ships he could muster, to protect it." 
 
 As the siege of Louisbourg was one of the most 
 remarkable events that ever the inhabitants of New 
 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 descrip- 
 tion 
 
 The Provincial Muster. 
 
 The expedition against Louisbourg first began 
 to be thought of in the month of January. From 
 that time, the governor's chair was continually sur- 
 rounded by counsellors, representatives, clergymen, 
 captains, pilots, and all manner of people, with 
 whom he consulted 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 pos- 
 session of all the old cannon, powder and balls, 
 rusty swords and muskets, and everything else 
 that would be serviceable in killing Frenchmen. 
 Drums were beaten in all the villages of Massachu- 
 setts, to enlist soldiers for the service. Messages 
 were sent to the other governors of New England, 
 and to New York and Pennsylvania, entreating 
 them to unite in this crusade against the French. 
 All these provinces agreed to give what assistance 
 they could. 
 
grandfather's chair. 125 
 
 But there was one very important thing to be 
 decided. 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 Puritans had always kept their 
 weapons bright, and were never destitute of war- 
 like captains, who were skilful in assault or de- 
 fence. But the swords of their descendants had 
 grown rusty by disuse. There was nobody in New 
 England that knew anything about sieges, or any 
 other regular fighting. The only persons at all 
 acquainted with warlike business were a few el- 
 derly men, who had hunted Indians through the 
 underbrush of the forest, in old Governor Bum- 
 mer'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! Bub-a-dub-dub ! Kub-a-dub-dub ! The 
 rattle of drums, beaten out of all manner of time, 
 was heard above every other sound. 
 
 Nothing now was so valuable as arms, of what- 
 ever style and fashion they might be. The bellows 
 
126 grandfather's chair. 
 
 blew, and the hammer clanged continually upon 
 the anvil, while the blacksmiths were repairing the 
 broken weapons of other wars. Doubtless, some of 
 the soldiers lugged out those enormous, heavy mus- 
 kets, 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 
 cannon. Old cannon, with touch-holes almost as 
 big as their muzzles, were looked upon as inesti- 
 mable treasures. Pikes, which, perhaps, had been 
 handled by Miles Standish's soldiers, now made 
 their appearance again. Many a young man ran- 
 sacked the garret, and brought forth his great- 
 grandfather's sword, corroded with rust, and stained 
 with the blood of King Philip's war. 
 
 Never had there been such 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 footsteps of the recruits that marched 
 behind. 
 
 And now the army began to gather into Boston. 
 Tall, lanky, awkward fellows came in squads, 
 and companies, and regiments, swaggering 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- 
 
" And now tue Akmv began to gathek into Boston." 
 
grandfather's chair. 127 
 
 fields, from the clearing in the forest, from the 
 blacksmith's forge, from the carpenter'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, 
 shouting behind the drums. The whole town — 
 the whole land — was on fire with war. 
 
 After the arrival of the troops, they were prob- 
 ably reviewed upon the Common. We may imag- 
 ine Governor Shirley and General Pepperell riding 
 slowly along the line, while the drummers beat 
 strange old tunes, like psalm-tunes, and all the 
 officers and soldiers 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 Louisbourg, to assist the 
 provincial army. So, now, after all this bustle of 
 
128 grandfather's chair. 
 
 preparation, the town and province were left in 
 stillness and repose. 
 
 But stillness and repose, at such a time of 
 anxious expectation, are hard to bear. The hearts 
 of the old people and women, sank Avithin them, 
 when they reflected what perils they had sent their 
 sons, and husbands, and brothers, to encounter. 
 The boys loitered heavily to school, missing the 
 rub-a-dub-dub, and the 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 worship, the burthen of his petition was 
 for the safety of those dear ones, who were fighting 
 under the walls of Louisbourg. 
 
 Governor Shirley, all this time, was probably in 
 an ecstasy of impatience. He could not sit still a 
 moment. He found no quiet, not even in Grand- 
 father's chair, but hurried, to and fro, and up and 
 down the staircase of the Province House. Now, 
 he mounted to the cupola, and looked seaward, 
 straining his eyes to discover if there were a sail 
 upon the horizon. Now, he hastened down the 
 stairs, and stood beneath the portal, on the red 
 free-stone steps, to receive some mud-bespattered 
 courtier, from whom he hoped to hear tidings of 
 the army. — A few weeks after the departure of the 
 troops. Commodore Warren sent a small vessel to 
 Boston with two French prisoners. One of them 
 
grandfather's chair. 129 
 
 was Monsieur Bouladrie, who had been commander 
 of a battery, outside of the walls of Louisbourg. 
 The other was the Marquis de la Maison Forte, cap- 
 tain of a Erench frigate, which had been taken by 
 Commodore Warren's fleet. These prisoners as- 
 sured Governor Shirley, that the fortifications of 
 Louisbourg 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 daybreak, 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 morn- 
 ing 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 ! Louisbourg has surrendered ! Huzza ! 
 
 "O Grandfather, how glad I should have been 
 to live in those times ! " cried Charley. " And 
 what reward did the king give to General Pep- 
 perell and Governor Shirley ? " 
 
 " He made Pepperell a baronet ; so that he was 
 
 K 
 
130 grandfather's chair. 
 
 now to be called Sir William Pepperell/' replied 
 Grandfather. "He likewise appointed both Pep- 
 perell and Shirley to be colonels in the royal army. 
 These rewards, and higher ones, were well de- 
 served ; for this was the greatest triumph that the 
 English met with, in the whole course of that war. 
 General Pepperell became a man of great fame. 
 I have seen a full-length portrait of him, represent- 
 ing him in a splendid scarlet uniform, standing 
 before the walls of Louisbourg, while several bombs 
 are falling through the air." 
 
 "But did the country gain any real good by 
 the conquest of Louisbourg ? " asked Laiirence. 
 "Or was all the benefit reaped by Pepperell and 
 Shirley ? " 
 
 "The English Parliament," said 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 hun- 
 dred casks of copper coin, were brought from Eng- 
 land to Boston. The whole amount was about a 
 million of dollars. Twenty-seven carts and trucks 
 carried this money from the wharf to the pro- 
 vincial treasury. Was not this a pretty liberal 
 reward ? " 
 
 "The mothers of the young men, who were 
 killed at the siege of Louisbourg, would not have 
 thought it so," said Laurence. 
 
 "No, Laurence," rejoined Grandfather; "and 
 every warlike achievement involves an amount 
 
grandfather's chair. 131 
 
 of physical and moral evil, for wliich all the gold 
 in the Spanish mines would not be the slightest 
 recompense. But we are to consider that this 
 siege was one of the occasions on wliich the colo- 
 nists tested their ability for war, and thus were 
 prepared for the great contest of the Revolution. 
 In that j)oint of view, the valor of our forefathers 
 was its own reward." 
 
 Grandfather went on to say, that the success of 
 the expedition against Louisbourg induced Shir- 
 ley and Pepperell to form a scheme for conquering 
 Canada. This plan, however, was not carried into 
 execution. 
 
 In the year 1746, great terror was excited by 
 the arrival of a formidable French fleet upon the 
 coast. It was commanded by the Duke d'Anville, 
 and consisted of forty ships of w^ar, besides vessels 
 with soldiers on board. With this force the French 
 intended to retake Louisbourg, 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'Anville is said to have poisoned himself in 
 despair. The officer next in command threw him- 
 self upon his sword and perished. Thus deprived 
 of their commanders, the remainder of the ships 
 returned to France. This was as great a deliver- 
 ance for New England as that which old England 
 had experienced in the days of Queen Elizabeth, 
 
132 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 con- 
 duct of the British Commodore Knowles, who had 
 impressed some of their fellow-citizens, that several 
 thousands of them surrounded the council-chamber, 
 and threw stones and brick-bats into the windows. 
 The governor 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 Commo- 
 dore 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 op- 
 pressive measures against their colonial brethren." 
 
 Peace being declared between France and Eng- 
 land in 1748, the governor had now an opportunity 
 to sit at his ease in Grandfather's chair. Such 
 repose, however, appears not to have suited his 
 disposition ; for, in the following year, he went to 
 England, and thence was despatched to France on 
 public business. Meanwhile, as Shirley had not 
 resigned his office, Lieutenant-Governor Phipps 
 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 semicircle round Grand- 
 father's chair. They had been joyons, 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. 
 
 133 
 
134 grandfather's chair. 
 
