I, by no means, approve of Peter's conduct, in jostling the Government,

out of the excise, on a few casks of brandy; but, in full view of all

these public and private charities, there seems to be something about it,

like the gallantry of Robin Hood, whose agrarian philosophy taught him to

rob the rich, and feed the poor. And, when the trial comes on, in the

Higher Court, about the duties upon these four hogsheads of brandy; and

Peter Baynton is summoned to testify; and, upon his evidence, Peter

Faneuil is convicted; most truly, do I believe, that some good natured

angel, will slyly draw, over the record, a corner of that broad mantle of

gold and tissue--that mantle of charity--whose warp and woof were formed

of private alms and public benefactions, and which good Peter Faneuil

spent so many of his hours, in weaving, in this lower world.

If Peter Faneuil was otherwise an offender, I am sorry for it; having a

passion for rarities, I should like to behold the _tabula immaculata_--the

unsullied sheet of one human being! I am not aware of anything, in the

life of Peter Faneuil, which that mantle will not abundantly cover.

It may be otherwise. If the schoolmaster is not always abroad, the

antiquarian is--the moral virtuoso--who delights, metaphorically speaking,

to find spots on snow, and specks in amber. This species of antiquarian,

male or female, may be found in every city and village. It is a curious

creature, and, in the cabinet of a malicious memory, has stowed carefully

away the weak points, and the peccadilloes of the living and the dead. In

its contracted receptacle, there is no room for public or private

charities, nor for merits of any kind: it is capable of holding nothing

but delinquencies.

Nothing is more refreshing to this species of antiquarian, than any fair

pretence, for opening his cabinet, and showing his precious collection.

Nollikens, among his _terra cottas_, was not more adroit, in fitting the

heads and members of Priapi to the trunks of fauns and satyrs, than is the

ingenious character, of whom I speak, in adapting the legendary gossip,

which has been told, till it is stale, of one individual, to the person of

another. Such personages are, characteristically, selfish and ungenerous.

It would not be a very notable miracle, if some person, of this

description, pained and offended, by the trying contrast, between the

munificent and charitable career of Peter Faneuil, and the extremely dry

and unprofitable character of his own existence, should ransack the

charnel-house of his memory, for some offensive offset, against Master

Lovell's laudation of Peter.

For this I can truly vouch, excepting that affair of the brandy, the

commercial correspondence of Peter Faneuil--and I have read the whole

volume, that remains, French and English--is highly honorable to the head

and the heart of the writer.

The charity of Peter Faneuil was not that clap-trap munificence, examples

of which are frequently heralded, among us, in demi-stipendiary

journals--it did not so truly _spring_--it _oozed_ from Peter's warm

heart, continually, and constitutionally. He required no impressive hints,

to be charitable--he _felt_ for the poor and needy, habitually. His letter

of Sept. 19, 1738, is before me, to one of his commercial correspondents,

to whom he has just then made a shipment, Mons. Thomas Bayeaux--"Inclosed

you have Madame Guinneau's account, by which you are indebted to that poor

widow L16, which you will do well to pay her, it being for money she

advanced, for the board of you and your family. One would have thought you

should have paid that, before you left the country, and not to have served

the poor widow as you did."

However direct, and even severe, while addressing delinquents, his French

politeness never forsakes him. Such letters always conclude--"_Sir, I

salute you_," or "_I kiss your hand_."

April 24, 1740, he writes thus to Peter Baynton--"This accompanies Capt.

Burgess Hall, who carries with him to your parts two unfortunate Palatine

women, that were some time ago shipwrecked, in their voyage from Europe to

your place, who, being objects of charity, which the providence of God has

thrown in our way, I take leave to recommend to you, as such, not doubting

you will so far commisserate their condition, as to direct them the

nearest way, to get among their friends, with such other relief as you may

think necessary."

Though Peter Faneuil had acquired property, before the death of his uncle

Andrew; yet, as we shall presently see, by far the larger part of his

"_large and plentiful estate_" came to him, by that uncle's will.

No. CXXVII.

Peter Faneuil was thirty and seven years old, when he began to reign--that

is, when his uncle, Andrew, died, Feb. 13, 1737, according to Peter, in

his letter to the Bakers, of London, or 1738, agreeably to the historical

style, adopted by the public journals. In the News Letter of February "16,

to 23," we have the following account of the funeral.--"Last Monday the

Corpse of _Andrew Faneuil_ Esquire, whose death we mentioned in our last,

was honorably interr'd here; above 1100 Persons, of all Ranks, besides the

Mourners, following the Corpse, also a vast number of Spectators were

gathered together on the Occasion, at which time the half-minute guns,

from on board several vessels, were discharged. And 'tis suppos'd that as

this Gentleman's Fortune was the greatest of any among us, so his funeral

was as generous and expensive as any that has been known here."

Peter was appointed executor sole of Andrew's will, and residuary legatee.

He appears to have proceeded with great propriety. He immediately

announced his uncle's death to foreign correspondents; and furnished

those, who had been custodiers of his property, with duly authenticated

copies of the will; and took prompt measures, for the procurement of "_the

handsomest mourning rings_."

John, Archbishop of Canterbury, as was usual then, sent his commission to

Judge Willard, from the Prerogative Court, to swear Peter, to render a

true inventory, &c.; and Peter responded to John, that, although he was

not bound so to do, by the laws of the Province, yet, for his "_own

satisfaction_," he should. Peter probably changed his mind, for no

inventory of Andrew's estate appears, among the ancient records of the

Probate Court, in Suffolk. It is not, therefore, possible, to estimate the

value of that "_large and plentiful estate_," which came to Peter, from

his uncle. That it was very considerable, for the times, there cannot be a

doubt; but the times--one hundred and fourteen years ago--were the days of

small things.

It has been observed, by an eminent man, that prayer and almsgiving are

the pathways to Paradise. Andrew Faneuil commences his will, with a

supplication, for the _perfecting of his charities_--"_I commit my soul to

God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, humbly begging the pardon of my

sins, the perfecting of my charities, and everlasting life above_." This

will was made, Sept. 12, 1734, and witnessed, by John Read, William Price

and Charles Morris; and a codicil was added, Jan. 23, 1737; and both were

proved, Feb. 15, 1737, two days after the testator's death.

Wills have ever been accounted an interesting department of _belles

lettres_; and I shall therefore furnish the reader with an abstract of

Uncle Andrew's.

_First._ He gives his warehouse in Boston, in trust, to the minister of

the French Church, in Boston, and his successors; two thirds of the income

for the minister's support, and one third to the elders, to create a fund

for repairing the warehouse; and after the creation of such fund, the

whole income to the minister; and, should the French church cease to be,

then said warehouse to revert to his heirs--"_excluding Benjamin Faneuil,

of Boston, and the heirs of his body forever_."

_Secondly._ To said French Church, three pieces of plate, of the value of

L36 sterling, "_a flaggon for the communion table, a plate for the bread,

and a bason to christen the children, with the coat of arms and name of

the donor, engraven upon each of them_." On the 27th of February, fourteen

days after his uncle's death, Peter sent a copy of the will to Claude

Fonnereau, in France, requesting him to purchase the plate, and

added--"_of the best fashion, and get engraved, agreeably to his orders,

for which end you have his coat of arms in wax herewith, and if it should

cost some small matter more, be pleased to charge the same_."

_Thirdly._ L100, in Province Bills, to be paid to the elders, for the poor

of the French Church.

_Fourthly._ L50, in Province bills, and "_a suit of mourning throughout_,"

to the French minister.

_Fifthly._ L100, in Province bills, to the overseers, for the poor of

Boston.

_Sixthly._ To the Rev. Benjamin Colman, "_a suit of mourning throughout_."

_Seventhly._ "To my loving brother, John Faneuil, of Rochelle, L100,

sterling."

_Eighthly._ "To my loving brother-in-law, Peter Cossart, of Cork, in

Ireland, and his sister Susannah Cossart, of Amsterdam, L50 each to buy

mourning."

_Ninthly._ "To Benjamin Faneuil of Boston, son of my brother, Benjamin

Faneuil, deceased, _five shillings and no more_."

_Tenthly._ To his executor, in trust, 8000 ounces of silver, or pieces of

eight, to purchase an estate of inheritance, at his discretion, within one

year after the testator's death, for his loving niece, Mary, wife of

Gillam Phillips, and the heirs of her body, remainder to her right heirs.

Peter, in correspondence with S. & W. Baker, refers to this purchase, and

directs them to sell stocks of his late uncles, to meet the drafts.

_Eleventhly_. To her son, Andrew, 500 ounces of silver, or pieces of

eight, to be put at interest, till majority--to his mother, in case of his

death before--and, in case of _her_ death and _his_ before--to her other

children.

_Twelfthly, thirteenthly, and fourteenthly._ To his nieces, Anne,

Susannah, and Marian, L2000 sterling, each; the two first to be paid six

months, after his death, and the last, at majority, or marriage; four per

cent. to be allowed her, per annum, ad interim, and she to be maintained

by the executor, till she attained full age, or married. These legacies

were paid from the funds of Uncle Andrew, in the hands of S. & W. Baker,

of London.

_Fifteenthly._ To his loving sister, Susannah F., widow of Abraham de la

Croix, of Rochelle, L1000 sterling.

_Sixteenthly._ To his servant maid, _Hendrine Boyltins_, who probably

came, with the family, from Holland, "_a suit of mourning throughout_,"

and 500 ounces of silver, in pieces of eight, or the value, in Province

bills, at her election.

_Seventeenthly._ To Henry Johnson, her son, who became the confidential

clerk of Peter Faneuil, 150 ounces, in pieces of eight, to be paid, at

majority.

_Eighteenthly._ "I give, bequeath, and devise all the rest of my estate,

both real and personal, whatsoever and wheresoever 'tis, in New England,

Great Britain, France, Holland, or any other part of the world, to my

loving nephew, PETER FANEUIL, eldest son of my late brother, Benjamin

Faneuil, to hold to him and his heirs forever."

He then appoints Peter, sole executor.

The codicil revokes the legacy to his _loving_ sister, the widow Susannah

de la Croix, of Rochelle--"my mind and my will is, that my said sister,

Susannah F., shall not have the said thousand pounds, _nor any part of

it_."

The severity of these five last words--and the phrase, in relation to his

nephew--"_excluding Benjamin Faneuil of Boston, and the heirs of his body

forever_;" and those final words of the ninth clause, by which the

testator cuts off poor Benjamin, with "_five shillings and no more_," are

sufficiently piquant. Well may such an _avunculus Hector_ commence his

last will, with a fervent supplication to "God, the Father, Son, and Holy

Ghost," for _the perfecting of his charities_.

How the widow, Susannah, came to lose her thousand pounds I do not know.

Something, that she said or did, or did not say or do, was wafted, all the

way over the water, from Rochelle, no doubt, and came to the old

gentleman's irritable ears, and roused his ire.

But I well comprehend the occasion, upon which he came to disinherit his

nephew, Benjamin Faneuil. My female readers have already arrived at the

conclusion, doubtless, that Benjamin so far forgot himself, and his duty

to his opulent, old uncle, as to fall in love without asking his

permission. Well: they are perfectly right--such was the fact. Benjamin

fell in love. He was determined not to be found, like tinkling brass, even

at the hazard of losing the good will, and the gold of his uncle

Andrew--so he fell in love. And, if the girl of his heart resembled her

daughter, _Mary Faneuil_, as she is represented by Blackburn, how the poor

fellow could have helped it, God only knows.

There is nothing, in all Amboyna, more spicy, than this little incident,

in the history of the Faneuils; and, having spoilt it, perhaps, by this

_avant courier_, I will now venture to tell the story; premising, that it

was far better told, by the lady, who related it to me, and who is a

lineal descendant of Benjamin, himself.

