Vane went back to England,” said Grandfather, “but there is reason
to believe that President Dunster sat in it when he held the first
commencement at Harvard College. You have often heard, children, how
careful our forefathers were to give their young people a good education.
They had scarcely cut down trees enough to make room for their own
dwellings before they began to think of establishing a college. Their
principal object was to rear up pious and learned ministers, and hence
old writers call Harvard College a school of the prophets.”
“Is the college a school of the prophets now?” asked Charley.
“It is a long while since I took my degree, Charley. You must ask some
of the recent graduates,” answered Grandfather. “As I was telling you,
President Dunster sat in Grandfather’s chair in 1642 when he conferred
the degree of bachelor of arts on nine young men. They were the first in
America who had received that honor. And now, my dear auditors, I must
confess that there are contradictory statements and some uncertainty
about the adventures of the chair for a period of almost ten years. Some
say that it was occupied by your own ancestor, William Hawthorne, first
Speaker of the House of Representatives. I have nearly satisfied myself,
however, that during most of this questionable period it was literally
the chair of state. It gives me much pleasure to imagine that several
successive governors of Massachusetts sat in it at the council board.”
“But, Grandfather,” interposed Charley, who was a matter-of-fact little
person, “what reason have you to imagine so?”
“Pray do imagine it, Grandfather,” said Laurence.
“With Charley’s permission I will,” replied Grandfather, smiling. “Let
us consider it settled, therefore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley,
and Endicott, each of them, when chosen governor, took his seat in our
great chair on Election day. In this chair, likewise, did those excellent
governors preside while holding consultation with the chief councilors
of the province, who were styled assistants. The governor sat in this
chair, too, whenever messages were brought to him from the chamber of
Representatives.”
And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather tediously about
the nature and forms of government that established themselves
almost spontaneously in Massachusetts and the other New England
colonies. Democracies were the natural growth of the new world. As
to Massachusetts, it was at first intended that the colony should be
governed by a council in London. But in a little while the people had
the whole power in their own hands, and chose annually the governor, the
councilors, and the representatives. The people of Old England had never
enjoyed anything like the liberties and privileges which the settlers
of New England now possessed. And they did not adopt these modes of
government after long study, but in simplicity, as if there were no other
way for people to be ruled.
“But, Laurence,” continued Grandfather, “when you want instruction on
these points you must seek it in Mr. Bancroft’s History. I am merely
telling the history of a chair. To proceed. The period during which the
governors sat in our chair was not very full of striking incidents. The
province was now established on a secure foundation, but it did not
increase so rapidly as at first, because the Puritans were no longer
driven from England by persecution. However, there was still a quiet and
natural growth. The legislature incorporated towns and made new purchases
of lands from the Indians. A very memorable event took place in 1643. The
colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth Connecticut, and New Haven formed a
union for the 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. It
somewhat resembled the league of the Amphictyons, which you remember
in Grecian history. But to return to our chair. In 1644 it was highly
honored, for Governor Endicott sat in it when he gave audience to an
ambassador 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 were then almost independent
of the mother country,” said Grandfather. “There was now a civil war in
England, and the King, as you may well suppose, had his hands full at
home, and could pay but little attention to these remote colonies. When
the Parliament got the power into their hands they likewise had enough
to do in keeping down the Cavaliers. Thus New England, like a young and
hardy lad whose father and mother neglect it, was left to take care of
itself. In 1646, King Charles was beheaded. Oliver Cromwell then became
Protector of England, and, as he was a Puritan himself and had risen
by the valor of the English Puritans, he showed himself a loving and
indulgent father to the Puritan colonies in America.”
Grandfather might have continued to talk in this dull manner nobody knows
how long, but, suspecting that Charley would find the subject rather dry,
he looked sidewise at that vivacious little fellow and saw him give an
involuntary yawn. Whereupon Grandfather proceeded with the history of the
chair, and related a very entertaining incident which will be found in
the next chapter.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Biography.= Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) was a master of the
short story as a means for interpreting character. His ancestors
were men of action—soldiers, seamen, and public officials. But he
was unlike them; all his life he was a dreamer who loved solitude
better than society. The subject of his dreaming was human character,
particularly the character of the Puritan founders of New England.
He told many legends of colonial times, some of them portraying the
stern methods of Governor Endicott, or telling a humorous story of
the Pine-Tree Shillings, or recounting the weird story of the old
gray champion who defied Governor Andros. But besides these legends
he wrote stories, visions of life in which one can scarcely draw
the line between reality and illusion; stories of lovers who sought
vainly for happiness; stories of a great stone face on the mountain
side, and what it signified. Somewhat longer than these tales—_Twice
Told Tales_ he called them—are his romances, such as _The Scarlet
Letter_, and _The House of the Seven Gables_. Besides his longer
romances he popularized New England history in the form of stories
for children. From one such book, _Grandfather’s Chair_, these
stories have been taken.
=Discussion.= 1. What can you tell of the character of each of the
children, Charley, Clara, Laurence, and Alice, from their treatment
of the chair? 2. What interesting facts did you learn about Harvard
College and President Dunster? 3. Mention some of the famous
governors that sat in Grandfather’s chair. 4. What does Grandfather
mean by saying that “democracies were the natural growth of the new
world”? 5. Tell about the union known as the United Colonies of
New England. 6. What famous governor sat in the chair in 1644? 7.
What was the occasion? 8. Why was Oliver Cromwell friendly to the
colonies? 9. State three interesting facts which you have learned
regarding the government of New England. 10. Pronounce the following:
grotesque; importuned; tediously; spontaneously; memorable; vivacious.
=Phrases=
a conscious being, 345, 2
venerable chair, 345, 6
grotesque figures, 345, 10
ancient occupants, 345, 13
took my degree, 346, 18
council board, 346, 31
striking incidents, 347, 24
league of the Amphictyons, 348, 2
gave audience, 348, 5
indulgent father, 348, 21
THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS
“According to the most authentic records, my dear children,” said
Grandfather, “the chair about this time had the misfortune to break its
leg. It was probably on account of this accident that it ceased to be
the seat of the governors of Massachusetts, for, assuredly, it would
have been ominous of evil to the commonwealth if the chair of state had
tottered upon three legs. Being therefore sold at auction—alas! what
a vicissitude for a chair that had figured in such high company!—our
venerable friend was knocked down to a certain Captain John Hull. This
old gentleman, on carefully 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 was mended!”
When they had all sufficiently examined the broken leg Grandfather told
them a story about Captain John Hull and the Pine-tree Shillings.
The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mint-master of Massachusetts,
and coined all the money that was made there. This was a new line of
business, for in the earlier days of the colony the current coinage
consisted of gold and silver money of England, Portugal, and Spain.
These coins being scarce, the people were often forced to barter their
commodities instead of selling them.
For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he perhaps exchanged a
bear-skin for it. If he wished for a barrel of molasses, he might
purchase it with a pile of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used instead
of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money called wampum, which was
made of clam-shells, and this strange sort of specie was likewise taken
in payment of debts by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never been
heard of. There was not money enough of any kind, in many parts of the
country, to pay the salaries of the ministers, so that they sometimes had
to take quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood instead of
silver or gold.
As the people grew more numerous and their trade one with another
increased, the want of current money was still more sensibly felt. To
supply the demand the general court passed a law for establishing a
coinage of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain John Hull was
appointed to manufacture this money, and was to have about one shilling
out of every twenty to pay him for the trouble of making them.
Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was handed over to Captain
John Hull. The battered silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver
buckles, and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out coats, and
silver hilts of swords that had figured at court—all such curious old
articles were doubtless thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far
the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the mines of
South America, which the English buccaneers—who were little better than
pirates—had taken from the Spaniards and brought to Massachusetts.
All this old and new silver being melted down and coined, the result was
an immense amount of splendid shillings, sixpences, and threepences.
Each had the date 1652 on the one side and the figure of a pine tree on
the other. Hence they were called pine-tree shillings. And for every
twenty shillings that he coined, you will remember, Captain John Hull was
entitled to put one shilling into his own pocket.
The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint-master would have
the best of the bargain. They offered him a large sum of money if he
would but give up that twentieth shilling which he was continually
dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull declared himself perfectly
satisfied with the shilling. And well he might be, for so diligently did
he labor that in a few years his pockets, his money-bags, and his strong
box were over-flowing with pine-tree shillings. This was probably the
case when he came into possession of Grandfather’s chair; and, as he had
worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper that he should have a
comfortable chair to rest himself in.
When the mint-master had grown very rich, a young man, Samuel Sewell
by name, came a-courting to his only daughter. His daughter—whose name
I do not know, but we will call her Betsey—was a fine, hearty damsel,
by no means so slender as some young ladies of our own days. On the
contrary, having always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian
puddings, and other Puritan dainties, she was as round and plump as a
pudding herself. With this round, rosy Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewell fall
in love. As he was a young man of good character, industrious in his
business, and a member of the church, the mint-master very readily gave
his consent.
“Yes, you may take her,” said he, in his rough way, “and you’ll find her
a heavy burden enough.”