 The happiness of former days was a possession for- 
 ever. And there was something in the mingled 
 sorrow of his lifetime, that became akin to happi- 
 ness, after being long treasured in the depths of his 
 heart. There it underwent a change, and grew 
 more precious than pure gold. 
 
 And now came the children, somewhat aweary 
 Avith their wild play, and sought the quiet enjoy- 
 ment of Grandfather's talk. The good old gentle- 
 man 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 day long, did these children desire to hear his 
 sober talk ? * Oh, then, old Grandfather 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 hearth-rug, 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 children, as if she felt herself very sympathetic 
 with them all. A loud purr, like the singing of a 
 tea-kettle, 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. 
 
grandfather's chair. 135 
 
 " Does Pussy want to hear me ? " said Grand- 
 father, 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, Louisbourg, which the New 
 Englanders had been at so much pains to take, was 
 restored to the king of France. 
 
 The French were afraid that, unless their colonies 
 should be better defended than heretofore, another 
 war might deprive them of the whole. Almost as 
 soon as peace was declared, therefore, they began 
 to build strong fortifications in the interior of North 
 America. It was strange to behold these warlike 
 castles, 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 
 ramparts of Ticonderoga, stone piled on stone, bris- 
 tling with cannon, and the white flag of France 
 floating above. There were similar fortifications on 
 Lake Ontario, 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 com- 
 pletely to hem them in. The king of England con- 
 
136 grandfather's chair. 
 
 sidered the building of these forts as a sufficient 
 cause of war, which was accordingly commenced in 
 1754. 
 
 " Governor Shirley/' said Grandfather, " had 
 returned 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 com- 
 mand in the English forces." 
 
 " And what did Sir William Pepperell do ? " 
 asked Charley. 
 
 " He staid at home," said Grandfather, " and was 
 general of the militia. The veteran regiments of 
 the English army, which were now sent across the 
 Atlantic, 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. I cannot even allow myself to de- 
 scribe the bloody defeat of General Braddock, near 
 the sources of the Ohio River, in 1755. But I 
 must not omit to mention, that when the English 
 general was mortally wounded, and his army routed, 
 the remains of it Avere preserved by the skill and 
 valor of George Washington." 
 
 At the mention of this illustrious name, the 
 
grandfather's chair. 187 
 
 children started, as if a sudden sunliglit liad 
 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 
 interesting than the removal of the inhabitants of 
 Acadia. From the first settlement of this ancient 
 province of the French, in 1604, until the present 
 time, its people could scarcely ever know what 
 kingdom held dominion over them. They were a 
 peaceful race, taking no delight in warfare, and 
 caring nothing for military renown. And yet, in 
 every war, their region was infested with iron- 
 hearted soldiers, both French and English, who 
 fought one another for the privilege 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 
 portion 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 
 Winslow. The inhabitants were accused of supply- 
 ing 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 
 
138 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 
 number. A considerable part of them were made 
 prisoners, and transported to the English colonies. 
 All their dwellings and churches were burnt, their 
 cattle 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 Massachusetts ; 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 seashore. Very sad were 
 they, likewise, 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 139 
 
 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 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 
 lamentable 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 voy- 
 age, to meet their beloved ones at its close. Now, 
 they began to feel that they were separated for- 
 ever. 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 re- 
 
140 grandfath*:r's chair. 
 
 grettecl that they had not died before their exile ; 
 for even the English would not have been so piti- 
 less 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 curi- 
 osity and inquisitiveness of the New England peo- 
 ple would naturally lead them into the midst of 
 the poor Acadians. Prying busybodies thrust their 
 heads into the circle, wherever two or three of the 
 exiles were conversing 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 com- 
 fortable, and where their husbands and children 
 would be with them at nightfall. 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 
 which was abhorred by. the descendants of the 
 Puritans — 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 foreigners. At first they danced and ca- 
 pered around them, full of merriment and mis- 
 chief. But the despair of the Acadians soon had 
 its effect upon these thoughtless lads, and melted 
 them into tearful sympathy. 
 
 At a little distance from the throng, might be 
 
- grandfather's chair. 141 
 
 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 sel- 
 dom moved, except by the roughness of the pave- 
 ment, 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 com- 
 panionship. 
 
 Whither did they go ? I imagine them wander- 
 ing about the streets, telling the town's-people, in 
 outlandish, 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, 
 
142 grandfather's chair. 
 
 whicli then stood in the vicinity of Hanover Street 
 and the North Square. Others were applicants at 
 the humble wooden tenenientSj where dwelt the 
 petty shop-keepers 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 hunger. 
 
 Perhaps some of the Acadians, in their aimless 
 wanderings 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 passage everywhere. 
 Let us suppose, then, that they mounted the flight 
 of steps, and passed into the Province House. 
 Making their way into one of the apartments, 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, reflect- 
 ing 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 143 
 
 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 tri- 
 umph, 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 moralize. 
 
 " Grandfather," cried Laurence, with emotion 
 trembling 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 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 
 brimming full of tears, now burst forth a-sobbing ; 
 for Grandfather had touched her sympathies more 
 than 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, ener- 
 getically. " Why did not they fight for the coun- 
 try where they were born ? Then, if the worst had 
 happened to them they could only have been killed 
 and buried there. They would not have been exiles 
 then ! " 
 
 " Certainly, their lot was as hard as death," said 
 Grandfather. "All that could be done for them, 
 
144 grandfather's chair. 
 
 in the English provinces, was to send them to the 
 almshouses, or bind them out to task-masters. And 
 this was the fate of persons, who had possessed a 
 comfortable 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 
 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. 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 language of their ancestors, and 
 probably retain no tradition of their misfortunes. 
 But, methinks, if I were an American poet, I would 
 choose Acadia for the subject of my song." 
 
 Since Grandfather first spoke these words, the 
 most famous of American poets has drawn sweet tears 
 from all of us, by his beautiful poem of Evangeline. 
 
 And now, having thrown a gentle gloom around 
 the Thanksgiving fireside, by a story that made 
 the children feel the blessing of a secure and peace- 
 ful hearth. Grandfather put off the other events of 
 the Old French War till the next evening. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 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. 
 
 "Our chair," said Grandfather, "stood all this 
 time in the Province House. But Governor Shir- 
 ley had seldom an opportunity to repose within its 
 arms. He was leading his troops through the forest, 
 or sailing 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 French woman 
 can be quiet enough to sit in a chair. The people 
 of Massachusetts were never fond of Governor Shir- 
 ley's young French wife. They had a suspicion 
 that she betrayed the military plans of the English 
 to the generals of the French armies." 
 L 145 
 
146 grandfather's chair. 
 
 " And was it true ? " inquired Clara. 
 
 " Probably not," said Grandfather. " But the 
 mere suspicion did Shirley a great deal of harm. 
 Partly, perhaps, 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 
 England. 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 
 supposed to have marched in person to the Old 
 French War. But Grandfather delayed its momen- 
 tous history, while he touched briefly upon some of 
 the bloody battles, sieges and onslaughts, the tidings 
 of which kept continually coming to the ears of the 
 old inhabitants 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 forest, and actually drove the bears and 
 other Avild beasts to the more cultivated portion of 
 the country in the vicinity of the seaports. 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 galloping 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 147 
 
 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, 
 pilfered from the poor Baron, is still in existence, 
 and still marks each moment of time, without com- 
 plaining 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 AVilliam 
 Henry, in the following year. But the greatest mis- 
 fortune 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 soldiers 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 London, 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. 
 
148 grandfather's chair. 
 
 But the French general, the famous Marquis de 
 Montcalm, possessed a great genius for war, and had 
 something 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 skil- 
 ful soldier. A plan was now formed for accomplish- 
 ing that object, which had so long been the darling 
 wish of the New Englanders, and which their fathers 
 had so many times attempted. This was the con- 
 quest 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 On- 
 tario, and proceed to Montreal. The second, at the 
 head of which was Sir Jeffrey Amherst himself, was 
 destined to reach the E,iver 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 splen- 
 did 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 ad- 
 venture was achieved in the darkness of night. At 
 daybreak, tidings were carried to the Marquis de 
 
grandfather's chair. 149 
 
 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 soldiers, 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 lifted 
 his languid head. "Who flee?" he inquired. 
 " The French," replied an ofiicer. " Then I die 
 satisfied ! " 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 jDcaceful thoughts, and 
 gentle spirit. " His lifeblood 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 
 
150 grandfather's chair. 
 
 blood-stained field of victory, arose to his imagina- 
 tion ; and yet, lie 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, how- 
 ever, was not signed until 1763. 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 Eng- 
 land had gained her wish. Canada was taken ! " 
 
 *' And now there was nobody to fight with, but 
 the Indians," said Charley. 
 