To give proper effect to this little episode, I must take the reader to a

pretty village, as it was just then beginning to be, one hundred and fifty

years ago, on the banks of the Hudson, some twenty miles, only, from the

city of New York. There, the persecuted Huguenots gathered together, and

planted their new home, their _New Rochelle_. Almost immediately after his

marriage with Anne Bureau, in 1699, at Narragansett, Benjamin Faneuil

rejoined his Huguenot friends, and fellow-townsmen, in _New Rochelle_; and

there his children were born. _New Rochelle_, as I have stated, was the

birth-place of PETER FANEUIL.

Andrew, having arrived in Boston from Holland, very soon after the

beginning of the eighteenth century; having buried his wife; and being

childless, selected Benjamin, the second son of his brother, Benjamin

Faneuil, as an object of particular regard. The boy, was, accordingly,

transferred from New Rochelle to Boston. He was educated, and brought up,

under his patron's eye; and was considered, by the world, as the heir

apparent of his opulent uncle. As he grew up, towards man's estate, it

would have been an unheard of circumstance, if the dowagers of Shawmut,

with their marriageable daughters, had not fixed their hopeful eyes, upon

young Benjamin, if it were only for the sake of whatever might be found,

sooner or later, in the mouth of his sack. It would have been a miracle,

if their exhibitions of regard, for the young man, had not visibly

increased; and their fears had not been frequently and feelingly

expressed, lest that excellent, old gentleman, Andrew Faneuil Esquire, had

taken cold.

A patron is rather too prone to look upon a _protege_, as a puppet. The

idea, that Benjamin could be led astray, however tempting the provocation,

to commit the crime of matrimony, however lawful and right, however

accomplished, and virtuous, and lovely the object, without leave, first

had and obtained, from him, at whose board he ate his daily bread, never

occurred to Uncle Andrew, for an instant. He supposed, of course, that he

had the key to Benjamin's soul. It never occurred to the old gentleman,

whose courtship was carried on, in Holland, that falling in love was

precisely as much of an accident, as falling into the fire, or into the

water.

Well: Benjamin was an intelligent young man; and he was admirably posted

up, upon the subject of his uncle's opinions, and prejudices.

Nevertheless, he fell in love, very emphatically; and with a girl, as

pretty, doubtless, as she was poor. He knew, that his uncle would never

consent to such a marriage. But he knew, that he had plighted his troth;

and he clearly saw, since he must run the hazard of breaking _one_ heart,

or _two_, that it would be rather more equitable to risk the old

gentleman's, instead of the girl's and his own.

Accordingly, Benjamin secretly took unto himself a lawful wife; and, for a

while, though Benjamin was, doubtless, much the happier, Uncle Andrew was

nothing the wiser. However strange it may appear, though there were no

giants, there were mischievous women, in those days. One of this category,

in an evil hour, like a toad, as she was, whispered the secret, into the

ear of Uncle Andrew.

The old Huguenot was not of the melting mood. The conduct of his nephew

produced not grief, but anger. It reached no tender spot, in the recesses

of his heart, but chafed the old man's pericardium, till it drew a blister

there. He bottled up his wrath, and corked it well; that the offender

might have the full benefit of the fermentation, when the old gentleman

came to pour the contents of the vial, on the devoted head of his

unsuspecting nephew.

The following morning, they met, at the breakfast table. The meal passed,

as usual. But with what feelings must that old man have contemplated the

poor fellow, the boy of his adoption, whom he was about to prostrate, as

he finished the last mouthful he was ever to partake at that board! The

repast was finished.--A brief colloquy ensued--"_I hear you are

married_"--"_Yes, uncle, I am_"--"_Then you will leave my house_." The

young man instantly took his departure. They never met again, until years

had passed away,--and then, in that place, where there is no work nor

device. There they lie, in the Faneuil tomb, in the Granary Ground; the

unforgiving uncle and the disinherited nephew, side by side. Benjamin

Faneuil died, at his residence in Brighton, in October, 1785, and was

buried, in the family vault.

No. CXXVIII.

Notwithstanding the "_large and plentiful estate_," which Peter Faneuil

derived from his uncle's will, it is my opinion, that his munificence, his

unbounded charities, his hospitalities, his social, genial temperament

were such, that, had he lived a much longer life, he would have died a

much poorer man. Almost immediately, upon the death of his uncle, it is

manifest, from his letters, that certain magnificent fancies came over the

spirit of his waking dreams. And it is equally certain, that,

subsequently, he had occasional misgivings, as to the just relation

between his means and his prospective arrangements, which, for the times,

and upon our little peninsula, were sufficiently expanded.

Feb. 27, 1737, fourteen days after his uncle's death, he announced that

event to his commercial friends, Messrs. S. & W. Baker of London;

prescribed the arrangement of funds, for the payment of legacies; and

instructed them to honor his draft, in favor of James Pope & Company, of

Madeira, in payment for five pipes of wine.

Four days after, on the first of March, he writes Pope & Company

thus--"Send me, by the very first opportunity, for this place, five pipes

of your very best Madeira wine, of an amber color, of the same sort, which

you sent to our good friend, De Lancey, of New York."

He directs them to draw on the Bakers of London, and adds--"As this wine

is for the use of my house, I hope you will be careful, that I have the

best. I am not over fond of the strongest. I am to inform you, that my

uncle, Mr. Andrew Faneuil, departed this life, the 13 current, and was

interred the 20, for which God prepare all his friends. I shall expect to

hear from you, by the first opportunity."

Feb. 27, 1737, the same day, on which he writes the Bakers, he addresses

Lane & Smethurst, of London, as follows--"Be so good as to send me a

handsome chariot with two sets of harness, with the arms, as enclosed, on

the same, in the handsomest manner, that you shall judge proper, but at

the same time nothing gaudy: and send me also, well recommended, two sober

men, the one, for a coachman the other a gardener; and agree with the

same, to be paid either in London, quarterly, or here, allowing for the

exchange of the money, which they shall choose. And, as most servants from

Europe, when here, are too apt to be debauched with strong drink, rum,

&c., being very plenty, I pray your particular care in this article."

On the 6th of March, he writes Gulian Verplanck, of New York--"Send me the

pipe of wine, having none good to drink." Again, March 20--"By the first

good opportunity the best pipe of wine you can purchase." On the 25th of

April, he acknowledges the receipt of the wine from Verplanck--"The wine I

hope will prove good--comes in very good time, there being none good in

town."

On the 22d of May, he writes the Bakers, for a bountiful supply of glass

and China, and for "enough of the best scarlet cloth to trim a cloak:"

and, in September of that year, for silver spoons and "silver forks with

three prongs, with my arms cut upon them: let them be made very neat and

handsome." Shortly after, he writes for several pairs of silver

candlesticks, "with my arms engraved thereon," and sends out a piece of

wax candle, as a pattern of the size.

On the 1st of January, 1738, he writes Lane & Smethurst, to send him a

pair of spectacles, "for a person of 50 years, as also, for the use of my

kitchen, the latest, best book of the several sorts of cookery, which pray

let be of the largest character, for the benefit of the maid's reading."

As Peter then was not quite thirty-eight years of age, the spectacles were

probably for "the maid," to enable her to master "the _best book_ of the

several sorts of cookery."

Dec. 20, 1738, he writes for "four stone horses." On the 18th of September

of that year, he writes Thomas Kilby--"Pray don't forget the larding pins,

wine, and sweetmeats, which I have wrote you about before." He frequently

writes to his friend Verplanck, for "Albany horses."

In a brief sketch of Brighton, published in 1850, it is stated that

Peter's "_large and heavy silver punch bowl_" is in the possession of

George Bethune, Esquire, of this city. This is an error. Peter's punch

bowl came into the possession of James Lovell, who married a

grand-daughter of Benjamin Faneuil, a sister of Mr. Bethune; and it is now

in the possession of Mr. Lovell's descendants.

Oh, if that "_large and heavy silver punch bowl_" could speak out, in good

French or English, what glorious tales it would tell of Peter, in all his

glory, enjoying, as Master Lovell says, "_that divine satisfaction, which

results from communicating happiness to others_"--around that preeminently

hospitable board, where, in the language of the writer of the obituary, in

the News Letter of March 10, 1743--

"Divites ac parvi gustarunt dulcia mensae."

Peter's punch bowl was not at all like Oliver's "_broken teacups, wisely

kept for show_." June 22, 1741, some twenty months before his death, he

writes Lane & Smethurst, to send him "_six gross of the very best London

King Henry's Cards, and six half chests of lemons, for my house winter

supply_."

Let not the reader surmise, for all this, that Peter had denied his Lord,

or was exclusively absorbed in his care for creature comforts. March 5,

1738, he writes the Bakers, to send him "four handsome, large, octavo,

Common Prayer Books, of a good letter and well bound, with one of the

same, in French, for my own use."

March 13, 1738, he writes John Depuister, to send him "six of the largest

bearskins, and two large, fine, well painted beaver coats, to use in a

slay."

It is, in no sense, discreditable to Peter Faneuil, that his

correspondence shows him to have been exceedingly partial to sweetmeats

and citron water. Nor does it lower him, in my humble esteem, that his

letters clearly indicate his temperament to have been somewhat irritable

and fiery. I have found such to be the case, almost ever, when generosity,

frankheartedness, and a noble spirit are blended together, as closely as

they were, in the character of Peter Faneuil. The converse of this

position, to be sure, it is not easy to maintain.

It is quite amusing, to contemplate, now and then, in men, whose brains

are brim full of magnificent purposes, and whose habitual dealings are

with tens and hundreds of thousands--a remarkable concentration of thought

and care, upon some one insignificant item of property, which is in

jeopardy of falling into naught. It is, doubtless, the spirit of the

woman, who lighted her candle and swept the house, and called her

neighbors together, to rejoice with her, over the recovery of that one

piece of silver.

A brief episode will exhibit this trait, in Peter's character, and show,

at the same time, that his spirit was perfectly placable. Some time before

his death, Uncle Andrew, being aware, that pulmonic affections were

benefited, by the air of the tropics, consigned a broken-winded horse to

Mr. Joseph Ward, of Barbadoes, for sale. No account having been rendered,

the fate of the old horse appears to have become a subject of exciting

interest, with the residuary legatee. Before he writes to Ward, he

addresses three letters of inquiry, in other directions. He then opens

upon Mr. Joseph Ward, Jan. 12, 1738. I give the entire letter, as

illustrative of Peter's character--"I have been very much surprised, that,

ever since the death of Captain Allen, you have not advised me of the sale

of a horse, belonging to my deceased uncle, left in your hands by him,

which I am informed you sold for a very good price, and I am now to

request the favor you would send me the net proceeds, with a fair and just

account for the same, in sweetmeats and citron water; your compliance with

which will stop me from giving some of my friends the trouble of calling

you to an account there. I shall be glad to know, if Captain Allen did not

leave a silver watch and some fish, belonging to a servant of mine, with

some person of your island, and with who. I expect your speedy answer."

Mr. Ward appears to have responded, more calmly, than tropical gentlemen

commonly do, when accosted in this piquant style. He sent his account, and

Peter was manifestly mollified, by a box of sweetmeats. Mr. Ward,

however, complained of Peter's want of grace. March 24, 1738, Peter wrote

to Mr. Ward--"Yours of 7 February, with the account sales of a horse, left

by Captain Allen, accompanying a box sweetmeats I received, in which I

observe you refer to my former, which you are pleased to look upon as in

too unhandsome a stile. I must own it was not in so soft terms, as I

sometimes make use of; but, at that time, I really thought the state of

the case required it, not having heard anything to be depended upon,

concerning the horse in dispute, either if he was dead, sold, or run away;

upon either of which, I presumed the common complaisance, if not honor,

among merchants, might have entitled either my uncle, in his lifetime, or

myself, after his decease, to some advice at least. I had indeed

transiently heard here you had kept him, for your own use, but had

undervalued him, which, in some measure prest my writing you on that head,

&c. I thank you for your speedy answer, and am, with return of your own

compliment, as much as you are mine," &c.