On the wedding-day we may suppose that honest John Hull dressed himself
in a plum-colored coat, all the buttons of which were made of pine-tree
shillings. The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences, and the knees of
his small clothes were buttoned with silver threepences. Thus attired, he
sat with great dignity in Grandfather’s chair, and, being a portly old
gentleman, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On the opposite
side of the room, between her bridesmaids, sat Miss Betsey. She was
blushing with all her might, and looked like a full-blown peony or a
great red apple.
There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine purple coat and
gold-lace waistcoat, with as much other finery as the Puritan laws and
customs would allow him to put on. His hair was cropped close to his
head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any man to wear it below
the ears. But he was a very personable young man, and so thought the
bridesmaids and Miss Betsey herself.
The mint-master also was pleased with his new son-in-law, especially as
he had courted Miss Betsey out of pure love, and had said nothing at all
about her portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over, Captain Hull
whispered a word to two of his men-servants, who immediately went out,
and soon returned lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a
pair as wholesale merchants use for weighing bulky commodities, and quite
a bulky commodity was now to be weighed in them.
“Daughter Betsey,” said the mint-master, “get into one side of these
scales.”
Miss Betsey—or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call her—did as she was bid,
like a dutiful child, without any question of the why and wherefore. But
what her father could mean, unless to make her husband pay for her by the
pound (in which case she would have been a dear bargain), she had not the
least idea.
“And now,” said honest John Hull to the servants, “bring that box hither.”
The box to which the mint-master pointed was a huge, square, iron-bound
oaken chest; it was big enough, my children, for all four of you to play
at hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might and main, but could
not lift this enormous receptacle, and were finally obliged to drag it
across the floor. Captain Hull, then took a key from his girdle, unlocked
the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold! it was full to the brim
of bright pine-tree shillings fresh from the mint, and Samuel Sewell
began to think that his father-in-law had got possession of all the money
in the Massachusetts treasury. But it was only the mint-master’s honest
share of the coinage.
Then the servants, at Captain Hull’s command, heaped double handfuls of
shillings into one side of the scales while Betsey remained in the other.
Jingle, jingle, went the shillings as handful after handful was thrown
in, till, plump and ponderous as she was, they fairly weighed the young
lady from the floor.
“There, son Sewell!” cried the honest mint-master, 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 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 afterward 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.”
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Discussion.= 1. Describe bartering in the early colonial days. 2.
When was the coinage of money established by law? 3. Who was the
first mint master? 4. Upon what conditions did he manufacture the
coins? 5. What do you think of Captain Hull’s bargain? 6. Where did
the silver come from? 7. Describe the pine-tree shillings. 8. Tell
the story of the romance between Betsey Hull and Samuel Sewell. 9.
To what great position did Samuel Sewell attain? 10. Find out all
you can about our government mints today. 11. Where are some of them
located? 12. Where does the gold, silver, nickel, and copper come
from? 13. Pronounce the following: authentic; ominous; specie.
=Phrases=
authentic records, 349, 1
ominous of evil, 349, 5
knocked down, 349, 9
current coinage, 350, 13
barter their commodities, 350, 15
strange sort of specie, 350, 21
English buccaneers, 351, 5
personable young man, 352, 16
bulky commodities, 352, 25
enormous receptacle, 353, 1
THE STAMP ACT
“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 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 England.
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 manufacture articles for their
own use or to carry on trade with any nation but the English.
“Now,” continued Grandfather, “if King George III 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 their money too, to get Canada for King George?”
“True, they did,” said Grandfather, “and they told the English rulers so.
But the King and his ministers would not listen to good advice. In 1765
the British Parliament passed a stamp act.”
“What was that?” inquired Charley.
“The stamp act,” replied Grandfather, “was a law by which all deeds,
bonds, and other papers of the same kind were ordered to be marked with
the king’s stamp, and without this mark they were declared illegal and
void. Now, in order to get a blank sheet of paper with the king’s stamp
upon 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. They said that neither the King and Parliament nor
any other power on earth had a right to take their money out of their
pockets unless they freely gave it. And, rather than pay threepence when
it was unjustly demanded, they resolved to sacrifice all the wealth of
the country, and their lives along with it. They therefore made a most
stubborn resistance to the stamp act.”
“That was noble!” exclaimed Laurence. “I understand how it was. If
they had quietly 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. Accordingly, nine colonies, both Northern and Southern, sent
delegates to the city of New York.
“And did they consult about going to war with England?” asked Charley.
“No, Charley,” answered Grandfather; “a great deal of talking was yet
to be done before England and America could come to blows. The Congress
stated the rights and grievances of the colonists. They sent a 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
assembly.”
These remonstrances and petitions, as Grandfather observed, were the work
of grave, thoughtful, and prudent men. Meantime the young and hot-headed
people went to work in their own way. It is probable that the petitions
of Congress would have had little or no effect on the British statesmen
if the violent deeds of the American people had not shown how much
excited the people were. Liberty Tree was soon heard of in England.
“What was Liberty Tree?” inquired Clara.
“It was an old elm tree,” answered Grandfather, “which stood near the
corner of Essex street, opposite the Boylston Market. Under the spreading
branches of this great tree the people used to assemble whenever they
wished to express their feelings and opinions. Thus, after a while it
seemed as if the liberty of the country was connected with Liberty Tree.”
“It was glorious fruit for a tree to bear,” remarked Laurence.
“It bore strange fruit sometimes,” said Grandfather. “One morning in
August, 1765, two figures were found hanging on the sturdy branches of
Liberty Tree. They were dressed in square-skirted coats and smallclothes,
and as their wigs hung down over their faces they looked like real men.
One was intended to represent the Earl of Bute, who was supposed to have
advised the King to tax America. The other was meant for the effigy of
Andrew Oliver, a gentleman belonging to one of the most respectable
families in Massachusetts.”
“What harm had he done?” inquired Charley.
“The King had appointed him to be distributer of the stamps,” answered
Grandfather. “Mr. 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 afterward 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.”
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Discussion.= 1. Describe the loyalty of the colonists to King
George. 2. Give two reasons why the colonies began to feel more
and more independent. 3. What were some of the laws passed by the
English Parliament that made the colonies wish for independence? 4.
What was the Stamp Act? 5. Would you have felt as Clara did or as
Laurence felt? 6. Describe the change that these wrongs wrought in
the colonists. 7. Describe the congress proposed by the Massachusetts
legislature. 8. What did this congress do? 9. Why was this congress
so important? 10. How did Liberty Tree get its name? 11. What “fruit”
did it bear? 12. Pronounce the following: comprehend; sagacious;
tributaries; effigy; Parliament.
=Phrases=
sagacious men, 355, 11
illegal and void, 356, 1
stubborn resistance, 356, 17
the aspect of the people, 356, 24
oppressive act, 356, 26
subject of the Crown, 356, 33
public measures, 356, 34
humble petition to the King, 357, 12
memorable event, 357, 18
remonstrances and petitions, 357, 22
violent deeds, 357, 27
hanging him in effigy, 358, 13
BRITISH SOLDIERS STATIONED IN BOSTON
The next evening, Clara, who remembered that our chair had been left
standing in the rain under Liberty Tree, earnestly besought Grandfather
to tell when and where it had next found shelter. Perhaps she was afraid
that the venerable chair, by being exposed to the inclemency of a
September gale, might get the rheumatism in its aged joints.
“The chair,” said Grandfather, “after the ceremony of Mr. Oliver’s oath,
appears to have been quite 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 skillful 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 Mr. Hutchinson get possession of it again?” inquired
Charley.
“I know not,” answered Grandfather, “unless he considered it a dishonor
and disgrace to the chair to have stood under Liberty Tree. At all
events, he suffered it to remain at the British Coffee-house, which
was the principal hotel in Boston. It could not possibly have found a
situation where it would be more in the midst of business and bustle, or
would witness more important events, or be occupied by a greater variety
of persons.”
Grandfather went on to tell the proceedings of the despotic King and
ministry of England after the repeal of the stamp act. They could not
bear to think that their right to tax America should be disputed by the
people. In the year 1767, therefore, they caused Parliament to pass an
act for laying a duty on tea and some other articles that were in general
use. Nobody could now buy a pound of tea without paying a tax to King
George. This scheme was pretty craftily contrived, for the women of
America were very fond of tea, and did not like to give up the use of it.
But the people were as much opposed to this new act of Parliament as
they had been to the stamp act. England, however, was determined that
they should submit. In order to compel their obedience two regiments,
consisting 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 overawed by red-coats as it had been in the days of old Sir
Edmond Andros.
In the month of November more regiments arrived. There were now four
thousand troops in Boston. The Common was whitened with their tents.
Some of the soldiers were lodged in Faneuil Hall, which the inhabitants
looked upon as a consecrated place because it had been the scene of a
great many meetings in favor of liberty. One regiment was placed in the
Town House, which we now call the Old State House. The lower floor of
this edifice had hitherto been used by the merchants as an exchange. In
the upper stories were the chambers of the judges, the representatives,
and the governor’s council. The venerable councilors 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, fife, and bugle
drowning the holy organ-peal and the voices of the singers. It would
appear as if the British took every method to insult the feelings of the
people.
