UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
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GRANDFATHERS CHAIR 
 
Grandfathers Chair 
 
 OR 
 
 TRUE STORIES FROM NEW ENGLAND HISTORY 
 AND BIOGRAPHICAL STORIES 
 
 BY 
 
 NA THAN I EL HA WTHORNE 
 
 WITH SEVENTY ILLUSTRA TIONS 
 
 CHICAGO 
 IV. B. CON KEY COMPANY 
 
IN UNIFORM STYLE 
 Copiously Illustrated 
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 ALICE 'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND 
 
 THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS AND 
 
 WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE 
 ROBINSON CRUSOE 
 WOOD 'S NA TURAL HISTOR Y 
 A CHILD 'S LIRE OF CHRIST 
 STORY OF THE BIBLE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
 LITTLE LAME PRINCE 
 THE SWISS FAMIL Y ROBINSON 
 THE FABLES OF AESOP 
 MOTHER GOOSE RHYMES AND JINGLES 
 G ULLIVER 'S TRA J 'ELS 
 
 ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS 
 BLACK BEAUTY 
 ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES 
 GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 NURSERY TALES: THE OLD FAVORITES 
 TREASURE ISLAND 
 TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE 
 THE WATER-BABIES 
 
 RIP VAN WINKLE. AND SLEEPY HOLLOW 
 CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, by Charles 
 
 Dickens 
 A WONDER-BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 
 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS OF THE 
 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 Others in preparation . 
 
 CHICAGO 
 W. B. CONKEY COMPANY 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Grandfather had been sitting in 
 his old armchair all that pleasant 
 afternoon. Sometimes you would 
 have said, "Grandfather is asleep!" 
 but still, even when his eyes were 
 closed, his thoughts were 
 with the young people, 
 playing among the flowers 
 and shrubbery of the 
 garden. He heard the 
 voice of Laurence, who 
 was building a hut for his 
 cousin Clara and himself. 
 He heard Clara's gladsome 
 voice, 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 when- 
 ever little Alice came fluttering like a butterfly into the room. 
 
 BREWSTER S CHAIR 
 
6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 She 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; so they came 
 into the room together, and clustered round Grandfather's 
 great chair. "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 pleased 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 Grand- 
 father's 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 at. On the very tiptop of 
 the chair, over the head of Grandfather himself, was a like- 
 ness 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. 
 "Do, Grandfather, talk to us about this chair," was repeated. 
 
 "Well, children," said Grandfather, "I can tell you a great 
 many stories of my chair. Perhaps your cousin Laurence 
 would like to hear them too They will teach him something 
 about the history and distinguished people of this country 
 which he has never read in any of his schoolbooks. " 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 But before relating the adventures of the chair. Grand- 
 father found it necessary to speak of the circumstances that 
 
 MILES STANDISH'S SWORD, POT, AND PLATTER 
 
 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. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 9 
 
 So Grandfather talked about the Puritans, as those persons 
 were called who thought it sinful to practice the religious 
 forms and ceremonies which the Church of England had bor- 
 rowed from the Roman Catholics. These Puritans suffered 
 so much persecution in England, that, in 1607, many of them 
 
 BIBLE BROUGHT OVER IN THE MAYFLOWER, IN 
 PILGRIM HALL, NEW PLYMOUTH 
 
 went over to Holland, and lived ten or twelve years at 
 Amsterdam and Leyden. But they feared if they continued 
 there much longer, they should cease to be English, and 
 should adopt the manners, ideas, and feelings of the Dutch. 
 So in the year 1620 they embarked on board of the ship May- 
 flower, and crossed the ocean, to the shores of Cape Cod. 
 
10 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 There they made a settlement, and called it Plymouth, which, 
 though now a part of Massachusetts, was for a long time a 
 colony by itself. And thus was formed the earliest settlement 
 of the Puritans in America. 
 
 Meanwhile, those of the Puritans who remained in England 
 continued to suffer grievous persecutions on account of their 
 religious opinions. They began to look around them for some 
 spot where they might worship- God according to the dictates 
 of their own conscience. When their brethren had gone from 
 Holland to America, they bethought themselves that they like- 
 wise might find refuge from persecution there. Several 
 gentlemen among them purchased a tract of country on the 
 coast of Massachusetts Bay, and obtained a charter from King 
 Charles the First, 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 pre- 
 pared to follow Endicott. 
 
 "And now we come to the chair, my dear children," said 
 Grandfather. ' ' This chair is supposed to have been made of an 
 oak tree which grew in the park of the English earl of Lincoln 
 nearly three centuries ago. In its younger days it used to stand 
 in the hall of the earl's castle. Do not you see the coat-of-arms 
 of the family of Lincoln carved in the openwork of the back? 
 But when his daughter, the Lady Arbella, was married to a 
 certain Mr. Johnson, the earl gave her this valuable chair. " 
 
 "Who was Mr. Johnson?" inquired Clara. 
 
 "He was a gentleman of great wealth, who agreed with the 
 Puritans in their religious opinions," answered Grandfather. 
 "And as his belief was the same as theirs, he resolved that he 
 would live and die with them. Accordingly, in 1630, he left 
 all his comforts in England, and embarked, with Lady Arbella, 
 on board a ship bound for America." 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 11 
 
 As Grandfather was frequently interrupted by the questions 
 and observations of his young auditors, we deem it advisable 
 
 JOHN ENDICOTT 
 
 to omit all such prattle as is not essential to the story. We 
 have taken some pains to find out exactly what Grandfather 
 
12 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 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 twelve vessels, with 
 many hundred passengers, left England about the same time; 
 for a multitude of people, who were discontented with the 
 king's government and oppressed by the bishops, were flock- 
 ing over to the New World. One of the vessels was that same 
 Mayflower which had carried the Puritan pilgrims to Plym- 
 outh. And now, my children, I would have you fancy your- 
 selves 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 gov- 
 ernor 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 minister 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 Amer- 
 ica. Not only these, but several other men of wealth, and 
 pious ministers, were in the cabin of the Arbella. 
 
 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 sing- 
 ing of hymns, they pursued their voyage, and sailed into the 
 harbor of Salem in the month of June. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 13 
 
 At that period there were but eight dwellings in the town ; 
 and these were miserable hovels, with roofs of straw and wooden 
 chimneys. The passengers built huts with bark and branches 
 
 TOMB OF THE MATE OF THE MAYFLOWER 
 
 of trees, or erected tents of cloth till they could provide them- 
 selves with better shelter. Many of them went to form a 
 settlement at Charlestown. It was thought fit that the Lady 
 
14 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Arbella should tarry in Salem for a time; she was probably 
 received as a guest into the family of John Endicott. He 
 was the chief person in the plantation, and had the only com- 
 fortable house which the newcomers had beheld since they 
 left England. So now you must imagine Grandfather's chair 
 in the midst of a new scene. 
 
 Suppose it a hot summer's day, and the lattice-window of a 
 chamber in Endicott's house thrown wide open. The Lady 
 Arbella is sitting in the chair and thinking mournfully of far- 
 off England. She rises and goes to the window. There, amid 
 patches of the garden ground and cornfield, she sees the few 
 wretched hovels of the settlers, with the still ruder wigwams 
 and cloth tents of the passengers who had arrived in the same 
 fleet with herself. Far and near stretches the dismal forest 
 of pine trees, which throw their black shadows over the whole 
 land, and likewise over the heart of this poor lady. 
 
 All the inhabitants of the little village are busy. One is 
 clearing a spot for his homestead; another is hewing the trunk 
 of a fallen pine tree, in order to build himself a dwelling; a 
 third is hoeing in his field of Indian corn. Here comes a 
 huntsman out of the woods, dragging a bear which he has 
 shot, and shouting to the neighbors to lend him a hand. There 
 goes a man to the seashore, with a spade and a bucket to dig a 
 mess of clams, which were a principal article of food for the 
 first settlers. Scattered here and there are two or three dusky 
 figures, clad in mantles of fur, with ornaments of bone hang- 
 ing 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 marauding beasts. 
 
 Johnson had gone, with Winthrop and most of the other 
 

16 
 
 GRANDFATHERS CHAIR 
 
 passengers, to Boston, where he intended to build a house for 
 Lady Arbella and 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 
 
 INDIAN WEAPONS 
 
 growing ill, and was hardly able to stir from the great chair. 
 Whenever Endicott noticed her despondency, he addressed 
 her with words of comfort. "Cheer up, my good lady! In 
 a little time, you will love this rude life of the wilderness as I 
 
INDIAN MEDICINE BAG, MYSTERY WHISTLE, RATTLES AND DRUM 
 2 Chair 
 
18 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. 
 
 What a contrast, my dear children, between this bold, 
 rough, active man, and the gentle Lady Arbella, who was 
 fading away, like a pale English flower, in the shadow of the 
 forest! And now the great chair was often empty, because 
 Lady Arbella grew too weak to arise from bed. 
 
 Meanwhile, her husband had pitched upon a spot for their 
 new home. He returned from Boston to Salem, traveling 
 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. 
 
 "I never heard anything so melancholy!" said Clara. 
 
 "The people loved Johnson so much," continued Grand- 
 father, "that it was the last request of many of them, when 
 they died, that they might be buried as near as possible to 
 this good man's grave. And so the field became the first 
 burial-ground in Boston. When you pass through Tremont 
 Street, along by King's Chapel, you see a burial-ground, con- 
 taining many old grave-stones and monuments. That was 
 Johnson's field. " 
 
 "How sad is the thought," observed Clara, "that one of the 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 19 
 
 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 
 
 MONUMENT AT NEW PLYM- 
 OUTH TO MARK THE SITE 
 OF THE LANDING OF THE 
 PLYMOUTH FATHERS 
 
 burial-grounds here, they would have been glad, after a few 
 years, to go back to England." Grandfather looked at Lau- 
 rence, to discover whether he knew how profound and true a 
 thing he had said. 
 
20 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "Grandfather, I want to hear more about your chair," said 
 Charley. 
 
 Now, Grandfather remembered that Charley had galloped 
 away upon a stick in the middle of the narrative of poor Lady 
 Arbella. But Laurence laid down his book, and seconded the 
 request. Clara drew her chair nearer to Grandfather; and 
 little Alice 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 settle- 
 ment of our country, and who would be worthy of remem- 
 brance, if we could find room to tell about them all. Among 
 the rest, Grandfather spoke of the famous Hugh Peters, a 
 minister of the gospel, who did much good to the inhabitants 
 of Salem. Peters afterwards went back to England, and was 
 chaplain to Oliver Cromwell; but Grandfather did not tell the 
 children what became of this upright and zealous man at last. 
 In fact, his auditors were growing impatient to hear more 
 about the history of the chair. 
 
 "After Johnson's death," said he, "Grandfather's chair 
 came into the possession of Roger Williams. He was a clergy- 
 man, who arrived at Salem, and settled there in 1631." 
 
 One incident 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 fol- 
 lows: 
 
 THE RED CROSS 
 
 While Roger Williams sat in Grandfather's chair at his 
 humble residence in Salem, John Endicott would often come 
 to visit him. As the clergy had great influence in temporal 
 
««*?:: '-«;'-*:: 
 
 ^ r^? S^' ?="*=> ^ "*"•' ^ 
 
 FORT DUMPLING, NEW PLYMOUTH 
 
22 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 subjec- 
 tion 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 Red Cross in the middle 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 would answer, 
 "you speak as an honest man and Protestant Christian should. 
 For mine own part, I should reckon it sinful to fight under 
 such a banner. Neither can I, in my pulpit, ask the blessing 
 of Heaven upon it." 
 
 Endicott, who was a prompt and resolute man, soon deter- 
 mined that Massachusetts, if she could not have a banner of 
 her own, should at least be delivered from that of the Pope of 
 Rome. Not long afterwards there was a military muster at 
 Salem. Every able-bodied man in the town and neighbor- 
 hood 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 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS IN THE FOREST 
 
24 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 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 Red Cross. 
 
 Endicott was the captain of the company. While the sol- 
 diers were expecting his orders to begin their exercise, they 
 saw him take the banner in one hand, holding his drawn sword 
 in the other. "Fellow soldiers, you see this old banner of 
 England. Some of you 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 ban- 
 ner. " And so he did. And thus, in a province belonging to 
 the crown of England, a captain was found bold enough to 
 deface the king's banner with his sword. 
 
 When Winthrop and the other wise men of Massachusetts 
 heard of it they were disquieted, being afraid that Endicott's 
 act would bring trouble upon himself and them. An account 
 of the matter was carried to King Charles, but he was then 
 so much engrossed by dissensions with his people that he had 
 no leisure to punish the offender. In other times it might 
 have cost Endicott his life, and Massachusetts her charter. 
 
 "I should like to know, Grandfather," said Laurence, when 
 the story was ended, "whether, when Endicott cut the Red 
 
26 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 consid- 
 eration except in its religious bearing. However, it was a 
 very remarkable affair, and a very strong expression of Puri- 
 tan 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. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 "Roger Williams, " said Grandfather, "did not keep posses- 
 sion of the chair a great while. His opinions of religious 
 matters differed, in many respects, from those of the rulers and 
 clergymen 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, Grandfather?" 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 Will- 
 iams. They had the power to deprive this good man of his 
 home, and to send him out from them in search of a new place 
 of rest. He was banished in 1624, 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 traveled into the forest and made 
 treaties with the Indians, and began a plantation which he 
 called Providence." 
 
EDWARD WINSLOW 
 
 (One of the early Governors) 
 
28 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "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 traveled 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." 
 
 "When he was driven from Massachusetts," said Laurence, 
 "and began his journey into the woods, he must have felt as 
 if he were burying himself forever from the sight and knowl- 
 edge 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 the best men of 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 was a very 
 sharp-witted and well-instructed lady, and used to hold lectures 
 in Boston twice a week, at which most of the women attended. 
 Mrs. Hutchinson 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 dis- 
 turbance; for the ministers of Boston did not think it safe and 
 proper that a woman should publicly instruct the people in 
 religious doctrines. Moreover, she made the matter worse by 
 declaring that the Rev. Mr. Cotton was the only sincerely 
 pious and holy clergyman in New England. Now, the clergy 
 of those days had quite as much share in the government of 
 the country, though indirectly, as the magistrates themselves; 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 29 
 
 so you may imagine what a host of powerful enemies were 
 raised up against Mrs. Hutchinson. 
 
 "She had many zealous friends and converts," continued 
 Grandfather, "and was favored by young Henry Vane who 
 
 SIR HENRY VANE 
 
 had come over from England a year or two before, and had 
 been chosen governor of the colony. But Winthrop and most 
 of the other leading men, as well as the ministers, felt an 
 abhorrence of her doctrines. Thus two opposite parties were 
 
30 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 formed; and so fierce were the dissensions that it was feared 
 the consequence would be civil war and bloodshed. But Win- 
 throp and the ministers being the most powerful, they dis- 
 armed 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 
 humane 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, who 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; but the controversy about Mrs. Hutchin- 
 son, and other troubles, caused him to leave the country in 
 1637. You may read the subsequent events of his life and his 
 tragic death upon the scaffold in the History of England." 
 
 In order that the children might fully understand the all- 
 important history of the chair, Grandfather now thought fit to 
 speak of the progress that was made in settling several col- 
 onies. The settlement of Plymouth, in 1620, has already been 
 mentioned. In 1635 Hooker and Stowe, two ministers, went 
 on foot through the pathless woods, taking their whole con- 
 gregation along with them. They founded the town of Hart- 
 ford. In 1638 Davenport, a noted minister, went with other 
 people, and began a plantation at New Haven. In the same 
 year, some persons who had been persecuted in Mass- 
 achusetts went to the Isle of Rhodes, since called Rhode 
 Island, and settled there. About this time, also, many 
 settlers had gone to Maine, and were living without any reg- 
 ular 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, 
 
WINTHROP AND THE INDIANS 
 
32 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 there were communities of Englishmen. Though these com- 
 munities 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 River was a 
 colony of Dutch, who had taken possession of that region 
 many years before and called it New Netherlands. 
 
 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. Grandfather was 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, found repose within its 
 comfortable arms. If Grandfather took pride in anything, it 
 was in being the possessor of such an historic elbow-chair 
 
 "I know not precisely who next got possession of the chair 
 after Governor Vane went back to England," said Grand- 
 father "But there is reason to believe that President Dun- 
 ster sat in it, when he held the first Commencement at Har- 
 vard College. You have often heard, children, how careful 
 our forefathers were to give their young people a good educa- 
 tion They had scarcely cut down trees enough to make room 
 for their own dwellings before they began to think of establish- 
 ing a college. Their principal object was to rear up pious 
 and learned ministers, and hence old writers call Harvard Col- 
 lege a school of the prophets." 
 