March 6, 1737.--Peter informs M. Isaac Beauchamp, that, he, Peter, has

been empowered, by his Excellency, M. Brouillan, Governor of Cape Breton,

to call him to account and says--"I am now to let you know, that out of

honor and of the regards I have ever had to that gentleman, I am obliged

to see some honorable issue made to that affair, for which reason I shall

be glad you will advise me, after what manner you propose to satisfye the

gentleman or me, without forcing violente means." This affair was

occasioned, by a dispute, about tobacco, and ended in smoke.

One brief illustration more. April 6, 1738, he complains to Captain

Greenou of certain ill usage and says--"You may see what handsome parcell

of protested bills I must pay. If this be the honor of you Ragon men, God

deliver me from them, for the future. I would not take their word for a

groat &c. These pretended gentlemen think I will tamely sit down by their

unhandsome usage, but they will find themselves very much mistaken," &c.

Many years ago, while standing by the artist, as he was working up, from

the old portrait, belonging to the Historical Society, the lineaments of

Peter, as he is represented, in Faneuil Hall, we agreed, that his

temperament must have been choleric. He had that conformation of body,

which hints of apoplexy. John, his uncle, the Rocheller, died of that

disease; and Peter, as Master Lovell inform us, died _suddenly_. He

belonged not to any total abstinence society. And though there is no

evidence, nor the slightest suspicion, that he fell below that standard of

gentlemanly temperance, which was in vogue, among those, who were given to

hospitality, in our peninsula, one hundred years ago--yet I have not any

reasonable doubt, that Peter would have lived longer, had it been the

pleasure of his uncle Andrew to have disinherited _him_, instead of _his

brother Benjamin_.

No. CXXIX.

Peter Faneuil was an affectionate brother. I have it from the lips of

Benjamin's lineal descendants, who have preserved the tradition, that,

after he had sacrificed his hopes of the inheritance, not for a mess of

pottage, but for a lovely wife; and Peter had been called from New

Rochelle, to supply his place, as the heir apparent; uncle Andrew,

probably, without exacting an absolute promise, enjoined it upon Peter, to

abstain from assisting Benjamin; to which injunction Peter paid no

practical regard whatever; but, like a Christian brother, remembered, that

old Benjamin Faneuil and Anne Bureau had been the father and the mother of

them both. The commercial correspondence shows, that Peter gave Benjamin

his confidence and affection. The relation between them plainly

demonstrates, that there was no deficiency of kind and generous offices.

The ease and intimacy of their friendship will be perceived, by the

following note, which I copy literally from the original, in my

possession. There was a difference of eighteen months only, in their ages.

In this note, which was written, after Benjamin's return from Europe,

Peter addresses him, by a cant name. "Boston the 18 August, 1741. Dear

Cockey: The Occasion of my not Sending my Chase for you was on Account of

Mr. Shirley's receiving of his Majties Commission Last Thursday appointing

him Govr of this Province wh. was read the Next day, upon which Occasion

he ask't me to Loane of my Charrot wh. I granted him till Last Night, so

that I presume will plede my xcuse. I now Send you up the Chase, to bring

you home, and have deliver'd ye Coachman Some Boild Beef, a dozen of

brown biskett 6 bottles of Madera and 2 of Frontinan with a dozen of

Lemmons. Your relations and friends are all well, and desire their Love

and service may be made acceptable to you. Pray my Compliments to the

Gentn and Ladys with you--and give me Leave to assure you that I am, Dear

Cockey, Your Affectionate Brother, Peter Faneuil."

The superscription of this note is torn off, but to Benjamin alone can it

apply. Mr. Jones was not married, till after Peter's death. His relation

to Phillips was rather formal; and still more so with Boutineau; and he

never would have thought of calling his brother Addington Davenport, the

Rector of Trinity, his _dear cockey_. His letters also record the

evidences of his kindness to his sisters, and his attention to their most

trifling wishes. Nov. 24, 1736, he writes Lynch and Blake--"My youngest

sister desires, that you wont forget to send her the Canary birds, which

you promised her, when you was here." May 16, 1736, he writes Lane and

Smethurst of London--"My sisters have received their things, in good order

and to their liking, except the stockings: for the Hosier put up white

worsted, instead of thread, although the patern was sent. I have sent them

back to you to be changed, in the ship Union, John Homans, master. Be

pleased to send them, by the first opportunity: viz, for Mrs. Anne

Faneuil, 3 pairs thread hose, with worsted clogs, and a pair of

Galoushoes. Mrs. Susannah Faneuil, 2 pairs thread ditto. Mrs. Mary Anne

Faneuil, 4 pairs thread stockings, and 3 pairs clogs." It is of small

moment, at this late day, whether these ladies wore thread or worsted

stockings, one hundred and fourteen years ago; but this ancient example of

brotherly regard may not be altogether lost, upon the race of brothers,

that has sprung up, during the present century. It is remarkable, that

Peter, though he applies the title, _Mrs._ to each of his sisters, gives

them the maiden name. The two, first named, were then the wives of

Addington Davenport and James Boutineau; the last, Mary Ann, afterwards

the wife of John Jones, was then single.

At that early day, the moral sense of the people of the North appears to

have been thoroughly asleep, on the subject of slavery. The reverend

clergy were no exception from the general rule. After the decease of

Parson Moorhead, in 1774, a slave was sold, among his effects, "at his

late residence, near _Liberty Tree_." Jonny Moorhead was a cotemporary of

Peter Faneuil, having assumed the charge of the Presbyterian Church, as it

then was, in 1730. The reader will not be startled, therefore, when he

comes to be informed, as, in good time he will be, at how many pounds, old

tenor, each of Peter Faneuil's five slaves were appraised, after his

decease. Slavery was not uncommon then, in the Province of Massachusetts

Bay. Douglass, in his Summary, vol. i. page 351, states, that in 1735,

about seven years before Peter's death, the whole number of whites, of 16

years and upwards, in the Province, was 35,427; and of negroes, 2600.

Feb. 3, 1738. Peter Faneuil writes thus, to Peter Buckley--"Herewith you

have invoice of six hogsheads fish and eight barrells of alewives,

amounting to L75.9.2, which, when you arrive at Antigua, be pleased to

sell, for my best advantage, and, with the nett produce of the same,

purchase, for me, for the use of my house, as likely a strait negro lad as

possibly you can, about the age of from 12 to 15 years; and, if to be

done, one that has had the small-pox, who being for my own service, I must

request the favor, you would let him be one of as tractable a disposition

as you can find, which I leave to your prudent care and management,

desiring, after you have purchased him, you would send him to me, by the

first good opportunity, recommending him to a particular care, from the

captain." I have no doubt, that Peter was a kind, considerate master; and,

though I have an unconquerable aversion to being the slave of anybody, I

had rather have been Peter's _born thrall_ than his _uncle Andrew_. What a

glorious kitchen Peter's must have been!

My female readers will scarcely find it in their eyelids to be weary, or

in their hearts to blame me, for giving them one or two passages more,

from Peter Faneuil's letters; when they are told, that those passages

relate to a love affair, in which Peter, though not a principal, performed

an important part.

The Faneuils and the Jekylls were intimate--so much so, at least, as to

bring the Jekylls within the circle of those, who, upon Uncle Andrew's

death, were accounted the legitimate recipients of mourning rings. In a

letter to Mr. Joseph Jekyll, of Jan. 22, 1738, Peter alludes to Miss

Jekyll's extraordinary conduct; and, most happily and truthfully, remarks,

that "_there is no accounting for the sex, in affairs of love_." On the

same day, he writes Mr. Richard Blacket Jekyll--"Doubtless, you'll be

surprised to find, that, by this opportunity, only your sister, Mrs.

Hannah, of the family, who I hope will arrive safe to you, has the

pleasure of seeing you, and her other brothers, in England. I am sorry

Mrs. Mary does not consult her own interest, so much, as I could wish,

whose conduct I should say nothing of, were it not out of regard to the

family in general. It is now only one month past, since she suffered

herself to be published to one Mr. Linnington, of St. Christophers,

formerly known here, by the name of My Lord Linnington, or My Lord, whose

character, if you remember the man, I need not trouble you with a

description of it; but, if you do not, I can only say, that he is a

worthless pretender to a great deal of money and wit, without, according

to the best account I can learn, any of either: with whom she would,

inevitably have been married, had not some other friends joined forces

with me, and interposed."

"Inclosed I send you my letter to her, on that head, and her answer, for

your more private satisfaction. That affair being tolerably well over, and

Captain Homan's state-room hired for the two young ladies, and their maid,

I had supplied them, according to your desire, with what money they might

have occasion for, to fit them out for the voyage, and paid the captain,

for their laying in, and tomorrow being the appointed time to go aboard, I

was, in the morning, advised Mrs. Mary had changed her mind, on account of

some new proposals of matrimony, made her, by Col. Saltonstall of

Haverhill, which sudden alteration I find to be, on examination, from a

visit or two, within these two or three days last past, at farthest, but,

however, concluded upon and determined, so that she does not come to you,"

&c., &c.

Peter proceeds to comment, with great discretion, upon the absence of any

reasonable interval, for the heart of Miss Mary Jekyll to recover its due

tone and tension, after its first expansion towards _My Lord Linnington_,

and before the second spasm. But, truly, in the language of the anatomist,

the heart is a "wonderful muscle."

I had surmised a relation of consanguinity between Peter Faneuil and the

late Peter Chardon Brooks, from the fact, that, on the 29th of March,

1737, Peter Faneuil writes to the executors of Isaac Chardon, in South

Carolina, whom he calls his cousin; and, in that letter, speaks of his

cousin, _Peter Chardon_. But, from the best authority, I have learned,

that the name of Peter Chardon was bestowed, by the Rev. Edward Brooks,

formerly of North Yarmouth, and more recently of Medford, upon his son,

_causa amicitiae_; the Rev. Mr. Brooks and Peter Chardon, having been

classmates, of the year 1757. It was, probably, the father of this Peter

Chardon, whom Peter Faneuil calls his cousin, in 1737, and the same Peter

Chardon, who is named, on the record, as one of the appraisers of Peter

Faneuil's estate, in 1742-3. The name is rare; it occurs once only, on the

Cambridge Catalogue; and, from its rarity, it may not be unreasonable, to

look for the _stirps_, on the pages of Charlevoix, iii. 392, who speaks of

_Peter Chardon_, the Jesuit, a missionary, among the Indians, bordering

upon Lake Michigan, at the very close of the seventeenth century. _Our_

Peter Chardon, the cousin of Faneuil, resided in Bowdoin Square, near the

street, that bears his name.

After the death of his uncle Andrew, Peter Faneuil, by the power of

wealth, in addition to his other qualities, intelligence, industry, and

courtesy, necessarily became an influential character; and the use, which

he immediately began to make of his wealth, his public spirit, his private

benevolence, all conspired to make him an object of very general interest.

His hospitalities were unbounded. He associated himself with the Episcopal

Church. He subscribed L2000 old tenor, L200 sterling for the rebuilding of

King's Chapel, in 1740, and was chosen treasurer of the building fund. His

death, in 1742-3, put a stop to the project. No money had ever been

collected, for that object. In 1747, the project was revived. New

subscriptions were solicited, and the old ones demanded, "_at the end of

this year 1748_." Peter Faneuil died March 3, 1742-3, and had therefore

been dead, between five and six years. "For the subscription of Peter

Faneuil," says Mr. Greenwood, in his history of the Chapel, "they were

unfortunately obliged to sue his brother, and executor, Benjamin Faneuil,

from whom, after a disagreeable lawsuit, they at last recovered it." Mr.