“Grandfather,” cried Charley, impatiently, “the people did not go to
fighting half soon enough! These British red-coats ought to have been
driven back to their vessels the very moment they landed on Long Wharf.”
“Many a hot-headed young man said the same as you do, Charley,” answered
Grandfather, “but the elder and wiser people saw that the time was not
yet come. Meanwhile, let us take another peep at our old chair.”
“Ah, it drooped its head, I know,” said Charley, “when it saw how the
province was disgraced. Its old Puritan friends never would have borne
such doings.”
“The chair,” proceeded Grandfather, “was now continually occupied by some
of the high Tories, as the King’s friends were called, who frequented the
British Coffee House. Officers of the custom-house too, which stood on
the opposite side of King Street, often sat in the chair wagging their
tongues against John Hancock.”
“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 regiments, when
not on duty, used to fling themselves into the arms of our venerable
chair. Fancy one of them a red-nosed captain in his scarlet uniform,
playing with the hilt of his sword and making a circle of his brother
officers merry with ridiculous jokes at the expense of the poor Yankees.
And perhaps he would call for a bottle of wine or a steaming bowl of
punch and drink confusion to all rebels.”
“Our grave old chair must have been scandalized at such scenes,” observed
Laurence—“the chair that had been the Lady Arbella’s and which the holy
apostle Eliot had consecrated.”
“It certainly was little less than sacrilege,” replied Grandfather; “but
the time was coming when even the churches where hallowed pastors had
long preached the word of God were to be torn down or desecrated by the
British troops. Some years passed, however, before such things were done.”
Grandfather now told his auditors that in 1769 Sir Francis Bernard went
to England, after having been governor of Massachusetts ten years. He was
a gentleman of many good qualities, an excellent scholar, and a friend
to learning. But he was naturally of an arbitrary disposition, and he had
been bred at the University of Oxford, where young men were taught that
the divine right of kings was the only thing to be regarded in matters
of government. Such ideas were ill adapted to please the people of
Massachusetts. They rejoiced to get rid of Sir Francis Bernard, but liked
his 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
boy only eleven years old. This event made a great noise in town and
country, and much increased the resentment that was already felt against
the servants of the Crown.
“Now, children,” said Grandfather, “I wish to make you comprehend the
position of the British troops in King Street. This is the same which we
now call State Street. On the south side of the Town House, or Old State
House, was what military men call a court of guard, defended by two brass
cannons which pointed directly at one of the doors of the above edifice.
A large party of soldiers were always stationed in the court of guard.
The custom-house stood at a little distance down King Street, nearly
where the Suffolk Bank now stands, and a sentinel was continually pacing
before its front.”
“I shall remember this tomorrow,” 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 townspeople were very angry at the government
for sending soldiers to overawe them. But those gray-headed men were
cautious, and kept their thoughts and feelings in their own breasts,
without putting themselves in the way of the British bayonets.
The younger people, however, could hardly be kept within such prudent
limits. They reddened with wrath at the very sight of a soldier, and
would have been willing to come to blows with them at any moment. For it
was their opinion that every tap of a British drum within the peninsula
of Boston was an insult to the brave old town.
“It was sometimes the case,” continued 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.”
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Discussion.= 1. What act did Parliament pass after the repeal of
the Stamp Act? 2. What did England do to compel the colonists to
submit to this new act? 3. Why was it a good thing for the chair to
be in the British Coffee House? 4. Describe the British soldiers in
Boston, on the Common, in Faneuil Hall, and in the Old State House.
5. How was the Sabbath spent? 6. What did the chair experience during
these days? 7. What happened at the custom-house? 8. What was the
difference in behavior between the older townspeople and the younger
ones? 9. What was the King’s purpose in stationing the British
soldiers in Boston? 10. Pronounce the following: inclemency; aged;
edifice; frequented.
=Phrases=
exposed to the inclemency, 359, 5
under cover of the night, 359, 12
committed to the care, 359, 13
skillful joiner, 359, 13
craftily contrived, 359, 33
the Common, 360, 9
pomp and parade, 360, 10
venerable councilors, 360, 22
arbitrary disposition, 362, 2
divine right of kings, 362, 4
court of guard, 362, 20
within such prudent limits, 363, 3
THE BOSTON MASSACRE
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 townspeople and the soldiers in
order to prepare the minds of his auditors for a very terrible event. It
was one that did more to heighten the quarrel between England and America
than anything that had yet occurred.
Without further preface Grandfather began the story of the Boston
Massacre.
It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset music of the British
regiments was heard as usual throughout the town. The shrill fife and
rattling drum awoke the echoes in King Street while the last ray of
sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the Town House, And now all
the sentinels were posted. One of them marched up and down before the
custom-house, treading a short path through the snow and longing for the
time when he would be dismissed to the warm fireside of the guard-room.
Meanwhile, Captain Preston was perhaps sitting in our great chair before
the hearth of the British Coffee House. In the course of the evening
there were two or three slight commotions which seemed to indicate that
trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men stood at the corners of
the streets or walked along the narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers
who were dismissed from duty passed by them, shoulder to shoulder, with
the regular step which they had learned at the drill. Whenever these
encounters took place it appeared to be the object of the young men to
treat the soldiers with as much incivility as possible.
“Turn out, you lobster-backs!” one would say. “Crowd them off the
sidewalks!” another would cry. “A red-coat has no right in Boston
streets!”
“Oh, you rebel rascals!” perhaps the soldiers would reply, glaring
fiercely at the young men. “Some day or other we’ll make our way through
Boston streets at the point of the bayonet!”
Once or twice such disputes as these brought on a scuffle, which passed
off, however, without attracting much notice. About eight o’clock, for
some unknown cause, an alarm bell rang loudly and hurriedly.
At the sound many people ran out of their houses, supposing it to be an
alarm of fire. But there were no flames to be seen, nor was there any
smell of smoke in the clear, frosty air, so that most of the townsmen
went back to their own firesides and sat talking with their wives and
children about the calamities of the times. Others who were younger and
less prudent remained in the streets, for there seems to have been a
presentiment that some strange event was on the eve of taking place.
Later in the evening, not far from nine o’clock, several young men passed
by the Town House and walked down King Street. The sentinel was still
on his post in front of the custom-house, pacing to and fro, while as
he turned, a gleam of light from some neighboring window glittered on
the barrel of his musket. At no great distance were the 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 townspeople rushed into
King Street by various avenues and gathered in a crowd round about the
custom-house. It seemed wonderful how such a multitude had started up all
of a sudden.
The wrongs and insults which the people had been suffering for many
months now kindled them into a rage. They threw snowballs and lumps of
ice at the soldiers. As the tumult grew louder it reached the ears of
Captain Preston, the officer of the day. He immediately ordered eight
soldiers of the main guard to take their muskets and follow him. They
marched across the street, forcing their way roughly through the crowd
and pricking the townspeople with their bayonets.
A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterward general of the American
artillery) 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 Captain Preston, haughtily. “Do not interfere,
sir. Leave me to manage the affair.”
Arriving at the sentinel’s post, Captain Preston drew up his men in
a semicircle with their faces to the crowd and their rear to the
custom-house. When the people saw the officer and beheld the threatening
attitude with which the soldiers fronted them their rage became almost
uncontrollable.
“Fire, you lobster-backs!” bellowed some.
“You dare not fire, you cowardly red-coats!” cried others.
“Rush upon them!” shouted many voices. “Drive the rascals to their
barracks! Down with them! Down with them! Let them fire if they dare!”
Amid the uproar the soldiers stood glaring at the people with the
fierceness of men whose trade was to shed blood.
Oh, what a crisis had now arrived! Up to this very moment the angry
feelings between England and America might have been pacified. England
had but to stretch out the hand of reconciliation and acknowledge that
she had hitherto mistaken her rights, but would do so no more. Then the
ancient bonds of brotherhood would again have been knit together as
firmly as in old times. The habit of loyalty which had grown as strong
as instinct was not utterly overcome. The perils shared, the victories
won, in the Old French War, when the soldiers of the colonies fought
side by side with their comrades from beyond the sea, were unforgotten
yet. England was still that beloved country which the colonists called
their 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 level bayonets. Captain Preston
waved his sword and uttered a command which could not be distinctly
heard amid the uproar of shouts that issued from a hundred throats. But
his soldiers deemed that he had spoken the fatal mandate, “Fire!” The
flash of their muskets lighted up the street, and the report rang loudly
between the edifices. It was said, too, that the figure of a man with a
cloth hanging down over his face was seen to step into the balcony of the
custom-house and discharge a musket at the crowd.
A gush of smoke had overspread the scene. It rose heavily, as if it were
loath to reveal the dreadful spectacle beneath it. Eleven of the sons of
New England lay stretched upon the street. Some, sorely wounded, were
struggling to rise again. Others stirred not nor groaned, for they were
past all pain. Blood was streaming upon the snow, and that purple stain
in the midst of King Street, though it melted 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 had shed the blood of their fellow-creatures. And now that
this idea was forcibly presented to her, it affected the sweet child with
bewilderment and horror.