 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 procla- 
 mation, 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, 
 
grandfather's chair. 151 
 
 Seven times, as the successive monarchs of Brit- 
 ain ascended the throne, the trumpet-peal of procla- 
 mation had been heard by those who sat in our 
 venerable chair. But when the next king put on 
 his father's crown, no trumpet-peal proclaimed it 
 to New England ! Long before that day, America 
 had shaken off the royal government. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Now that Grandfather had fought through the 
 Old French War, in which our chair made no very 
 distinguished 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 con- 
 siderable 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 company of cadets. But, on the whole, 
 he probably concluded that it was more befitting a 
 governor to remain quietly in our chair, reading the 
 newspapers and official 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 gov- 
 ernor, when the utmost harmony was required, in 
 order to defend the country against the French. 
 
 152 
 
grandfather's chair. 153 
 
 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." 
 
 " He might have taken it to South Carolina," 
 observed Clara. 
 
 "It appears to me," said Laurence, giving the 
 reign to his fancy, "that the fate of this ancient 
 chair was, somehow or other, mysteriously con- 
 nected 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 Grand- 
 father to tell stories about." 
 
 " And Grandfather is very glad of such a com- 
 panion, and such a theme," said the old gentle- 
 man, with a smile. "Well, Laurence, if our oaken 
 chair, like the wooden Palladium of Troy, was 
 connected with the country's fate, yet there ap- 
 pears to have been no supernatural obstacle to 
 its removal from the Province House. In 1760, 
 Sir Francis Bernard, who had been governor of 
 New Jersey, was appointed to the same office in 
 Massachusetts. He looked at the old chair, and 
 
154 
 
 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 chiklren 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 Gov- 
 ernor Belcher. Most of the gilding was worn off 
 by the frequent scourings 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 tatters, 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 lordship, 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 
 Hutchinson, lieutenant-governor of the province, 
 was told of Sir Francis Bernard's design. Tliis 
 gentleman was more familiar with the history of 
 New England than any other man alive. He knew 
 all the adventures and vicissitudes through which 
 
Thk Pkovinck House. 
 
grandfather's chair. 155 
 
 the old chair had passed, and could have told, as 
 accurately as your own Grandfather, who were the 
 personages that had occupied it. Often, while 
 visiting at the Province House, he had eyed the 
 chair with admiration, and felt a longing 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 possible, to its original aspect, such as it had 
 appeared, when it was first made out of the Earl 
 of Lincoln's 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 cushion. When all was com- 
 pleted 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. Hutchin- 
 son ! " exclaimed Laurence. " And, no doubt, the 
 dim figures of the former possessors of the chair 
 flitted 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 com- 
 
156 grandfather's chai»r. 
 
 position never came from any man's pen. However, 
 he was accurate, at least, though far from possess- 
 ing 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, sit- 
 ting in an evening reverie by his fireside, 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 republi- 
 can government, the purest that the world had 
 seen, with which the colony began its existence. 
 While reverencing the grim and stern old Puritans 
 as the founders of his native land, he would not 
 wish to recall them from their graves, nor to 
 awaken again that king-resisting spirit, which he 
 imagined to be laid asleep with them forever. 
 Winthrop, Dudley, Bellingham, 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 republican governor 
 in their ancient Chair of State ! 
 
grandfather's chair. 157 
 
 Coming down to the epoch of the second charter, 
 Hutchinson thought of the ship-carpenter Phipps, 
 springing from the lowest of the people, and attain- 
 ing to the loftiest station in the land. But he 
 smiled to perceive that this governor's example 
 would awaken no turbulent ambition in the lower 
 orders, for it was a king's gracious boon alone that 
 made the ship-carpenter a ruler. Hutchinson re- 
 joiced 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 authority 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 traditionary 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, 
 probably, he saw visions of hereditary rank, for 
 himself and other aristocratic colonists. He saw 
 the fertile fields of New England portioned out 
 among a few great landholders, and descending by 
 entail from generation 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 no- 
 where but among the red embers of the fire, before 
 
158 grandfather's chair. 
 
 which, he was sitting. And, just as he had con- 
 structed 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, sup- 
 ported 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." 
 
PART III. 
 
 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 
 windows. The riotous blast shook the casement, 
 as if a strong man were striving to force his en- 
 trance 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 cus- 
 tomary 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 un- 
 worthy of such a dignified and venerable chair, it 
 suddenly stood still. But soon it began to dance 
 anew, 
 
 159 
 
160 grandfather's c^air. 
 
 " Only see how Grandfather's chair is dancing ! " 
 cried little Alice. 
 
 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 
 Grandfather had given him for a New Year's gift. 
 As all sleds, now-a-days, must have a name, the one 
 in question had been honored with the title of 
 Grandfather's Chair, which was painted in golden 
 
grandfather's chair. 161 
 
 letters, on each of the sides. Charley greatly ad- 
 mired 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 of engraved portraits, representing the 
 features of eminent and famous people of all coun- 
 tries. Among them Laurence found several who 
 had formerly occupied our chair, or been connected 
 with its adventures. While Grandfather walked 
 to and fro across the room, the imaginative boy 
 was gazing at the historic chair. He endeavored 
 to summon up the portraits 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 
 existence, to-day," said Laurence. " We must make 
 haste, or it will have a new history to be told before 
 we finish the old one." 
 
 " Yes, my children," replied Grandfather, with a 
 smile and a sigh, " another year has been added to 
 those of the two centuries, and upward, which have 
 passed since the Lady Arbella brought this chair 
 over from England. It is three times as old as 
 your Grandfather ; 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." 
 
 M 
 
162 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 peeping over the back of the chair, and 
 smiling at the group of auditors, with a sort of lion- 
 like complaisance. 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 " Charley, my boy," said Grandfather, " do you 
 remember who was the last occupant of the chair ? " 
 
 ^'It was Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson," an- 
 swered Charley. " Sir Francis Bernard, the new 
 governor, had given him the chair, instead of put- 
 ting it away in the garret of the Province House. 
 And when we took leave of Hutchinson, 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 situ- 
 ation and character of the New 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 
 triumphant close. 
 
 The people loved and reverenced the king of 
 England, even more than if the ocean had not rolled 
 its waves between him and them j for, at the dis- 
 
 163 
 
164 ♦ grandfather's chair. 
 
 tance of three tliousand miles, they could not dis- 
 cover 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. Throughout the war, the 
 American colonists 'had fought side by side with 
 the soldiers of Old England; and nearly thirty 
 tliousand 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 cen- 
 tury 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 English colonies were growing 
 so populous and powerful, that they might have 
 felt fully able to protect themselves without any 
 help from England. 
 
 There were thoughtful and sagacious men, who 
 began to doubt, whether a great country like Amer- 
 ica, would always be content to remain under the 
 government of an islaud three thousand miles away. 
 This was the more doubtful, because the English 
 Parliament had long ago made laws which were 
 
grandfather's chair. 165 
 
 intended to be very beneficial to England, at the 
 expense of America. By these laws, the colonists 
 were forbidden 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 groAvn, their first thought 
 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 Avas 
 pretended, that this debt had been contracted for 
 the defence 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 
 declared illegal and void. Now, in order to get 
 a blank sheet of paper, with the king's stamp upon 
 
166 geandfather's chair. 
 
 it, people were obliged to pay three pence more 
 than the actual value of the paper. And this extra 
 sum of three pence was a tax, and was to be paid 
 into the king's treasury.'' 
 
 ^^ I am sure three pence was not worth quarrel- 
 ling about ! " remarked Clara. 
 
 " It was not for three pence, nor for any amount 
 of money, that America quarrelled with England," 
 replied 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 pockets, unless they freely gave it. And, 
 rather than pay three pence 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 
 understand how it was. If they had quietly paid 
 the tax of three pence, they would have ceased to 
 be freemen, 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 
 moment the English Parliament had passed this 
 
grandfather's chair. 167 
 
 oppressive act. The former history of our chair, 
 my children, has given you some idea of what a 
 harsh, unyielding, stern set of men the old Puri- 
 tans were. For a good many years back, however, 
 it had seemed as if these characteristics were dis- 
 appearing. 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 an humble and loyal 
 subject of the crown; the next instant, 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 dele- 
 gates from every colony should meet in Congress. 
 Accordingly nine colonies, both northern and south- 
 ern, 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 the grievances of the colonists. 
 They sent an humble petition to the king, and a 
 memorial to the Parliament, beseeching that the 
 
168 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Stamp Act might be repealed. This was all that 
 the delegates had it in their power to do." 
 