Greenwood erred, in the supposition, that Peter left a will. He died

intestate, and administration was granted to Benjamin, March 18, 1742, old

style. The estate, of course, had been settled, doubtless, some years

before the demand on the administrator, "_at the end of 1748_." Having

other heirs to consult, he very properly resisted this tardy and

unexpected claim; and cast the responsibility upon the court.

For several years, Peter Faneuil worshipped in Trinity Church, of which

his brother-in-law, Addington Davenport, became rector, in 1740. Peter's

pew, in Old Trinity, was No. 40. He was an active and liberal member of

the Episcopal Charitable Society. "Mr. Faneuil," says the late Dr. Boyle,

"was one of the earliest members of the society. He was a liberal

subscriber to its funds, and acted, as a trustee of the institution."

Peter Faneuil's heart was proverbially warm, and sensitive to the

necessities and distresses of his _neighbor_; and he seems to have

cherished the true scriptural construction of that _ubiquitary_ word. The

accession of wealth, upon his uncle's death, hardened not his heart, but

gave it a deeper, fuller, and stronger pulse, upon every call of charity.

To him, as to other men, who admit their motives to be human, upon common

occasions, the applause of the _wise_ and _good_ was exceedingly

agreeable. Whatever the prominency of higher and holier considerations, he

turned a willing and a grateful ear to the approbation of the judicious

and upright. Not contented with the opportunities of doing good, on a

small scale, which were, doubtless, frequently presented, before a man,

whose wealth and warmheartedness were equally notorious; he coveted some

fair occasion, for pouring forth of his abundance, in a more magnificent

manner--pleased--naturally and justifiably pleased--with the thought, that

his name and his memory would be associated with the deed, in after times.

No. CXXX.

One may, as successfully, search for that identical peck of pickled

peppers, that Peter Piper picked, as for the original Hall, that Peter

Faneuil built. Like Rachel's first born, _it is not_. After all the

reparations, and changes, and hard hammerings she has undergone, we may as

well search, within the walls of Old Ironsides, for those very ribs of

live oak, which, some fifty years ago, were launched, in the body of the

frigate Constitution.

In the olden time, the market men, like the mourners, went "about the

streets." The inhabitants were served, at their doors. As early as 1634,

Gov. Winthrop, in his journal, speaks of a market, which was kept in

Boston, "on Thursday, the fifth day of the week." This weekly market on

the fifth day is mentioned, by Douglass, as of 1639, vol. i. p. 434. This,

I think, refers only to a gathering of sellers and buyers, at one spot,

and not to any "visible temple," for storage and shelter. Citizens

differed, as to the best method of getting their _provant_; some preferred

the old mode, as it was supposed to save time; others were in favor of

having a common point, with a covered building. Parties were formed; the

citizens waxed wroth; and quarrelled about their meat, like angry dogs.

Those, who were in favor of market-houses, prevailed. Three were erected;

one, at the Old North Square--one, where Faneuil Hall now stands--and one,

near Liberty Tree. People were no longer supplied, at their houses.

It seems very strange, that this sensible arrangement should have led to

violent outrage. The malcontents assembled together, in the night,

"disguised like clergymen"--the devil, sometimes assumes this

exterior--and "totally demolished the centre market-house." This occurred,

about the year 1736-7, or about the time of Andrew Faneuil's death. Such

is the account of good old Thomas Pemberton. M. H. C. iii. 255.

The popular sentiment prevented the reconstruction of the centre

market-house, till, in 1740, July 14, a town meeting was held to consider

a petition, for this object, from Thomas Palmer and 340 others. At this

meeting, it was stated, that Peter Faneuil had offered, at his own cost,

to build a market-house, on the town's land, in Dock Square, for the use

of the town, if the citizens, would legally empower him so to do; place

the same under proper regulations; and maintain it, for that use.

An impression has, somewhat extensively, prevailed, that Mr. Faneuil's

proposal was not courteously received, by his fellow-citizens, and that a

majority of seven only were in favor of it.

On the contrary, Mr. Faneuil's proposal was received, with the most ample

demonstrations of grateful respect. There were two questions before the

meeting--first: shall a vote of thanks be passed to Peter Faneuil, for his

liberal offer? Secondly: shall we give up the itinerant system, and have a

market-house, on _any_ conditions? Upon the first question, there was but

_one_ mind--on the second, there were _two_. A vote of thanks to Mr.

Faneuil was instantly passed, without a dissentient. But the second

question was the vexed question, revived, and excited the passions of the

people. Of 727 persons present, 367 only voted in favor of granting the

petition of Palmer and others, giving a majority of seven only.

Accordingly, the work was commenced; and it was completed, Sept. 10, 1742,

"on which day," says Dr. Snow, "Mr. Samuel Ruggles, who was employed, in

building the market house, waited on the selectmen, by order of P.

Faneuil, Esq., and delivered them the key of said house."

Peter was a magnificent fellow. An antiquarian friend, to whom the fancy

has lineally descended, through a line of highly respectable, antiquarian

ancestors, informs me, that his father handed down to him a tradition,

which is certainly plausible. It runs thus: while the market-house was in

progress--probably on paper--it was suggested to Peter, that, with very

little additional expense, a splendid town hall might be constructed over

it. Peter's heart was quite as _roomy_ as the market-house, and town hall

together, and he cheerfully embraced the suggestion. The tradition goes a

little farther--when the cost was summed up, Peter scolded--a little. Very

likely. Mr. Peter Faneuil was not an exception, I presume, to the common

rule.

The keys, as I have stated, were presented to the town, Sept. 10, 1742,

with all that courtesy, doubtless, for which he was remarkable. Peter's

relatives and connections are somewhat numerous. The descendants of

Benjamin his brother are scattered over the country. It will be equally

grateful to them, and honorable to our forefathers, to exhibit a portion

of the record.

Sept. 13, 1742, at a meeting, in the new hall, a vote of thanks was moved,

by the Hon. John Jeffries, uncle of the late Dr. John Jeffries. In this

vote, it is stated, that, whereas Peter Faneuil has, "at a very great

expense, erected a noble structure, far exceeding his first proposal,

inasmuch, as it contains, not only a large and sufficient accommodation

for a market place, but a spacious and most beautiful town hall over it,

and several other convenient rooms, which may prove very beneficial to the

town, for offices or otherwise. And the said building being now finished,

he has delivered possession thereof to the selectmen for the use of the

town; it is therefore voted, that the town do, with the utmost gratitude,

receive and accept this most generous and noble benefaction, for the use

and intentions it is designed for; and do appoint the Hon. Thomas Cushing

Esquire, the moderator of this meeting, the Hon. Adam Winthrop, Edward

Hutchinson, Ezekiel Lewis, and Samuel Waldo, Esquires, Thomas Hutchinson,

Esq. the selectmen and representatives of the town of Boston, the Hon.

Jacob Wendell, James Bowdoin, Esq., Andrew Oliver, Esq., Captain Nathaniel

Cunningham, Peter Chardon, Esq., and Mr. Charles Apthorp, to wait upon

Peter Faneuil, Esq., and in the name of the town, to render him their most

hearty thanks, for so bountiful a gift, with their prayers, that this and

other expressions of his bounty and charity may be abundantly recompensed

with the divine blessing."

In addition to this vote, the citizens passed another, that the hall

should be called Faneuil Hall, forever; and that the portrait of Faneuil

should be painted, at full length, and placed therein. On the 14th of

March, 1744, a vote was passed "to purchase the Faneuil arms, carved and

gilt, by Moses Deshon, to be fixed in the hall."

Pemberton says--"Previous to the Revolution, the portraits of Mr. Faneuil,

General Conway, and Colonel Barre were procured by the town, and hung up

in the hall. It is supposed they were carried off by the British." The

portrait of Faneuil at present, in the hall, was painted by Henry Sargent,

from the portrait, presented to the Massachusetts Historical Society, by

Miss Jones, a grandchild of Peter's sister, Mary Ann.

The original building was but half the width of the present, and but two

stories high. The hall could contain but 1000 persons. In the memorable

fire of Tuesday, Jan. 13, 1761, Faneuil Hall was destroyed, and nothing

left standing but the walls. On the 23d of the following March, the town

voted to rebuild, and the State authorized a lottery, to meet the expense.

There were several classes. A ticket, of the seventh class, lies before

me, bearing date March, 1767, with the spacious autograph of John Hancock,

at the bottom.

The building retained its primitive proportions, till 1806, when, the

occasions of the public requiring its enlargement, its width was

increased, from 40 to 80 feet, and a third story added. A very simple rule

may be furnished, for those, who would compare the size of the present

building, with that of the genuine Peter Faneuil Hall. Take a northeast

view of the Hall--there are seven windows before you, in each story--run a

perpendicular line, from the ground, through the centre of the middle

window to the top of the belt, at the bottom of the third story--carry a

straight line from that point nearly to the top of the second window, on

the right, in the third story. That point is the apex of the old pediment.

From that point, draw the corresponding roof line down to the belt, at the

corner; and you have a profile of the ancient structure; all which is well

exhibited by Dr. Snow, on the plan, in his History of Boston.

Small as the original structure may appear, when compared with the

present, it was a magnificent donation, for the times. It may well be

considered a munificent gift, from a single individual, in 1742, when we

consider, that its repairs, in 1761, were accomplished, by the aid of the

Commonwealth, and the creation of a lottery, which continued to curse the

community, for several years.

Peter Faneuil was then in all his glory. How readily, by the power of

Imagination, I raise him from the dead, bolt upright; with his over portly

form, and features full of _bon homie_; speaking volumes, about those five

pipes of amber-colored Madeira, such as his friend Delancey had; and that

best book of all sorts of cookery, of a large character, for the maid's

reading! There he is, at the door of his English chariot, "handsome, but

nothing gaudy," with his arms thereon, and his English coachman, and his

English horses, and that "strait negro lad" perched behind. I see him now,

helping in Miss Mary Anne, his youngest maiden sister; and, as he ascends

the steps, wrapping his cloak around him, trimmed with that identical

"_scarlet cloth of the very best quality_."

The vanity of man's anticipations, the occasional suddenness of his

summons away--seldom find a more graphic illustration, than in the case of

this noble hearted, and most hospitable gentleman. When he received the

grateful salutations of the magnates of the town, who came to thank him,

for his munificence, what could have been so little in his thoughts, or in

theirs, as the idea, that he was so soon to die!

In about five years--five, short, luxurious years--after the death of

Andrew Faneuil, Peter, his favorite nephew, was committed to the ground,

March 10, 1742, old style. The event, from its suddenness, and from the

amiable and benevolent character of the individual, produced a deep

sensation, in the _village_, for Boston was nothing but a seashore village

then. In 1728, some fourteen years before, we learn from Douglass, i. 531,

that there were but 3000 rateable polls, on the peninsula. This event was

unexpected, by the living, and had been equally unexpected, by the dead.

Death came to Peter, like a thief in the stilly night. He had not looked

for this unwelcome visitor. He had made no will. By this event, Benjamin

came into possession; and old Andrew is supposed to have turned over,

indignantly, in his coffin.

No. CXXXI.

To such of my readers, as the Lord has abundantly blessed, in their basket

and their store, and who have loaned him very little, on his simple

promise, to be repaid, in Paradise; and who are, peradventure, at this

very moment, excogitating revengeful wills; the issue of uncle Andrew's

vindictive, posthumous arrangements may prove a profitable lesson, for

their learning. Verily, God's ways are not as our ways, nor God's will as

Uncle Andrew's.

It may be remembered, that, in the devise of his warehouse, in trust, for

the benefit of the French Church, Andrew Faneuil provided, that, in the

event of the extinction of that church, the estate should revert to his

_right heirs--excluding Benjamin Faneuil, of Boston, and the heirs of his

body forever_, whom he cuts off, as the popular phrase runs, with "_five

shillings, and no more_." In passing along, it may not be amiss to notice

this popular error. The law has, at no time, required the bequest of a

farthing, to one, near of kin, whom the testator intends to cut off. It is

enough, if it be manifest, that the testator has _not forgotten him_; and,

to leave no possible doubt upon the subject, a churlish curmudgeon, as in

the present case, will transmit, in this offensive manner, the record of

his vindictiveness and folly, to future generations.