“I ought to have remembered our dear little Alice,” said Grandfather
reproachfully to himself. “Oh, what a pity! Her heavenly nature has now
received its first impression of earthly sin and violence.—Well, Clara,
take her to bed and comfort her. Heaven grant that she may dream away
the recollection of the Boston massacre!”
“Grandfather,” said Charley when Clara and little Alice had retired, “did
not the people rush upon the soldiers and take revenge?”
“The town drums beat to arms,” replied 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
townsmen appeared ready to throw themselves upon the bayonets.”
“And how did it end?” asked Charley.
“Governor Hutchinson hurried to the spot,” said Grandfather, “and
besought the people to have 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 people when they had such a great object to accomplish.”
“Nevertheless, the world has seen no grander movement than that of our
Revolution from first to last,” said Grandfather. “The people, to a man,
were full of a great and noble sentiment. True, there may be much fault
to find with their mode of expressing this sentiment, but they knew no
better; the necessity was upon them to act out their feelings in the best
manner they could. We must forgive what was wrong in their actions, and
look into their hearts and minds for the honorable motives that impelled
them.”
“And I suppose,” said Laurence, “there were men who knew how to act
worthily of what they felt.”
“There were many such,” replied Grandfather, “and we will speak of some
of them hereafter.”
Grandfather here made a pause. That night Charley had a dream about the
Boston massacre, and thought that he himself was in the crowd and struck
down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence dreamed that he was
sitting in our great chair at the window of the British Coffee-house, and
beheld the whole scene which Grandfather had described. It seemed to him,
in his dream, that if the townspeople and the soldiers would have but
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.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Discussion.= 1. Describe the scene before the custom-house on the
evening of March 3, 1770. 2. What do you think of the conduct of the
young men of Boston? 3. How did it happen that the crowd gathered so
quickly? 4. What is your opinion of Captain Preston as compared with
Henry Knox? 5. Why was the situation called a crisis? 6. How could it
have been avoided? 7. What was the effect of the fateful order? 8. Do
you admire Governor Hutchinson’s stand? 9. What happened to Captain
Preston and his soldiers? 10. What defense did Captain Preston
probably make? 11. Do you sympathize with Laurence in his feeling
about the Revolution? 12. In what respects do you think the dreams
of the two boys expressed their natures? 13. Read the paragraphs
that seem to you most thrilling and dramatic. 14. Select sentences
that you think show Hawthorne’s skill at descriptive writing. 15.
Pronounce the following: hearth; incivility; peremptory; villains.
=Phrases=
awoke the echoes, 364, 12
lingering on the cupola, 364, 13
lobster-backs, 364, 28
rebel rascals, 364, 31
peremptory tones, 365, 24
accountable to, 365, 27
fatal mandate, 367, 12
loath to reveal, 367, 18
unworldly infant, 367, 27
strict justice, 368, 14
majestic movement, 368, 22
mobs and broils, 368, 23
necessity was upon them, 368, 30
sole remaining witness, 369, 14
SOME FAMOUS PORTRAITS
The next evening the astral lamp was lighted earlier than usual, because
Laurence was very much engaged in looking over the collection of
portraits which had been his New Year’s gift from Grandfather.
Among them he found the features of more than one famous personage who
had been connected with the adventures of our old chair. Grandfather
bade him draw the table nearer to the fireside, and they looked over
the portraits together, while Clara and Charley likewise lent their
attention. As for little Alice, she sat in Grandfather’s lap, and seemed
to see the very men alive whose faces were there represented.
Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the portrait of a stern,
grim-looking man in plain attire, of much more modern fashion than that
of the old Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one of those
iron-hearted men. Beneath the portrait was the name of Samuel Adams.
“He was a man of great note in all the doings that brought about the
Revolution,” said Grandfather. “His character was such that it seemed as
if one of the ancient Puritans had been sent back to earth to animate
the people’s hearts with the same abhorrence of tyranny that had
distinguished the earliest settlers. He was as religious as they, as
stern and inflexible, and as deeply imbued with democratic principles.
He, better than any one else, may be taken as a 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
a humble occupation, but with his tongue and pen he made the King of
England tremble on his throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the
strong men of our country.”
“Here is one whose looks show a very different character,” observed
Laurence, turning to the portrait of John Hancock. “I should think, by
his splendid dress and courtly aspect, that he was one of the King’s
friends.”
“There never was a greater contrast than between Samuel Adams and
John Hancock,” said Grandfather, “yet they were of the same side in
politics, and had an equal agency in the Revolution. Hancock was born to
the inheritance of the largest fortune in New England. His tastes and
habits were aristocratic. He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion,
magnificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was glittering
and pompous in external things. His manners were so polished that there
stood not a nobleman at the footstool of 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.
“Warren was an eloquent and able patriot,” replied Grandfather. “He
deserves a lasting memory for his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty.
No man’s voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph Warren’s.
If his death had not happened so early in the contest, he would probably
have gained a high name as a soldier.”
The next portrait was a venerable man who held his thumb under his
chin, and through his spectacles appeared to be attentively reading a
manuscript.
“Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that ever lived,” said
Grandfather. “This is Benjamin Franklin. But I will not try to compress
into a few sentences the character of the sage who, as a Frenchman
expressed it, snatched the lightning from the sky and the scepter from a
tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help you to the knowledge of Franklin.”
The book likewise contained portraits of James Otis and Josiah Quincy.
Both of them, Grandfather observed, were men of wonderful talents and
true patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones of a trumpet
arousing the country to defend its freedom. Heaven seemed to have
provided a greater number of eloquent men than had appeared at any other
period, in order that the people might be fully instructed as to their
wrongs and the method of resistance.
“It is marvelous,” said Grandfather, “to see how many powerful writers,
orators, and soldiers started up just at the time when they were wanted.
There was a man for every kind of work. It is equally wonderful that men
of such different characters were all made to unite in the one object
of establishing the freedom and independence of America. There was an
overruling Providence above them.”
“Here was another great man,” remarked Laurence, pointing to the portrait
of John Adams.
“Yes; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest, and most able man,” said
Grandfather. “At the period of which we are now speaking he was a lawyer
in Boston. 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 Nathaniel
Greene, the best soldier except Washington in the Revolutionary army,
was a Quaker and a blacksmith. All these became illustrious men, and can
never be forgotten in American history.
“And any boy who is born in America may look forward to the same things,”
said our ambitious friend Charley.
After these observations Grandfather drew the book of portraits toward
him, showed the children several British peers and members of Parliament
who had exerted themselves either for or against the rights of America.
There were the Earl of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North. These were
looked upon as deadly enemies to our country.
Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, afterward Earl of Chatham, who
spent so much of his wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England
of the consequences of her injustice. He fell down on the floor of the
House of Lords after uttering his almost 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 Barré,
who had been among our fathers, and knew that they had courage enough to
die for their rights. There was Charles James Fox, who never rested until
he had silenced our enemies in the House of Commons.
“It is very remarkable to observe how many of the ablest orators in
the British Parliament were favorable to America,” said Grandfather.
“We ought to remember these great Englishmen with gratitude, for their
speeches encouraged our fathers almost as much as those of our own
orators in 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, Barré, 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 contending against the rights of
their own native land.”
“What were the names of some of them?” inquired Charley.
“Governor Hutchinson, Chief-justice Oliver, Judge Auchmuty, the Reverend
Mather Byles, and several other clergymen were among the most noted
loyalists,” answered Grandfather.
“I wish the people had tarred and feathered every man of them!” cried
Charley.
“That wish is very wrong, Charley,” said Grandfather. “You must not think
that there was no integrity and honor except among those who stood up
for the freedom of America. For aught I know, there was quite as much of
these qualities on one side as on the other. Do you see nothing admirable
in a faithful adherence to an unpopular cause? Can you not respect
that principle of loyalty which made the royalists give up country,
friends, fortune, everything, rather than be false to their king? It was
a mistaken principle, but many of them cherished it honorably and were
martyrs to it.”
“Oh, I was wrong,” said Charley, ingenuously. “And I would risk my
life rather than one of those good old royalists should be tarred and
feathered.”
“The time is now come when we may judge fairly of them,” continued
Grandfather. “Be the good and true men among them honored, for they were
as much our countrymen as the patriots were. And, thank Heaven! our
country need not be ashamed of her sons—of most of them at least—whatever
side they took in the Revolutionary contest.”
Among the portraits was one of King George III. Little Alice clapped her
hands and seemed pleased with the bluff good nature of his physiognomy.
But Laurence thought it strange that a man with such a face, indicating
hardly a common share of intellect, should have had influence enough on
human affairs to convulse the world with war. Grandfather observed that
this poor king had always appeared to him one of the most unfortunate
persons that ever lived. He was so honest and conscientious that if he
had been only a private man his life would probably have been blameless
and happy. But his was that worst of fortunes—to be placed in a station
far beyond his abilities.
“And so,” said Grandfather, “his life, while he retained what intellect
Heaven had gifted him with, was one long mortification. At last he
grew crazed with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years the monarch
of England was confined as a madman. In his old age, too, God took away
his eyesight, so that his royal palace was nothing to him but a dark,
lonesome prison-house.”
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Discussion.= 1. Describe the family group around the fireside. 2.