THE PURITAN AND THE SOLDIER 
 
 8 Chair 
 
34 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "Is the college a school of the prophets now?" asked 
 Charley. 
 
 "It is a long while since I took my degree, Charley. You 
 must ask some of the recent graduates," answered Grand- 
 father. "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 I must con- 
 fess that there is some uncertainty about the adventures of 
 the chair for almost ten years. Some say it was occupied by 
 your own ancestor, William Hawthorne, first Speaker of the 
 House of Representatives. 1 have nearly satisfied myself 
 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 Massachusetts sat in it at 
 the council board." 
 
 "But, Grandfather," interposed Charley, "what reason 
 have you to imagine so?" 
 
 "Pray do imagine it, Grandfather," said Laurence. "With 
 Charley's permission, I will," replied Grandfather, smiling. 
 "Let us consider it settled, therefore, that Winthrop, Belling- 
 ham, Dudley, and Endicott, each of them, when chosen gov- 
 ernor, took his seat in our great chair on election day." 
 
 And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather tediously 
 about the nature and forms of government that established 
 themselves, almost spontaneously, in Massachusetts and the 
 other New England colonies. 
 
 "But, Laurence," continued Grandfather, "when you want 
 instruction on these points, you must seek it in Bancroft's 
 History. I am merely telling the history of the 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 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 35 
 
 was still a quiet and natural growth. The legislature incor- 
 porated towns, and made new purchases of land 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 purpose of assisting each other 
 in difficulties, for mutual defense 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 colonies did not compose one nation together; it 
 was merely a confederacy among the governments. But to 
 return to our chair. In 1644 it was highly honored; for Gov- 
 ernor Endicott sat in it when he gave audience to an ambas- 
 sador from the French governor of Acadia, or Nova Scotia. 
 A treaty of peace between 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 country," said Grandfather. 
 "There was now a civil war in England; and the king had his 
 hands full at home, and could pay but little attention to these 
 remote colomes. 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 hearty 
 lad whose father and mother neglect it, was left to take care 
 of itself. In 1649 King Charles was beheaded. Oliver Crom- 
 well then became Protector of England; and as he was a Pur- 
 itan himself, and had risen by the valor of the English Puri- 
 tans, he showed himself a loving and indulgent father to the 
 Puritan colonists in America." 
 
36 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 "According to authentic records, my dear children," said 
 Grandfather, "the chair, about this time, had the misfortune 
 to break its leg. It was probably on account of this accident 
 that it ceased to be the seat of the governors of Massachusetts; 
 for, assuredly, it would have been ominous of evil to the com- 
 monwealth if the Chair of State nad tottered upon three legs. 
 Being sold at auction, it was knocked down to a certain Cap- 
 tain John Hull. The old gentleman, on 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!" exclaimed Charley, 
 throwing himself down on the floor to look at it. "And here 
 are the iron clamps. How well it is mended!" 
 
 When they had sufficiently examined the broken leg, Grand- 
 father told them a story about Captain John Hull and 
 
 THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS 
 
 Captain John Hull was the mint-master of Massachusetts, 
 and coined all the money that was made there. This was a 
 new line of business; for, in the earlier days of the colony, the 
 current coinage consisted of gold and silver money of Eng- 
 land, 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 with a pile of pine boards. 
 Musket-balls 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 
 
READING THE ROYAL PROCLAMATION 
 
38 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 current money was still 
 more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, the general court 
 passed a law for establishing a coinage of shillings, sixpence, 
 and threepence. John Hull was appointed to manufacture 
 this money, and was to have one shilling out of every twenty 
 to pay him for the trouble of making them. 
 
 Hereupon all the old silver in the old colony was handed 
 over to Hull. The battered silver cans and tankards, and sil- 
 ver 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, six- 
 pences, 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, 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 
 Hull declared himself satisfied with the shilling. And well 
 he might be; for so diligently did he labor that, in a few 
 years, his strong box was overflowing with pine-tree shillings. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 39 
 
 When the mint-master had grown rich, a young man, Sam- 
 uel Sewell by name, came a-courting to his only daughter. 
 His daughter — we will call her Betsey — was a fine, hearty 
 damsel, by no means so slender as some young ladies of our 
 own days. On the contrary, having always fed heartily on 
 pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian puddings, 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 
 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, John Hull dressed himself in a plum- 
 colored coat, all the buttons of which were made of pine-tree 
 shillings. The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences; and 
 the knees of his small-clothes were buttoned with silver three- 
 pences. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity in Grand- 
 father's chair, and he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. 
 On the opposite side of the room, between her bridesmaids, 
 sat Miss Betsey, blushing with all her might, and looking like 
 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 forbidden any man to wear it below the ears. But he 
 was a very personable young man; and so thought the brides- 
 maids and Betsey herself. 
 
 The mint-master was pleased with his new son-in-law, 
 especially as he had courted Betsey out of pure love, and had 
 said nothing at all about her portion. So when the marriage 
 ceremony was over, Hull whispered a word to two of his men 
 servants, who went out, and soon returned, lugging in a large 
 pair of scales. They were such a pair as merchants use for 
 
40 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 weighing bulky commodities, and quite a bulky commodity 
 was now to be weighed in them. 
 
 "Daughter Betsey," said the mint-master, "get into one 
 side of these scales." 
 
 Miss Betsey — or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call her — 
 did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, without any question 
 of the why and wherefore. But what her father could mean, 
 unless to make her husband pay for her by the pound (in 
 which case she would have been a dear bargain), she had not 
 the least idea. 
 
 "And now," said honest John Hull to the servants, "bring 
 that box hither." 
 
 The box to which the mint-master pointed was a huge, 
 square, iron-bound, oaken chest. The servants tugged with 
 might and main, but could not lift this enormous receptacle, 
 and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. 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 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 pon- 
 derous as she was, they fairly weighed the young lady from 
 the floor. "There, son Sewell!" cried the honest mint-mas- 
 ter, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair. "Take these 
 shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her kindly, and 
 thank Heaven for her. It is not every wife that's worth her 
 weight in silver!" 
 
 The children laughed heartily at this legend, and would 
 hardly be convinced but that Grandfather had made it out of 
 his own head. He assured them faithfully, however, that he 
 
GEORGE FOX, THE FIRST QUAKER 
 
42 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 had found it in the pages of a grave historian, and had merely 
 tried to tell it in a somewhat funnier style. As for Samuel 
 Sewell, he afterwards became Chief Justice of Massachusetts. 
 "Well, Grandfather," remarked Clara, "if wedding portions 
 nowadays were paid as Miss Betsey's was, young ladies would 
 not pride themselves upon an airy figure, as many of them do. ' ' 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 When his little audience next assembled round the chair, 
 Grandfather gave them a doleful history of the Quaker perse- 
 cution, 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 the gov- 
 ernment 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 with which these enthusi- 
 asts 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 were 
 amazed to hear that the more the Quakers were scourged, and 
 imprisoned, and banished, the more did the sect increase, 
 both by the influx of strangers and by converts from among 
 the Puritans. But Grandfather told them that God had put 
 something into the soul of man which always turned the cruel- 
 ties of the persecutor to nought. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 43 
 
 He went on to relate that, in 1659, two Quakers, named 
 William Robinson and Marmaduke Stephenson, 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 
 Boston, 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 middle of 
 it they dragged her to prison. 
 
 "And was she executed?" asked Laurence. 
 
 "She was," said Grandfather. 
 
 "Grandfather," cried Charley, clinching his fist, "I would 
 have fought for that poor Quaker woman!" 
 
 "Ah! but if a sword had been drawn for her," said Lau- 
 rence, "it would have taken away all the beauty of her death. " 
 
 It seems as if hardly any of the preceding stories had thrown 
 such an interest around Grandfather's chair as did the fact 
 that the poor, persecuted, 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 D) r er was executed, " 
 said he, "Charles the Second was restored to the throne of his 
 fathers. This king had many vices; but he would not permit 
 blood to be shed, under pretense of religion, in any part of 
 his dominions. The Quakers in England told him what had 
 been done to their brethren in Massachusetts; and he sent 
 orders to Governor Endicott to forbear all such proceedings in 
 future. And so ended the Quaker persecution — one of the 
 most mournful passages in the history of our forefathers." 
 
 Grandfather then told his auditors that, shortly after the 
 
44 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 above incident, the great chair had been given by the mint- 
 master to John Eliot. He was the first minister of Roxbury. 
 Besides attending to the pastoral duties there, he learned the 
 language of the red men, and often went into the woods to 
 preach to them. So earnestly did he labor for their conver- 
 sion that he has always been called the Apostle to the Indians. 
 The mention of this holy man suggested to Grandfather the 
 propriety of giving a brief sketch of the history of the Indians, 
 so far as they were connected with the English colonists. 
 
 A short period before the arrival of the first Pilgrims 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. 
 
 In many places the English found the wigwams deserted and 
 the corn-fields growing to waste, with none to harvest the 
 grain. In 1633, and the year afterwards, the smallpox broke 
 out among the Massachusetts Indians, multitudes of whom 
 died by this terrible disease of the Old World. These misfor- 
 tunes made them far less powerful than they had formerly 
 been. 
 
 For nearly fifty years after the arrival of the English the red 
 men showed themselves inclined to peace and amity. They 
 often made submission when they might have made successful 
 war. The Plymouth settlers, led by the famous Miles Stan- 
 dish, slew some of them, in 1623, without any very evident 
 necessity for so doing. In 1636, and the following year, there 
 was the most dreadful war that had yet occurred between the 
 Indians and the English. The Connecticut settlers, assisted 
 by a celebrated Indian chief named Uncas, bore the brunt of 
 this war, with but little aid from Massachusetts. Many hun- 
 dreds of the hostile Indians were slain or burned in their wig- 
 wams. Sassacus, their sachem, fled to another tribe, after his 
 own people were defeated; but he was murdered by them, and 
 his head was sent to his English enemies. 
 
€tf£^ ^gj)) 
 
 'j -i v- 
 
 CONVERTING THE INDIANS 
 
46 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 allowed to keep possession of this beautiful coun- 
 try till the white men should be in want of it." 
 
 "Did the pious men of those days never try to make Chris- 
 tians of them?" asked Laurence. 
 
 "Sometimes," 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 the wild bear of 
 the woods and making him fit for paradise. They felt no 
 faith in the success of any such attempts, because they had no 
 love for the poor Indians. Now, Eliot was full of love for 
 them; and therefore so full of faith and hope, that he spent 
 the labor of a lifetime in their behalf." 
 
 "I would have conquered them first, and then converted 
 them," said Charley. 
 
 "Ah, Charley, there spoke the very spirit of our fore- 
 fathers!" replied Grandfather. "But 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 wan- 
 dering 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 
 how to pray. Hence they were called 'praying Indians.' 
 Finally, having spent the best years of his life for their good, 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 47 
 
 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 Grandfather, "and 
 began a translation of the Bible into the Indian tongue. It 
 was while he was engaged in this pious work that the mint- 
 master gave him our great chair. His toil needed it, and 
 deserved it." 
 
 "O Grandfather, tell us all about that Indian Bible!" 
 exclaimed Laurence. "I have seen it in the library of the 
 Athenaeum ; and the tears came into my eyes to think that 
 there were no Indians left to read it." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 As Grandfather was a great admirer of the Apostle Eliot, 
 he was glad to comply with the earnest request which Lau- 
 rence had made at the close of the last chapter. So he pro- 
 ceeded to describe how the good 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 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 whole book should be changed, — 
 
48 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 what would induce you 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 were the descendants of those lost tribes of Israel 
 of whom history has been able to tell us nothing for thousands 
 of years. 
 
 Sometimes he was visited by learned men, who desired to 
 know what literary undertaking Eliot had in hand. Then 
 would the apostle call to him an Indian boy, one of his scholars, 
 and show him the manuscript which had so puzzled the 
 learned Englishmen. 
 
 "Read this, my child," said he; "these are some brethren 
 of mine, who would fain hear the sound of thy native 
 tongue." 
 
 Then would the Indian boy cast his eyes over the mysteri- 
 ous page, and read it so skillfully that it sounded like wild 
 music. It seemed as if the forest leaves were singing in the 
 ears of his auditors, and as if the roar of distant streams were 
 poured through the young Indian's voice. Such were the 
 sounds amid which the language of the red men had been 
 formed; and they were still heard to echo in it. 
 
 The lesson being over, 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 chil- 
 dren, 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 char- 
 acter so well, nor possessed so great an influence over the 
 New England tribes, as the apostle did. His advice and 
 assistance must often have been valuable to his countrymen, 
 in their transactions with the Indians. He dared hardly relax 
 a moment from his toil on the Eible. He felt that, in the 
 
4Chair 
 
 PURITANS BEFORE JAMES I. 
 
50 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 book which he was translating, there was a deep human as 
 well as heavenly wisdom, which would of itself suffice to civ- 
 ilize and refine the savage tribes. Let the Bible be diffused 
 among them, and all earthly good would follow. 
 
 Impelled by such thoughts as these, he sat writing in tne 
 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!" 
 
 "My heart is not satisfied to think," observed Laurence, 
 "that 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 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 acknowl- 
 edged 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 receive the kiss of so sweet a child as little 
 Alice and would think it a portion of his reward in Heaven. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 51 
 
 Grandfather now 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 
 Eliot had vainly endeavored to convert to the Christian 
 faith. 
 
 "It must have been a great anguish to the apostle," con- 
 tinued Grandfather, "to hear of mutual slaughter and outrage 
 between his own countrymen and those for whom he felt the 
 affection of a father. A few of the praying Indians joined the 
 followers of King Philip. A greater number fought on the side 
 of the English. In the course of the war the little community 
 of red people whom Eliot had begun to civilize was scattered, 
 and never restored to a flourishing condition. But his zeal 
 did not grow cold; and only about five years before his death 
 he took great pains in preparing a new edition of the Indian 
 Bible." 
 
 "I do wish, Grandfather," cried Charley, "you would tell 
 us all about the battles in King Philip's War." 
 
 "Oh, no!" exclaimed Clara. "Who wants to hear about 
 tomahawks and scalping-kniveb?" 
 
 "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 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." 
 
52 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 The children were now accustomed toassembls round Grand- 
 father's chair at all their unoccupied moments; and often it 
 was a striking picture to behold the white-headed old sire, 
 with his 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. 
 
 So Grandfather, with renewed cheerfulness, continued 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 back- 
 ward as far as the year 1660. He spoke of the ill-concealed 
 reluctance with which the Puritans in America had acknowl- 
 edged the sway of Charles the Second on his restoration to 
 his father's throne. When death had stricken Oliver Crom- 
 well, 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 Bos- 
 ton; although the neglect to perform the ceremony might 
 have subjected the rulers to the charge of treason. During 
 the reign of Charles the Second, the American colonies had 
 but little reason to complain of tyrannical treatment. But 
 when Charles died, in 1685, and was succeeded by his brother 
 James, the patriarchs of New England began to tremble. 
 King James was a bigoted Roman Catholic, and was known 
 to be of an arbitrary temper. It was feared by all Protes- 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 63 
 
 tants, 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. 
 
 KING CHARLES II. OF ENGLAND 
 
 The result proved that they had reason for their apprehen- 
 sions. 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 founda- 
 tion of all their liberties, was declared void. The colonists 
 
54 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 were now no longer freemen ; they were entirely dependent 
 on the king's pleasure. At first, in 1685, King James 
 appointed Joseph Dudley, a native of Massachusetts, to be 
 president of New England. But soon afterwards Edmund 
 Andros, an officer of the English army, arrived, with a com- 
 mission to be governor-general of New England and New 
 York. 
 
 The king had given such powers to 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 
 representatives, and consequently had no voice whatever in 
 the government, nor control over the measures that were 
 adopted. The counselors with whom the governor consulted 
 on matters of state were appointed by himself. 
 
 "The people suffered much wrong while 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 fortress on Castle 
 Island and of the fortifications on Fort Hill. Sometimes it 
 was rumored that a general massacre of the inhabitants was 
 to be perpetrated by these soldiers. There were reports, too, 
 that all the ministers were to be slain or imprisoned." 
 
 "For what?" inquired Charley. 
 