When Andrew Faneuil makes Peter his residuary legatee, there is no

provision, for the exclusion of Benjamin, in the event of Peter's death,

without heirs of his body. Prepared, as this amiable, old gentleman was,

to believe, in the possible extinction of the French Church, he seems to

have looked upon Peter, an inveterate old bachelor, as immortal. Yet, in

regard to Peter, the issue hung, by a single hair. There was no child,

with the cup in his hand, to catch the ball, and prevent it from lapsing

directly into Benjamin's sack, who, with his sisters, stood close at hand,

the next of kin to Peter, and heirs at law.

Well: as I have said, God's will was not as Uncle Andrew's. After a few

flying years, during which Peter executed the intentions of the testator,

with remarkable fidelity; and lived, as magnificently, as a nobleman, and

as hospitably, as a bishop, and, as charitably, as an apostle--suddenly,

the silver cord was loosed, and the golden bowl was broken, and Peter

dropped into the grave. The title of Benjamin and his sisters to all

Peter's estate, and to all Andrew's estate, that remained, as the heirs at

law of Peter, passed into them, through the atmosphere, at once; and

Andrew's will, by the act of God, was set aside, in the _upper_ Court.

Administration was granted to Benjamin, March 18, 1742, O. S., who

returned an inventory, April 21, 1744. The appraisers of the estate were

William Price, Joseph Dowse, and Peter Chardon; and the sum total of their

valuation was L44,451.15.7. This, certainly, will incline the reader to

Master Lovell's idea, of "_a large and plentiful estate_," until I add

those words of withering import--_Old Tenor_. Sterling decimates old tenor

with a vengeance--_ten_ pounds, old tenor, were but _one_ pound, sterling.

The valuation, therefore, amounted to about L4,445 sterling, or, in

dollars, at five to the pound, to $22,225. It may seem rather surprising,

that the balance, which fell to Peter, from his uncle, under the will, and

his own accumulations, should amount to no more. But a few reflections may

tend to moderate our surprise.

The estate of his uncle had been seriously diminished, by the payment of

legacies, L2,000 stg. to each of his three nieces, $30,000--more than

$8,000 to his niece, Marie Phillips; and about $2,000, in smaller

legacies, raising the amount of legacies to $40,000. He had also given his

warehouse, in King Street, to the French Church. These legacies Peter had

paid. He had also built and presented the Market-house and the Hall to the

town. But there is another important consideration. Funds still remained,

in other countries, part and parcel of Andrew's property. This is evident,

from an original document before me, the marriage settlement of Peter's

sister, Mary Anne with John Jones, bearing date March 15, 1742, the very

month of Peter's death. This document recites, that one part of her

estate, as one of the heirs of Peter Faneuil, "_is in Public Funds, such

as the Bank of England_." As this does not figure in Benjamin's inventory

here, it is impossible to say what was the amount of foreign funds, which

Peter owned, at the time of his death. For some five years, while he had

been living, in a style of unbounded hospitality, he had also enjoyed the

luxury of doing good, and paid, most liberally, for that enjoyment. From

his commercial correspondence, I infer, that his enterprise suffered no

material abatement, after his uncle's decease.

I cannot doubt, that his free expenditure of money, for his personal

enjoyment, the gratification of his pride, and the pleasure of ministering

to the wants of the poor and needy, had lessened, and was lessening, from

month to month, the amount of his estate. There is yet another

consideration, which belongs to this account, the great disparity, between

the value of money, then, and at the present day.

The items, or particular heads, of the inventory, are one hundred and

fifty-eight; and cover near four folio pages of the record. Some of them

may not be wholly uninteresting to the reader. The mansion-house, the

same, as I have stated, in which Lieutenant Governor Billy Phillips lived

and died, and Isaiah Doane before him, the extensive garden, outhouses and

yard were appraised, one hundred and eight years ago, at L12,375, or

L1,237 stg., about $6,185, at five dollars to the pound. Fourteen hundred

ounces of plate, at L2,122 10. This plate was divided into five parts, for

the brother, and four sisters of the deceased. A memorandum lies upon my

table, labelled, in the original hand of Gillam Phillips--"An account of

my proportion of plate, belonging to the estate of Peter Faneuil, Esq.,

deceased." This document contains a list of "_Gillam Phillips' Lot_," and

side by side--"_a coffee pot_--_a large, handsome chamber pot_." They made

a free use of the precious metals, in those days.

A parcel of jewels are appraised, at L1,490--1 white horse, L15--2 Albany

horses, L100--2 English horses, L250--2 other English horses, L300--4 old

and 4 new harnesses, L120--2 pairs runners, L15--1 four-wheel chaise,

L150--1 two-wheel chaise, L50--a coach, L100--1 chariot, L400--5 negroes,

L150--130--120--120--100. Then follows a variety of articles--fowling

pieces--fishing tackle--silver-hilted sword--pistols--china, glass,

hangings, carpets, and culinary articles, in profusion--lignum vitae coffee

cups, lined with silver--silver snuff-boxes--gold sleeve-buttons and

rings--195 dozen of wine--arrack--beer--Cheshire and Gloucester cheeses.

Indeed, Peter's establishment appears to have been a variorum edition of

all manner of elegancies, luxuries, and creature comforts. The inventory

comprehends eight tenements, in Cornhill, and King Street; a number of

vessels, and parts of vessels; and various other items of property.

The remains of this noble-spirited descendant of the Huguenots of Rochelle

were deposited, in the Faneuil tomb, in the westerly corner of the Granary

Ground. This tomb is of dark freestone, with a freestone slab. Upon the

easterly end of the tomb, there is a tablet of slate, upon which are

sculptured, with manifest care and skill, the family arms; while, upon the

freestone slab, are inscribed, at the top, M. M.--_memento mori_, of

course,--and, at the bottom of the slab--a cruel apology for the old

Huguenot patronymic--"PETER FUNEL. 1742," and nothing more.

The explanation, which arises, in my mind, of this striking inconsistency,

is this: I believe this tomb, whose aspect is simple, solid, and antique,

to have been built by Andrew Faneuil, who was a wealthy merchant here as

early as 1709: and I think it is quite certain, that the lady, whom he

married, in Holland, and whose beauty is traditional, among her

descendants, made the great exchange--beauty for ashes--in this very

sepulchre. In this tomb, Andrew was buried, by Peter, Feb. 20, 1737, and

Peter, by his brother, Benjamin, March 10, 1742, old style, and here

Benjamin himself, was laid, after an interval of two-and-forty years,

where there is neither work, nor device, nor will, nor codicil.

The arms of Peter Faneuil--I have them before me, at this moment, on his

massive, silver pepper-pot--he found a place for them, on many of his

possessions, though I cannot say, if on all the articles which came into

the possession of Gillam Phillips,--were a field argent--no chevron--a

large heart, truly a suitable emblem, in the centre, gules--seven stars

equidistant from each other, and from the margin of the escutcheon,

extending from the sinister chief to the dexter base--in the sinister base

a cross molin, within an annulet--no scroll--no supporters; crest, a

martlet.

The arms upon the tomb, though generally like these, and like the arms, on

other articles, once Peter's, and still extant, differ in some important

particulars; and seem to have been quartered with those of another family,

as the arms of Andrew, being a collateral, might have been. A helmet,

beneath the martlet, especially, is wholly different from Peter's crest.

Such precisely are the arms, on the seal of wax, upon Andrew's will, in

the Registry. Hence I infer, that Uncle Andrew built this ancient

sepulchre. Arms, in days of old, and still, where a titled nobility

exists, are deemed, for the popular eye, sufficient evidence of ownership,

without a name. So thought Uncle Andrew; and he left the freestone tablet,

without any inscription.

Some five years after the testator's burial, the tomb was again opened, to

let in the residuary legatee. Peter's was a grand funeral. The Evening

Post, of March 3, 1742-3, foretold, that it would be such; but the papers,

which, doubtless, gave an account of it, are lost--the files are

imperfect, of all those primitive journals. At first, and for years, the

resting place of Peter's remains was well enough known. But the rust of

time began to gather upon men's memories. The Faneuil arms, ere long,

became unintelligible, to such, as strolled among the tombs. That

"_handsome chariot, but nothing gaudy_," with Peter's armorial bearings

upon its panels, no longer rolled along Treamount, and Queen Streets, and

Cornhill, and drew up, of a Sabbath morning, before Trinity Church, that

brother Peter and the ladies might sit upon their cushions, in No. 40,

while brother Addington Davenport gave them a sermon, upon the Apostolical

succession. The good people had therefore forgotten all about the Faneuil

arms; and, before a great many years had rolled away, the inquiry

naturally arose, in popular phraseology--"_Whereabouts was it, that Peter

Faneuil was buried?_"

Some worthy old citizen--God bless him--who knew rather more of this

matter than his neighbors, and was well aware, that the arms would be but

a dead letter to posterity, resolved to serve the public, and remedy the

defect. Up he goes into the Granary Ground, in the very spirit of Old

Mortality, and, with all his orthography in his ear, inscribes P. FUNEL

upon the tablet!

No. CXXXII.

"_But Simon's wife's mother lay sick of a fever._" Mark i. 30. From this

text, a clergyman--_of the old school_--had preached just as many,

consecutive sermons, as I have already published articles, concerning

Peter Faneuil and his family. A day or two after the last discourse, the

bell of the village church was tolled, for a funeral; and a long-suffering

parishioner, being asked, whose funeral it was, replied, that he had no

doubt it was Simon's wife's mother's; for she had been sick of a fever,

for nine weeks, to his certain knowledge. Let the reader possess himself

in patience--our dealings with the Faneuils cannot last forever.

We have stated, that Peter's death was sudden, the very death, from which,

as a churchman, he had prayed to be delivered. But let us not forget, that

no death is sudden, in the sense of the good man's prayers, however

instantaneously the golden bowl may be broken, to him, whose life has been

well spent, and who is prepared to die.

In this connection, two interesting questions arise--how Peter Faneuil

came to be a churchman--and if his life was a well-spent life, affording

him reasonable assurance of admission into Paradise.

The old Huguenots styled themselves "THE REFORMERS," and embraced the

doctrines of Calvin, in full. Oppression commonly teaches even intolerant

men the value of toleration. Our Puritan fathers, it is true, who fled

from Episcopal, as the Huguenots from Roman Catholic tyranny, profited

very little, by the lesson they had learned; and turned upon the Catholics

and Quakers, in the spirit of preposterous cruelty. The government of

Massachusetts, according to Hazard, received a profitable lesson of

moderation, from that of Rhode Island.

The Huguenots soon began to abate somewhat of that exorbitant severity and

punctiliousness, in their religion, which, in no slight degree, had

brought upon them that persecution, which was gathering, and impending

over them, in 1684, a twelvemonth before the revocation of the edict of

Nantes; compelling many of them, thus early, to fly from their homes, into

other lands. The teachings of James Saurin, the great Huguenot preacher of

the refugees, at the Hague, in 1705, and in subsequent years, were of a

milder type. He was "_a moderate Calvinist_." Such, also, were Daille and

Le Mercier, the ministers of the French Church, in Boston.

Peter Faneuil, undoubtedly, worshipped in this church, during a certain

period. We have seen the liberal arrangement of his uncle, in 1734, for

the support of its minister, and the testator's provision for its poor.

Even then, he evidently anticipated, that it might cease to be; and shaped

his testamentary provisions accordingly. Natural causes were in operation;

I have referred to them--intermarriage, with our English people--merging

the language of the few, in that of the many--juxtaposition--all tending

to diminish the necessity for maintaining a separate church.