 " They might as well have staid at home, then," 
 said Charley. 
 
 "By no means," replied Grandfather. "It was 
 a most important and memorable event — this first 
 coming together of the American people, by their 
 representatives from the north and south. If Eng- 
 land had been wise, she would have trembled at the 
 first word that was spoken in such an assembly ! " 
 
 These remonstrances and petitions, as Grand- 
 father observed, were the work of grave, thought- 
 ful, and prudent men. Meantime, the young and 
 hot-headed people went to work in their own way. 
 It is probable that the petitions of Congress would 
 have had little or no effect on the British states- 
 men, if the violent deeds of the American people 
 had not shown how much excited the people were. 
 Liberty Tree was soon heard of in England. 
 
 " What was Liberty Tree ? " inquired Clara. 
 
 " It was an old elm tree," answered Grandfather, 
 "which stood near the corner of Essex Street, 
 opposite the Boylston market. Under the spread- 
 ing branches of this great tree, the people used to 
 assemble, whenever they wished to express their 
 feelings and opinions. Thus, after a while, it 
 seemed as if the liberty of the country was con- 
 nected with Liberty Tree." 
 
 "It was glorious fruit for a tree to bear," re- 
 marked Laurence. 
 
grandfather's chair. 169 
 
 "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 smallclothes ; 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 Amer- 
 ica. The other was meant for the efiigy of Andrew 
 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. Oli- 
 ver would have made a great deal of money by this 
 business. But the people frightened him so much 
 by hanging him in effigy, and afterwards by break- 
 ing 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 Hutchinson," contin- 
 ued 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 him- 
 self 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 according 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 
 dislike to him." 
 
 " I should think," said Laurence, '^ as Mr. Hutch- 
 inson had written the history of our Puritan fore- 
 fathers, he would have known what the temper of 
 the people was, and so have taken care not to wrong 
 them." 
 
 "He trusted in the might of the king of Eng- 
 land," replied Grandfather, " and thought himself 
 safe under the shelter of the throne. If no dispute 
 had arisen between the king and the people, Hutch- 
 inson would have had the character of a wise, good, 
 
 170 
 
grandfather's chair. 171 
 
 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 
 spirit was now aroused among the inhabitants. 
 Grandfather related a passage from history, which 
 we shall call 
 
 The Hutchinson 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 dis- 
 played a carved representation of the royal arms. 
 The gilded vane of the cupola glittered in the 
 blaze. The kindling of this bonfire was the well- 
 known signal for the populace of Boston to assem- 
 ble in the street. 
 
 Before the tar-barrels, of which the bonfire was 
 made, were half burnt 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 blaz- 
 ing bonfire, you might hear them speaking bitter 
 words against the high officers of the province. 
 Governor Bernard, Hutchinson, Oliver, Storey, 
 
172 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Hallowell, and other men whom King George de- 
 lighted 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 aspect, which was 
 made more terrible by the flickering blaze of the 
 bonfire. 
 
 "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 Hutch- 
 inson in 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 ! No 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 mob, 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 173 
 
 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 shout- 
 ing his name, Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson sat 
 quietly in Grandfather's chair, unsuspicious of the 
 evil that was about to fall upon his head. His be- 
 loved 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 throughout the day. 
 
 Perhaps, in the enjoyment of his home, he had 
 forgotten all about the Stamp Act, and scarcely 
 remembered 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 furni- 
 ture. On the walls hung the pictures of Hutchin- 
 son's ancestors, 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 
 
174 grandfather's chair. 
 
 of the room, thrown carelessly upon a chair, were 
 the scarlet robes of the chief justice. This high 
 office, as well as those of lieutenant-governor, coun- 
 sellor, and judge of probate, was filled by Hutch- 
 inson. 
 
 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, and looked up affectionately into her father's 
 face, rejoicing 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 distant sound. 
 
 " What is the matter, my child ? ^' inquired 
 Hutchinson. "Father, do you not hear a tumult 
 in the street ? " said she. 
 
 The lieutenant-governor listened. But his ears 
 were duller than those of his daughter ; he could 
 hear nothing more terrible than the sound of a 
 summer breeze, sighing among the tops of the elm 
 trees. 
 
 " No, foolish child ! " he replied, playfully pat- 
 ting 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 peace- 
 ful meditations, and again forgot that there were 
 any troubles in the world. But his family were 
 
grandfather's chair. 175 
 
 alarmed, and could not help straining their ears 
 to catch the slightest sound. More and more dis- 
 tinctly 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. 
 HallowelPs, and have made themselves drunk with 
 the liquors in his cellar and now they are coming 
 hither, as wild as so many tigers. Flee, lieutenant- 
 governor, for your life ! for your life ! " 
 
 ^' Father, dear father, make haste," shrieked his 
 children. 
 
 But Hutchinson 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 assault him in his peaceful home. He was 
 one of King George's chief officers; and it would 
 be an insult and outrage upon the king himself, if 
 the lieutenant-governor should suffer any wrong. 
 
 " Have no fears on my account," said he ; " I am 
 perfectly safe. The king' s name shall be my pro- 
 tection." 
 
 Yet he bade his family retire into one of the 
 neighboring houses. His daughter would have re- 
 mained, 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 
 
176 grandfather's chair. 
 
 were roaring for its prey. He crept softly to the 
 window. There he beheld an immense concourse 
 of people, filling all the street, and rolling onward 
 to his house. It was like a tempestuous flood, that 
 had swelled beyond 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 terrible than the wrath 
 of a king. 
 
 That was a moment when a loyalist and an aris- 
 tocrat, like Hutchinson, might have learned how 
 powerless are kings, nobles, and great men, when 
 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 under- 
 stood this lesson, and remembered it, he need not, 
 in after years, have been an exile from his native 
 country, or 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 hoarse 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. 
 
 " 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 
 
" Hk crept softly to the Window." 
 
grandfather's chair. 177 
 
 care these roarers for the name of king ? I must 
 flee or they will trample me down, on the cloor of 
 my own dwelling ! " 
 
 Hurrying away, he and his daughter made their 
 escape by the private passage, at the moment when 
 the rioters broke into the house. The foremost of 
 them rushed up the staircase, 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. Per- 
 haps 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 behind, and the chair 
 lay overthrown. 
 
 Then began the work of destruction. The carved 
 and j)olished mahogany tables were shattered with 
 heavy clubs, and hewn to splinters with axes. 
 The marble hearths and mantel-pieces were broken. 
 The volumes of Hutchinson's library, so precious to 
 a studious 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 counte- 
 nances looked down on the wild scene, were rent 
 from the walls. The mob triumphed in their 
 downfall and destruction, as if these pictures of 
 Hutchinson's forefathers had committed the same 
 
178 grandfather's chair. 
 
 offences as their descendant. A tall looking-glass, 
 which had hitherto presented a reflection of the 
 enraged and drunken multitude, was now smashed 
 into a thousand fragments. 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 re- 
 turned, they stood shivering in the same room, where 
 the last evening 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. Afterwards, the people grew more 
 calm, and were more influenced by the counsel of 
 those wise and good men who conducted them 
 safely and gloriously through the Eevolution." 
 
 Little Alice, with tears in her blue eyes, said 
 that she hoped the neighbors had not let Lieu- 
 tenant-Governor Hutchinson and his family be 
 
grandfather's chair. 179 
 
 homeless in the street, but had taken them into 
 their houses, and been kind to them. Cousin 
 Clara, recollecting the perilous situation of our 
 beloved chair, inquired what had become of it. 
 
 " Nothing was heard of our chair for some time 
 afterwards," answered Grandfather. *' One day in 
 September, 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. Accord- 
 ingly, 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 
 equinoctial gale blew violently, and scattered the 
 yellow leaves of Liberty Tree all along the street. 
 Mr. Oliver's wig was dripping with water-drops, 
 and he probably looked haggard, disconsolate, and 
 humbled to the earth. Beneath the tree, in Grand- 
 father's chair, — our own venerable chair, — sat Mr. 
 E-ichard Dana, a justice of the peace. He admin- 
 istered 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." 
 
180 grandfather's chair. 
 
 *^ There is something grand in this," said Lau- 
 rence. " I like it, because the people seem to have 
 acted with thoughtfulness 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." 
 