 "Because they were the leaders of the people, Charley," 
 said Grandfather. "A minister was a more formidable man 
 than a general in those days. Well, while these things were 
 going on in America, King James had so misgoverned the 
 people of England that they sent over to Holland for the 
 Prince of Orange. He had married the king's daughter, and 
 was therefore considered to have a claim to the crown. On 
 his arrival in England, the Prince of Orange was proclaimed 
 king, by the name of William the Third. Poor old King 
 James made his escape to France." 
 
 Grandfather told how, at the first intelligence of the landing 
 of the Prince of Orange in England, the people of Massa- 
 
tf^/ryri i>* 
 
 JAMES II. PROCLAIMED, IN BOSTON 
 
56 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 chusetts rose in their strength and overthrew the Andros gov- 
 ernment. He, with Joseph Dudley, Edmund Randolph, and 
 his other principal adherents, was thrown into prison. Old 
 Simon Bradstreet, who had been governor when King James 
 took away the charter, was called by the people to govern 
 them again. 
 
 "Governor Bradstreet was a venerable old man, nearly 
 ninety years of age," said Grandfather. "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 auditors. He then pro- 
 ceeded: "And now, Laurence — now, Clara — now, Charley 
 — now, my dear little Alice — what chair do you think had 
 been placed in the council chamber, for old Governor Brad- 
 street 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 remembrance, and even since his mature age, the 
 site where now stood the populous town had been a wild and 
 forest-covered peninsula. The province, now so fertile and 
 spotted with thriving villages, had been a deserted 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, 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 57 
 
 he must have felt that it was now time for him to go whither 
 his brethren had gone before him." 
 
 SIR EDMUND ANDROS 
 
 "Were the former governors all dead and gone?" asked 
 Laurence, 
 
58 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "All of them," replied Grandfather. "Winthrop had been 
 dead forty years. Endicott died, a very old man, in 1665. 
 Vane was beheaded in London. And Haynes, Dudley, Bel- 
 lingham, and Leverett, who had all been governors of Massa- 
 chusetts, were now likewise in their graves. Old Simon 
 Bradstreet was the sole representative of that departed brother- 
 hood. 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 Grandfather; "but 
 perhaps clay, or some other perishable material, might suffice 
 for some of their successors. But let us go back to our chair. 
 It was occupied by Governor Bradstreet from April, 1689, 
 until May, 1692. William Phips 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 the gov- 
 ernor happened to see it, and, being much pleased with its 
 construction, resolved to take the good old chair into his private 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 59 
 
 mansion. Accordingly, with his own 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 William Phips put 
 in these screws with his own hands? I am sure he did it 
 beautifully! But how came a governor to know how to mend 
 a chair?" 
 
 "I will tell you a story about the early life of William Phips," 
 said Grandfather. "You will then perceive that he well knew 
 how to use his hands." So Grandfather related the wonder- 
 ful and true tale of 
 
 THE SUNKEN TREASURE 
 
 Picture to yourselves a handsome, old-fashioned room, with 
 a large, open cupboard at one end, in which is displayed a 
 magnificent gold cup, with some other splendid articles of gold 
 and silver plate. In another part of the room, opposite to a 
 tall looking-glass, stands our beloved chair, newly polished, 
 and adorned with a gorgeous cushion of crimson velvet, tufted 
 with gold. 
 
 In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame, whose 
 face has been roughened by northern tempests and blackened 
 by the burning sun of the West Indies. He wears an immense 
 periwig, flowing down over his shoulders. His coat has a wide 
 embroidery of golden foliage; and his waistcoat, likewise, is all 
 flowered over and bedizened with gold. His red, rough 
 hands, which have done many a good day's work with the 
 hammer and adze, are half covered by the delicate lace ruffles 
 at his wrists. On a table lies his silver-hilted sword; and in 
 the corner of the room stands his gold-headed cane, made of 
 a beautifully polished West India wood. Somewhat such an 
 aspect as this did Phips present when he sat in Grandfather's 
 chair after the king had appointed him governor of Massa- 
 chusetts. 
 
 But Sir William Phips had not always worn a gold-embroid- 
 
60 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 ered 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 in his boyhood and youth he 
 used to tend sheep upon the hills. Until he had grown to be 
 a man, he did not even know how to read and write. Tired 
 of tending sheep, he 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 before 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 he should be very 
 rich, and would build a "fair brick house" in the Green Lane 
 of Boston. 
 
 Several years passed away; and Phips had not yet gained 
 the riches which he promised to 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 Porto de la Plata. She had now lain for fifty years 
 beneath the waves. This old ship had been laden with 
 immense wealth; and 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, 
 Phips resolved that the sunken treasure should again be 
 brought to light. 
 
 He went to London and obtained admittance to King 
 James, who had not yet been driven from his throne. He 
 told the king of the vast wealth that was lying at the bottom 
 of the sea. King James listened with attention, and thought 
 this a fine opportunity to fill his treasury with Spanish gold. 
 He appointed William Phips to be captain of a vessel, called 
 the Rose Algier, carrying eighteen guns and ninety-five men. 
 So now he was Captain Phips of the English navy. 
 
WILLIAM III., PRINCE OF ORANGE 
 
62 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Captain Phips sailed from England and cruised for two years 
 in the West Indies, trying to find the wrecked Spanish ship. 
 But the sea is so wide and deep that it is no easy matter to 
 discover the exact spot where a sunken vessel lies. The 
 prospect of success seemed very small, and most people 
 thought that Phips was as far from having money enough to 
 build a "fair brick house" as he was while he tended sheep. 
 
 The seamen became discouraged, and gave up all hope of 
 making their fortunes by discovering the Spanish wreck. 
 They wanted Phips to turn pirate. There was a much better 
 prospect of growing rich by plundering vessels which still 
 sailed in the sea than by seeking for a ship that had lain 
 beneath the waves full half a century. They broke out in 
 open mutiny, but were finally mastered by Phips, and com- 
 pelled to obey his orders. It would have been dangerous to 
 continue much longer at sea with such a crew of mutinous 
 sailors; and the ship was unseaworthy. So Phips judged it 
 best to return to England. 
 
 Before leaving the West Indies, he met with an old Spaniard 
 who remembered the wreck of the Spanish ship, and gave 
 him directions how to find the very spot. It was on a reef 
 of rocks, a few leagues from Porto de la Plata. 
 
 On his arrival in England, Phips solicited the king to let 
 him have another vessel and send him back again to the West 
 Indies. But King James refused to have anything more to 
 do with the affair. Phips might never have been able to 
 renew the search if the Duke of Albemarle and some other 
 noblemen had not lent their assistance. They fitted out a 
 ship, and he sailed from England, and arrived safely at La 
 Plata, where he took an adze and assisted his men to build a 
 large boat. 
 
 The boat was intended for going closer to the rocks than a 
 la/ge 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 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 63 
 
 accompanied by some Indians, who were skillful 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 gazed 
 down into the transparent water. Nothing could they see 
 more valuable than a curious sea shrub growing beneath 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 learned 
 some news at the bottom of the sea. "There are some ship's 
 guns," said he, the moment he had drawn breath, "some 
 great cannon, among the rocks, near where the shrub was 
 growing." 
 
 No sooner had he spoken than the English sailors knew that 
 they had found the spot where the Spanish galleon had been 
 wrecked, so many years before. The other Indian divers 
 plunged over the boat's side and swam headlong down, grop- 
 ing among the rocks and sunken cannon. In a few moments 
 one of them rose above the water with a heavy lump of silver 
 in his arms. That single lump was worth more than a thou- 
 sand dollars. The sailors took it into the boat, and then 
 rowed back as speedily as they could, being in haste to inform 
 Captain Phips of their good luck. 
 
 But, confidently as the Captain had hoped to find the Span- 
 ish 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 Phips. "We shall every man of us make our fortunes!" 
 
 Hereupon the captain and all the crew set to work, with 
 iron rakes and great hooks and lines, fishing for gold and sil- 
 
64 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 ver at the bottom of the sea. Up came the treasures in abun- 
 dance. Now they beheld a table of solid silver, once the 
 property of an old Spanish Grandee. Now they found a sac- 
 ramental vessel, which had been destined as a gift to some 
 Catholic church. Now they drew up a golden cup, fit for the 
 king of Spain to drink his wine out of. Now their rakes were 
 loaded with the 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. 
 
 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 cov- 
 ered 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 mil- 
 lions of dollars. It was dangerous even to look at such a vast 
 amount of wealth. A captain, who had assisted Phips in the 
 enterprise, lost his reason at the sight of it. He died two 
 years afterward, still raving about the treasures that lie at the 
 bottom of the sea. 
 
 Phips and his men continued to fish up plate, bullion, and 
 dollars, as plentifully as ever till their provisions grew short. 
 Then, as they could not feed upon gold and silver any more 
 than old King Midas could, they found it necessary to go in 
 search of better sustenance. Phips returned to England, 
 arriving there in 16S7, and was received with great joy by the 
 Albemarles and other English lords who had fitted out the 
 vessel. Well they might rejoice; for they took the greater 
 part of the treasures to themselves. 
 
 The captain's share, however, was enough to make him 
 
5 Chair 
 
66 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 comfortable for the rest of his days. It also enabled him to 
 fulfill his promise to his wife, by building a "fair brick house" 
 in the Green Lane of Boston. The Duke of Albemarle sent 
 Mrs. Phips a magnificent gold cup, worth at least five thousand 
 dollars. Before Captain Phips left London, King James made 
 him a knight; so that, instead of the obscure ship-carpenter 
 who had formerly dwelt among them, the inhabitants of Bos- 
 ton welcomed him on his return as the rich and famous Sir 
 William Phips. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 "Phips," continued Grandfather, "was too active and 
 adventurous a man to sit still in the quiet enjoyment of his 
 good fortune. In the year 1690 he went on a military expedi- 
 tion against the French colonies in America, conquered the 
 whole province of Acadia, 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 Grandfather, with 
 a smile. "Well, in the same year, Phips 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, 
 having followed Phips through all his adventures and hard- 
 ships 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!" 
 
 Good old Grandfather now rose and quitted the room, while 
 the children remained gazing at the chair. Laurence, so 
 vivid was his conception of past times, would hardly have 
 deemed it strange if its former occupants, one after another, 
 had resumed the seat which they had each left vacant such a 
 dim length of years ago. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 67 
 
 First, the gentle and lovely Lady Arbella would have been 
 seen in the old chair, almost sinking out of its arms from very 
 weakness; then Roger Williams, in his cloak and band, ear- 
 nest, energetic, and benevolent; then the figure of Anne 
 Hutchinson, with the like gesture as when she presided at the 
 assemblage 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 per- 
 secuted Quaker woman, clad in sackcloth and ashes, would 
 have rested in it for a moment. Then the holy apostolic form 
 of Eliot would have sanctified it. Then would have arisen, 
 like the shade of departed Puritanism, the venerable dignity 
 of the white-bearded Governor Bradstreet. Lastly, on the 
 gorgeous crimson cushion of Grandfather's chair, would have 
 shone the purple and golden magnificence of Sir William Phips. 
 
 But, all these, with the other historic personages, among 
 whom the chair had so often stood, had passed, both in sub- 
 stance and shadow, from the scene of ages! Yet here stood 
 the chair, with the old Lincoln coat-of-arms, and the oaken 
 flowers and foliage, and the fierce lion's head at the summit, 
 the whole, apparently, in as perfect preservation as when it 
 had first been placed in the Earl of Lincoln's hall. And what 
 vast changes of society and of nations had been wrought by 
 sudden convulsions or by slow degrees since that era! "This 
 chair had stood firm when the thrones of kings had over- 
 turned!" thought Laurence. "Its oaken frame has proved 
 stronger than many frames of government!" 
 
Famous Old People 
 
 THE SECOND EPOCH OF GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "You recollect," said Grandfather, "that we took leave of 
 the chair in 1692, while it was occupied by Sir William Phips. 
 This fortunate treasure-seeker, you will remember, had come 
 over from England, with King William's commission, to be 
 governor of Massachusetts. Within the limits of this province 
 were now included the old colony of Plymouth and the terri- 
 tories of Maine and Nova Scotia. Phips had likewise brought 
 a new charter from the king, which served instead of a con- 
 stitution, and set forth the method in which the province was 
 to be governed." 
 
 "Did the new charter allow the people all their former lib- 
 erties?" inquired Laurence. 
 
 "No," replied Grandfather. "Under the first charter, the 
 people had been the source of all power. Winthrop, Endicott, 
 Bradstreet, and the rest of them, had been governors by the 
 choice of the people, without any interference of the king. 
 But while the people were still allowed to choose representa- 
 tives, the governor's council was chosen by the general court. " 
 
 "Would the inhabitants have elected Phips," asked Lau- 
 rence, "if the choice of governor had been left to them?" 
 
 "He might probably have been a successful candidate," 
 answered Grandfather; "for he had many popular character- 
 istics, being a kind, warm-hearted man, not ashamed of his 
 low origin nor haughty in his present elevation. Soon after 
 
 68 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 69 
 
 his arrival, he proved that he did not blush to recognize his 
 former associates." 
 
 "How was that?" inquired Charley. 
 
 COTTON MATHER 
 
 "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, 
 
70 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 sat Sir William Phips himself, treating these hard-handed men 
 as his brethren, cracking jokes with them, and talking famil- 
 iarly about old times." 
 
 "An aristocrat need not be ashamed of the trade," said 
 Laurence; "for the Czar, Peter the Great, of Russia, once 
 served an apprenticeship to it. " 
 
 "Did Phips make as good a governor as he was a ship-car- 
 penter?" asked Charley. 
 
 "History says but little about his merits as a ship-carpen- 
 ter, " answered Grandfather; "but, as a governor, a great 
 deal of fault was found with him. Almost as soon as he 
 assumed the government, he became engaged in the witch- 
 craft delusion. " 
 
 And here Grandfather gave his auditors such details of this 
 melancholy affair as he thought fit for them to know. They 
 shuddered to hear that frenzy, which led to the death of many 
 innocent persons, had originated in the wicked arts of a few 
 children. They belonged to the Rev. Mr. Parris, minister of 
 Salem. These children complained of being pinched 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 
 middle 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. From the foundation of New England, it had been 
 the custom of the inhabitants, in all matters of doubt and 
 difficulty, to look to their ministers for counsel. So they did 
 now; but, unfortunately, the ministers and the wise men 
 were more deluded than the illiterate people. Cotton Mather, 
 a very learned clergyman, believed that the whole country 
 was full of witches who had given up their hopes of Heaven, 
 and signed a covenant with the Evil One. 
 
 The number of those who pretended to be afflicted by witch. 
 
72 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 craft grew daily more numerous; and they bore testimony 
 against many of the worthiest people. A minister, named 
 George Burroughs, was among the accused. In the months 
 of August and September, 1 692, 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. Willard, a pious minister of Boston, was 
 cried out upon as a wizard in open court. Mrs. Hale, the wife 
 of the minister of Beverly, was likewise accused. Philip 
 English, a rich merchant of Salem, found it necessary to take 
 flight, leaving his property and business in confusion. But a 
 short time afterwards, the Salem people were glad to invite 
 him back. 
 
 "The boldest thing that the accusers did, " continued Grand- 
 father, "was to cry out against the governor's own beloved 
 wife. Yes; the lady of Sir William Phips 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. "Ever, 
 if there were any witches, they would flee away from the 
 presence of a pure-hearted child. But there are none; and 
 our forefathers soon became convinced that they had been led 
 into a terrible delusion. All the prisoners on account of 
 witchcraft were set free. But the innocent dead could not be 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 73 
 
 restored to life; and the hill where they were executed will 
 always remind the people of the saddest and most humiliat- 
 ing passage in our history. ' ' 
 
 Grandfather then said that the next remarkable event, while 
 Phips remained in the chair, was the arrival at Boston of an 
 English fleet in 1693. It brought an army which was intended 
 for the conquest of Canada. But a malignant disease broke 
 out among the soldiers and sailors, and destroyed the greater 
 part of them. The infection spread into the town of Boston, 
 and made much havoc there. This dreadful sickness caused 
 the governor and the commander of the British forces to give 
 up all thoughts of attacking Canada. 
 
 "Soon after this," said Grandfather, "complaints were car- 
 ried to the king, and Phips was summoned to England to make 
 the best answer he could. Accordingly, he went to London, 
 where, in 1695, he was seized with a fever, of which he died." 
 
 "Why, Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, "what magnifi- 
 cent ideas the governor had! Only think of recovering all 
 that old treasure which had laid almost two centuries under 
 the sea! Methinks Phips ought to have been buried in the 
 ocean when he died, so that he might have gone down among 
 the sunken ships and cargoes of treasure which he was always 
 dreaming about in his lifetime." 
 