What is the center of interest? 3. Contrast the pictures of Samuel
Adams and John Hancock. 4. What is said about General Joseph Warren?
5. Would you have been able to recognize Hawthorne’s word picture
of Benjamin Franklin without the name? 6. How does Grandfather
explain the existence of these remarkable men just when they were
most needed? 7. Do you know of any other time in our history when
this seemed true? 8. Mention the humble origin of some of the
Revolutionary patriots. 9. What do you think about them as fitting
people to be founders of a great democracy? 10; What suggestion
was there in this for Charley? 11. Name four famous Englishmen who
took sides with the colonies. 12. What was their great service? 13.
What do you think of Grandfather’s answer to Charley’s outburst
against the loyalists? 14. Do you admire the quality Grandfather
shows of seeing both sides of a question? 15. What was Grandfather’s
comment on King George III? 16. Pronounce the following: abhorrence;
gorgeous; courtier; admirable; ingenuously.
=Phrases=
astral lamp, 370, 1
animate the people’s hearts, 370, 20
abhorrence of tyranny, 370, 20
imbued with democratic principles, 370, 22
equal agency, 371, 3
gorgeous attire, 371, 6
skillful courtier, 371, 10
overruling Providence, 372, 12
ambitious dreams, 372, 24
tyrannical proceedings, 373, 29
blight upon their faculties, 373, 34
faithful adherence, 374, 10
principle of loyalty, 374, 11
bluff good nature of his physiognomy, 374, 26
THE GRAY CHAMPION
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
There was once a time when New England groaned under the actual pressure
of heavier wrongs than those threatened ones which brought on the
Revolution. James II, the bigoted successor of Charles the Voluptuous,
had annulled the charters of all the colonies, and sent a harsh and
unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and endanger our
religion. The administration of Sir Edmund Andros lacked scarcely a
single characteristic of tyranny: a Governor and Council, holding office
from the King, and wholly independent of the Country; laws made and
taxes levied without concurrence of the people, immediate or by their
representatives; the rights of private citizens violated, and the titles
of all landed property declared void; the voice of complaint stifled by
restrictions on the press; and, finally, disaffection overawed by the
first band of mercenary troops that ever marched on our free soil. For
two years our ancestors were kept in sullen submission by that filial
love which had invariably secured their allegiance to the mother country,
whether its head chanced to be a Parliament, Protector, or Monarch. Till
these evil times, however, such allegiance had been merely nominal, and
the colonists had ruled themselves, enjoying far more freedom than even
yet the privilege of the native subjects of Great Britain.
At length a rumor reached our shores that the Prince of Orange had
ventured on an enterprise the success of which would be the triumph of
civil and religious rights and the salvation of New England. It was but
a doubtful whisper; it might be false, or the attempt might fail; and,
in either case, the man that stirred against King James would lose his
head. Still, the intelligence produced a marked effect. The people smiled
mysteriously in the streets, and threw bold glances at their oppressors;
while, far and wide, there was a subdued and silent agitation, as if
the slightest signal would rouse the whole land from its sluggish
despondency. Aware of their danger, the rulers resolved to avert it by an
imposing display of strength, and perhaps to confirm their despotism by
yet harsher measures. One afternoon in April, 1689, Sir Edmund Andros and
his favorite councilors, being warm with wine, assembled the red-coats of
the Governors’ Guard, and made their appearance in the streets of Boston.
The sun was near setting when the march commenced.
The roll of the drum, at that unquiet crisis, seemed to go through the
streets, less as the martial music of the soldiers, than as a muster-call
to the inhabitants themselves. A multitude, by various avenues, assembled
in King Street, which was destined to be the scene, nearly a century
afterwards, of another encounter between the troops of Britain and a
people struggling against her tyranny. Though more than sixty years had
elapsed since the Pilgrims came, this crowd of their descendants still
showed the strong and somber features of their character, perhaps more
strikingly in such a stern emergency than on happier occasions. There was
the sober garb, the general severity of mien, the gloomy but undismayed
expression, the Scriptural forms of speech, and the confidence in
Heaven’s blessing on a righteous cause, which would have marked a band of
the original Puritans, when threatened by some peril of the wilderness.
Indeed, it was not yet time for the old spirit to be extinct; since there
were men in the street, that day, who had worshiped there beneath the
trees, before a house was reared to the God for whom they had become
exiles. Old soldiers of the Parliament were here, too, smiling grimly
at the thought that their aged arms might strike another blow against
the house of Stuart. Here, also, were the veterans of King Philip’s
war, who had burned villages and slaughtered young and old, with pious
fierceness, while the godly souls throughout the land were helping them
with prayer. Several ministers were scattered among the crowd, which,
unlike all other mobs, regarded them with such reverence as if there were
sanctity in their very garments. These holy men exerted their influence
to quiet the people, but not to disperse them. Meantime, the purpose of
the Governor, in disturbing the peace of the town, at a period when the
slightest commotion might throw the country into a ferment, was almost
the universal subject of inquiry, and variously explained.
“Satan will strike his master-stroke presently,” cried some, “because he
knoweth that his time is short. All our godly pastors are to be dragged
to prison! We shall see them at a Smithfield fire in King Street!”
Hereupon the people of each parish gathered closer round their minister,
who looked calmly upwards and assumed a more apostolic dignity, as well
befitted a candidate for the highest honor of his profession, the crown
of martyrdom. It was actually fancied, at that period, that New England
might have a John Rogers of her own, to take the place of that worthy in
the Primer.
“We are to be massacred, both man and male child!” cried others.
Neither was this rumor wholly discredited, although the wiser class
believed the Governor’s object somewhat less atrocious. His predecessor
under the old charter, Bradstreet, a venerable companion of the first
settlers, was known to be in town. There were grounds for conjecturing
that Sir Edmund Andros intended, at once, to strike terror, by a parade
of military force, and to confound the opposite faction by possessing
himself of their chief.
“Stand firm for the old charter, Governor!” shouted the crowd, seizing
upon the idea. “The good old Governor Bradstreet!”
While this cry was at the loudest, the people were surprised by the
well-known figure of Governor Bradstreet himself, a patriarch of
nearly ninety, who appeared on the elevated steps of a door, and, with
characteristic mildness, besought them to submit to the constituted
authorities.
“My children,” concluded this venerable person, “do nothing rashly. Cry
not aloud, but pray for the welfare of New England, and expect patiently
what the Lord will do in this matter!”
The event was soon to be decided. All this time the roll of the drum
had been approaching through Cornhill, louder and deeper, till with
reverberations from house to house, and the regular tramp of martial
footsteps, it burst into the street. A double rank of soldiers made their
appearance, occupying the whole breadth of the passage, with shouldered
matchlocks, and matches burning, so as to present a row of fires in the
dusk. Their steady march was like the progress of a machine, that would
roll irresistibly over everything in its way. Next, moving slowly, with
a confused clatter of hoofs on the pavement, rode a party of mounted
gentlemen, the central figure being Sir Edmund Andros, elderly, but erect
and soldier-like. Those around him were his favorite councilors, and the
bitterest foes of New England. At his right hand rode Edward Randolph,
our arch-enemy, that “blasted wretch,” as Cotton Mather calls him, who
achieved the downfall of our ancient government, and was followed with
a sensible curse, through life and to his grave. On the other side was
Bullivant, scattering jests and mockery as he rode along. Dudley came
behind, with a downcast look, dreading, as well he might, to meet the
indignant gaze of the people, who beheld him, their only countryman by
birth, among the oppressors of his native land. The captain of a frigate
in the harbor, and two or three civil officers under the Crown, were also
there. But the figure which most attracted the public eye, and stirred
up the deepest feeling, was the Episcopal clergyman of King’s Chapel,
riding haughtily among the magistrates in his priestly vestments, the
fitting representative of prelacy and persecution, the union of Church
and State, and all those abominations which had driven the Puritans to
the wilderness. Another guard of soldiers, in double rank, brought up the
rear.
The whole scene was a picture of the condition of New England, and
its moral, the deformity of any government that does not grow out of
the nature of things and the character of the people. On one side the
religious multitude, with their sad visages and dark attire, and on the
other, the group of despotic rulers, with the High-Churchman in the
midst, and here and there a crucifix at their bosoms, all magnificently
clad, flushed with wine, proud of unjust authority, and scoffing at the
universal groan. And the mercenary soldiers, waiting but the word to
deluge the street with blood, showed the only means by which obedience
could be secured.
“O Lord of Hosts,” cried a voice among the crowd, “provide a Champion for
thy people!”
This ejaculation was loudly uttered, and served as a herald’s cry, to
introduce a remarkable personage. The crowd had rolled back, and were
now huddled together nearly at the extremity of the street, while the
soldiers had advanced no more than a third of its length. The intervening
space was empty—a paved solitude, between lofty edifices, which threw
almost a twilight shadow over it. Suddenly, there was seen the figure of
an ancient man, who seemed to have emerged from among the people, and was
walking by himself along the center of the street, to confront the armed
band. He wore the old Puritan dress, a dark cloak and a steeple-crowned
hat, in the fashion of at least fifty years before, with a heavy sword
upon his thigh, but a staff in his hand to assist the tremulous gait of
age.