 " But it was a sad day for poor Mr. Oliver," 
 observed 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 cater- 
 pillars and canker worms. 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 cere- 
 mony of Mr. Oliver's oath, appears to have been 
 quite forgotten by the multitude. Indeed, being 
 much bruised and rather rickety, owing to the 
 violent treatment it had suffered from the Hutch- 
 inson 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. He doc- 
 tored our old friend so successfully, 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 ? " inquired Charley. 
 
 " I know not," answered Grandfather, " unless he 
 
 181 
 
182 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 principal hotel in Boston. It could 
 not possibly have found a situation, where it would 
 be more in the midst of business and bustle, or 
 would witness more important events, or be occu- 
 pied 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, there- 
 fore, they caused Parliament to pass an act for lay- 
 ing 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 regiments, consisting of more than seven hun- 
 dred British soldiers, were sent to Boston. They 
 arrived in September, 1768, and were landed on 
 Long Wharf. Thence they marched to the Com- 
 mon, with loaded muskets, fixed bayonets, and great 
 pomp and parade. So now, at last, the free town 
 
grandfather's chair. 183 
 
 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, Avhich the inhabitants looked upon as a 
 consecrated place, because it had been the scene of 
 a great many meetings in favor of liberty. One 
 regiment was placed in the 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 upper stories were the 
 chambers of the judges, the representatives, 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 descend- 
 ants of the Puritans were shocked by the uproar of 
 military music, the drum, fife, and bugle drowning 
 the holy organ peal and the voices of the singers. 
 
184 grandfather's chair. 
 
 It would appear as if tlie 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, 
 ^' when it saw how the province was disgraced. Its 
 old Puritan friends never would have borne such 
 doings." 
 
 " 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." 
 
 " Wliy 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, Avhen not on duty, used to fling 
 themselves into the arms of our venerable chair. 
 
grandfather's chair. 185 
 
 Fancy one of tliem, a red-nosed captain, in his 
 scarlet uniform, playing with the hilt of his sword, 
 and making a circle of his brother officers merry 
 with ridiculous jokes at the expense of the poor 
 Yankees. And perhaps he would call for a bottle 
 of wine, or a steaming 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," re- 
 plied 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 by the British troops. 
 Some years passed, however, before such things 
 were done." 
 
 Grandfather now told his auditors that, in 1769, 
 Sir Francis Bernard went to England, after having 
 been governor of Massachusetts ten years. He was 
 a gentleman of many good qualities, an excellent 
 scholar, and a friend to learning. But he was 
 naturally of an arbitrary disposition; and he had 
 been bred at the University of Oxford, where 
 young men were taught that the divine right of 
 kings was the only thing to be regarded 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 
 
186 grandfather's chair. 
 
 successor, Lieut enant-GrOver nor Hutchinson, no 
 better than himself. 
 
 About this period, the people were much in- 
 censed at an act, committed by a person who held 
 an office in the custom-house. Some lads, or young 
 men, were snowballing 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 mili- 
 tary 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 stationed in the court of 
 guard. The custom-house stood at a little distance 
 down King Street, nearlj- where the Suffolk Bank 
 now stands ; and a sentinel was continually pacing 
 before its front." 
 
 "I shall remember this, to-morrow," said Char- 
 ley ; " 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. 
 
grandfather's chair. 187 
 
 The history of our chair will soon bring us to this 
 melancholy business." 
 
 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 town's-people 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 penin- 
 sula 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 fore- 
 tell that they will soon be turned against the 
 bosoms of those who provoke their anger." 
 
 " Grandfather," said little Alice, looking fear- 
 fully 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 
 description 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 America, than anything that 
 had yet occurred. 
 
 Without further preface, Grandfather began the 
 story of 
 
 The Boston Massacre. 
 
 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 fireside of the guard-room. 
 
 188 
 
grandfather's chair. 189 
 
 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 stood at the corners of the streets, or 
 walked along the narrow pavements. Squads of 
 soldiers, who were dismissed from duty, passed by 
 them, shoulder to shoulder, with the regular step 
 which they had learned at the drill. AVhenever 
 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 side-walks ! '' another would 
 cry. "A red-coat has no right in Boston streets." 
 
 " Oh, 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- 
 
190 grandfather's chair. 
 
 sides, and sat talking witli their wives and children 
 about the calamities of the times. Others, who were 
 younger and less prudent, remained 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, 
 several 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 neighboring window, glittered on the barrel 
 of his musket. At no great distance were the bar- 
 racks and the guard-house, where his comrades 
 were probably telling stories of battle and blood- 
 shed. 
 
 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 bayonet at their breasts. 
 
 " Who goes there ? " he cried, in the gruff, per- 
 emptory 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 comrade. At the same time, many 
 
grandfather's chair. 191 
 
 of the town's-people rushed into King Street, by 
 various avenues, 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. 
 
 A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterwards 
 general of the American artillery) caught Captain 
 Preston's arm. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, sir," exclaimed he, "take 
 heed what you do, or here will be bloodshed." 
 
 " Stand aside ! " answered Captain Preston, 
 haughtily. " 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 uncontrol- 
 lable. 
 
192 grandfather's chair. 
 
 " Fire, you lobster-backs ! " bellowed some. 
 
 " You dare not fire, you cowardly red-coats," 
 cried others. 
 
 " Rusli 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 acknowledge 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 overcome. The perils 
 shared, the victories won, in the Old French War, 
 when the soldiers of the colonies fought side by side 
 with their comrades from beyond the sea, were 
 unforgotten yet. England was still that beloved 
 country which the colonists called their h'ome. 
 King George, though he had frowned on 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 193 
 
 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 
 uttered 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 muskets lighted up the street, 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 dread- 
 ful 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 away in the next day's sun, was 
 never forgotten nor forgiven by the people. 
 
 Grandfather was interrupted by the violent sobs 
 of little Alice. In his earnestness, he had neglected 
 o 
 
194 grandfather's chair. 
 
 to soften down the narrative, so that it might not 
 terrify the heart of this unworldly infant. Since 
 Grandfather began the history of onr chair, little 
 Alice had listened to many tales of war. But, 
 probably, the idea had never really impressed it- 
 self 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 
 violence. Well, Clara, take her to 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 
 multitude rushed into King Street. Many of them 
 had weapons in their hands. The British prepared 
 to defend themselves. A whole regiment was drawn 
 up in the street, expecting an attack ; for the towns- 
 men appeared ready to throw themselves upon the 
 bayonets." 
 
 " And how did it end ? " asked Charley. 
 
 " Governor Hutchinson hurried to the spot," said 
 Grandfather, "and besought the people to have 
 
grandfather's chair. 195 
 
 patience, promising that strict justice should be 
 done. A day or two afterward, the British troops 
 were withdrawn 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 Eevolution," 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 
 movement 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." 
 
196 geandfather's chair. 
 
 Grandfather here made a pause. That night, 
 Charley had a dream about the Boston Massacre, 
 and 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-people 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 
 evening, one-and-seventy years ago. It is the sole 
 remaining witness of the Boston Massacre. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The next evening the astral lamp was lighted 
 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 fireside ; 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 Grand- 
 father. "His character was such, that it seemed 
 
 197 
 
198 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 distin- 
 guished 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 representa- 
 tive of the people of New England, and of the 
 spirit with which they engaged in the revolution- 
 ary 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. Eemember 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 por- 
 trait 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 be- 
 tween Samuel Adams and John Hancock," said 
 Grandfather. " Yet they were of the same side in 
 politics, and had an equal agency in the Eevolution. 
 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, magnificent furniture, stately 
 festivals, and all that was glittering and pompous 
 in external things. His manners were so polished, 
 that there stood not a nobleman at the footstool of 
 
grandfather's chair. 199 
 
 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 threadbare 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 remarkable, that these two men, so very differ- 
 ent as I describe them, were the only two exempted 
 from pardon by the king's proclamation." 
 
 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 mem- 
 ory 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 
 hapi)ened so early in the contest, he would prob- 
 ably 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 
 spectacles, appeared to be attentively reading a 
 manuscript. 
 
 "Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy 
 that ever lived," said Grandfather. "This is Ben- 
 jamin Franklin ! But I will not try to compress, 
 into a few sentences, the character of the sage 
 
200 grandfather's chair. 
 
 who, as a Frenchman expressed it, snatched the 
 lightning from the sky, and the sceptre from a 
 tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help you to the knowl- 
 edge of Franklin." 
 
 The book likewise contained portraits of James 
 Otis and Josiah Quincy. Both of them. Grand- 
 father 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 freedom. 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 resistance. 
 