 "He was buried in one of the crowded cemeteries of Lon- 
 don." said Grandfather. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 "At the death of Phips," proceeded Grandfather, "our chair 
 was bequeathed to Ezekiel Cheever, a famous schoolmaster 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. Master Ezekiel Cheever died in 
 1707, after having taught school about seventy years. It 
 
74 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. Almost all the great men of that period had been 
 whipped into eminence by Master Cheever. Moreover, he 
 had written a Latin Accidence, 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 schoolboys." 
 
 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 Cotlon Mather, minister of 
 the Old North Church in Boston. 
 
 As Cotton Mather was a very distinguished man, Grand- 
 father 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. These were in English, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, 
 Chaldaic, and all other languages that either originated at the 
 confusion of Babel or have since come into use. 
 
 In the middle of the room stood a table, on which, besides 
 printed volumes, were strewn 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. 
 
 "It is difficult, my children," observed Grandfather, "to 
 make you understand such a character as Cotton Mather's, in 
 whom there was so much good, and yet so many failings and 
 frailties. Undoubtedly he was a pious man. Often he kept 
 fasts; and once, for three whole days, he allowed himself not 
 a morsel of food, but spent the time in prayer and religious 
 
MASSACRE OF SETTLERS BY THE INDIANS 
 
76 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 meditation. Many a livelong night did he watch and pray. 
 These feasts and vigils made him meager and haggard, and 
 probably caused him to appear as if he hardly belonged to the 
 world." 
 
 "Was not the witchcraft delusion partly caused by Cotton 
 Mather?" inquired Laurence. 
 
 "He was the chief agent of the mischief," answered Grand- 
 father; "but we will not suppose that he acted otherwise than 
 conscientiously. He believed that there were evil spirits all 
 about the world." 
 
 Here Grandfather was interrupted by little Alice, who hid 
 her face in his lap, and murmured a wish that he would not 
 talk any more about Cotton Mather and the evil spirits. 
 Grandfather kissed her and told her that angels were the only 
 spirits whom she had anything to do with. He then spoke of 
 the public affairs of the period. 
 
 A new war between France and England had broken out in 
 1702, and had been raging ever since. In the course of it, 
 New England suffered much injury from the French and 
 Indians, who often came through the woods from Canada and 
 assaulted the frontier town. Villages were sometimes burned, 
 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 
 undertook military expeditions against Acadia and Canada, 
 and sometimes besieged the fortresses by which those terri- 
 tories were defended. But the earnest wish of their hearts 
 was to take Quebec, and so get possession of the whole prov- 
 ince of Canada. Phips had once attempted it, but without 
 success. 
 
 Fleets and soldiers were often sent from England to assist 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 77 
 
 the colonists in their warlike undertakings. In 1710 Port 
 Royal, a fortress of Acadia, was taken by the English. The 
 next year, a fleet, commanded by Admiral Walker, arrived in 
 Boston Harbor. On board of this fleet was the English 
 General Hill, with seven regiments of soldiers. In 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 pulpit 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, 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 Grandfather. "However, no 
 more attempts were made during this war, which came to a 
 close in 1 7 13. The people of New England were probably 
 glad of some repose; for their young men had been made sol- 
 diers, till many of them were fit for nothing else. And those 
 who remained at home had been heavily taxed to pay for the 
 arms, ammunition, fortifications, and all the other endless 
 expenses of a war." 
 
 The next event which Grandfather spoke of was the acces- 
 sion of the Elector of Hanover to the throne of England, in 
 1 7 14, 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 ban- 
 ished King James, would be restored to the throne. In that 
 case, as the Stuart family were Roman Catholics, it was sup- 
 
78 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 posed that they would attempt to establish their own religion 
 throughout the British dominions. But the Elector of Han- 
 over and all his race were Protestants; so that now the 
 descendants of the old Puritans were relieved from many fears 
 and disquietudes. 
 
 "The importance of this event," observed Grandfather, 
 "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. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "Governor William Shirley," said Grandfather, "came from 
 England, and began to practice law in Boston. He was as 
 stirring and active a governor as Massachusetts ever had 
 Even Phips hardly equaled him. The first year or two of his 
 administration was spent in trying to regulate the currency. 
 But in 1744, after a peace of more than thirty years, war 
 broke out between France and England." 
 
 "And I suppose," said Charley, "the governor went to take 
 Canada. " 
 
 "Not exactly, Charley," said Grandfather; "though you 
 have made a pretty shrewd conjecture. He planned, in 1745, 
 an expedition against Louisburg. This was a fortified city, 
 on the Island of Cape Breton, near Nova Scotia. Its walls 
 were of immense height and strength, and were defended by 
 hundreds of heavy cannon. It was the strongest fortress 
 
NEW ENGLANDERS BEFORE LOUISBURG 
 
80 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 which the French possessed in America; and if the king of 
 France had guessed Governor Shirley's intentions, would 
 have sent all the ships he could muster to protect it." 
 
 The siege of Louisburg was one of the most remarkable 
 events that ever the inhabitants of New England were 
 engaged in. We shall call it 
 
 THE PROVINCIAL MUSTER 
 
 The expedition against Louisburg first began to be thought 
 of in the month of January. From that time the governor's 
 chair was continually surrounded by counselors, representa- 
 tives, 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 possession 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 Massachusetts 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 the crusade against the French. All these provinces agreed 
 to give what assistance they could. 
 
 Nothing now was so valuable as arms, of whatever style and 
 fashion they might be. The bellows blew, and the hammer 
 clanged continually upon the anvil, while the blacksmiths 
 were repairing the broken weapons of other wars. Doubtless 
 some of the soldiers lugged out those enormous heavy muskets 
 which used to be fired, with a rest, 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 
 treasures. Pikes which, perhaps, had been handled by Miles 
 Standish's soldiers, now made their appearance again. Many 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 81 
 
 a young man ransacked the garret and brought forth his great- 
 grandfather's sword, corroded with rust and stained with the 
 blood of King Philip's War. 
 
 Rub-a-dub-dub! 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 plow-handles, and 
 marched without any time or tune. Hither they came, from 
 the corn-fields, from the clearing in the forest, from the black- 
 smith'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 bosom which is more essential to soldiership 
 than to wear red coats and march in stately ranks to the sound 
 of regular music. 
 
 At length, on March 24, 1745, the army set sail from Boston 
 in twelve vessels which had been hired by the governor. A 
 few days afterwards an English fleet, commanded by Com- 
 modore Warren, sailed also for Louisburgto assist the provin- 
 cial army. So now, after all this bustle of preparation, the 
 town and province were left in stillness and repose. 
 
 But stillness and repose, at such a time of anxious expecta- 
 tion, are hard to bear. The hearts of the old people and 
 women sunk within them when they reflected what perils they 
 had sent their sons, and husbands, and brothers to encounter. 
 All the ministers prayed earnestly in their pulpits for a bless- 
 ing on the army of New England. In every family, when 
 the good man lifted up his heart in domestic worship, the 
 burden of his petition was for the safety of those dear ones 
 who were fighting under the walls of Louisburg. 
 
 Governor Shirley all this time was probably in an ecstasy 
 of impatience. He found no quiet, not even in Grandfather's 
 chair; but hurried to and fro, and up and down the staircase 
 
 6 Chair 
 
82 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. A few weeks after the departure of 
 the troops, the Commodore sent a small vessel to Boston with 
 two French prisoners, who assured Shirley that the fortifica- 
 tions of Louisburg were too strong ever to be stormed by the 
 provincial army. 
 
 Day after day and week after week went on. The people 
 grew heart-sick with anxiety; for the flower of the country 
 was at peril in this adventurous expedition. It was now day- 
 break on the morning of the third of July. 
 
 But hark! what sound is this? The hurried clang of a bell! 
 There is the Old North pealing suddenly out! — there the Old 
 South strikes in! — now the peal comes from the church in 
 Brattle street! — the bells of nine or ten steeples are all fling- 
 ing their iron voices at once upon the morning breeze! Is it 
 joy, or alarm? There goes the roar of a cannon, too! A royal 
 salute is thundered forth. And now we hear the loud exult- 
 ing shout of a multitude assembled in the street. Huzza! 
 Huzza! Louisburg 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 Pepperell and Shirley?" 
 
 "He made Pepperell a baronet; so that he was now to be 
 called Sir William Pepperell," replied Grandfather. "He 
 likewise appointed both Pepperell and Shirley to be colonels 
 in the royal army. These rewards were well deserved; for 
 this was the greatest triumph that the English met in the 
 whole course of that war." 
 
 "But did the country gain any real good by the conquest o r 
 Louisburg?" asked Laurence. "Or was all the benefit reapec 
 by Pepperell and Shirley?" 
 
 "The English Parliament," replied Grandfather, "agreed 
 to pay the colonists for all the expenses of the siege. Accord- 
 ingly, in 1749, two hundred and fifteen chests of Spanish dol- 
 
84 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 lars and one hundred casks of copper coin were brought from 
 England to Boston. The whole amount was about a million 
 of dollars. Twenty-seven carts and trucks carried this money 
 from the wharf to the provincial treasury. Was not this a 
 pretty liberal reward?" 
 
 "The mothers of the young men who were killed at the 
 siege of Louisburg would not have thought so, ' ' said Laurence. 
 
 "No, Laurence," rejoined Grandfather; "and every warlike 
 achievement involves an amount of physical and moral evil, 
 for which all the gold in the Spanish mines would not be the 
 slightest recompense. But we are to consider that this siege 
 was one of the occasions on which the colonists tested their 
 ability for war, and thus were prepared for the great contest 
 of the Revolution. In that point of view, the valor of our 
 forefathers was its own reward. 
 
 "In 1747," proceeded Grandfather, "Governor Shirley was 
 driven from the Province House, not by a hostile fleet and 
 army, but by a mob of the Boston people. They were so 
 incensed at the conduct of the British Commodore Knowles, 
 who had impressed some of their fellow-citizens, that several 
 thousands of them surrounded the council chamber and threw 
 stones and brickbats 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 Knowles had 
 sent back the citizens, and promised never to venture upon 
 any oppressive measures against their colonial brethren." 
 
 Peace being declared between France and England in 1748, 
 the governor had now an opportunity to sit at his ease in 
 Grandfather's chair. Such repose, however, appears not to 
 have suited his disposition; for, in the following year he went 
 to England, and thence was dispatched to France on public 
 business. Meanwhile, as Shirley had not resigned his office, 
 Phips acted as chief magistrate in his stead. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 85 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 In the early twilight of Thanksgiving Eve came Laurence, 
 and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice hand in hand, and 
 stood in a semi-circle round Grandfather's chair. They had 
 been joyous throughout that day of festivity, mingling 
 together in all kinds of play, so that the house had echoed 
 with their airy mirth. 
 
 Grandfather, too, had been happy, though not mirthful. 
 He felt that this was to be set down as one of the good Thanks- 
 givings of his life. In truth, all his former Thanksgivings 
 had borne their part in the present one, for his years of 
 infancy, and youth, and manhood, with their blessings and 
 their griefs, had flitted before him while he sat silently in the 
 great chair. Vanished scenes had been pictured in the air. 
 The forms of departed friends had visited him. Voices to be 
 heard no more on earth had sent an echo from the infinite 
 and the eternal. These shadows, if such they were, seemed 
 almost as real to him as what was actually present, — as the 
 merry shouts and laughter of the children, — as their figures, 
 dancing like sunshine before his eyes. 
 
 He felt that the past was not taken from him. The happi- 
 ness of former days was a possession forever. And there was 
 something in the mingled sorrow of his lifetime that became 
 akin to happiness, 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 weary with their 
 wild play, and sought the quiet enjoyment of Grandfather's 
 talk. The good old sire rubbed his eyes and smiled round 
 upon them all. He was glad to find that he was yet of con- 
 
86 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 sequence, 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! 
 
 And so he took up the history of the chair from the epoch of 
 the peace of 1748. By one of the provisions of the treaty, 
 Louisburg, which the New Englanders had been at so much 
 pains to take, was restored to the king of France. 
 
 As soon as peace was declared, the French 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 middle of woods. The Indian, 
 paddling his birch-canoe on Lake Champlain, looked up at the 
 high ramparts of Ticonderoga, stone piled on stone, bristling 
 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 soli- 
 tudes. 
 
 The truth was, that the French intended to build forts all 
 the way from Canada to Louisiana. They would then have 
 had a wall of military strength at the back of the English 
 settlements so as completely to hem them in. The king of 
 England considered the building of these forts as a sufficient 
 cause of war, which was accordingly commenced in 1754. 
 
 "Shirley," said Grandfather, "had returned to Boston in 
 J753- While in Paris he had married a second wife, a young 
 French girl, and now brought her to the Province House. 
 But when war was breaking out it was impossible for such a 
 bustling man to stay quietly at home, sitting in our old chair, 
 with his wife and children round about him. He therefore 
 obtained a command in the English forces." 
 
 "What did Pepperell do?" asked Charley. 
 
 "He stayed at home," said Grandfather, "and was general 
 
88 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 describe the bloody defeat of General 
 Braddock, near the sources of the Ohio River, in 1755, when 
 he attempted to capture Fort Duquesne. But I must not 
 omit to mention that, when the English general was mortally 
 wounded and his army routed, the remains of it were preserved 
 by the skill and valor of George Washington." 
 
 At the mention of this name the children started as if a sud- 
 den sunlight had gleamed upon the history of their country, 
 now that the great Deliverer had risen 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 settle- 
 ment of this ancient province of the French, in 1604, until the 
 present time, its people could scarcely ever know what king- 
 dom 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. 
 
 In 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 defense. 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 supplying the French with pro- 
 visions, and of doing other things that violated their neu- 
 trality. 
 
WASHINGTON PLANTING THE BRITISH FLAG AT FORT DUQUESNE 
 
90 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "These accusations were probably true," observed Grand- 
 father; "for the Acadians were descended from the French, 
 and had the same friendly feelings toward them that the 
 people of Massachusetts had for the English. But their pun- 
 ishment 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 trans- 
 ported to the English colonies. All their dwellings and 
 churches were burned, their cattle were killed, and the whole 
 country was laid waste, so that none of them might find shel- 
 ter or food in their old homes after the departure of the Eng- 
 lish. One thousand of the prisoners were sent to Massachu- 
 setts; and Grandfather allowed his fancy to follow them 
 thither, and tried to give his auditors an idea of their situation. 
 
 We shall call this passage the story of 
 
 THE ACADIAN EXILES 
 
 A sad day it was for the poor Acadians when the armed 
 soldiers drove them, at the point of the bayonet, down to the 
 seashore. Very sad were they, likewise, while tossing upon 
 the ocean in the crowded transport vessels. Sadder still was 
 it when they were landed on the Long Wharf in Boston, and 
 left to themselves on a foreign strand. 
 
 Oh, how many broken bonds of affection were here! Coun- 
 try lost! — friends lost! — their rural wealth of cottage, field, 
 and herds all lost together! Every tie between these poor 
 exiles and the world seemed to be cut off at once. They must 
 have regretted that they had not died before their exile; for 
 even the English would not have been so pitiless as to deny 
 them graves in their native soil. The dead were happy, for 
 they were not exiles! 
 
 While they thus stood upon the wharf, the inquisitiveness 
 of the New England people would naturally lead them into 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 91 
 
 the middle 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 night-fall. Surely they could pity the wretched 
 wives and mothers of Acadia! Or did the sign of the cross 
 which the Acadians continually made upon their breasts, and 
 which was abhorred by the descendants of the Puritans, — did 
 that sign exclude all pity? 
 
 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. 
 
 Whither did they go? I imagine them wandering about the 
 streets, telling the townspeople, in outlandish, unintelligble 
 words, that no earthly affliction ever equaled what had be- 
 fallen 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. Others were applicants at 
 the humble wooden tenements 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 
 retribution, — if the aged women and children, or even the 
 strong men, were allowed to feel the pinch of hunger. 
 
 "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," 
 
92 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Little Alice, whose eyes had all along been brimming- full 
 of tears, now burst forth 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, energetically. 
 "Why did not they fight for the country 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 Grand- 
 father. "All that could be done for them in the English prov- 
 inces was to send them to the almshouses, or bind them out 
 to taskmasters. 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 to their country 
 and their homes. " 
 
 "And did he?" inquired Clara. 
 