There was no dissolution of the society, at first, by any formal vote. The

attendance became irregular and scanty--the members went elsewhere--Le

Mercier, "a worthy character," says the Rev. Dr. Holmes, ceased to

officiate, and the church broke up. For years, there were no services,

within the little temple; and, in 1748, it was sold, as I have stated, to

the members of another denomination.

It became a question with these Huguenots, the Faneuils, the Boutineaus,

the Johonnots, the Oliviers, the Sigourneys, and their associates, where

they should worship God. In 1740-41, the preachers, in Boston, were

Charles Chauncey, at the Old Brick--at the Old North, Increase Mather,

supplying the place of his brother Samuel, who, though ordained, in 1732,

preached but one winter, and parted--at the Old South, Joseph Sewall, and

Thomas Prince--at the Baptist, in Back Street, Jeremy Condy--at King's

Chapel, Stephen Roe--at Brattle Street, William Cooper--at the Quaker

meeting-house, in Leverett's Lane, whoever was moved by the Spirit--at the

New North, John Webb--at the New South, Samuel Checkley--at the New Brick,

Ellis Gray--at Christ Church, Timothy Cutler--at Long Lane, Jonny

Moorhead--at Hollis Street, Mather Byles--at Trinity, Addington

Davenport--at Lynde Street, William Hooper.

Several of the descendants of the Huguenots, not at all deterred, by the

resemblance, whatever that might be, between the forms of Episcopalian

worship, and those of their religious persecutors, the Roman Catholics,

mingled with the Episcopalians. Thus they clung to the common element, the

doctrine of the Trinity; and escaped, like Saurin, from the

super-sulphuretted vapors of primitive Calvinism.

It is not very surprising, that the Faneuils should have settled down,

upon the new and fashionable temple--Trinity had been erected but a few

years before; and the new rector was Peter's brother-in-law, Mr. Addington

Davenport.

Peter therefore became, _pro tanto_, an Episcopalian--a liberal subscriber

to the Charitable, Episcopal fund, and to the fund for the rebuilding of

King's Chapel; and identified himself with the Episcopal interest.

The religious character of Peter Faneuil, and the present whereabouts of

this public benefactor, will be determined, by different individuals,

according to the respective indications of their spiritual thermometers.

I have already ventured an opinion, that the mantle of charity, which

covereth a multitude of sins, should be extended, for Peter's behoof, over

that little affair with Peter Baynton, touching the duties, on those four

hogsheads of brandy. But there is another matter, over which, I am aware,

that some very worthy people will doubt, if the mantle of charity, can be

stretched, without serious danger of lesion--I refer to the importation,

about the same time with the prayer books, of that enormous quantity--six

gross--of "the very best King Henry's cards." I have often marvelled, how

the name of the Defender of the Faith ever came to be connected, with such

pestilent things.

I am well aware, how closely, in the opinions of some learned divines,

cards are associated with the idea of eternal damnation. If it be so; and

a single pack is enough to send the proprietor to the bottomless pit, it

is truly grievous to reflect how much deeper Peter, our great public

benefactor, has gone, with the oppressive weight of six gross of the very

best, upon his soul. Now-a-days, there seem to be very few, the Romanists

excepted, who believe in purgatory; and it is pretty generally agreed,

that all, who attempt the bridge of _Al Sirat_, will surely arrive, either

at Paradise, or Pandemonium.

How delightful it would be, to have the opinion of good old Andre Le

Mercier, in a case like this. Though Peter no longer waited upon Le

Mercier's ministrations; but, for several years, before the dissolution of

the French Church, had settled down, under brother Addington Davenport,

first, as the assistant at King's Chapel, and, afterwards, as the Rector

of Trinity; yet Le Mercier could not forget the nephew of his benefactor,

Andrew Faneuil. He was, doubtless, at Peter's funeral, who died one and

twenty years, before the holy man was summoned to his account, in 1764.

Yes, he was there.

I have heard of a man, who accounted, for the dryness of his eyes, when

all around him wept, at a pathetic discourse, on the ground, that he

belonged to another parish. I have known Christian ministers--_very_--not

many, thank heaven--who were influenced, to such a degree, by that spirit,

which may be supposed to govern the proprietors of opposition omnibuses,

as to consider the chord of human sympathy cut, through and through, and

forever, between themselves, and a parishioner, who, for any cause,

elected to receive his spiritual treasures out of some other earthen

vessel, albeit of the very same denomination of crockery ware.

Poverty, and disease, and death, and misery, in every type, might stalk

in, and upon, and over that homestead, and hearth, where these Christian

ministers had been warmed, and refreshed, and fostered--but it was no

longer a concern of theirs. No visit of condolence--no kind inquiry--not

one, cheap word of consolation had they, for such, as had ceased to

receive their ideas of damnation from them--enough--these individuals had

sold their pews--"_crimen difficile expiandum_"--they belonged to another

parish!

Andre Le Mercier, was not a man of this description. He was not a holy

huckster of spiritual things, having not one crumb of comfort, for any,

but his regular customers. Andre was a man, whose neighbor's ubiquity was

a proverb.

But what he would say, about these six gross of King Henry's cards, I am

by no means, certain. He was a man of a tolerant spirit; but on certain

points, the most tolerant are, occasionally, found to be imbued, with

unalterable prejudices. On page 85, of his Church History of Geneva, which

I have read with pleasure, he quotes approvingly, the maxim of "a doctor

of the church." "_In necessariis rebus sit unitas, in dubiis libertas, in

omnibus charitas._" This breathes the spirit of toleration:--what are

_dubia_, what _necessaria_ are not quite so readily settled, however.

On page 100, I find a passage, not quite so favorable for Peter, in this

matter of the six gross. Referring to Calvin's return to Geneva, in 1536,

after his banishment, Le Mercier says--"And then _Balls and Dances_ and

profane songs were forbidden, by the magistrates. And that form of

Discipline remains entire, to the present Time, notwithstanding the

repeated Attempts, that have been made by wicked People to overset it.

King Henry's cards, I fear, even of the very best quality, would,

undoubtedly, fall into this category, of things Calvinized on earth, in

the opinion of Andre Le Mercier."

The meaning of the words, "_profane songs_," may not be universally

intelligible. It undoubtedly meant, as used by the Council, _all songs not

sacred_. Calvin, undoubtedly, adopted the commendation of Scripture, to

such, as were merry, to sing psalms. It appears, however, that certain

persons entertained conservative notions, in those early days; even beyond

the dictum of holy writ; for, on page 101, Le Mercier states, that

Sebastian Castalio, a preacher, and professor, in the College of Geneva,

"_condemned Solomon's Songs, as being profane and immodest_;" the very

charge, as the reader is aware, which has been so often urged, against the

songs of Tom Moore. Moore, at last, betook himself to sacred melodies.

Solomon, had his life been spared, would, probably, have done the same

thing, to the entire satisfaction of Sebastian Castalio.

I see wisdom, and mercy, and truth, in a part of the maxim, quoted by

Andre Le Mercier--_in dubiis libertas_. I have long suspected there were

some angels in Heaven, who were damned by Calvin, on earth. I verily

believe, that Peter Faneuil is in Paradise.

No. CXXXIII.

Some of my readers, I doubt not, have involuntarily clenched their fists,

and set their teeth hard, while conning over the details of that merciless

and bloody duel, so long, and so deliberately projected, and furiously

fought, at last, near Bergen op Zoom, by the Lord Bruce, and Sir Edward

Sackville, with rapiers, and in their shirts. Gentle reader, if you have

never met with this morceau, literally dripping with blood, and are born

with a relish for such rare provant--for I fear the appetite is

congenital--you will find an ample account of the affair, in numbers 129

and 133 of the Guardian.

This wrathful fight is of an early date, having taken place, in 1613. Who

could measure the popular excitement, if tomorrow's dawn should bring the

tidings of a duel, fought the night before, on Boston Common, by two

young gentlemen, with rapiers, not, perhaps, quite so brutal, in its

minute details, but quite as deliberately planned, and quite as fatal, in

its result! What then must have been the effect of such an announcement,

on the morning of the fourth of July, 1728, one hundred and twenty-three

years ago, when Boston was a seaport village, just six years, after the

"_perlustration_" of Mr. Salter had rated the population, at 10,670 souls.

It is matter of sober history, that such a duel was actually fought, then

and there, on the evening of the third of July, 1728, near the

powder-house, which is indicated, on Bonner's plan of 1722. This was a

very different affair from the powder-house, erected at West Boston, in

1774, with walls of seven feet in thickness.

The parties, engaged, in this fatal affair were two young gentlemen, whose

connections were highly respectable, whose lives had been amiable, whose

characters were of good report, and whose friends were numerous and

powerful. The names of Peter Faneuil and of his uncle, Jean Faneuil, of

Rochelle, are associated with this transaction.

The parties were very young; the survivor twenty-two, and the victim but

little more. The survivor, Henry Phillips, was the brother of Gillam

Phillips, who, the reader of the preceding articles will remember, married

Marie, the sister of Peter Faneuil. Peter was then just twenty-eight; and,

doubtless, if there were dandies in those days, one of the foremost, on

the peninsula. The natural interest he felt, in the brother of his

sister's husband, engaged his efforts, to spirit the wretched survivor

away. He was consigned to the uncle of Peter, beyond the sea--to whom

Marie, his niece, very probably, wrote a few lines, bespeaking kind

offices, for the unfortunate brother of her husband. It is not impossible,

that old Andre added a prudential word or two, by way of postscript,

confirming brother Jean, as to the safety of the operation. Be this as it

may, Henry Phillips escaped from his pursuers, who were speedily put upon

the scent, by Governor Dummer. Henry Phillips arrived safely in Rochelle.

What befel him, in the strange land, is not the least interesting portion

of the narrative.

Benjamin Woodbridge--such was the name of the individual, who was the

victim, in this fatal encounter--was a young merchant, in partnership with

Mr. Jonathan Sewall. Of his particular origin I am not entirely

satisfied. The name, among us, is of the olden time. Benjamin Woodbridge

was the very earliest alumnus of Harvard College: born in England in 1622,

and graduated here in 1642.

The originating cause of this duel, like that, which produced the terrible

conflict, between the Lord Bruce and Sir Edward Sackville, is unknown.

That the reader may walk along with me, confidingly, upon this occasion,

it may be well to indicate the sources, from which I derive my knowledge

of a transaction, so exciting at the time, so fatal in its results, and so

almost universally unknown, to those, who daily pass over the very spot,

on our Common, upon which these young gentlemen met, and where young

Woodbridge fell.

I have alluded to the subsequent relation of Peter Faneuil, and of his

uncle, Jean, of Rochelle, to this affair. In my investigation into the

history of Peter and his relatives, I have been aided by Mr. Charles

Faneuil Jones, the grandson of Peter's sister, Mary Ann. Among the

documents, loaned me, by that gentleman, are sundry papers, which belonged

to Gillam Phillips, the brother of Henry, the survivor in the duel.

Among these papers, are original documents, in Jean Faneuil's handwriting,

relative to the fate of the miserable wanderer, after his arrival in

Rochelle--accounts of disbursements--regularly authenticated copies of the

testimony, relative to the duel, and to the finding of the dead body of

Woodbridge, and to the cooeperation of Peter Faneuil and others, in

concealing the survivor, on board the Sheerness, British man of war, and

of his indictment, the "_Billa Vera_," in August, 1728, by the grand jury

of Suffolk, for murder. In addition to these documents, I have found a

certified copy of a statement, highly favorable to the character of Henry

Phillips, the survivor, and manifestly intended to have an influence upon

the public mind. This statement is subscribed, by eighty-eight prominent

citizens, several of them holding high official stations, and among the

number, are four ministers of the Gospel, with the Rev. Timothy Cutler, of

Christ Church, at their head. Appended is the certificate of Governor

Burnett, who, in that very month, succeeded Governor Dummer, stating the

official, professional and social position of the signers of this

document, with which it was clearly intended to fortify an application to

George II. for a pardon of the offender.