 "It is marvellous," said Grandfather, "to see 
 how 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 Lau- 
 rence, 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. He was destined, in after 
 years, to be ruler over the whole American 
 
grandfather's chair. 201 
 
 people, whom he contributed so much to form 
 into a nation." * 
 
 Grandfather here remarked, that many a New 
 Englander, who had passed his boyhood and youtli 
 in obscurity, afterward attained 'to a fortune, 
 which he never could have foreseen, even in his 
 most ambitious dreams. John Adams, the second 
 president of the United States, and the equal of 
 crowned kings, was once a schoolmaster and 
 country lawyer. Hancock, the first signer of 
 the Declaration of Independence, served his ap- 
 prenticeship with a merchant. Samuel Adams, 
 afterwards governor of Massachusetts, 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 Washington, in the 
 revolutionary army, was a Quaker and a black- 
 smith. All these became illustrious men, and can 
 never be forgotten in American history. 
 
 "And any boy, who is born in America, may 
 look forward to the same things," said our ambi- 
 tious friend Charley. 
 
 After -these observations, Grandfather drew the 
 book of portraits towards him, and showed the 
 children several British peers and members of Par- 
 liament, 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. 
 
202 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, 
 afterward 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 almost his d3dng 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 euough 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." 
 
 " 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 
 
GRANDFATHElt's CHAIK. 203 
 
 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. More- 
 over 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 con- 
 tending against the rights of their own native 
 land." 
 
 " What were the names of some of them ? " 
 inquired Charley. 
 
 "Governor Hutchinson, Chief Justice Oliver, 
 Judge Auchmuty, the Keverend Mather Byles 
 and several 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 
 Grandfather. "You must not think that there 
 was no integrity 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 prin- 
 ciple of loyalty, which made the royalists give up 
 country, friends, fortune, everything, rather than 
 be false to their king? It was a mistaken prin- 
 
204 grandfather's chair. 
 
 ciple ; but many of them cherislied it honorably, 
 and were martyrs to it." 
 
 " 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 
 physiognomy. But Laurence thought it strange 
 that a man with such a face, indicating hardly a 
 common share of intellect, should have had in- 
 fluence 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 205 
 
 retained what intellect Heaven had gifted him 
 with, was one long mortification. At last, he grew 
 crazed with care and trouble. For nearly twenty 
 3^ears, the monarch of England was confined as a 
 madman. In his old age, too, God took away his 
 eyesight ; so that his royal palace was nothing to 
 him but a dark, lonesome prison-house." 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 " Our old chair," resumed Grandfather, " did not 
 now stand in the midst of a gay circle of British 
 officers. The troops, as I told you, had been re- 
 moved to Castle William, immediately after the 
 Boston Massacre. Still, however, there were many 
 tories, custom-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 incensed 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 
 importing 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 company of merchants to send the tea to 
 America. 
 
 "How odd it is," observed Clara, "tha,t the 
 liberties of America should have had anything to 
 do with a cup of tea ! " 
 
 206 
 
grandfather's chair. 207 
 
 Grandfather smiled, and proceeded with his 
 narrative. When the people of Boston heard that 
 several cargoes of tea were coming across the 
 Atlantic, they held a great many meetings at 
 Faneuil Hall, in 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 con- 
 sulting what should be done. At last, on the IGth 
 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. Therefore, in the dusk of the even- 
 ing, 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 
 Grandfather, "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 had their faces covered with red 
 and black paint, like the Indians, when they go to 
 
208 grandfather's chair. 
 
 war. These grim figures 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 Ind- 
 ians don't love tea; else they would never waste 
 it so." 
 
 "They were not real Indians, my child," an- 
 swered Grandfather. "They were white men in 
 disguise ; because a heavy punishment would have 
 been inflicted on them, if the King's officers had 
 found who 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 Indian figures. Some people say 
 that there were very famous men among them, 
 who afterwards became governors and generals. 
 Whether this be true, I cannot tell." 
 
 When tidings of this bold deed were carried 
 to England, King George was greatly enraged. 
 Parliament 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 209 
 
 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. The merchants shut up their 
 warehouses, and the laboring 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 inhabi- 
 tants. 
 
 " Our dear old chair ! '' exclaimed Clara. " How 
 dismal it must have been now ! " 
 
 "Oh," replied Grandfather, "a gay throng of 
 officers had now come back to the British Coffee 
 House ; so that the old chair had no lack of mirth- 
 ful company. 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 battery across the neck, on the road 
 to E-oxbury, and placed guards for its defence. 
 
210 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Everything looked as if a civil war were close at 
 hand." 
 
 "Did the people make ready to fight?" asked 
 Charley. 
 
 "A continental Congress assembled at Phila- 
 delphia," said Grandfather, " and proposed such 
 measures as they thought most conducive to the 
 public good. A provincial Congress was likewise 
 chosen in Massachusetts. They exhorted the peo- 
 ple to arm and discipline themselves. A great 
 number of minute men were enrolled. The Ameri- 
 cans called them minute 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, because 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 
 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 posses- 
 sion of some military stores. No blood was shed on 
 this occasion ; but, 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 
 in the evening of the 18th of April, 1775. The 
 
 J 
 
GKANDFATHEU'S CHAIR. 211 
 
 next morning, the general sent Lord Percy, with 
 nine hundred men, to strengthen the troops that 
 had gone before. All that day, the inhabitants of 
 Boston heard various rumors. Some said that the 
 British were making great slaughter among our 
 countrymen. Others affirmed that every man had 
 turned out with his musket, and that not a single 
 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 strown, 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 
 Charley. 
 
 "Yes," replied Grandfather; "it was so called, 
 because the British, without provocation, had fired 
 upon a party of minute men, near Lexington meet- 
 ing-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 cor- 
 rectly informed, our chair disappeared from the 
 British Coffee House. The manner of its depart- 
 ure cannot be satisfactorily ascertained. Perhaps 
 the keeper of the Coffee House turned it out of 
 
212 grandfather's chair. 
 
 doors, on account of its old-fashioned aspect. Per- 
 haps he sold it as a curiosity. 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 peninsula. 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 prom- 
 inent place in the history of our quiet and comfort- 
 able old chair. But, to-morrow evening, Laurence, 
 Clara, and yourself, and dear little Alice too, shall 
 visit the Diorama of Bunker Hill. There you shall 
 see the whole business, the burning of Charlestown 
 and all, with your own eyes, and hear the cannon 
 and musketry with your own ears." 
 
CHAPTEE YIII. 
 
 The next evening but one, when the chiklren 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 gratifjdng their curios- 
 ity. Grandfather found it necessary to say something 
 about public events. 
 
 The continental Congress, w^hich was assembled 
 at Philadelphia, was composed of delegates from all 
 the colonies. They had now appointed George 
 Washington, of Virginia, to be commander-in-chief 
 of all the American armies. He was, at that time, 
 a member of Congress, but immediately left Phila- 
 delphia, and began his journey to Massachusetts. 
 On the 3d of July, 1775, he arrived at Cambridge, 
 and took command of the troops which were besieg- 
 ing 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 
 
 213 
 
214 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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. Grandfather paused a moment; for he 
 felt as if it 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 need- 
 ful, but with an unambitious simplicity. 
 
 So Grandfather told his auditors, that, on Gen- 
 eral 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 ex- 
 tended 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 constructed 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 gentleman, was provided for his residence, 
 
grandfather's chair. 215 
 
 "When General Washington first entered this 
 mansion," said Grandfather, "he was ushered up the 
 staircase, and shown into a handsome apartment. 
 He sat down in a large chair, which was the most 
 conspicuous 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, his whole aspect well befitted the chosen 
 man on whom his country leaned for the defence of 
 her dearest rights. America seemed safe, under 
 his protection. His face was grander than any 
 sculptor had ever wrought in marble ; none could 
 behold him without awe and reverence. Never 
 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 
 foresaw 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 New England from 
 the British. 
 
 The army, when he took command of it, was 
 without any discipline or order. The privates con- 
 
216 grandfather's chair. 
 
 sidered themselves as good as their officers, and 
 seldom thought it necessary to obey their com- 
 mands, unless they understood the why and where- 
 fore. 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 Washington had to contend 
 against more than twenty veteran British regi- 
 ments. 
 