 "Alas, my dear Clara," said Grandfather, "it is improbable 
 that the slightest whisper of the woes of Acadia ever reached 
 the ears of Louis the Fifteenth. The exiles grew old in the 
 British provinces, and never saw Acadia again. Their 
 descendants remain among us to this day. They have for- 
 gotten 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. "* 
 
 And now, having thrown a gentle gloom around the Thanks- 
 
 *The story is told in Longfellow's "Evangeline." 
 
94 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 giving fireside by a story that made the children feel the 
 blessings of a secure and peaceful hearth, Grandfather put off 
 the other events of the Old French War till the next 
 evening. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Accordingly in the twilight of the succeeding eve, the chil- 
 dren besought Grandfather to tell them what had next hap- 
 pened to the old chair. 
 
 "Our chair," said Grandfather, "stood all this time in the 
 Province House. But Shirley 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 sleep- 
 ing 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 re- 
 mained in Boston. The people of Massachusetts were never 
 fond of Shirley's young French wife. They had a suspicion 
 that she betrayed the military plans of the English to the 
 generals of the French armies." 
 
 "And was it true?" inquired Clara. 
 
 "Probably not," said Grandfather. "But the mere sus- 
 picion did Shirley a great deal of harm. Partly for this rea- 
 son, but much more on account of his inefficiency as a gen- 
 eral, he was deprived 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 properties, and 
 did not even run on casters, it cannot be supposed to have 
 marched in person to the Old French War. But Grandfather 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 95 
 
 delayed its momentous 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 inhab- 
 itants of Boston. The woods of the north were populous with 
 
 GENERAL WOLFE 
 
 fighting men. All the Indian tribes uplifted their toma- 
 hawks, 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 
 
96 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 wild beasts to the more cultivated portion of the country in 
 the vicinity of the sea-ports. The children felt as if they 
 were transported back to those forgotten times, and that the 
 couriers from the army, with the news of a battle lost or won, 
 might even now be heard galloping through the streets. 
 Grandfather told them about the battle of Lake George in 
 1 755, when the gallant Colonel Williams, a Massachusetts 
 officer, was slain with many of his countrymen. But General 
 Johnson and General Lyman, with their army, drove back 
 the enemy and mortally wounded the French leader, who was 
 called the Baron Dieskau. 
 
 In the first years of the war there were many disasters on 
 the English side. Among these was the loss of Fort Oswego 
 in 1756, and of Fort William Henry in the following year. 
 But the greatest misfortune that befell the English during the 
 whole war was the repulse of General Abercrombie, with his 
 army, from the ramparts of Ticonderoga in 1758. He attempted 
 to storm the walls; but a terrible conflict ensued, in which 
 more than two thousand Englishmen and New Englanders 
 were killed or wounded. The slain soldiers now lie buried 
 around that ancient fortress. When the plow passes over the 
 soil, it turns up here and there a moldering bone. 
 
 Up to this period, none of the English generals had shown 
 any military talent. Shirley, the Earl of London, and Aber- 
 crombie 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, Abercrombie had fifty thousand sol- 
 diers under his command. But the French general, the fam- 
 ous Montcalm, possessed a great genius for war and had some- 
 thing within him that taught him how battles were to be won. 
 
 At length, in 1759, Sir Jeffrey Amherst was appointed 
 commander-in-chief of all the British forces in America. He 
 was a man of ability and a skillful soldier. A plan was now 
 formed for accomplishing that object which had so long been 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 97 
 
 the darling wish of the New Englanders, and which their 
 fathers had so many times attempted. This was the conquest 
 of Canada. 
 
 GENERAL MONTCALM 
 
 Three separate armies were to enter Canada from differ- 
 ent quarters. One of the three, commanded by General 
 
 7 Chair 
 
98 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Prideaux, was to embark on Lake Ontario and proceed to 
 Montreal. The second, at the head of which was Amherst 
 himself, was destined to reach the river St. Lawrence by the 
 way of Lake Champlain, and then go down the river to meet 
 the third army. This last, led by General Wolfe, was to enter 
 the St. Lawrence from the sea and ascend the river to 
 Quebec. It is to Wolfe and his army that England owes one 
 of the most splendid triumphs ever written in our history. 
 
 Grandfather described the siege of Quebec, and told how 
 Wolfe led his soldiers up a rugged and lofty precipice, that 
 rose from the shore of the river to the plain on which the city 
 stood. This bold adventure was achieved in the darkness of 
 night. At daybreak tidings were carried to 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 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. 
 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 battlefield : "They 
 flee! they flee!" — and, for a moment, Wolfe lifted his languid 
 head. "Who flee?" he inquired. "The French!" replied an 
 officer. "Then I die satisfied!" said Wolfe, and expired in 
 the arm of victory. 
 
 "If ever a warrior's death were glorious, Wolfe's was so!" 
 said Grandfather; and his eye kindled, though he was a man 
 of peaceful thoughts and gentle spirit. "His lifeblood 
 streamed to baptize the soil which he had added to the domin- 
 ions 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 glis- 
 tening eyes. "Was it not a good death, Laurence?" Lau- 
 
100 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 rence made no reply; for his heart burned within him, as the 
 picture of Wolfe, dying on the blood-stained field of victory, 
 arose to his imagination; and yet he had a deep inward con- 
 sciousness that 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 consider the Old French 
 War as having terminated with this great event. The treaty 
 of peace, however, 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 England 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 
 luster upon the gilded foliage and lion's head of our old chair. 
 The second event was the proclamation, in the same year, of 
 George the Third as King of Great Britain. The blast of the 
 trumpet sounded from the balcony of the Town House, and 
 awoke the echoes far and wide, as if to challenge all mankind 
 to dispute King George's title. 
 
 Seven times, as the successive monarchs of Britain ascended 
 the throne, the trumpet peal of proclamation 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! 
 
 Grandfather now looked at his watch, which hung within a 
 beautiful little ebony temple, supported by four Ionic columns. 
 
KING GEORGE III. 
 
102 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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; "Grandfather has 
 put you to sleep already by his stories about these famous old 
 people." 
 
 WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE 
 
Liberty Tree 
 
 THE LAST WORDS OF GRANDFATHER S CHAIR 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Has the youthful reader grown weary of Grandfather's 
 stories about his chair? Will he not come this once more to 
 our fireside and be received as an own grandchild, and as 
 brother, sister, or cousin to Laurence, Clara, -Charley, and 
 little Alice? Come, do not be bashful, nor afraid. You will 
 find Grandfather a kindly old man, with a cheerful spirit, and 
 a heart that has grown mellow, instead of becoming dry and 
 wilted, with age. 
 
 He will tell you how King George, trusting in the might of 
 armies and navies, sought to establish a tyranny over our 
 
 103 
 
104 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 fathers. Then you shall hear about Liberty Tree, and what 
 crowds used to assemble within the circumference of its 
 shadow. Grandfather must speak also about riots and disor- 
 ders, and how an angry multitude broke into the mansion of 
 the lieutenant-governor. Next, he will show you the proud 
 array of British soldiers, in their uniforms of scarlet and gold, 
 landing at Long Wharf, and marching to take possession of 
 the Common and Faneuil Hall and the Old State House. 
 Then you must listen to the dismal tale of the Boston Mas- 
 sacre. Next comes the marvelous story of the tea ships and 
 of that band of Indian figures who made their appearance in 
 the dusk of evening and vanished before the dawn of day. 
 Now come more and more regiments of soldiers. Their tents 
 whiten the Common like untimely snow. Their warhorses 
 prance and neigh within the walls of the Old South Church. 
 Hark! that faint echo comes from Lexington, where the Brit- 
 ish soldiers have fired a volley that begins the war of the Rev- 
 olution. The people are up in arms. Gage, Howe, Burgoyne, 
 Lord Percy, and many another haughty Englishman are 
 beleaguered within the peninsula of Boston. The Americans 
 build batteries on every side; and look! a warlike figure on a 
 white horse, rides majestically from height to height and 
 directs the progress of the siege. Can it be Washington? 
 
 Then Grandfather will call up' the shadow of a devoted 
 loyalist, and strive to paint him to your eyes and heart as he 
 takes his farewell walk through Boston. We will trace his 
 melancholy steps from Faneuil Hall to Liberty Tree. That 
 famous tree ! The axes of the British soldiers have hewn it 
 down, but not before its wind- strewn leaves had scattered the 
 spirit of freedom far and wide — not before its roots had 
 sprouted even in the distant soil of Georgia. 
 
 Amid all these wonderful matters Ave shall not lose sight of 
 Grandfather's chair. On its sturdy oaken legs it trudges 
 diligently from one scene to another, and seems always to 
 thrust itself in, the way with the most benign complacency 
 
LIBERTY TREE (BOSTON COMMON) 
 
106 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 whenever an historical personage happens to be looking round 
 for a seat. The excellent old chair! Let the reader 
 make much of it while he may; for with this little volume 
 Grandfather concludes its history, and withdraws it from the 
 public eye. 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 On the evening of New Year's Day Grandfather was walk- 
 ing 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 entrance into the comfortable room. With every puff of 
 the wind the fire leaped upward from the hearth, laughing and 
 rejoicing at the shrieks of the wintry storm. 
 
 Meanwhile Grandfather's chair stood in its customary place 
 by the fireside. The bright blaze gleamed upon the fantastic 
 figures of its oaken back, and shone through the openwork, so 
 that a complete pattern was thrown upon the opposite side of 
 the room. Sometimes, for a moment or two, the shadow 
 remained immovable, as if it were painted on the wall. Then, 
 all at once it began to quiver, and leap, and dance with a frisky 
 motion. Anon, seeming to remember that these antics were 
 unworthy of such a dignified and venerable chair, it suddenly 
 stood still. But soon it began to dance anew. 
 
 "Only see how Grandfather's chair is dancing!" cried little 
 Alice. 
 
 And she ran to the wall and tried to catch hold of the flick- 
 ering 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 
 
108 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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, nowadays, must have a name, the one in question 
 had been honored with the title of Grandfather's Chair, which 
 was painted in golden letters on each of the sides. Charley 
 greatly admired the construction of the new vehicle, and felt 
 certain that it would outstrip any other sled that ever dashed 
 down 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 
 countries. Among them Laurence found several who had 
 formerly occupied our chair or been connected with its adven- 
 tures. While Grandfather walked to and fro across the room, 
 the imaginative boy was gazing at the 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 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 109 
 
 a sigh, "another year has been added to those of the two hun- 
 dred and ten 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. " 
 
 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. 
 Lit tie 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," answered 
 Charley. "Sir Francis Bernard, the new governor, had given 
 him the chair, instead of putting it away in the garret of the 
 Province House. And when we took leave of 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 recollect that this 
 was in 1763, or thereabouts, at the close of the Old French 
 War. Now, that you may fully comprehend the remaining 
 
110 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 adventures of the chair, I must make some brief remarks on 
 the situation 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; for, at the distance of three thousand miles, they 
 could not discover his bad qualities and imperfections. Their 
 love was increased by the dangers which they had encountered 
 in order to heighten his glory and extend his dominion. 
 Throughout the war the American colonists had fought side 
 by side with the soldiers of Old England; and nearly thirty 
 thousand young men had laid down their lives for the honor 
 of King George. And the survivors loved him the better 
 because they had done and suffered so much for his sake. 
 
 But there were some circumstances that caused America to 
 feel more independent of England than at an earlier period. 
 Canada and Acadia had now become British provinces; and 
 our fathers were no longer afraid of the bands of French and 
 Indians who used to assault them in old times. For a century 
 and a half this had been the great terror of New England. 
 Now the old French soldier was driven from the north forever. 
 And, even had it been otherwise, the English colonies were 
 growing so populous and powerful that they might have felt 
 fully able to protect themselves without any help from Eng- 
 land. 
 
 There were thoughtful and sagacious men, who began to 
 doubt whether a great country like America would always be 
 content to remain under the government of an island three 
 thousand miles away. This was the more doubtful, because 
 the English Parliament had long ago made laws which were 
 intended to be very beneficial to England at the expense of 
 America. By these laws the colonists were forbidden to man- 
 
112 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 ufacture 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 counselors had considered these things wisely, they 
 would have taken another course than they did. But when 
 they saw how rich and populous the colonies had grown, their 
 first thought was how they might make more profit out of 
 them than heretofore. England was enormously in debt at 
 the close of the Old French War; and it was pretended that 
 this debt had been contracted for the defense 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 money 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 with- 
 out this mark they were declared illegal and void. Now, in 
 order to get a blank sheet of paper with the king's stamp upon 
 it, people were obliged to pay threepence more than the actual 
 value of the paper. And this extra sum of threepence was a 
 tax, and was to be paid into the king's treasury." 
 
 "I am sure threepence was not worth quarreling about!" 
 remarked Clara. 
 
 "It was not for threepence, nor for any amount of money, 
 that America quarreled with England," replied Grandfather; 
 "it was for a great principle. The colonists were determined 
 not to be taxed except by their own representatives. And 
 rather than pay threepence, when it was unjustly demanded, 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR H3 
 
 they resolved to sacrifice all the wealth of the country, and 
 their lives along with it. They therefore made a most stub- 
 born resistance to the Stamp Act." 
 
 "That was noble!" exclaimed Laurence. "I understand how 
 it was. If they paid the tax of threepence, 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 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 Puritans were. For a 
 good many years back, however, it had seemed as if these 
 characteristics were disappearing. But no sooner did England 
 offer wrong to the colonies than the descendants of the early 
 settlers proved that they had the same kind of temper as their 
 forefathers. The moment before, New England appeared like 
 a humble and loyal subject of the crown; the next 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 
 delegates from every colony should meet in Congress. Accord- 
 ingly, nine colonies, both northern and southern, sent dele- 
 gates 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 griev- 
 
 8 Chair 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 AMERICAN RIFLEMAN 
 
 ances of the colonies. They sent 
 an humble petition to the king, 
 and a memorial to the Parliament, 
 beseeching that the Stamp Act 
 might be repealed. This was all 
 that the delegates had it in their 
 power to do." 
 
 ' ' They might as well have stayed 
 at home, then, " said Charley. "By 
 no means," replied Grandfather. 
 "It was a most important and 
 memorable event, — this first 
 coming together of the American 
 people by their representatives 
 from the north and south. If 
 England had been wise, she would 
 have trembled at the first word 
 that was spoken in such an assem- 
 bly!" 
 
 These remonstrances and peti- 
 tions, as Grandfather 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 statesmen 
 if the violent deeds of the Ameri- 
 can people had not shown how 
 much excited the people were. 
 Liberty Tree was soon heard of 
 in England. 
 
 "What was Liberty Tree?" in- 
 quired Clara. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "It was an old elm tree," 
 answered Grandfather, "which 
 stood near the corner of Essex 
 Street, opposite the Boylston 
 Market. Under the spreading 
 branches of this great tree the 
 people used to assemble whenever 
 they wished to express their feel- 
 ings and opinions. Thus, after a 
 while, it seemed as if the liberty 
 of the country was connected with 
 Liberty Tree. " 
 
 "It was glorious fruit for a tree 
 to bear," remarked Laurence. 
 
 "It bore strange fruit, some- 
 times," said Grandfather. "One 
 morning in August, 1765, two 
 figures were found hanging on the 
 sturdy branches of Libert) 7 Tree. 
 They were dressed in square- 
 skirted coats and small-clothes; 
 and, as their wigs hung down over 
 their faces, they looked like real 
 men. One was intended to repre- 
 sent the Earl of Bute, who was 
 supposed to have advised the king 
 to tax America. The other was 
 meant for the effigy of Andrew 
 Oliver, a gentleman belonging to 
 one of the most respectable fami- 
 lies in Massachusetts." 
 
 "What harm had he done?" 
 inquired Charley "The king had 
 appointed him distributer of the 
 stamps," answered Grandfather. 
 
 BRITISH GRENADIER 
 
116 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "Oliver 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 breaking into his house, that 
 he promised to have nothing to do with the stamps. And all 
 the king's friends throughout America were compelled to 
 make the same promise." 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "Hutchinson," continued Grandfather, "now began to be 
 unquiet in our old chair. He had formerly been much 
 respected and beloved by the people, and had often proved 
 himself a friend to their interests. But the time was come 
 when he could not be a friend to the people without ceasing 
 to be a friend to the king. It was pretty generally understood 
 that Hutchinson would act according to the king's wishes, 
 right or wrong, like most of the other gentlemen who held 
 offices under the crown." 
 
 "I should think," said Laurence, "as Hutchinson had writ- 
 ten the history of our Puritan forefathers, 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 England," replied 
 Grandfather, "and thought himself safe under the shelter 
 of the throne. If no dispute had arisen between the king and 
 the people, Hutchinson would have had the character of a 
 wise, good, and patriotic magistrate. But, from the time that 
 he took part against the rights of his country, the people's love 
 and respect were turned to scorn and hatred, and he never had 
 another hour of peace." 
 