When at some distance from the multitude, the old man turned slowly
round, displaying a face of antique majesty, rendered doubly venerable by
the hoary beard that descended on his breast. He made a gesture at once
of encouragement and warning, then turned again, and resumed his way.
“Who is this gray patriarch?” asked the young men of their sires.
“Who is this venerable brother?” asked the old men among themselves.
But none could make reply. The fathers of the people, those of fourscore
years and upwards, were disturbed, deeming it strange that they should
forget one of such evident authority, whom they must have known in their
early days, the associate of Winthrop, and all the old councilors,
giving laws, and making prayers, and leading them against the savage.
The elderly men ought to have remembered him, too, with locks as gray
in their youth as their own were now. And the young! How could he have
passed so utterly from their memories—that hoary sire, the relic of
long-departed times, whose awful benediction had surely been bestowed on
their uncovered heads, in childhood?
“Whence did he come? What is his purpose? Who can this old man be?”
whispered the wondering crowd.
Meanwhile, the venerable stranger, staff in hand, was pursuing his
solitary walk along the center of the street. As he drew near the
advancing soldiers, and as the roll of their drum came full upon his
ear, the old man raised himself to a loftier mien, while the decrepitude
of age seemed to fall from his shoulders, leaving him in gray but
unbroken dignity. Now, he marched onward with a warrior’s step, keeping
time to the military music. Thus the aged form advanced on one side, and
the whole parade of soldiers and magistrates on the other, till, when
scarcely twenty yards remained between, the old man grasped his staff by
the middle, and held it before him like a leader’s truncheon.
“Stand!” cried he.
The eye, the face, and attitude of command, the solemn, yet warlike
peal of that voice, fit either to rule a host in the battlefield or
be raised to God in prayer, were irresistible. At the old man’s word
and outstretched arm, the roll of the drum was hushed at once, and
the advancing line stood still. A tremulous enthusiasm seized upon
the multitude. That stately form, combining the leader and the saint,
so gray, so dimly seen, in such an ancient garb, could only belong to
some old champion of the righteous cause, whom the oppressor’s drum had
summoned from his grave. They raised a shout of awe and exultation, and
looked for the deliverance of New England.
The Governor, and the gentlemen of his party, perceiving themselves
brought to an unexpected stand, rode hastily forward, as if they would
have pressed their snorting and affrighted horses right against the hoary
apparition. He, however, blenched not a step, but glancing his severe eye
round the group, which half encompassed him, at last bent it sternly on
Sir Edmund Andros. One would have thought that the dark old man was chief
ruler there, and that the Governor and Council, with soldiers at their
back, representing the whole power and authority of the Crown, had no
alternative but obedience.
“What does this old fellow here?” cried Edward Randolph, fiercely. “On,
Sir Edmund! Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the same choice
that you give all his countrymen—to stand aside or be trampled on!”
“Nay, nay, let us show respect to the good grandsire,” said Bullivant,
laughing. “See you not, he is some old roundheaded dignitary, who hath
lain asleep these thirty years, and knows nothing of the change of
times? Doubtless, he thinks to put us down with a proclamation in Old
Noll’s name!”
“Are you mad, old man?” demanded Sir Edmund Andros, in loud and harsh
tones. “How dare you stay the march of King James’s Governor?”
“I have stayed the march of a king himself, ere now,” replied the gray
figure, with stern composure. “I am here, Sir Governor, because the
cry of an oppressed people hath disturbed me in my secret place; and
beseeching this favor earnestly of the Lord, it was vouchsafed me to
appear once again on earth, in the good old cause of his saints. And what
speak ye of James? There is no longer a tyrant on the throne of England,
and by tomorrow noon his name shall be a byword in this very street,
where ye would make it a word of terror. Back, thou that wast a Governor,
back! With this night thy power is ended—tomorrow, the prison!—back, lest
I foretell the scaffold!”
The people had been drawing nearer and nearer, and drinking in the
words of their champion, who spoke in accents long disused, like one
unaccustomed to converse, except with the dead of many years ago. But
his voice stirred their souls. They confronted the soldiers, not wholly
without arms, and ready to convert the very stones of the street into
deadly weapons. Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old man; then he cast
his hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and beheld them burning with
that lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to quench; and again he fixed
his gaze on the aged form, which stood obscurely in an open space, where
neither friend nor foe had thrust himself. What were his thoughts, he
uttered no word which might discover. But whether the oppressor were
overawed by the Gray Champion’s look, or perceived his peril in the
threatening attitude of the people, it is certain that he gave back,
and ordered his soldiers to commence a slow and guarded retreat. Before
another sunset, the Governor, and all that rode so proudly with him,
were prisoners, and long ere it was known that James had abdicated, King
William was proclaimed throughout New England.
But where was the Gray Champion? Some reported, that when the troops had
gone from King Street, and the people were thronging tumultuously in
their rear, Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was seen to embrace a form
more aged than his own. Others soberly affirmed, that while they marveled
at the venerable grandeur of his aspect, the old man had faded from their
eyes, melting slowly into the hues of twilight, till, where he stood,
there was an empty space. But all agreed that the hoary shape was gone.
The men of that generation watched for his reappearance, in sunshine and
in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when his funeral passed,
nor where his gravestone was.
And who was the Gray Champion? Perhaps his name might be found in the
records of that stern Court of Justice which passed a sentence, too
mighty for the age, but glorious in all after times, for its humbling
lesson to the monarch and its high example to the subject. I have heard,
that whenever the descendants of the Puritans are to show the spirit of
their sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years had passed, he
walked once more in King Street. Five years later, in the twilight of
an April morning, he stood on the green, beside the meeting-house, at
Lexington, where now the obelisk of granite, with a slab of slate inlaid,
commemorates the first fallen of the Revolution. And when our fathers
were toiling at the breastwork on Bunker’s Hill, all through that night
the old warrior walked his rounds. Long, long may it be, ere he comes
again! His hour is one of darkness, and adversity, and peril. But should
domestic tyranny oppress us, or the invader’s step pollute our soil,
still may the Gray Champion come, for he is the type of New England’s
hereditary spirit, and his shadowy march, on the eve of danger, must ever
be the pledge that New England’s sons will vindicate their ancestry.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Historical Note.= A tradition handed down from the time of King
Philip’s war gave Hawthorne the suggestion for this story. In the
attack made upon the village of Hadley, Massachusetts, by the
Indians in 1675 a venerable man, of stately form, and with flowing
white beard, suddenly appeared among the panic-stricken villagers,
took command, and helped them put the savages to flight. Then he
disappeared as suddenly as he had come. In their wonder, not knowing
where he had come from or where he had gone, many believed he had
been sent from Heaven to deliver them.
Their defender was William Goffe, who had been an officer in
Cromwell’s army, and a member of the court which condemned Charles
I to death. (Read the reference to this court in the story.) He was
a Puritan, a man of deep religious feeling, whose acts had been
governed by the desire to secure his countrymen their liberties.
When Charles II succeeded to the English throne, Goffe fled to New
England to escape his vengeance. Officers were sent across the ocean
in pursuit of him. For this reason he lived in hiding, his name and
identity being known only to friends who aided and protected him.
He had many narrow escapes, but was never captured. From his hiding
place he had seen the Indians stealing upon the people of Hadley and
had gone forth to battle against them. After living in exile for the
rest of his life, he died about 1679.
In this story Hawthorne altered facts to suit his purpose, making the
Gray Champion appear at the time of the Boston Insurrection, in 1689.
In this year James II, who had succeeded his brother, Charles II, was
dethroned, and fled from his kingdom, and his son-in-law, William
III, Prince of Orange, was made King of England.
The Gray Champion is made to typify the Spirit of Liberty—that spirit
which animated Goffe as a Puritan soldier under Cromwell and which
sent the Pilgrims and Puritans forth to find a home in the New World.
=Discussion.= 1. Read that part of the story which pictures the
conditions of New England under Andros. 2. What were the wrongs under
which the people suffered? 3. Did they submit willingly? 4. What
rumor gave them hope of a return of “civil and religious rights”?
5. How did this rumor affect the Governor and his councilors? 6.
Why was the Guard assembled? 7. What effect upon the people had its
appearance at this time? 8. What does Hawthorne call this scene in
the street? 9. What does he say is its “moral”? 10. Who came to have
the advantage, the Governor and his soldiers, or the people? 11. Read
all that accounts for the Champion and his sudden appearance. 12.
What great cause did he come to champion? 13. What cause were Andros
and his soldiers supporting? 14. Who was victorious? 15. Tell briefly
the main incident. 16. Give your opinion as to Hawthorne’s purpose in
writing this story.
=Phrases=
mercenary troops, 376, 14
filial love, 376, 16
allegiance merely nominal, 376, 19
civil and religious rights, 376, 24
sluggish despondency, 376, 31
severity of mien, 377, 17
apostolic dignity, 378, 6
confound the opposite faction, 378, 20
prelacy and persecution, 379, 20
leader’s truncheon, 381, 8
hoary apparition, 381, 24
half encompassed, 381, 25
roundheaded dignitary, 381, 36
lurid wrath, 382, 25
obelisk of granite, 383, 19
vindicate their ancestry, 383, 28
WARREN’S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL
JOHN PIERPONT
Stand! the ground’s your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
Hope ye mercy still?