 Some of the men had no muskets, and almost all 
 were without bayonets. Heavy cannon, for batter- 
 ing the British fortifications, were much wanted. 
 There was but a small quantity of powder and ball, 
 few tools to build intrenchments 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 discij^line. 
 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 inval- 
 uable characteristics was the faculty of bringing 
 order out of confusion. All business, with which 
 he had any concern, seemed to regulate itself, as if 
 by magic. The influence of his mind was like 
 
grandfather's chair. 217 
 
 light, gleaming tlirougli an unshaped world. It 
 was this faculty, more than any other, that made 
 him so fit to ride upon the storm of the Revolution, 
 Avhen 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 confidence 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 ; 
 " and Washington was anxious to make a decisive 
 assault upon the enen^y. But, as the enterprise 
 was very hazardous, he called a council of all the 
 generals in the army. Accordingly, they came 
 from their different 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 
 commanded the troops before Washington's arrival. 
 Another was General Charles Lee, who had been 
 
218 grandfather's chair. 
 
 a colonel in the English army, and was thought to 
 possess vast military science. He came to the 
 council, followed by two or three dogs, who were 
 always at his heels. There was General Putnam, 
 too, who was known all over New England by the 
 name of Old Put.'' 
 
 " Was it he who killed the wolf ? " inquired 
 Charley. 
 
 "The same," said Grandfather; "and he had 
 done good service in the Old French War. His 
 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 after- 
 ward gained great renown at Saratoga, and lost 
 it again at Camden. General Greene, of Ehode 
 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, Wash- 
 ington consulted them about ia 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 provisions, 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, 
 
grandfather's chair. 219 
 
 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 
 supposed that his whole mind was fixed on the 
 blue china tiles, which adorned the old-fashioned 
 fire-place. 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 per- 
 suaded that there was any prospect of success." 
 
 " What were the British doing all this time ? " 
 inquired Charley. 
 
 "They lay idle in the town," replied Grand- 
 father. " General Gage had been recalled to Eng- 
 land, 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 burnt up all their fuel. The 
 soldiers tore down the Old North Church, and used 
 its rotten boards and timbers for firewood. To 
 heighten their distress the small-pox broke out. 
 They probably lost far more men by cold, hunger, 
 and sickness, than had been slain at Lexington 
 and Bunker Hill." 
 
 "What a dismal time for the poor women and 
 children!" exclaimed Clara. 
 
 " At length," continued Grandfather, " in March, 
 1776, General Washington, who had now a good 
 
220 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 prepa- 
 rations to cross over in boats, and drive the Ameri- 
 cans from their batteries, but was prevented by a 
 violent gale and storm. General Washington next 
 erected a battery on Nook's Hill, so near the enemy, 
 that it was impossible 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. 
 
 " 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 
 pitiable 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 
 
 221 
 
222 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 Faneuil Hall. This edifice, 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 bitter- 
 ness of his heart, he shook his fist at the famous hall. 
 " There began the mischief which now threatens to 
 rend asunder 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 in the very 
 spot which, six years before, had been reddened by 
 the blood of the Boston Massacre. The chief jus- 
 tice stepped cautiously, 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 men- 
 tioned without honor. There, too, was the balcony 
 whence the trumpet had been sounded, and the 
 proclamation read to an assembled multitude, when- 
 ever a new king of England ascended the throne. 
 
grandfather's chair. 223 
 
 " I remember — I remember," said Chief Justice 
 Oliver to himself, "when his present most sacred 
 majesty 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 ! " 
 
 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 Wash- 
 ington Street was then called. Opposite to the 
 Town House was the waste foundation of the Old 
 North Church. The sacrilegious hands of the Brit- 
 ish soldiers had torn it down, and kindled their 
 barrack fires with the fragments. 
 
 Further 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 lingered an instant at the 
 door, a trumpet sounded within, and the regi- 
 ment came clattering forth, and galloped down the 
 street. They were proceeding to the place of em- 
 barkation. 
 
 "Let them go!" thought the chief justice, with 
 
224 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 further, and paused before 
 the Province House. No range of brick stores had 
 then sprung up to hide the mansion of the royal 
 governors from public view. It had a spacious 
 court-yard, bordered with trees, and inclosed with a 
 wrought-iron fence. On the cupola, that surmounted 
 the edifice, 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. 
 
 While Chief Justice OliYcr gazed sadly at the 
 Province House, before which a sentinel was pacing, 
 the double leaves of the door were thrown open, 
 and Sir William Howe made his appearance. Be- 
 hind him came a throng of officers, whose steel 
 scabbards clattered against the stones, as they 
 hastened down the court-yard. Sir William Howe 
 was a dark-complexioned 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 general. 
 
 The chief justice bowed and accosted him. 
 
 "This is a grievous hour for both of us. Sir 
 William," said he. 
 
 " Forward ! gentlemen," said Sir William Howe 
 
grandfather's chair. 225 
 
 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 the 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 noblemen, while Massachu- 
 setts was under royal government. 
 
 But now, all hereditary reverence for birth and 
 rank was gone. The inhabitants shouted in deri- 
 sion, 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 
 Hutchinson. It was by their advice that the king 
 had acted, in all the colonial troubles. But the day 
 of recompense was come. 
 Q 
 
226 grandfather's chair. 
 
 ^^ 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 possession 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 scornful 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 New 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 
 gesture, as if he were bestowing a parting bene- 
 diction 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 beside him was the broad stump 
 of a tree, which appeared to have been recently cut 
 down. Being weary and heavy at heart, he was 
 about to sit down upon the stump. 
 
 m 
 
grandfather's chair. 227 
 
 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 acknowledge 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 England. 
 
 " Accursed tree ! " cried the chief justice, gnash- 
 ing 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." 
 
 He 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 
 emotions, 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 bene- 
 dictions. He felt as 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 
 
228 grandfather's chair. 
 
 exiles, a thousand in number, who departed with the 
 British army. Were they not the most unfortunate 
 of men ? 
 
 " The misfortunes of these 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 
 Charley. "But I choose to rejoice with the pa- 
 triots, rather than be sorrowful with the tories. 
 Grandfather, what did General Washington do 
 now ? " 
 
 " As the rear of the British army embarked from 
 the wharf," replied Grandfather, "General Wash- 
 ington's troops marched over the neck, through the 
 fortification gates, and entered Boston in triumph. 
 And now, for the first time since the pilgrims 
 landed, Massachusetts was free from the dominion 
 of England. May she never again be subjected to 
 foreign rule — never again feel the rod of oppres- 
 sion ! " 
 
 " Dear Grandfather," asked little Alice, " did Gen- 
 eral Washington bring our chair back to Boston ? " 
 
 "I know not how long the chair remained at 
 Cambridge," said Grandfather. " Had it staid 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 apartments have since been tenanted by several 
 eminent men. Governor Everett, while a professor 
 
grandfather's chair. 229 
 
 in the university, resided there. So, at an after 
 period, did Mr. Sparks, whose invaluable labors 
 have connected his 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 headquarters." 
 
 " You mean Professor Longfellow, Grandfather," 
 said Laurence. " Oh, how I should love to see the 
 author of those beautiful Voices or the Night ! " 
 
 " We will visit him next summer," answered 
 Grandfather, " and take Clara and little Alice with 
 us — and Charley, too, if he will be quiet." 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 When Grandfather resumed his narrative, the 
 next evening, he told the children that he had some 
 difficulty 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 ap- 
 pearance at a shop in Boston, before the door of 
 which was seen a striped pole. In the interior was 
 displayed a stuffed alligator, a rattle-snake's skin, 
 a bundle of Indian arrows, an old-fashioned match- 
 lock gun, a walking-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 Washington, 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, 
 
 230 
 
grandfather's chair. 231 
 
 while Mr. Pierce, with his scissors and razor, was at 
 work upon the heads or chins of his other cus- 
 tomers." 
 
 " 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. 
 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 
 place." 
 
 " Perhaps so," answered Grandfather. " But the 
 chair, in the course of its varied existence, had 
 grown so accustomed to general intercourse with 
 society, that I doubt whether it would have con- 
 tented 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 powder- 
 
232 grandfather's chair. 
 
 ing 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 laden vessels, belonging to 
 King George's subjects. And, sometimes, a rosy 
 little school-boy climbed into our chair, and sat 
 staring, with wide-open eyes, at the alligator, the 
 rattle-snake, 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 supplied the 
 barber's customers with topics of conversation. 
 They talked sorrowfully of the death of General 
 Montgomery, and the failure of our troops to take 
 Quebec ; for the New Englanders were now as 
 anxious to get Canada from the English, as they 
 had formerly 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 indepen- 
 dent states. Dark as our prospects were, the 
 
GRANDFATHEll's CHAIR. 233 
 
 inhabitants welcomed these glorious tidings, and 
 resolved to perish, rather than again bear the yoke 
 of England ! " 
 
 " And I would perish too ! " cried Charley. 
 