 In order to show what a fierce and dangerous spirit was now 
 aroused among the inhabitants, Grandfather related a pas- 
 sage from history which we shall call 
 
118 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 THE HUTCHINSON MOB 
 
 On the evening of Aug. 26, 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 displayed 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 
 assemble in the street. 
 
 Before the tar-barrels, of which the bonfire was made, were 
 half burned out, a great crowd had come together. They were 
 chiefly laborers and seafaring men, together with young 
 apprentices, and all those idle people about town who are ready 
 for any kind of mischief. Doubtless some school-boys were 
 among them. 
 
 While these rough figures stood round the blazing bonfire, 
 you might hear them speaking bitter words against the high 
 officers of the province. Governor Bernard, Hutchinson, 
 Oliver, Storey, Hallowell, and other men whom King George 
 delighted to honor, were reviled as traitors to the country. 
 Now and then an officer of the crown passed along the street 
 wearing the gold-laced hat, white wig, and embroidered waist- 
 coat 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 breth- 
 ren too!" another might reply; "and the governor and old 
 Tommy Hutchinson into the hottest of it." 
 
 "And the Earl of Bute along with them!" muttered the 
 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 mut 
 tered under the breath were doubtless heard in King Street. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 119 
 
 The mob meanwhile were growing 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 mis- 
 chief and destruction were their sport. 
 
 But we must now leave the rioters for a time and take a 
 peep into the lieutenant-governor's splendid mansion. It was 
 a large brick house decorated with Ionic pilasters and stood in 
 Garden Court Street near the North Square. 
 
 While the angry mob in King Street were shouting his 
 name, Hutchinson sat quietly in Grandfather's chair unsus- 
 picious of the evil that was about to fall upon his head. His 
 family were in the room with him. He had thrown off his 
 embroidered coat and powdered wig, and had on a loose flow- 
 ing 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 tribu- 
 taries of the New Englanders. Possibly, too, he had forgotten 
 his own ambition, and would not have exchanged his situation, 
 at that moment, to be governor, or even a lord. 
 
 The wax candles were now lighted, and showed a handsome 
 room, well provided with rich furniture. On the walls hung 
 the pictures of Hutchinson's ancestors, who had been eminent 
 men in their day, and were honorably remembered in the his- 
 tory of the country. Every object served to mark the resi- 
 dence of a rich, aristocratic gentleman, who held himself high 
 above the common people, and could have nothing to fear from 
 them. In one corner 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, counselor, and 
 judge of probate, was filled by Hutchinson. 
 
 Who or what could disturb the domestic quiet of such a 
 
120 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. Suddenly a shade 
 came across her countenance. She seemed to listen atten- 
 tively, as if to catch a distant sound. 
 
 "What is the matter, my child?" inquired Hutchinson. 
 "Father, do not you hear a tumult in the streets?" said she. 
 The lieutenant-governor listened. But his ears were duller 
 than those of his daughter; he could hear nothing more ter- 
 rible than the sound of a summer breeze, sighing among the 
 tops of the elm trees. 
 
 "No, foolish child!" he replied, playfully patting her cheek. 
 "There is no tumult. Our Boston mobs are satisfied with 
 what mischief they have already done. The king's friends 
 need not tremble." 
 
 So Hutchinson resumed his pleasant meditations, and forgot 
 that there were any troubles in the world. But his family 
 were alarmed, and could not help straining their ears to catch 
 the slightest sound. More and more distinctly they heard 
 shouts, and then 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 Storey's house, and into Hallowell's, and have made 
 themselves drunk with the liquors in his cellar; and now they 
 are coming hither, as wild as so many tigers. Flee, governor, 
 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 any- 
 thing 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; "1 am perfectly 
 
122 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 safe. The king's name shall be my protection. " Yet he bade 
 his family retire into one of the neighboring houses. His 
 daughter would have remained, but he forced her away. 
 
 The huzzas and riotous uproar of the mob were now heard, 
 close at hand. The sound was terrible, and struck Hutchin- 
 son with the same sort of dread as if an enraged wild beast 
 had broken loose and were roaring for its prey. He crept 
 softly to the window. There he beheld an immense concourse 
 of people, filling all the streets 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 aristocrat like 
 Hutchinson might have learned how powerless are kings, 
 nobles, and great men, when the low and humble range them- 
 selves against them. King George could do nothing for his 
 servant now. Had the King been there he could have done 
 nothing for himself. If Hutchinson had understood this les- 
 son, and remembered it, he need not, in after years, have 
 been exiled from his native country, nor finally have laid his 
 bones in a distant land. 
 
 There was now a rush against the doors of the house. The 
 people sent up a discordant cry T . At this instant the lieuten- 
 ant-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 care these 
 roarers for the name of the king? I must flee, or they will 
 trample me down on the door of my own dwelling!" 
 
 Hurrying away, he and his daughter made their escape by 
 the private passage at the moment when the rioters broke into 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 123 
 
 the house. The foremost of them rushed up the staircase and 
 entered the room which Hutchinson had just quitted. 
 
 Then began the work of destruction. The carved and pol- 
 ished 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, con- 
 taining secrets of our country's history which are now lost for- 
 ever, were scattered to the winds. The old ancestral por- 
 traits, whose fixed countenances 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 offenses as their descend- 
 ant. 
 
 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 Hutch- 
 inson and his family returned, 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 resent- 
 ment. 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 Revo- 
 lution. " 
 
124 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Little Alice, with tears in her blue eyes, said that she hoped 
 the neighbors had not let Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson 
 and his family be homeless in the street, but had taken them 
 into their houses and been kind to them. Cousin Clara, recol- 
 lecting 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 1 before told you, was summoned to 
 appear at high noon under Liberty Tree. This was the 
 strangest summons that had ever been heard of; for it was 
 issued in the name of the whole people, who thus took upon 
 themselves the authority of a sovereign power. Mr. Oliver 
 dared not disobey. Accordingly, at the appointed hour he 
 went, much against his will, to Liberty Tree." 
 
 Here Charley interposed a remark that poor Mr. Oliver 
 found but little liberty under Liberty Tree. Grandfather 
 assented. 
 
 "It was a stormy day," continued he. "The 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 Grandfather's 
 chair, — our own venerable chair, — sat Mr. Richard Dana, a 
 justice of the peace. He administered an oath to Mr. Oliver 
 that he would never have anything to do with distributing the 
 stamps. A vast concourse of people heard the oath, and 
 shouted when it was taken." 
 
 "There is something grand in this," said Laurence. "I 
 like it because the people seem to have acted with thoughtful- 
 ness and dignity; and this proud gentleman, one of his Maj- 
 esty'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 Grand- 
 father. "From his youth upward it had probably been the 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 125 
 
 great principle of his life to be faithful and obedient to the 
 king. And now, in his old age, it must have puzzled and dis- 
 tracted 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 Lib- 
 erty Tree well pruned and free from caterpillars 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, ear- 
 nestly besought Grandfather to tell when and where it had 
 next found shelter. Perhaps she was afraid that the vener- 
 able chair, by being exposed to the inclemency of a Septem- 
 ber gale, might get the rheumatism in its aged joints. 
 
 "The chair, " said Grandfather, "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 Hutchinson mob, most people would have thought 
 that its days of usefulness were over. Nevertheless, it was 
 conveyed away under cover of the night and committed to 
 the care of a skilful joiner. He doctored 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 Hutchinson get possession of it again?" 
 inquired Charley. 
 
 "I know not," answered Grandfather, "unless he considereu 
 it a dishonor and disgrace to the chair to have stood under 
 
126 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 PATRIOT SOLDIER UNDER ARMS 
 
 Liberty Tree. At all events, he 
 suffered it to remain at the 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 or bustle, or 
 would witness more important 
 events, or be occupied by a greater 
 variety of persons." 
 
 Grandfather went on to tell the 
 proceedings of the despotic king 
 and ministry of England after the 
 repeal of the Stamp Act. They 
 could hot bear to think that their 
 right to tax America should be 
 disputed by the people. In the 
 year 1767, therefore, they caused 
 Parliament to pass an act for laying 
 a duty on tea and some 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 Parlia- 
 ment as they had been to the 
 Stamp Act. England, however, 
 was determined that they should 
 submit. In order to compel their 
 obedience, two regiments, consist- 
 
JOHN HANCOCK, PRESIDENT OF THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS 
 
128 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 ing of more than seven hundred British soldiers, were sent to 
 Boston. They arrived in September, 1768, and were landed on 
 Long Wharf. Thence they marched to the Common with 
 loaded muskets, fixed bayonets, and great pomp and parade. 
 So now, at last, the free town of Boston was guarded and over- 
 awed 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 Com- 
 mon was whitened with their tents. Some of the soldiers 
 were lodged in Faneuil Hall, which 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 the 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 gov- 
 ernor's council. The venerable counselors could not assemble 
 to consult about the welfare of the province without being 
 challenged by sentinels and passing among the bayonets of 
 the British soldiers. 
 
 Sentinels, likewise, were posted at the lodgings of the 
 officers in many parts of the town. When the inhabitants 
 approached they were greeted by the sharp question — "Who 
 goes there?" — while the rattle of the soldier's musket was 
 heard as he presented it against their breasts. There was no 
 quiet even on the Sabbath day. The pious descendants of the 
 Puritans were shocked by the uproar of military music: the 
 drum, the fife, and bugle drowning the holy organ peal and 
 the voices of the singers. It would appear as if the British 
 took every method to insult the feelings of the people. 
 
 "Grandfather," cried Charley, impatiently, "the people did 
 not go to fighting half soon enough! These British red-coats 
 ought to have been driven back to their vessels the very 
 moment they landed on Long Wharf." 
 
 "Many a hot-headed young man said the same as you do, 
 
9 Chair 
 
130 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 Coffee House. Officers of the 
 Custom House, too, which stood on the opposite side of King 
 Street, often sat in the chair, wagging their tongues against 
 John Hancock." 
 
 "Why against him?" asked Charley. "Because he was a 
 great merchant and contended against paying duties to the 
 king," said Grandfather. 
 
 "Well, frequently, no doubt, the officers of the British regi- 
 ments, when not on duty, used to fling themselves into the 
 arms of our venerable chair. Fancy one of them, a red-nosed 
 captain in his scarlet uniform, playing with the hilt of his 
 sword, and 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 Elliot had con- 
 secrated. " 
 
 "It certainly was little less than sacrilege," replied Grand- 
 father, "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 told his auditors that, in 1769, Sir Francis 
 Bernard went to England after having been governor of Mas- 
 sachusetts ten years. He was a gentleman of many good 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 131 
 
 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 successor, 
 Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, no better than himself. 
 
 About this period the people were much incensed at an act 
 committed by a person who held an office in the Custom 
 House. Some lads, or young men, were snowballing his 
 windows. He fired a musket at them, and killed a poor Ger- 
 man boy, only eleven years old. This event made a great 
 noise in town and country, and much increased the resent- 
 ment that was already felt against the servants of the crown. 
 
 "Now, children," said Grandfather, "1 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 Old State House was what military men call 
 a court of guard, defended by two brass cannons, which 
 pointed directly at one of the doors of the above edifice. A 
 large party of soldiers were always stationed in the court of 
 guard. The Custom House stood at a little distance down 
 King Street, and a sentinel was continually pacing before its 
 front." 
 
 "I shall remember this to-morrow, " said Charley; "and I 
 will go to State Street, so as to see exactly where the British 
 troops were stationed." 
 
 "And before long," observed Grandfather, "I shall have to 
 relate an event which made King Street sadly famous on both 
 sides of the Atlantic. The history of our chair will soon bring 
 us to this melancholy 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 towns-people were 
 
132 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. 
 
 "It was sometimes the case," continued Grandfather, "that 
 affrays happened between such wild young men as these and 
 small parties of the soldiers. No weapons had hitherto been 
 used except fists or cudgels. But when men have loaded 
 muskets in their hands, it is easy to foretell that they will soon 
 be turned against the bosoms of those who provoke their 
 anger." 
 
 "Grandfather," said little Alice, looking fearfully into his 
 face, "your voice sounds as though you were going to tell us 
 something awful!" 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Little Alice, by her last remark, proved herself a good judge 
 of what was expressed by the tones of Grandfather's voice. 
 He had given the above description of the enmity between 
 the towns-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 
 what has been called 
 
 THE BOSTON MASSACRE 
 
 It was now March 3, 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. 
 
LORD HOWE, COMMANDER OF THE BRITISH FLEET 
 
134 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. Meanwhile, Captain Preston was, perhaps, sit- 
 ting in our great chair before the hearth of the 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, shoul- 
 der to shoulder, with the regular step which they had learned 
 at the drill. Whenever these encounters took place, it 
 appeared to be the object of the young men to treat the sol- 
 diers with as much incivility as possible. 
 
 "Turn out, you lobster-backs!" one would say. 
 
 "Crowd them off the sidewalks!" another would cry. "A 
 red-coat has no right in Boston streets!" 
 
 "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 bay- 
 onet. " 
 
 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, suppos- 
 ing 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 firesides 
 and sat talking with their wives and children about the calam- 
 ities of the times. Others who were younger and less prudent 
 remained in the streets; for there seems to have been a pre- 
 sentiment that some strange event was on the eve of taking 
 place. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 135 
 
 Late in the evening 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 barracks and the guard-house, where his 
 comrades were probably telling stories of battle and bloodshed. 
 
 Down toward 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, peremptory tones 
 of a soldier's challenge. 
 
 The young men, being Boston boys, felt as if they had a 
 right to walk their own streets without being accountable to a 
 British red-coat, even though he challenged them in King 
 George's name. They made some rude answer to the sentinel. 
 There was a dispute, or perhaps a scuffle. Other soldiers 
 heard the noise, and ran hastily from the barracks to assist 
 their comrades. At the same time many of the towns-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 so 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 ordered eight soldiers of the main 
 guard to take their muskets and follow him. They forced 
 their way through the crowd, and pricked the towns-people 
 with their bayonets. 
 
 A gentleman caught Captain Preston's arm. "For heaven's 
 sake, sir," exclaimed he, "take heed what you do, or there 
 will be bloodshed." 
 
 "Stand aside!" answered Preston, haughtily. "Do not 
 
136 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 interfere, sir. Leave me to manage the affair." Arriving at 
 the sentinel's post, Preston drew up his men in a semi-circle, 
 with their faces to the crowd and their rear to the Custom 
 House. When the people saw the officer and beheld the threat- 
 ening attitude with which the soldiers fronted them, their rage 
 became almost uncontrollable. 
 
 "Fire, you lobster-backs!" bellowed some. "You dare not 
 fire, you cowardly red-coats!" cried others. "Rush upon 
 them!" shouted many voices. "Drive the rascals to their 
 barracks! Down with them! Down with them! Let them 
 fire if they dare!" Amid the uproar, the soldiers stood glar- 
 ing 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. 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 unfor- 
 gotten yet. England was still that beloved country which the 
 colonists called their home. King George, though he had 
 frowned upon America, was still reverenced as a father. 
 
 But should the king's soldiers shed one drop of American 
 blood, then it was a quarrel to the death. Never — never would 
 America rest satisfied until she had torn down the royal 
 authority and trampled it in the dust. 
 
 "Fire if you dare, villains!" hoarsely shouted the people 
 while the muzzles of the muskets were turned upon them; 
 "you dare not fire!" 
 
 They appeared ready to rush upon the leveled bayonets. 
 Captain Preston waved his sword and uttered a command 
 which could not be distinctly heard amid the uproar of shouts 
 
I \r!'\^ " \ 
 
138 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 streets, and the report rang 
 loudly between the edifices. It was said, too, that the figure 
 of a man, with a cloth hanging down over his face, was seen 
 to step into the balcony of the Custom House and discharge 
 a musket at the crowd. 
 
 A gush of smoke had overspread the scene. It rose heavily, 
 as if it were loath to reveal the dreadful spectacle beneath it. 
 Eleven of the sons of New England lay stretched upon the 
 street. Some, sorely wounded, were struggling to rise again. 
 Others stirred not or groaned; for they were past all pain. 
 Blood was streaming upon the snow; and that purple stain in 
 the middle 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 to soften down 
 the narrative so that it might not terrify the heart of this 
 unworldly infant. Since Grandfather began the history of our 
 chair, little Alice had listened to many tales of war. But 
 probably the idea had never really impressed itself upon her 
 mind that men have shed the blood of their fellow-creatures. 
 And now that this idea was forcibly presented to her, it 
 affected the sweet child with bewilderment and horror. 
 