The discovery of these papers, affording, as they do, some account of a

transaction, so very remarkable, for the time and place of its occurrence,

and of which I had never heard nor read before, excited my curiosity, and

led me to search for additional information.

If my reader is of the fancy, he will readily comprehend my chagrin, when,

upon turning over the leaves of Green's "_Boston Weekly News Letter_"--the

imperfect files--all that time has left us--preserved in the library of

the Massachusetts Historical Society--the very paper, that next ensued,

after July 3, 1728, the date of the duel, and which, doubtless, referred

to an occurrence, so very extraordinary, was among the "_things lost upon

earth_." I was not less unfortunate with the files of the old "Boston

Gazette," of that early day. I then took up Kneeland's "New England Weekly

Journal," but with very little confidence of success. The file, however,

was there--No. 68--July 8, 1728, and my eyes soon fell, as the reader's

fall at this moment, upon Governor Dummer's proclamation:--

"Whereas a barbarous murder was last night committed, on the body of

Benjamin Woodbridge, a young gentleman, resident in the town of Boston;

and Henry Phillips, of said town, is suspected to be the author of said

murder, and is now fled from justice; I have therefore thought proper to

issue this proclamation, hereby commanding all justices, sheriffs,

constables, and all other officers, within this Province, and requiring

all others, in his Majesty's name, to use their utmost endeavors, that the

said Henry Phillips may be apprehended and brought to justice; and all

persons, whosoever, are commanded, at their utmost peril, not to harbor

nor conceal him. The said Henry Phillips is a fair young man, about the

age of twenty-two years, well set, and well dressed; and has a wound in

one of his hands. Given at Boston, the 4th of July, 1728, in the second

year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord and King, George II." This

proclamation bears the signature of his Excellency, William Dummer.

The editor of the journal, which contains the proclamation, expresses

himself as follows--"On Thursday last, the 4th current, about 3 in the

morning, after some hour's search, was found dead, near the Powder House,

the body of Mr. Benjamin Woodbridge, a young gentleman, merchant of this

place. He had a small stab, under the right arm; but what proved fatal to

him was a thrust he received, under his right breast, which came out, at

the small of his back. The fore-finger of his left hand was almost cut

off, at the uppermost joint, supposed to be done, by grasping a naked

sword. The coroner's inquest immediately set upon the body; and, after the

best information and evidence they could obtain, upon their oaths say,

that 'the said Benjamin Woodbridge was killed, with a sword, run through

his body, by the hands of Henry Phillips, of Boston, merchant, on the

Common, in said Boston, on the third of this instant, as appears to us, by

sundry evidences.' The body was carried to the house of Mr. Jonathan

Sewall, (his partner,) and, on Saturday last, was decently and handsomely

interred, his funeral being attended, by the Commander-in-Chief, several

of the Council, and most of the merchants and gentlemen of the town. There

are many and various reports respecting this tragic scene, which makes us

cautious of relating any of them. But the above, being plain matters of

fact, we thought it not improper to give the public an account thereof.

The unhappy gentleman, who is supposed to have committed the act, is not

as yet found. This new and almost unknown case has put almost the whole

town into great surprise."

A sermon, upon this occasion, of uncommon length, was delivered July 18,

1728, by the Rev. Dr. Joseph Sewall, of the Old South, at the Public

Lecture, and published, with a preface, by the "_United Ministers_" of

Boston. To give dignity to this discourse, it is adorned with a Latin

prefix--"_Duellum est damnandum, tam in acceptante quam in provocante;

quamvis major sit culpa provocantis_." This discourse is singularly barren

of all allusion to the cause and circumstances of this event; and appears,

like our almanacs, adapted to any meridian.

At his Majesty's Court of Assize and General Gaol Delivery, on the second

Tuesday of August, 1728, the grand jurors, under the Attorney General

Hiller's instructions, found a "_Vera Billa_" against Henry Phillips, for

the murder of Benjamin Woodbridge. Phillips was then far beyond the

influence and effect of the _vera billa_--on the high sea--upon his voyage

of expatriation. For some cause, which I am entirely unable to comprehend,

and can barely conjecture, a sympathy existed, for this young man,

extending far beyond the circle of his personal friends and relatives, and

engaging, on his behalf, the disinterested efforts, not only of several

persons in high official stations, but in holy orders, who cannot be

supposed to have undervalued the crime, of which he was unquestionably

guilty, before God and man. The reader, as we proceed, may possibly be

more successful than I have been, in discovering the occasion of this

extraordinary sympathy.

No. CXXXIV.

That strong sympathy, exhibited for Henry Phillips, by whose sword a

fellow creature had so recently fallen, in a duel, must have sprung, if I

am not greatly mistaken, from a knowledge of facts, connected with the

origin of that duel, and of which the present generation is entirely

ignorant.

Truth lies not, more proverbially, at the bottom of a well, than, in a

great majority of instances, a woman lurks at the bottom of a duel. If

Phillips, unless sorely provoked, had been the challenger, I cannot think

the gentlemen, who signed the certificate, in his behalf, would have

spoken of him thus:--

"These may certify to all whom it may concern, that we, the subscribers,

well knew and esteemed Mr. Henry Phillips of Boston, in New England, to be

a youth of a very affable, courteous, and peaceable behavior and

disposition, and never heard he was addicted to quarrelling, he being

soberly brought up, in the prosecution of his studies, and living chiefly

an academical life; and verily believe him slow to anger, and with

difficulty moved to resentment."

Among the eighty-eight signers of this certificate, the names of Peter and

Benjamin Faneuil, and of their uncle, Andrew, occur, almost as a matter of

course. They were family connections. Who the others were, appears, by the

Governor's certificate, under the seal of the Province:--

"By his Excellency, William Burnet, &c. &c. These may certify whom it may

concern, that John Wentworth Esquire is Lieut. Governor of the Province of

New Hampshire; that William Tailor Esquire was formerly Lieut. Governor of

the Province of the Massachusetts Bay, and is now a member of his

Majesty's Council for said Province; that James Stevens is Surveyor

General of the Customs, for the Northern district, in America; that Thomas

Lechmere Esquire was late Surveyor General of the same; that John Jekyll

Esquire is Collector of the Customs, for the port of Boston; that Thomas

Steele is Justice of the Peace; that William Lambert Esquire is Controller

of the Customs, at Boston; that J. Minzies Esquire was Judge of the Vice

Admiralty; that Messieurs Timothy Cutler, Henry Harris, George Pigot, and

Ebenezer Miller are ministers of the Gospel; and that the other

subscribers to the certificate on the other side, are, some of them

merchants and others gentlemen of the town of Boston." This certificate,

bearing the signature of Gov. Burnet, is dated Oct. 21, 1728.

Of the origin of this affair, I have discovered nothing. Immediately after

its consummation, Phillips manifested deep distress, at the result. About

midnight, of July 3, 1728, with the assistance of his brother, Gillam,

Peter Faneuil, and several other persons, Henry Phillips was removed to a

place of safety. He was first conducted, by Peter Faneuil, to the house of

Col. Estis Hatch, and there concealed. His brother, Gillam, in the

meanwhile, applied to Captain John Winslow, of "_the Pink, Molly_," for a

boat, to carry Henry, on board the British man of war, then lying between

the Castle and Spectacle Island. Gillam and the Captain repaired to

Hatch's, and had an interview with Peter and Henry, in the yard. It was

then concluded, that Henry should go to Gibbs' Wharf, probably as the most

retired wharf, for embarkation. The reader, who loves to localize--this

word will do--will find this little wharf, on Bonner's plan, of 1722, at

the southeastern margin of Fort Hill, about half way between Whitehorn's

Wharf and South Battery. It lay directly northeast, and not far distant

from the lower end of Gibbs' Lane, now Belmont Street.

Henry Phillips, with Peter Faneuil, accordingly proceeded, as quietly as

possible, to Gibbs' Wharf. I see them now, stealing through Hatch's back

gate, and looking stealthily behind them, as they take the darker side of

Belcher's Lane. I trust there was no moon, that night. It was very foggy.

The reader will soon be sure, that I am right, in that particular.

Gillam and Captain Winslow had gone to the Long Wharf, where the Molly's

boat lay; and, as the distance was very considerable to the man-of-war,

they went first to the Pink, Molly--named, doubtless, for the Captain's

lady. There they took on board, four of the Pink's crew.

How heavily the moments passed that night! That "_fair young man_," as

Governor Dummer calls him, in the _lettres de cachet_--too young, it may

seem, at twenty-two, to commence a pilgrimage, like Cain's--how sublimated

his misery must have been! What sacrifice would he not have made, to break

the dead man's slumber! There he lay; as yet unfound, stark, and stiff,

and with eyes unclosed--

"Cut off, ev'n in the blossoms of my sin,

Unhousel'd, unanointed, unanneal'd."

Bootless sorrow! He had made his bloody bed--and therein must he lie

o'nights, and in no other. There were no hops in that pillow, for his

burning brain. The undying memory of a murdered victim--what an

everlasting agrypnic it must be!

Time, to this wretched boy, seemed very like eternity, that night--but the

sound of the splashing oar was audible at last--the boat touched the

wharf--for the last time he shook the hand of his friend, Peter Faneuil,

and left the land of his birth, which he was destined never to revisit.

The boat was turned from the shore, and the rowers gave way. But so

intense was the fog, that night, that they got on shore, at Dorchester

Neck; and, not until long after midnight, reached the Sheerness, man of

war. They were received on board. Captain Conrad and Lieutenant Pritchard

were very naturally disposed to sympathize with "_a fair young man_," in a

predicament, like this--it was all in their line. Gillam, the elder

brother, related the occurrence; and, before day, parted from Henry, whom

he was destined to meet no more. Early, on the following morning, the

events of the preceding night had been whispered, from man to man; for the

pleasure of being among the earliest, to communicate the intelligence of a

bloody murder, was precisely the same, in 1728, as it is, at the present

day. Mrs. Winslow, the lady of the Captain of the Molly, had learned all

the details, doubtless, before the morning watch. The surgeons, who

dressed the wounds of Henry Phillips, for he also was wounded, felt

themselves under no obligation to be silent. The sailors of the Molly, who

had overheard the conversation of several of the party, were under no

injunction of secrecy. Indeed, long before the dawn of the fourth of

July--not then the glorious Fourth--the intelligence had spread, far and

wide; and parties were scouring the Common, in quest of the murdered man.

At an early hour, Governor Dummer's proclamation was in the hands of some

trusty compositor, in the office of Samuel Kneeland, in Queen Street; and

soon the handbills were upon all the town pumps, and chief corners,

according to the usage of those days.

There is a pleasure, somewhat difficult of analysis, undoubtedly, in

gazing for hours upon the stuffed skin of a beast, that, when in the

flesh, has devoured a respectable citizen. When good Mr. Bowen--not the

professor--kept his museum in the mansion, occupied, before the

Revolution, by the Rev. Dr. Caner, and upon whose site the Savings Bank,

and Historical Society have their apartments, at present, nothing in all

his collection--not even the Salem Beauty--nor Marat and Charlotte

Corde--interested me so much, as a broken sword, with a label annexed,

certifying, that, during the horrors of St. Domingo, seven and twenty of

the white inhabitants had fallen, beneath that sword, in the hands of a

gigantic negro! How long, one of the fancy will linger--"_patiens pulveris

atque solis_" for the luxury of looking upon nothing more picturesque than

the iron bars of a murderer's cell!