 "It was a great day — a glorious deed!" said 
 Laurence, coloring high with enthusiasm. " And, 
 Grandfather, 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 re- 
 quired 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 thunder-storm of war had now rolled south- 
 ward, and did not again burst upon Massachusetts, 
 where its first fury had been felt. But she con- 
 tributed her full share to the success of the 
 contest. Wherever a battle was fought — whether 
 at Long Island, White Plains, Trenton, Prince- 
 ton, Brandywine, or Germantown — 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 Massa- 
 chusetts. Not long afterwards, Doctor 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 
 
234 grandfather's chair. 
 
 Washington. In 1778, a Erench fleet, commanded 
 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 kindred England should be our foe. 
 
 "While the war was raging in the Middle and 
 Southern States," proceeded Grandfather, " Massa- 
 chusetts had leisure to settle a new constitution 
 of government, instead of the royal charter. This 
 was done in 1780. In the same year, John Han- 
 cock, who had been president 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 
 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 government was overthrown 
 by the war, no anarchy, nor the slightest 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's chair. 235 
 
 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, General Washington compelled 
 Lord Cornwallis to surrender his army, at York- 
 town, 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 
 discussion, a treaty of peace was signed, in Sep- 
 tember, 1783. 
 
 ^^Now, at last," said Grandfather, "after weary 
 years of war, the regiments of Massachusetts 
 returned in peace to their families. Now, the 
 stately and dignified 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," 
 remarked Charley ; " and the grown people bowed 
 respectfully." 
 
 "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 some peaceful occupation. Their 
 friends remembered them as slender and smooth- 
 cheeked young men ; but they returned with the 
 erect and rigid mien of disciplined soldiers. Some 
 hobbled on crutches and wooden legs; others had 
 
236 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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," 
 observed Laurence. 
 
 " One would have thought so," said Grandfather. 
 "Yet only two or three years elapsed, before the 
 folly of some misguided men caused another mus- 
 tering of soldiers. This affair was called Shays' 
 War, because a Captain Shays was the chief leader 
 of the insurgents." 
 
 "Oh, Grandfather, don't let there be another 
 war ! " cried little Alice, piteously. 
 
 Grandfather comforted his dear little girl, by 
 assuring her that there was no great mischief- 
 done. Shays' War happened in the latter part 
 of 1786, and the beginning of the following year. 
 Its principal cause was the badness of the times. 
 The State of Massachusetts^ in its public capacity, 
 was very much in debt. So, likewise, were many 
 of the people. An insurrection took place, the 
 object of which seems to have been to interrupt 
 the course of law, 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, 
 
grandfather's chair. 237 
 
 and totally defeated the rebels, at the expense of 
 very little blood. 
 
 "There is but one more public event to be 
 recorded in the history of our chair,'^ proceeded 
 Grandfather. "In the year 1794, Samuel Adams 
 was elected governor of Massachusetts. I have 
 told you what a distinguished patriot he was, 
 and how much he resembled the stern old Puri- 
 tans. Could the ancient freemen of Massachu- 
 Isetts, who lived in the days of the first charter, 
 have arisen from their graves, they would probably 
 have voted for Samuel Adams to be governor." 
 
 "Well, Grandfather, I hope he sat in our 
 chair ! " said Clara. 
 
 " He 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 eigh- 
 teen not uncomfortable years. Such a remarkable 
 piece of furniture, so evidently a relic of long-de- 
 parted times, could not escape the notice of Samuel 
 Adams. He made minute researches into its his- 
 tory, and ascertained what a succession of excellent 
 and famous people had occupied it." 
 
 " How did he find it out ? " asked Charley. " For 
 I suppose the chair could not tell its own history." 
 
 "There used to be a vast collection of ancient 
 letters and other documents in the tower of the 
 Old South Church," answered Grandfather. "Per- 
 haps the history of our chair was contained among 
 
238 geandfather's chair. 
 
 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 that which had been the 
 ancient Chair of State. He therefore purchased 
 it for a trifle, and filled it worthily 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 threescore 
 and ten. He was a great patriot, but a poor man. 
 At his death, he left scarcely property enough to 
 pay the expenses of his funeral. This precious 
 chair, among his other effects, was sold at auction ; 
 and your Grandfather, who was then in the 
 strength of his years, became the purchaser." 
 
 Laurence, with a mind full of thoughts, that 
 struggled for expression, but could find none, 
 looked steadfastly at the chair. 
 
 He had now learned all its history, yet was 
 not satisfied. 
 
 "Oh, how I wish that the chair could speak!" 
 cried he. "After its long intercourse with man- 
 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 prosperous ! " 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Grandfather was struck by Laurence's idea, 
 that the historic chair should utter a voice, and 
 thus pour forth the collected wisdom of two cen- 
 turies. The old gentleman had once possessed 
 no inconsiderable share of fancy ; and, even now, 
 its fading sunshine occasionally glimmered among 
 his more sombre reflections. 
 
 As the history of the 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 re- 
 lated 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 
 had grown so dim, that its light hardly illumi- 
 nated the alabaster shade. The wood-fire had 
 crumbled into heavy embers, among which the 
 little flames danced, and quivered, and sported 
 about, like fairies. 
 
 239 
 
240 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 
 comfortable chat with some old friend; because 
 then his pillow would be visited by pleasant 
 dreams. But, as neither children nor friends 
 were at hand, Grandfather 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 prepar- 
 ing 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 room, he started up in great surprise, 
 and peeped hither and thither, behind the chair, and 
 into the recess 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, 
 Grandfather happened to look at the great chair. 
 The rays of fire-light 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 
 
grandfather's chair. 241 
 
 lion's head nodded at Grandfather, 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. 
 
 " I was not aware," said Grandfather, with 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 
 society." 
 
 " Oh ! " replied the ancient chair, in a quiet and 
 easy tone, for it had now cleared its throat of the 
 dust of ages. " I am naturally a silent and incom- 
 municative sort of character. Once or twice, in the 
 course of a century, 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 tyrant Andros, I 
 joined in the general huzza, and capered upon my 
 wooden legs, for joy. To be sure, the bystanders 
 
242 grandfather's chair. 
 
 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 Phipps, and communicated my 
 ideas about the witchcraft delusion. Cotton Mather 
 had several conversations with me, and derived 
 great benefit 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 there is no record nor tradition of your con- 
 versational abilities ? It is an uncommon thing to 
 meet with a chair that can talk." 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giv- 
 ing itself a hitch nearer to the hearth, "I am not 
 apt to choose the most suitable moments for unclos- 
 ing my lips. Sometimes I have inconsiderately 
 begun to speak, when my occupant, lolling back in 
 my arms, was inclined 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. Oftenest, I 
 
gkandfather's chatk. 243 
 
 have unwisely uttered my wisdom 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 im- 
 pression at the moment, yet my auditors invariably 
 remember them only as a dream. I should not 
 wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to do the 
 same, to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Nor 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. Never- 
 theless, 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 weight of all these 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 regard for outward appearance, then reminded 
 him how long a time had passed since it had been 
 provided with a new cushion. It likewise expressed 
 the opinion, that the oaken figures on its back would 
 
244 grandfather's chair. 
 
 show to much better advantage by the aid of a 
 little varnish. 
 
 "And I have had a complaint in this joint," 
 continued 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. 
 During an existence of more than two centuries, 
 you have had a familiar intercourse with men who 
 were esteemed the wisest of their day. Doubtless, 
 with your capacious understanding, you have treas- 
 ured 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 Grand- 
 father 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 enunci- 
 ation, "I have constantly observed that Justice, 
 Truth, and Love are the chief ingredients of 
 every happy life." 
 
 " Justice, Truth, and Love ! " exclaimed Grand- 
 father. "We need not exist two centuries to find 
 out that these qualities are essential to our hap- 
 
grandfather's chair. 245 
 
 piness. This is no secret. Eveiy human being is 
 born with the instinctive knowledge of it." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the chair, drawing back in surprise. 
 " From what 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. 
 
 "Kot 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 un- 
 intentionally) upon Grandfather's toe. The old 
 gentleman started, and found that he had been 
 asleep in the great chair, and that his heavy walk- 
 ing stick had fallen down across his foot. 
 
 "Grandfather," cried little Alice, clapping her 
 hands, "you must dream a new dream, every night, 
 about our chair ! " 
 
 Laurence, and Clara, and Charley said the same. 
 But the good old gentleman shook his head, and 
 declared that here ended the history, real or fab- 
 ulous, of Grandfather's Chair. 
 
AUG y »«^^