 "I ought to have remembered our dear little Alice," said 
 Grandfather reproachfully to himself. "Oh, what a pity! 
 Her heavenly nature has now received its first impression of 
 earthly sin and 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?" 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 139 
 
 "The town drums beat to arms," replied Grandfather, "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 Grand- 
 father, "and besought the people to have 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 Revolution," observed Laurence, who had said but 
 little during the evening, "was not such a calm, majestic 
 movement as I supposed. I do not love to hear of mobs and 
 broils in the street. These things were unworthy of the peo- 
 ple 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 Grand- 
 father. "The people, to a man, were full of a great and noble 
 sentiment. True, there may be much fault to find with their 
 mode of expressing this sentiment; but they knew no better — 
 the necessity was upon them to act out their feelings in the 
 best manner they could. We must forgive what was wrong 
 in their actions, and look into their hearts and minds for the 
 honorable motives that impelled them." 
 
 "And I suppose," said Laurence, "there were men who 
 knew how to act worthily of what they felt." 
 
 "There were many such," replied Grandfather, "and we 
 will speak of some of them hereafter." 
 
 Grandfather here made a pause. That night, Charley had 
 
140 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 a dream about the Boston massacre, and thougnt that he him- 
 self 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 townspeople 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 mod- 
 ern 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. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 141 
 
 "He was a man of great note in all the doings that brought 
 about the Revolution," said Grandfather. "His character 
 
 SAMUEL ADAMS 
 
 was such that it seemed as if one of the ancient Puritans had 
 been sent back to earth to animate the people's hearts with the 
 
142 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 same abhorrence of tyranny that had distinguished the earli- 
 est settlers. He was as religious as they, as stern and inflex- 
 ible, and as deeply imbued with democratic principles. He, 
 better than any one else, may be taken as a representative of 
 the people of New England, and of the spirit with which they 
 engaged in the Revolutionary struggle. He was a poor man, 
 and earned his bread by an humble occupation ; but with his 
 tongue and pen he made the King of England tremble on his 
 throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the strong 
 mien of our country." 
 
 "Here is one whose looks show a very different character," 
 observed Laurence, turning to the portrait of John Hancock. 
 "I should think, by his splendid dress and courtly aspect, that 
 he was one of the king's friends." 
 
 "There never was a greater contrast than between Samuel 
 Adams and John Hancock," said Grandfather. "Yet they 
 were of the same side in politics, and had an equal agency in 
 the Revolution. Hancock was born to the inheritance of the 
 largest fortune in New England. His tastes and habits were 
 aristocratic. He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion, 
 magnificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was glit- 
 tering and pompous in external things. His manners were so 
 polished that there stood not a nobleman at the footstool of 
 King George's throne who was a more skillful 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 different 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. 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 143 
 
 "Warren was an eloquent and able patriot," replied Grand- 
 father. "He deserves a lasting memory for his zealous efforts 
 in behalf of liberty. No man's voice was more powerful in 
 
 JOHN ADAMS 
 
 ( The Second President of the United States) 
 
 Faneuil Hall than Joseph Warren's. If his death had not 
 happened so early in the contest, he would probably have 
 gained a high name as a soldier. " 
 
144 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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. 
 
 Q/cjLn^y-esr 
 
 gggggfeg: 
 
 (Pa^O 
 
 
 % 
 
 ? S5Sfea^2^SKS«4' 
 
 
 
 ^^^X^*^ luMk^A^^^^njA^ 
 
 FACSIMILE OF THE SIGNATURES TO THE DECLARATION 
 OF INDEPENDENCE 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 145 
 
 "Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that ever 
 lived, " said Grandfather. "This is Benjamin Franklin! But 
 
 HOUSE IN PHILADELPHIA IN WHICH THE FIRST CONGRESS WAS HELD 
 
 I will not try to compress into a few sentences the character 
 of the sage, who, as a Frenchman expressed it, snatched the 
 
 10 Chair 
 
146 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 lightning from the sky, and the scepter from a tyrant. The 
 book likewise contained portraits of James Otis and Josiah 
 Quincy. Both of them, Grandfather observed, were men of 
 wonderful talents and true patriotism. 
 
 "Here was another great man," remarked Laurence, point- 
 ing 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 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 youth 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 
 apprenticeship with a merchant. Samuel Adams, afterward 
 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 Nathan- 
 iel Greene, the best soldier, except Washington, in the Rev- 
 olutionary army, was a Quaker and a blacksmith. All these 
 became illustrious men, and can never be forgotten in Amer- 
 ican history. 
 
 "And any boy who is born in America may look forward to 
 the same things," said our ambitious friend Charley. 
 
 After these observations, Grandfather drew the book of 
 portraits toward him and showed the children several British 
 peers and members of Parliament who had exerted them- 
 selves either for or against the rights of America. There 
 were the Earl of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North. These 
 were looked upon as deadly enemies to our country. 
 
 Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, afterward 
 
THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE READ TO THE ARMY 
 
148 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Earl of Chatham, who spent so much of his wondrous elo- 
 quence 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 dying words in defense of our 
 privileges as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the 
 wisest men and greatest orators that ever the world produced. 
 There was Colonel Barre, who had been among our fathers, 
 and knew that they had courage enough to die for their rights. 
 There was Charles James Fox, who never rested until he had 
 silenced our enemies in the House of Commons. 
 
 "It is very remarkable to observe how many of the ablest 
 orators in the British Parliament were favorable to America," 
 said Grandfather. "We ought to remember these great Eng- 
 lishmen with gratitude; for their speeches encouraged our 
 fathers almost as much as those of our own orators in Faneuil 
 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 they could 
 in defense of the king's tyrannical proceedings," replied 
 Grandfather. "But they had the worst side of the argument, 
 and therefore seldom said anything worth remembering. 
 Moreover, their hearts were faint and feeble; for they felt that 
 the people scorned and detested them. They had no friends, 
 no defense, except in the bayonets of the British troops. A 
 blight fell upon all their faculties, because they were contend- 
 ing against the rights of their own native land." 
 
 "1 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 were no integrity and honor 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 149 
 
 except among those who stood up for the freedom of America. 
 Do you see nothing admirable in a faithful adherence to an 
 unpopular cause? Can you not respect that principle of 
 loyalty which made the royalists give up country, friends, 
 fortune, everything, rather than be false to their king? It 
 was a mistaken principle; but many of them cherished it hon- 
 orably, and were martyrs to it." 
 
 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 com- 
 mon share of intellect, should have had influence enough on 
 human affairs to convulse the world with war. Grandfather 
 observed that this poor king had always appeared to him one 
 of the most unfortunate persons that ever lived. "His life," 
 said Grandfather, "while he retained what intellect heaven 
 had gifted him with, was one long mortification. At last he 
 grew crazed with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years, 
 the monarch of England was confined as a madman. In his 
 old age, too, God took away his eyesight; so that his royal 
 palace was nothing to him but a dark, lonesome prison-house. " 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 "Our old chair," resumed Grandfather, "did not now stand 
 in the middle of a gay circle of British officers. The troops, 
 as 1 told you, had been removed to Castle William immedi- 
 ately 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 min- 
 istry more than any of their former doings." 
 
 Grandfather here described the affair, which is known by 
 
150 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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, "that the liberties of 
 America should have had anything to do with a cup of tea;" 
 
 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 middle of their debates, three 
 ships arrived in the harbor with the tea on board. The people 
 spent a fortnight in consulting what should be done. At last, 
 on Dec. 16, 1773, they demanded that Hutchinson should send 
 the ships back to England. 
 
 The governor replied that the ships must not leave the har- 
 bor 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 govern- 
 ment. Therefore, in the dusk of the evening, as soon as 
 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 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." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE OF PAUL REVERE 
 
152 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "Grandfather," said little Alice, "I suppose Indians don't 
 love tea; else they would never waste it so." 
 
 "They were not real Indians, my child," answered Grand- 
 father. "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 afterward 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 priv- 
 ileges which had been granted in the charter of Massachusetts. 
 
 Hutchinson, soon afterward, was summoned to England, in 
 order that he might give his advice about the management of 
 American affairs. 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 Massa- 
 chusetts, 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 Edmund 
 Andros. Boston looked as if it were afflicted with some dread- 
 ful 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 
 
154 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 in the good town of Boston ; and contributions were raised, in 
 many places, for the relief of the poor inhabitants. 
 
 "A continental Congress assembled at Philadelphia, " 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 
 people to arm and discipline themselves. A great number of 
 minute men were enrolled. The Americans 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. Pickering, with thirty or forty minute men, 
 prevented the English colonel, Leslie, with four times as 
 many regular soldiers, from taking possession of some military 
 stores. No blood was shed on this occasion; but soon after- 
 ward it began to flow. 
 
 General Gage sent eight hundred soldiers to Concord, about 
 eighteen miles from Boston, to destroy some ammunition and 
 provisions which the colonists had collected there. They set 
 out on their march on the evening of April 18, 1775. The 
 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 a great slaughter among our 
 countrymen. Others affirmed that every man had turned out 
 with his musket, and not a single British soldier would ever 
 get back to Boston. 
 
 "It was after sunset," continued Grandfather, "when the 
 troops, who had marched forth so proudly, were seen entering 
 Charlestown. They were covered with dust, and so hot and 
 weary that their tongues hung out of their mouths. Many 
 

 DEATH OF MAJOR PITCAIRfl 
 
156 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 of them were faint with wounds. The}' had not all returned. 
 Nearly three hundred were strewn, dead or dying, along the 
 road from Concord. The yeomanry had risen upon the 
 invaders and driven them back." 
 
 "Was this the battle of Lexington?" asked Charley. "Yes," 
 replied Grandfather; "it was so called, because the British, 
 without provocation, had fired upon a party of minute men, 
 near Lexington meeting-house, and killed eight of them. 
 That fatal volley, which was fired by order of Major Pitcairn, 
 began the war of the Revolution. 
 
 "Meanwhile, an army of twenty thousand men came to the 
 siege of Boston. Gage and his troops were cooped up within 
 the narrow precincts of the peninsula. On June 17, 1775, the 
 famous battle of Bunker Hill was fought. Here 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 his- 
 torians. Battles shall not hold a prominent place in the his- 
 tory of our quiet and comfortable old chair. But to-morrow 
 evening, Laurence, Clara, and yourself, 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. " 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The next evening but one, when the children had given 
 Grandfather a full account of the diorama of Bunker Hill, 
 they entreated him not to keep them any longer in suspense 
 about the fate of his chair. The reader will recollect that, at 
 the last accounts, it had trotted away upon its poor old legs 
 nobody knew whither. But, before gratifying their curiosity, 
 
DEFENSE OF BREED'S HILL — PRESCOTT IN THE REDOUBT 
 
158 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 Grandfather found it necessary to say something about public 
 events. 
 
 The Continental Congress, which was assembled at Phila- 
 delphia, 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 
 Philadelphia, and began his journey to Massachusetts. On 
 July 3, 1775, he arrived at Cambridge, and took command of 
 the troops which were besieging Gage. 
 
 "Oh! Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, "it makes my 
 heart throb to think what is coming now. We are to see Gen- 
 eral Washington himself." 
 
 The children crowded around Grandfather and looked ear- 
 nestly 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 occu- 
 pied the most prominent place. However, he determined to 
 proceed with his narrative, and speak of the hero when it was 
 needful, but with an unambitious simplicity. 
 
 So Grandfather told his auditors that, on Washington's 
 arrival at Cambridge, his first care was to reconnoiter the 
 British troops with his spy-glass, and to examine the condi- 
 tion of his own army. He found that the American troops 
 amounted to about fourteen thousand men. They were 
 extended all round the peninsula of Boston, a space of twelve 
 miles, from the high grounds of Roxbury on the right to 
 Mystic River on the left. Some were living in tents of sail- 
 cloth, some in shanties rudely constructed of boards, some in 
 huts of stone or turf with curious windows and doors of bas- 
 ket-work. 
 
 In order to be near the center and oversee the whole of this 
 
GEN. GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 
 {The First President of the United States) 
 
160 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 wide-stretched army, the commander-in-chief made his head- 
 quarters 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. 
 
 "When Washington first entered this mansion," said Grand- 
 father, "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 defense 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 General 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 personal and domestic life of the illus- 
 trious 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 considered themselves as 
 good as their officers, and seldom thought it necessary to obey 
 their commands, 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 
 

 
 v 
 
 AT CLOSE QUARTERS 
 
 11 Chair 
 
162 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 was the army with which Washington had to contend against 
 more than twenty veteran British regiments. 
 
 Some of the men had no muskets and almost all were with- 
 out bayonets. Heavy cannon, for battering the British forti- 
 fications, 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 sol- 
 diers. Yet, in spite of these perplexing difficulties, the eyes 
 of the whole people were fixed on Washington, expecting him 
 to undertake some great enterprise against the hostile army. 
 
 The first thing that he found necessary was to bring his 
 own men into better order and discipline. It is wonderful 
 how soon he transformed this rough mob of country people 
 into the semblance of a regular army. One of Washington's 
 most invaluable characteristics was the faculty of bringing 
 order out of confusion. 
 
 "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 one who could bring them safely through the great 
 contest against the might of England. They put entire con- 
 fidence in his courage, wisdom, and integrity." 
 
 "And were they not eager to follow him against the Brit- 
 ish?" 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 enemy. 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 Artemus Ward," replied Grandfather, 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 163 
 
 "a lawyer by profession. He had commanded the troops 
 before Washington's arrival. Another was General Charles 
 
 GEN. HORATIO GATES 
 
 Lee, who had been a colonel in the English army, and was 
 thought to possess vast military science. He came to the 
 
164 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 council, followed by two or three dogs which 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 plow in the furrow at the news of Lexington 
 battle. Then there was General Gates, who afterwards gained 
 great renown at Saratoga, and lost it again at Camden. Gen- 
 eral Greene, of Rhode Island, was likewise at the council. 
 Washington soon discovered him to be one of the best officers 
 in the army. " 
 
 When the generals were all assembled, Washington con- 
 sulted them about a plan for storming the English batteries. 
 But it was their unanimous opinion that so perilous an enter- 
 prise ought not to be attempted. The army, therefore, con- 
 tinued to besiege Boston, preventing the enemy from obtain- 
 ing supplies of provisions, but without taking immediate 
 measures to get possession of the town. In this manner the 
 summer, autumn, and winter passed. 
 
 "Many a night, doubtless," said Grandfather, "after Wash- 
 ington had been all day on horseback, galloping from one post 
 of the army to another, he used to sit in our great chair, 
 wrapped 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 fireplace. But, in real- 
 ity, he was meditating how to capture the British army, or 
 drive it out of Boston. Once, when there was a hard frost, he 
 formed a scheme to cross the Charles River on the ice. But 
 the other generals could not be persuaded that there was any 
 prospect of success." 
 
 "What were the British doing all this time?" inquired 
 Charley. "They lay idle in the town," replied Grandfather. 
 "Gage had been recalled to England, and was succeeded by 
 Sir William Howe. The British army and the inhabitants of 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 165 
 
 Boston were now in great distress. Being shut up in the 
 town so long, they had consumed almost all their provisions 
 and burned up all their fuel. The soldiers tore down the Old 
 North Church, and used its rotten boards and timbers for fire- 
 wood. To heighten their distress, the small-pox broke out. 
 They probably lost far more men by cold, hunger, and sick- 
 ness 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, 
 Washington, who had now a good supply of powder, began a 
 terrible cannonade and bombardment from Dorchester 
 heights. One of the cannon-balls which he fired into the 
 town struck the tower of the Brattle Street Church, where it 
 may still be seen. Howe made preparations to cross over in 
 boats and drive the Americans from their batteries, but was 
 prevented by a violent gale and storm. 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." 
 
 "Hurrah! Hurrah!" 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 wit- 
 nessed 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 audacious rebels, as they called the 
 Americans, would ever prevail against King George's army. 
 
166 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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 condi- 
 tion of these men, Grandfather singled out Peter Oliver, chief 
 justice of Massachusetts under the crown, and imagined him 
 walking through the streets of Boston on the morning before 
 he left it forever. 
 
 This effort of Grandfather's fancy may be called 
 
 the Tory's farewell 
 
 Old Chief Justice Oliver threw on his red cloak, and placed 
 his three-cornered hat on the top of his white wig. In this 
 garb he intended to go forth and take a parting look at objects 
 that had been familiar to him from his youth. Accordingly, 
 he began his walk in the north part of the town, and soon 
 came to Faneuil Hall. This edifice, the cradle of liberty, had 
 been used by the British officers as a playhouse. 
 