What’s the mercy despots feel?
Hear it in that battle peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
Ask it—ye who will.
Fear ye foes who kill for hire?
Will ye to your _homes_ retire?
Look behind you! they’re afire!
And, before you, see
Who have done it!—From the vale
On they come!—and will ye quail?—
Leaden rain and iron hail
Let their welcome be!
In the God of battles trust!
Die we may—and die we must;
But, O where can dust to dust
Be consigned so well,
As where heaven its dews shall shed,
On the martyred patriot’s bed,
And the rocks shall raise their head,
Of his deeds to tell?
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Biography.= John Pierpont (1785-1866) was a Unitarian clergyman of
Connecticut and the author of several volumes of poetry.
=Historical Note.= General Joseph Warren was one of the generals in
command of the patriot army at the Battle of Bunker Hill. His death
in this battle, while a great loss to the American forces, inspired
the army to heroic efforts. He is considered one of the bravest and
most unselfish patriots of the Revolutionary War. Read what your
history text says about him.
=Discussion.= 1. In this poem we have the poet’s idea of how General
Warren inspired his men. 2. What do you think he did in reality?
3. Read the lines that are an answer to those who still hoped for
mercy from the British. 4. What lines show the striking contrast
between those who fight for hire and those who fight to protect their
homes? 5. Which of the appeals in the first and second stanzas seems
most forceful to you? 6. Where have you read of a hero who made an
argument similar to the one made in the third stanza? 7. How does
the Bunker Hill Monument fulfill the prophecy in the last lines of
the poem? 8. Notice the interesting rime-scheme and point out how it
increases the effectiveness of the poem.
=Phrases=
greener graves, 385, 3
mercy despots feel, 385, 5
battle peal, 385, 6
bristling steel, 385, 7
leaden rain, 385, 15
iron hail, 385, 15
LIBERTY OR DEATH
PATRICK HENRY
Mr. President,—No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as
well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed
the House. But different men often see the same subject in different
lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to
those gentlemen, if, entertaining, as I do, opinions of a character very
opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without
reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is
one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as
nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to
the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It
is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the
great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep
back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should
consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and of an act of
disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly
kings.
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope.
We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the
song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part
of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are
we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and
having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal
salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am
willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp
of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the
past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in
the conduct of the British Ministry for the last ten years to justify
those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves
and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has
been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your
feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves
how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike
preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and
armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown
ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in
to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the
implements of war and subjugation—the last arguments to which kings
resort. I ask, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be
not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible
motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world,
to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she
has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They
are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British
Ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them?
Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten
years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have
held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has
been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication?
What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted? Let us
not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done
everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming
on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated;
we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored
its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and
Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have
produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been
disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of
the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope
of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If
we wish to be free—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable
privileges for which we have been so long contending—if we mean not
basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long
engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the
glorious object of our contest shall be attained—we must fight! I repeat
it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all
that is left us!
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable
an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week,
or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a
British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength
by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual
resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive
phantom of hope until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?
Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the
God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed
in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we
possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us.
Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God
who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends
to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone;
it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have
no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late
to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and
slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains
of Boston! The war is inevitable—and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let
it come!
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace,
peace!—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale
that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding
arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What
is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or
peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?
Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as
for me, give me liberty or give me death!
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Historical Note.= Patrick Henry (1736-1799) delivered this speech at
the Virginia Convention, March 28, 1775. For some years this fiery
young orator had been active in Virginia in stirring up resistance to
the tyrannical acts of the King. In 1774 the royal governor in that
colony reported that every county was arming a company of men for
the purpose of protecting their committees, which had been formed,
as in the other colonies, to work out a plan of coöperation against
the British government. In March, 1775, the second revolutionary
convention of Virginia met at Richmond. A resolution was offered to
put the colony into a state of defense. Some delegates objected to
such radical action, and it is to these men that Henry addressed the
opening sentences of his speech.
The resolution was adopted. The chief command of the Virginia forces
was offered to Colonel Washington, who accepted with the words, “It
is my full intention to devote my life and fortune to the cause in
which we are engaged.”
=Discussion.= 1. From reading the first paragraph, what idea do you
get of Patrick Henry as an opponent? 2. Do you think Patrick Henry
expresses a truth for all time when he says, “In proportion to the
magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate”? 3.
Find, in your history, the chief acts of the British Ministry for
the ten years prior to 1775. 4. What are the arguments which Patrick
Henry uses to convince the delegates of the need of immediate action?
5. What did the next gale sweeping from the north bring to their
ears? 6. Notice Patrick Henry’s use of figurative language throughout
this speech. 7. Pronounce the following: siren; illusion; arduous;
solace; insidious; inestimable; formidable.
=Phrases=
of awful moment, 386, 8
illusions of hope, 387, 10
arduous struggle, 387, 13
temporal salvation, 387, 16
anguish of spirit, 387, 17
insidious smile, 387, 24
implements of war, 387, 33
martial array, 387, 34
preserve inviolate, 388, 22
inestimable privileges, 388, 22
cope with so formidable, 388, 29
supinely on our backs, 388, 35
delusive phantom, 388, 35
extenuate the matter, 389, 14
GEORGE WASHINGTON TO HIS WIFE
Philadelphia, 18 June, 1775
My Dearest:
I am now set down to write to you on a subject which fills me with
inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravated and
increased when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you.
It has been determined in Congress that the whole army raised for the
defense of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is
necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the
command of it.
You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn
manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every
endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part
with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust
too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness
in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant prospect of
finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it
has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall
hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good purpose. You
might, and I suppose did perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I
was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend
to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out
of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to
such censures as would have reflected dishonor upon myself and given pain
to my friends. This, I am sure, could not, and ought not, to be pleasing
to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall
rely, therefore, confidently on that Providence which has heretofore
preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I shall return
safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or the danger
of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you
will feel from being left alone. I therefore beg that you will summon
your whole fortitude and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing
will give me so much sincere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it
from your own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is that you would pursue
any plan that is most likely to produce content and a tolerable degree of
tranquillity; as it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear that
you are dissatisfied or complaining at what I really could not avoid.
As life is always uncertain and common prudence dictates to every man the
necessity of settling his temporal concerns while it is in his power,
and while the mind is calm and undisturbed, I have, since I came to this
place (for I had not time to do it before I left home), got Colonel
Pendleton to draft a will for me, by the directions I gave him, which
will I now enclose. The provision made for you in case of my death will,
I hope, be agreeable.
I shall add nothing more, as I have several letters to write, but to
desire that you will remember me to your friends, and to assure you that
I am with the most unfeigned regard, my dear Patsy, your affectionate,
&c.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Historical Note.= George Washington (1732-1799) came from Virginia
to attend the second meeting of the Continental Congress held in
Philadelphia May 10, 1775. He was at that time commander of the
militia of Virginia and sat in Congress in his colonel’s uniform. In
the name of “The United Colonies” the Congress voted to authorize the
enlistment of troops, to build and garrison forts, and to issue notes
to the amount of three million dollars, the original “Liberty Loan”
in America. There was an army of about ten thousand men encamped
around Boston and these Congress adopted as “The Continental Army.”
John Adams rose in his place and proposed the name of the Virginian,
George Washington, to be commander-in-chief of this New England army.
“The gentleman,” he said, “is among us and is very well known to us
all; a gentleman whose skill and experience as an officer, whose
independent fortune, great talents, and excellent universal character
would command the approbation of all America, and unite the cordial
exertions of all the colonies better than any other person in the
Union.” The pay of the commander-in-chief was fixed at five hundred
dollars a month and on June 15 Washington received the unanimous
vote for this all-important office. His lofty stature, exceeding six
feet, his grave and handsome face, his noble bearing and courtly
grace of manner all proclaimed him worthy of the honor. In a brief
speech expressive of his high sense of the honor conferred upon him,
he said, “I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in this room,
that I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, that I do not
think myself equal to the command I am honored with. As to pay, I
beg leave to assure the Congress that, as no pecuniary consideration
could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment, at the
expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any
profit of it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses. Those, I
doubt not, they will discharge; and that is all I desire.”
As there was no time for a visit to his home, Mt. Vernon, on the
Potomac River, Washington was obliged to give his wife this important
information by letter. (In 1759 Washington had married Mrs. Martha
Custis, the widow of one of the wealthiest planters in the Virginia
Colony. She had two beautiful children at the time of her marriage,
but when Washington went north to Philadelphia Mrs. Washington was
quite alone, for her son was away from home and her daughter had died
a few years before.) Later in the year Mrs. Washington went north
and spent the winter with her husband at Craigie house, the army
headquarters in Cambridge.
=Discussion.= 1. Name the fine qualities of Washington shown in this
letter. 2. Read the sentence that tells briefly what has happened. 3.
What do you imagine was Mrs. Washington’s reply to this letter?