It had, most naturally, spread abroad, that young Philips was concealed,

on board the man of war. Hundreds may be supposed to have gathered, in

groups, straining their eyes, to get a glimpse of the Sheerness; and the

officer, who, in obedience to the warrant, proceeded, on that foggy

morning, to arrest the offender, found more difficulty, in discovering the

man of war, than was encountered, on the preceding evening, by those, who

had sought for the body of Woodbridge, upon the Common. At length, the fog

fled before the sun--the vista was opened between the Castle and Spectacle

Island--but the Sheerness was no longer there--literally, the places that

had known her, knew her no more.

Some of our worthy fathers, more curious than the rest, betook themselves,

I dare say, to the cupola of the _old_ townhouse--how few of us are aware,

that the present is the third, that has occupied that spot. There, with

their glasses, they swept the eastern horizon, to find the truant

ship--and enjoyed the same measure of satisfaction, that Mr. Irving

represents the lodger to have enjoyed, who was so solicitous to get a

glimpse of the "Stout Gentleman."

Over the waters she went, heavily laden, with as much misery, as could be

pent up, in the bosom of a single individual.

He was stricken with that malady, which knows no remedy from man--a mind

diseased. In one brief hour, he had disfranchised himself for ever, and

become a miserable exile.

Among the officers of the Sheerness, he must have been accounted a young

lion. His _gallantry_, in the estimation of the gentlemen of the wardroom,

must have furnished a ready passport to their hearts--_he had killed his

man_!--with the _civilized_, not less than with the _savage_, this is the

proudest mark of excellence! How little must he have relished the

approbation of the thoughtless, for an act, which had made him the

wretched young man, that he was! How paltry the compensation for the

anguish he had inflicted upon others--the mourning relatives of him, whom

he had, that night, destroyed--his own connections--_his mother_--he was

too young, at twenty-two, to be insensible to the sufferings of that

mother! God knows, she had not forgotten her poor, misguided boy; as we

shall presently see she crossed the ocean, to hold the aching head, and

bind up the broken heart of her expatriated son--and arrived, only in

season, to weep upon his grave, while it was yet green.

No. CXXXV.

It is known, that _old_ Chief Justice Sewall, who died Jan. 1, 1730, kept

a diary, which is in the possession of the Rev. Samuel Sewall, of

Burlington, Mass., the son of the _late_ Chief Justice Sewall. As the

death of the _old_ Chief Justice occurred, about eighteen months after the

time, when the duel was fought, between Phillips and Woodbridge, it

occurred to me, that some allusion to it, might be found, in the diary.

The Rev. Samuel Sewall has, very kindly, informed me, that the diary of

the Chief Justice does not refer to the duel; but that the event was

noticed by him, in his interleaved almanac, and by the Rev. Joseph Sewall,

who preached the occasional sermon, to which I have referred--in _his_

diary: and the Rev. Mr. Sewall, of Burlington, has obligingly furnished me

with such extracts, as seem to have a bearing on the subject, and with

some suggestions, in relation to the parties.

On the 4th of July, 1728, Judge Sewall, in his interleaved almanac,

writes thus--"_Poor Mr. Benjam. Woodbridge is found dead in the Comon this

morning, below the Powder-house, with a Sword-thrust through him, and his

own Sword undrawn. Henry Phillips is suspected. The town is amazed!_" This

wears the aspect of what is commonly called foul play; and the impression

might exist, that Phillips had run his antagonist through, _before he had

drawn his sword_.

It is quite likely, that Judge Sewall himself had that impression, when he

made his entry, on the fourth of July: the reader will observe, he does

not say _sheathed_ but _undrawn_. If there existed no evidence to rebut

this presumption, it would seem, not that there had been murder, in a

duel, but a case of the _most atrocious_ murder; for nothing would be more

unlikely to happen, than that a man, after having received his death

wound, in this manner, should have sheathed his own sword. The wound was

under the right pap; he was run through; the sword had come out, at the

small of his back. How strongly, in this case, the presumptive evidence

would bear against Phillips, not that he killed Woodbridge, for of this

there is no doubt; but that he killed him, before he had drawn his own

sword.

When the reader shall have read the authenticated testimony, which now

lies before me, he will see, not only that the swords of both were

drawn--but that both were wounded--that, after Woodbridge was wounded, he

either dropped his sword, or was disarmed--and, that, when he had become

helpless, and had walked some little distance from the spot, Phillips

picked up the sword of his antagonist, and returned it to the scabbard.

The proof of this, by an eye-witness, is clear, direct, and conclusive.

The next extract, in order of time, is from the diary of the Rev. Joseph

Sewall, under date July, 1728--_"N. B. On ye 4th (wch was kept, as a Day

of Prayr upon ye account of ye Drought) we were surpris'd wth ye sad

Tidings yt Mr. Henry Phillips and Mr Woodbridge fought a duel in wch ye

latter was slain. O Ld Preserve ye Tow. and Land from the guilt of

Blood".----"In ye Eveng. I visited Mrs. Ph. O Ld Sanctify thine awful

judgt to her. Give her Son a thorow Rcpentce."_

These extracts are of interest, not simply because they are historical,

but as illustrative of the times.

"_1728, July 18. I preached ye Lecture from yese words, Ps. 119, 115,

Depart from me ye evil Doers, &c. Endeavd to shew ye evill and danger of

wicked Company.--Condemned Duelling as a bloody crime, &c. O Lord, Bless

my poor labours._"

"_1728-9, January 22. Mr. Thacher, Mr. Prince, and I met at Mrs.

Phillips, and Pray'd for her son. I hope G. graciously assisted. Ld Pardon

the hainous Sins of yt young man, convert and Heal his soul._"

Writing to a London correspondent, June 2, 1729, Chief Justice Sewall

says--"_Richard put the Letter on board Capt. Thomas Lithered, who saild

this day; in who went Madam Hannah Phillips_." In his interleaved almanac

is the following entry--"_1729, Sept. 27, Saturday Madam Phillips arrives;

mane_." The explanation of these two last entries is at hand. Jean Faneuil

of Rochelle had, doubtless, written, either to his brother Andre, in

Boston, or to his nephew, by marriage, Gillam Phillips, giving an account

of the wanderer, Gillam's brother. At length, the tidings came hither,

that he was sick; and, probably, in May, 1729, intelligence arrived, that

he was _dangerously ill_. The mother's heart was stirred within her. By

the first vessel she embarked for London, on her way to Rochelle. The eyes

of that unhappy young man were not destined to behold again the face of

her, whose daylight he had turned into darkness, and whose heart he had

broken.

He died about the twentieth of May, 1729, as I infer from the documents

before me. The first of these is the account, rendered by Jean Faneuil, to

Gillam Phillips, in Jean's own hand--"_Deboursement fait par Jean faneuil

pour feu Monsieur heny Phillipe de Boston_," &c. He charges in this

account, for amount paid the physician, "_pendant sa maladie_." The

doctor's bill is sent as a voucher, and is also before me. Dr. "_Girard De

Villars, Aggrege au College Royal des Medicins de la Rochelle_"

acknowledges to have received payment in full _pour l'honoraire des

consultes de mes confreres et moy a Monsieur Henry Phillipe Anglois_, from

the fourth of April, to the twentieth of May.

The apothecary's bill of Monsieur Guinot, covering three folio pages, is

an interesting document, for something of the nature of the malady may be

inferred, from the _materia medica_ employed--_potion anodine_--_baume

tranquille sant_--_cordial somnifere_. How effectually the visions, the

graphic recollections of this miserable young man must have _murdered

sleep_!

The Rev. Mr. Sewall of Burlington suggests, that Mr. Benjamin Woodbridge,

who fell in this duel, was, very probably, the grandson of the Rev. John

Woodbridge of Andover, and he adds, that his partner, Jonathan Sewall, to

whose house the body was conveyed, was a nephew of the _old_ Chief

Justice, and, in 1717, was in business with an elder brother, Major Samuel

Sewall, with whom he resided. In 1726, Major Sewall "lived in a house,

once occupied by Madam Usher, near the Common;" whither the body of

Woodbridge might have been conveyed, without much trouble.

The General Court, which assembled, on the 28th of that month, in which

this encounter took place, enacted a more stringent law, than had existed

before, on the subject of duelling.

I shall now present the testimony, as it lies before me, certified by

Elisha Cook, J. P., before whom the examination was had, on the morning

after the duel:--

"Suffolk, ss. Memorandum. Boston, July 4, 1728. Messrs. Robert Handy,

George Stewart and others being convented on examination, concerning the

murther of Benja. Woodbridge last night, Mr. Handy examined saith--that

sometime before night Mr. Benja. Woodbridge come to me at the White

horse[3] and desired me to lett him (have) his own sword. I asked ye

reason: he replied he had business called him into the Country. I was

jealous he made an excuse. I urged him to tell me plainly what occasion he

had for a sword, fearing it was to meet with Mr. Henry Phillips, who had

lately fell out. He still persisted in his first story, upon which I gave

him his sword and belt,[4] and then he left the Compy, Mr. Thomas Barton

being in Company, I immediately followed, and went into the Common, found

said Woodbridge walking the Common by the Powder house, his sword by his

side. I saw no person save him. I againe urged the occasion of his being

there. He denied informing. In some short time, I saw Mr. Henry Phillips

walking towards us, with his Sword by his side and Cloke on. Before he

came nere us I told them I feared there was a Quarrel and what would be

the events. They both denied it.

"Mr. Phillips replied again Mr. Woodbridge and he had some particular

business that concerned them two onley and desired I would go about my

business. I still persuaded them to let me know their design, and if any

quarrel they would make it up. Mr. Phillips used me in such a manner with

slites (slights) that I went of and left them by the powder house, this

was about eight in the evening. I went up the Common. They walked down.

After some short space I returned, being justly fearful of their designe,

in order to prevent their fiteing with Swords. I mett with them about the

Powder House. I first saw Mr. Woodbridge making up to me, holding his left

hand below his right breast. I discovered blood upon his coat, asked the

meaning of it. He told me Mr. Phillips had wounded him. Having no Sword I

enquired where it was. He said Mr. Phillips had it. Mr. Phillips

immediately came up, with Woodbridge's sword in his hand naked, his own by

his side. I told them I was surprized they should quarrel to this degree.

I told Mr. Phillips he had wounded Mr. Woodbridge. He replied yes so he

had and Mr. Woodbridge had also wounded me, but in the fleshy part onley,

shewing me his cut fingers. Mr. Phillips took Mr. Woodbridge's scabbard,

sheathed the Sword, and either laid it down by him, or gave it to him.

"Mr. Woodbridge beginning to faint satt down, and begged that surgeons

might be sent for. I immediately went away, leaving these two together.

Phillips presently followed, told me for God's sake to go back to

Woodbridge, and take care of him, till he returned with a surgeon. I

prayed him to hasten, but did not care to returne. Mr. Phillips went away

as fast as he could and went down the lane by the Pound.[5] I returned to

the White Horse. I found Mr. Barton and Geoe Reason together. I told Mr.

Barton Phillips and Woodbridge having quarreled, Woodbridge was much

wounded. I asked Barton to go and see how it was it with Woodbridge. We

went a little way from the house, with a designe to go, but Barton,

hearing Phillips was gone for a Chirurgeon, concluded Phillips would

procure a Chirurgeon, and so declined going, and went to Mr. Blin's house

where we ware invited to supper. I have not seen Mr. Hy Phillips or

(heard) any from him, since I left him going for a Chirurgeon."

Such is the testimony of Robert Handy; and the reader will agree with me,

that, if he and Barton had been choked with their supper at Mr. Blin's, it

would have been a "Providence." It would be difficult to find the record

of more cruel neglect, towards a dying man. When urged to go back and

sustain Woodbridge, till a surgeon could be procured, he "_did not care to

returne_." And Barton preferred going to his supper. The principle, which

governed these fellows, was a grossly selfish and cowardly fear of

personal implication. Upon an occasion of minor importance, a similar

principle actuated a couple of Yorkshire lads, who refused to assist, in

righting the carriage of a member of parliament, which had been

overturned, because their father had cautioned them never to meddle with

state affairs.