 "Would that I could see its walls crumble to dust!" thought 
 the chief justice; and, in the bitterness of his heart, he shook 
 his fist at the famous hall. "There began the mischief which 
 now threatens to rend asunder the British empire! The sedi- 
 tious harangues of demagogues in Faneuil Hall have made 
 rebels of a loyal people and deprived me of my country." 
 
 He then passed through a narrow avenue and found himself 
 in King Street, almost on the very spot which, six years 
 before, had been reddened by the blood of the Boston mas- 
 sacre. The chief justice 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 
 
HENRY CLINTON, COMMANDER OF THE BRITISH FORCES 
 
168 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 were still displayed the royal arms. Within that edifice he 
 had dispensed justice to the people in the days when his name 
 was never mentioned without honor. There, too, was the bal- 
 cony whence the trumpet had been sounded and the proclama- 
 tion read to an assembled multitude, whenever a new king of 
 England ascended the throne. 
 
 "I remember — I remember," said Chief Justice Oliver to 
 himself, "when his present most sacred majesty was pro- 
 claimed. Then how the people shouted! Each man would 
 have poured out his lifeblood 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 Washington Street was then called. Opposite 
 to the Town House was the waste foundation of the Old 
 North Church. The sacrilegious hands of the British soldiers 
 had torn it down, and kindled their barrack fires with the 
 fragments. 
 
 Farther on he passed beneath the tower of the Old South. 
 The threshold of this sacred edifice was worn by the iron 
 tramp of horses' feet; for the interior had been used as a rid- 
 ing-school and rendezvous for a regiment of dragoons. As 
 the chief justice lingered an instant at the door, a trumpet 
 sounded within, and the regiment came clattering forth and 
 galloped down the street. They were proceeding to the place 
 of embarkation. 
 
 "Let them go!" thought the chief justice, with somewhat 
 of an old Puritan feeling in his breast. "No good can come 
 of men who desecrate the house of God." 
 
 He went on a few steps farther, and paused before the Prov- 
 ince House. No range of brick stores had then sprung up to 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 169 
 
 hide the mansion of the royal governors from public view. It 
 had a spacious courtyard, bordered with trees, and inclosed 
 with a wrought-iron fence. On the cupola that surmounted 
 the edifice was the gilded figure on 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 Oliver 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. Behind him came a throng of officers, whose 
 steel scabbards clattered against the stones as they hastened 
 down the courtyard. Sir William Howe was a dark-complex- 
 ioned man, stern and haughty in his deportment. He stepped 
 as proudly, in the 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 to the 
 officers who attended him; "we have no time to hear lamenta- 
 tions now!" 
 
 And, coldly bowing, he departed. Thus the chief justice 
 had a foretaste of the mortifications which the exiled New Eng- 
 enders 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, 
 
170 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 he had been held in high respect. The old gentry of the prov- 
 ince were looked upon almost as noblemen while Massa- 
 chusetts was under royal government. 
 
 But now, all hereditary reverence for birth and rank were 
 gone. The inhabitants shouted in derision when they saw the 
 venerable form of the old chief justice. They laid the wrongs 
 of the country and their own sufferings during the siege — the 
 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. 
 
 "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 vio- 
 lence 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 affection- 
 ate remembrance of the people. But he, who would hence- 
 forth be dead to his native land, would have no epitaph save 
 scornful and vindictive words. The old man wept. 
 
 "They curse me — they invoke all kinds of evil on my head!" 
 thought he, in the midst of his tears. "But, if they could have 
 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, mis- 
 guided people!" 
 
 The chief justice flung out his hands with a gesture, as if he 
 were bestowing a parting benediction on his countrymen. 
 He had now reached the southern portion of the town and was 
 far within the range of cannon shot from the American bat- 
 teries. Close beside him was the broad stump of a tree, 
 which appeared to have been recently cut down. Being 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 171 
 
 weary and heavy at heart, he was about to sit down upon the 
 stump. 
 
 Suddenly it flashed upon his recollection that this was the 
 stump of Liberty Tree! The British soldiers had cut it down, 
 vainly boasting that they could as easily overthrow the liber- 
 ties of America. Under its shadowy branches, ten years 
 before, the brother of Chief Justice Oliver had been com- 
 pelled 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. 
 
 4 * Accursed tree!" cried the chief justice, gnashing his teeth; 
 for anger overcame his sorrow. "Would that thou hadst been 
 left standing till Hancock, Adams, and every other traitor 
 were hanged upon thy branches! Then fitly mightest thou 
 have been hewn down and cast into the flames." 
 
 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 benedictions. He felt as if one 
 breath of his native air would renew his life, yet would have 
 died rather than brealhe the same air with rebels. And such 
 likewise were the feelings of the other exiles, a thousand in 
 number, who departed with the British army. Were they not 
 the most unfortunate of men? 
 
 "The misfortunes of those exiled tories, " observed Lau- 
 rence, "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 patriots, rather than be 
 sorrowful with the tories. Grandfather, what did General 
 Washington do now?" 
 
172 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "As the rear of the British army embarked from the 
 wharf," replied Grandfather, "General Washington'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 oppression!" 
 
 "Dear Grandfather," asked little Alice, "did General 
 Washington bring our chair back to Boston?" 
 
 "I know not how long the chair remained at Cambridge," 
 said Grandfather. "Had it stayed there till this time, it could 
 not have found a better or more appropriate shelter. The 
 mansion which General Washington occupied is still standing; 
 and his apartments have since been tenanted by several emi- 
 nent men. Governor Everett, while a professor in the uni- 
 versity, resided there. So, at an after period, did Mr. Sparks, 
 whose invaluable labors have connected his name with the 
 immortality of Washington. And at this very time a vener- 
 able 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 of 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." 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 When Grandfather resumed his narrative, he told the chil- 
 dren that he had some difficulty in tracing the movements of 
 the chair during a short period after Washington's departure 
 from Cambridge. 
 
 Within a few months, however, it made its appearance at a 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 173 
 
 shop in Boston, before the door of which was seen a striped 
 pole. In short it was a barber's shop kept by Mr. Pierce, 
 
 LORD CORNWALLIS, WHO COMMANDED AT YORKTOWN 
 
 who prided himself on having shaved General Washington, 
 Old Put, and many other famous persons. 
 
174 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 "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 any- 
 where else. People used to sit in the chair, reading the news- 
 paper, or talking, and waiting to be shaved, while Mr. Pierce, 
 with his scissors and razor, was at work upon the heads or 
 chins of his other customers." 
 
 "I am sorry the chair could not betake itself to some more 
 suitable place of refuge, " said Laurence. "It was old now, 
 and must have longed for quiet. 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 contented itself in the pulpit of the Old South. There 
 it would have stood solitary, or with no livelier companion 
 than the silent organ, in the opposite gallery, six days out of 
 seven. I incline to think that it had seldom been situated 
 more to its mind than on the sanded floor of the snug little 
 barber's shop. " 
 
 Then Grandfather amused his children and himself 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. Chauncey, wear- 
 ing a white wig, which the barber took from his head and 
 placed upon a wig block. Half an hour, perhaps, was spent in 
 combing and powdering this reverend appendage to a clerical 
 skull. There, too, were officers of the Continental army, who 
 required their hair to be pomatumed and plastered, so as to 
 give them a bold and martial aspect. There, once in a while, 
 was seen the thin care-worn, melancholy visage of an old tory, 
 
176 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 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, some- 
 times a rosy little school-boy climbed into our chair, and sat 
 staring, with wide-open eyes, at the alligator, the rattlesnake, 
 and the other curiosities of the barber's shop. His mother 
 had sent him with sixpence in his hand, to get his glossy curls 
 cropped off. The incidents of the Revolution plentifully sup- 
 plied the barber's customers with topics of 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 Eng- 
 lish as they had formerly been to conquer it from the French. 
 
 "But very soon," said Grandfather, "came news from Phil- 
 adelphia, the most important that America had ever heard. 
 On July 4, 1776, Congress had signed the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence. The thirteen colonies were now free and inde- 
 pendent states. Dark as our prospects were, the inhabitants 
 welcomed the 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, col- 
 oring 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 required 
 more courage to sign the Declaration of Independence than 
 to fight the enemy in battle." 
 
 Grandfather acquiesced in Laurence's view of the matter. 
 He then touched briefly 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 contributed her full share 
 to the success of the contest. Wherever a battle was fought, 
 
GENERAL BURGOYNE, WHO SURRENDERED AT SARATOGA 
 
178 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 — whether at Long Island, White Plains, Trenton, Princeton, 
 Brandywine, or Germantown, — some of her brave sons were 
 found slain upon the field. 
 
 In October, 1777, Burgoyne surrendered his army, at Sara- 
 toga, to the American General, Gates. The captured troops 
 were sent to Massachusetts. Not long afterwards, Benjamin 
 Franklin made a treaty at Paris, by which France bound her- 
 self to assist our countrymen. The gallant Lafayette was 
 already fighting for our freedom by the side of Washington. 
 In 1778 a French fleet, commanded by Count d'Estaing, spent 
 a considerable time in Boston harbor. It marks the vicissi- 
 tudes of human affairs, that the French, our ancient enemies, 
 should come hither as comrades and brethren, and that kin- 
 dred England should be our foe. 
 
 "While the war was raging in the middle and southern 
 States," proceeded Grandfather, "Massachusetts had leisure 
 to settle a new constitution of government instead of the 
 royal charter. This was done in 1780. In the same year 
 John Hancock, who had been 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. "Gage and 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 over- 
 thrown 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 again adverted to the progress of the war. In 
 1781, Greene drove the British from the Southern States. In 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 179 
 
 October of the same year Washington compelled Cornwallis 
 to surrender his army, at Yorktown, in Virginia. This was 
 the last great event of the Revolutionary contest. King 
 George and his ministers perceived that all the might of Eng- 
 land could not compel America to renew her allegiance to the 
 crown. After a great deal of discussion, a treaty of peace 
 was signed in September, 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 Gen- 
 eral 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 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 have received wounds, which were 
 still rankling in their breasts. Many, alas! had fallen in bat- 
 tle, 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 mis- 
 guided men caused another mustering of soldiers. This affair 
 was called Shays' war, because a Captain Shays was the chief 
 leader of the insurgents. " 
 
 "O 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 
 
180 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 in the latter part of 1786 and the beginning of the following 
 year. Its principal cause was the badness of times. The 
 State of Massachusetts, in its public capacity, was very much 
 in debt. So, likewise, were many of the people. An insur- 
 rection 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 Lincoln, at the head of four 
 thousand men, to put down the insurrection. This general, 
 who had fought through several hard campaigns in the Revo- 
 lution, managed matters like an old soldier, 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 Puritans. Could the ancient 
 freemen of Massachusetts who lived in the days of the first 
 charter have arisen from their graves, they would probably 
 have voted for Samuel Adams to be governor." 
 
 "Well, Grandfather, I hope he satin 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 eighteen not uncomfortable years. Such a 
 remarkable piece of furniture, so evidently a relic of long- 
 departed times, could not escape the notice of Samuel Adams. 
 He made minute researches into its history, and 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. "Perhaps the history of our chair 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 181 
 
 was contained among these. At all events, Samuel Adams 
 appears to have been well acquainted with it. When he 
 became governor, he felt that he could have no more honor- 
 able seat than that which had been the ancient Chair of State. 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 
 
 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 
 
182 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 of about three-score 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 pur- 
 chaser. " 
 
 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 sat- 
 isfied. 
 
 "Oh, how I wish that the chair could speak!" cried he. 
 "After its long intercourse with mankind, — 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 centuries. The old gentleman had once pos- 
 sessed no inconsiderable share of fancy; and even now its 
 fading sunshine occasionally glimmered among his more 
 somber 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 related what we shall call : 
 
 grandfather's dream 
 
 Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? Where 
 were you, Charley, and dear little Alice? You had all gone 
 to rest, and left old Grandfather to meditate alone in his great 
 chair. The lamp had grown so dim that its light hardly 
 
BUNKER HILL MONUMENT 
 
184 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 illuminated the alabaster shade. The wood fire had crumbled 
 into heavy embers, among which the little flames danced, and 
 quivered, and sported about like fairies. 
 
 And here sat Grandfather all by himself. He knew that it 
 was bedtime ; yet he could not help longing to hear your merry 
 voices, or to hold a 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, Grand- 
 father leaned back in the great chair and closed his eyes, for 
 the sake of meditating more profoundly. 
 
 And, when Grandfather's meditations had grown very pro- 
 found indeed, he fancied that he heard a sound over his head, 
 as if somebody were preparing to speak. "Hem!" it said, in 
 a dry, husky tone. "H-e-m! Hem!" As Grandfather did 
 not know that any person was in the 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 firelight 
 were flickering upon it in such a manner that it really seemed 
 as if its oaken frame were all alive. What! Did it not move 
 its elbow? There, too! It certainly lifted one of its ponder- 
 ous fore-legs as if it had a notion of drawing itself a little 
 nearer to the fire. Meanwhile, the lion's head nodded at 
 Grandfather with as polite and sociable a look as a lion's vis- 
 age, 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 inti- 
 mately acquainted so long that I think it high time we have 
 a chat together. " 
 
 Grandfather was looking straight at the lion's head, and 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR . 185 
 
 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 possessed 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 uncommunicative 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 on 
 my wooden legs for joy. To be sure, the bystanders were so 
 fully occupied with their own feelings that my sympathy was 
 quite unnoticed." 
 
 "And have you often held a private chat with your 
 friends?" asked Grandfather. 
 
 "Not often," answered the chair. "I once talked with Sir 
 William Phips, and communicated my ideas about the witch- 
 craft delusion. Cotton Mather had many conversations with 
 me, and derived great benefit from my historical reminis- 
 cences. In the days of the Stamp Act I whispered in the ear 
 of Hutchinson, bidding him to remember what stock his coun- 
 trymen 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 conversational abilities? It 
 is an uncommon thing to meet with a chair that can talk." 
 
 "Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giving itself a 
 
186 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 hitch nearer to the hearth, "I am not apt to choose the most 
 suitable moments for unclosing my lips. Sometimes I have 
 inconsiderately begun to speak, when my occupant, lolling 
 back in my arms, was 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 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 impression at the moment, yet 
 my auditors invariably remember them only as a dream. 1 
 should not wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to do the 
 same to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Nor I either," thought Grandfather to himself. How- 
 ever, 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 narrative of my 
 adventures," replied the chair; "and it must be owned that 
 your correctness entitles you to be held up as a pattern to 
 biographers. Nevertheless, there are a few omissions which 
 I should be glad to see supplied. For instance, you made 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 those distinguished characters at one time or another." 
 
 Grandfather promised amendment if ever he should have 
 an opportunity to repeat his narrative. The good old chair, 
 which still seemed to retain a due regard for outward appear- 
 ance, 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 show to 
 much better advantage by the aid of a little varnish. 
 
 "And I have had a complaint in this joint," continued the 
 
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 187 
 
 chair, endeavoring to lift one of its legs, "ever since Charley 
 trundled his wheelbarrow against me." 
 
 "It shall be attended to," said Grandfather. 
 
 "And now, venerable chair, I have a favor to solicit. Dur- 
 ing an existence of more than two centuries you have had a 
 familiar intercourse with men who were esteemed the wisest 
 of their day. Doubtless, with your capacious understanding, 
 you have treasured up many an invaluable lesson of wisdom. 
 You certainly have had time enough to guess the riddle of 
 life. Tell us, poor mortals, then, how we may be happy." 
 
 The lion's head fixed its eyes thoughtfully upon the fire, 
 and the whole chair assumed an aspect of deep meditation. 
 Finally, it beckoned to Grandfather with its elbow, and made 
 a step sideways towards him as if it had a very important 
 secret to communicate. 
 
 "As long as I have stood in the midst of human affairs," 
 said the chair, with a very oracular enunciation, "I have con- 
 stantly observed that Justice, Truth, and Love are the chief 
 ingredients of every happy life." 
 
 "Justice, Truth, and Love!" exclaimed Grandfather. "We 
 need not exist two centuries to find out that these qualities 
 are essential to our happiness. This is no secret. Every 
 human being is borne 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. 
 
 "Not 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." 
 
188 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 
 
 In the energy of its utterance the oaken chair seemed to 
 stamp its foot, and trod (we hope unintentionally) upon Grand- 
 father'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!" 
 
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