=Phrases=
inexpressible concern, 390, 2
consciousness of a trust, 390, 13
too great for my capacity, 390, 13
distant prospect, 390, 15
perceive, from the tenor, 391, 4
exposing my character to censures, 391, 8
summon your fortitude, 391, 17
ardent desire, 391, 20
tolerable degree of tranquillity, 391, 22
prudence dictates, 391, 25
temporal concerns, 391, 26
unfeigned regard, 391, 34
GEORGE WASHINGTON TO GOVERNOR GEORGE CLINTON
Valley Forge, 16 February, 1778
Dear Sir:
It is with great reluctance I trouble you on a subject which does not
properly fall within your province; but it is a subject that occasions
me more distress than I have felt since the commencement of the war; and
which loudly demands the most zealous exertions of every person of weight
and authority, who is interested in the success of our affairs; I mean
the present dreadful situation of the army, for want of provision, and
the miserable prospects before us, with respect to futurity. It is more
alarming than you will probably conceive; for, to form a just idea of it,
it were necessary to be on the spot. For some days past, there has been
little less than a famine in camp. A part of the army has been a week
without any kind of flesh, and the rest three or four days. Naked and
starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience
and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited
by their suffering to a general mutiny and dispersion. Strong symptoms,
however, of discontent have appeared in particular instances; and nothing
but the most active efforts, everywhere, can long avert so shocking a
catastrophe.
Our present sufferings are not all. There is no foundation laid for any
adequate relief hereafter. All the magazines provided in the States
of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland, and all the
immediate additional supplies they seem capable of affording, will not be
sufficient to support the army more than a month longer, if so long. Very
little has been done at the eastward, and as little to the southward; and
whatever we have a right to expect from those quarters must necessarily
be very remote, and is, indeed, more precarious than could be wished.
When the before-mentioned supplies are exhausted, what a terrible crisis
must ensue, unless all the energy of the Continent shall be exerted to
provide a timely remedy!
I am etc.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Historical Note.= This letter was addressed to George Clinton,
governor of New York from 1777-1795. Washington appealed to Clinton
because of the abilities and resources of New York and also because
the governor’s zeal as a patriot was well known. At the same time
Washington addressed a similar letter to the inhabitants of New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, urging the
farmers to provide cattle for the use of the army. He assures them of
a bountiful price as well as the knowledge that they have rendered
most essential service to the illustrious cause of their country.
=Discussion.= 1. Read in your history text what is said about the
winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge. 2. How do the methods of
conserving food for the army in Washington’s time compare with those
of our own time? 3. How does Washington hope to avert a terrible
crisis? 4. Pronounce the following: incomparable; catastrophe;
adequate; precarious.
=Phrases=
fall within your province, 393, 2
zealous exertions, 393, 5
with respect to futurity, 393, 8
incomparable patience, 393, 14
excited to mutiny and dispersion, 393, 15
symptoms of discontent, 393, 16
avert so shocking a catastrophe, 393, 18
adequate relief hereafter, 393, 21
the magazines provided, 393, 21
crisis must ensue, 394, 7
SONG OF MARION’S MEN
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
Our band is few, but true and tried,
Our leader frank and bold;
The British soldier trembles
When Marion’s name is told.
Our fortress is the good greenwood,
Our tent the cypress-tree;
We know the forest round us,
As seamen know the sea.
We know its walls of thorny vines,
Its glades of reedy grass,
Its safe and silent islands
Within the dark morass.
Woe to the English soldiery
That little dread us near!
On them shall light at midnight
A strange and sudden fear;
When waking to their tents on fire
They grasp their arms in vain,
And they who stand to face us
Are beat to earth again;
And they who fly in terror deem
A mighty host behind,
And hear the tramp of thousands
Upon the hollow wind.
Then sweet the hour that brings release
From danger and from toil;
We talk the battle over,
And share the battle’s spoil.
The woodland rings with laugh and shout,
As if a hunt were up,
And woodland flowers are gathered
To crown the soldier’s cup.
With merry songs we mock the wind
That in the pine-top grieves,
And slumber long and sweetly,
On beds of oaken leaves.
Well knows the fair and friendly moon
The band that Marion leads—
The glitter of their rifles,
The scampering of their steeds.
’Tis life our fiery barbs to guide
Across the moonlight plains;
’Tis life to feel the night-wind
That lifts their tossing manes.
A moment in the British camp—
A moment—and away
Back to the pathless forest,
Before the peep of day.
Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs,
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers.
And lovely ladies greet our band,
With kindliest welcoming,
With smiles like those of summer,
And tears like those of spring.
For them we wear these trusty arms,
And lay them down no more
Till we have driven the Briton,
Forever, from our shore.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
For Biography, see page 41.
=Historical Note.= General Francis Marion was a general of the
Revolutionary period. He was a leader of a band of men who worried
the victorious British troops in the Carolinas in 1780 and 1781
and assisted in driving Cornwallis north, where he surrendered at
Yorktown in 1781. Marion and his men in their greenwood fortress
remind us of Robin Hood and his merry men.
=Discussion.= 1. Who is speaking in this poem? 2. What does the word
“band” tell you about these men? 3. How do seamen know their way
when on the ocean? 4. How do woodsmen know their way in the forest?
5. Read the lines that picture a southern forest. 6. What does the
second stanza tell you of Marion’s method of attack? 7. Notice in the
third stanza how the men spend their leisure time. 8. When did these
hours of release occur? 9. Why is the moon called friendly? 10. Which
lines show their quickness of movement? 11. For whom are these men
fighting?
=Phrases=
true and tried, 395, 1
our tent the cypress-tree, 395, 6
walls of thorny vines, 395, 9
glades of reedy grass, 395, 10
dark morass, 395, 12
hollow wind, 395, 24
hour that brings release, 395, 25
battle’s spoil, 395, 28
as if a hunt were up, 396, 2
fiery barbs, 396, 13
broad Santee, 396, 21
smiles like those of summer, 396, 27
TIMES THAT TRY MEN’S SOULS
THOMAS PAINE
These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the
sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his
country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man
and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this
consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the
triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; ’tis dearness
only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper
price upon its goods; it would be strange indeed, if so celestial an
article as freedom should not be highly rated. Britain, with an army
to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right, not only to
tax, but to “bind us in all cases whatsoever,” and if being bound in
that manner is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery
upon earth. Even the expression is impious, for so unlimited a power can
belong only to God.
I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret
opinion has been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a
people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish,
who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of
war, by every decent method which wisdom could invent.
I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against
the mean principles that are held by the tories: a noted one, who kept
a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child
in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after
speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with
this unfatherly expression, “Well! give me peace in my day.” Not a man
lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some
time or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said,
“If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have
peace”; and his single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken
every man to duty. Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America.
Her situation is remote from all the wrangling world, and she has nothing
to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish in himself between
temper and principle, and I am as confident, as I am that God governs the
world, that America will never be happy till she gets clear of foreign
dominion. Wars, without ceasing, will break out till that period arrives,
and the continent must in the end be conqueror; for though the flame of
liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire.
The heart that feels not now, is dead; the blood of his children will
curse his cowardice, who shrinks back at a time when a little might have
saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile in
trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by
reflection. ’Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose
heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his
principles unto death. My own line of reasoning is to myself as straight
and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treasures of the world, so far
as I believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for I
think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys
my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in
it, and to “bind me in all cases whatsoever” to his absolute will, am I
to suffer it? What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king
or a common man; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done
by an individual villain, or an army of them? If we reason to the root
of things we shall find no difference; neither can any just cause be
assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
=Historical Note.= Thomas Paine (1737-1809), an interesting figure
of the Revolutionary period, did much by his writings to help win
the war. Franklin on one occasion said, “Where liberty is, there is
my home.” Whereupon Paine answered, “Where liberty is not, there
is my home.” He came to America from England in 1774 and fought
for America’s freedom as a volunteer under Washington. After the
Revolution he went to France, where again he fought for liberty in
the French Revolution.
This selection is from a pamphlet called “The Crisis,” published in
1776 by Paine. Washington had lost the battle of Long Island and
had been compelled to retreat from New York toward Philadelphia. In
Philadelphia there were many royalists who hoped that England would
win the war. Washington’s soldiers, who had enlisted for short terms,
were encouraged to desert or to resign at the end of their terms. The
situation was serious.
Washington ordered that “The Crisis” be read before every company of
soldiers in his army.
=Discussion.= 1. Select from these paragraphs sentences that would
make good mottoes. 2. What political and military situation did Paine
have in mind in the opening sentences? 3. What do you think of the
argument of the tavern-keeper at Amboy as compared with Paine’s? 4.
What do we think today of our “remoteness from the wrangling world”?
5. What, in the last one hundred years, has brought Europe and
America closer together than they were in Paine’s day? 6. Under what
conditions does Paine think war is justified?
=Phrases=
summer soldier, 397, 1
sunshine patriot, 397, 2
celestial an article, 397, 9
expression is impious, 398, 5
unsupportedly to perish, 398, 9
calamities of war, 398, 11
single reflection, 398, 23
foreign dominion, 398, 30
pursue his principles, 399, 3
offensive war, 399, 6