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A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","text_extract":") \n\n\n1 \n\n^^ \n\nfr^ \n\n^t \n\n1^ \n\nmi \n\n/^ \n\n-^m \n\nn^fk \n\nB\" \n\no \n\nH \n\n'/7^ \n\n'y^ \n\n^  0.!^'f'*^!V'^-.^!)y'  ■?7l\\i^\\j|M'/)' \n\n^^^ \n\nvJm \n\n^ \n\nil \n\nM] \n\nS \n\nHbH \n\num^ \n\n& \n\n^   ^W^^^ \n\nH \n\n(^ \n\nvOvKj/ /«/ \n\nrate. \n\nf^^l \n\nv^jIW \n\nU^^i \n\n^s^ \n\n^              4^l\\ \n\n,^M:'l \n\n^^li^poi \n\n3^' \n\n^^M \n\n^J^ \n\nMBi^^MMlH \n\nM^^ \n\nwm^ \n\n'      ^^sm \n\ns \n\nS\"  ' '  \"^'  'S\\ \n\n^^ \n\nB \n\nS \n\n(><v// \n\npo \n\n■^^ \n\nm \n\nM \n\n§ \n\nil'  Jm \n\n\\^OA \n\nB \n\ng^ \n\nH \n\nS \n\nM \n\nIjpr \n\n^^' \n\nyO^o \n\ng \n\nMM^ \n\n^ \n\nS \n\ns \n\nB \n\nH \n\nM \n\n^ \n\ny/j \n\nH \n\n\\S\\^ \n\n0 \n\ns \n\nSB \n\n^/ \n\nH \n\n§ \n\nH \n\nB \n\no \n\n^==;  1///^ \n\nH \n\ns \n\nvl/M \n\n0 \n\ns \n\n0 \n\nS \n\n^> \n\n> \n\ni \n\n^7  r^ \n\nii^ \n\nV      xV \n\n/^ \n\n1 \n\nf^ \n\ni \n\n1 \n\n1 \n\nm/ j'ii \n\n-       ,       -^       f   |,^^^/ \n\ns^'/ \n\n^M^\\ \n\n,^i^^^i^ \n\nS^'/i \n\nM \n\n\\VN\\ \n\nWr/A \n\nvy^ \n\n\\j^i \n\n^^ \n\ni \n\n'A!    -     X, \n\nps« \n\npH \n\nr^*^i \n\ns \n\nH \n\n^^ \n\nB \n\nM \n\nE \n\n^r/ \n\ni'/M \n\n*'        \"1 \n\ns \n\nH \n\n0 \n\nP \n\n^^Iff \n\nH \n\ns \n\nt^\\ \n\n^ \n\nl^y/l \n\niPnfi \n\nwA \n\ns \n\n^J  ^^ \n\n\\^ \n\ns \n\nmJ \n\nfcl^ \n\nH \n\n^&- \n\n\\l^ \n\n^ \n\n^^^i^wC^/r  ^^^^ \n\nw/  y/ 1\\  vSv  w \n\nif^' \n\n^l^i \n\nf^^^d \n\n^^J \n\nM(^/ \n\nMl^/ \n\n\\^^\\ \n\n/^i^/ \n\np=^ \n\n^C\\ \n\n0 \n\nP \n\n^ \n\nup\"  A \nW'Jk \n\n^ \n\n^ \n\n^/^ \n\nW^>*t\\\\  r^^^^ \n\nr^^ \n\n^n \n\nUf^/h \n\np \n\n1 \n\n'  ^ppr^S|3 \n\nr^^^j \n\n5 \n\n^ \n\nMi \n\nM \n\nM \n\n1 \n\nKCf/j \n\nv^w \n\n-3|Kii/  li'/^^isri  i/r^ife^ \n\n^7/ \n\n^^iw/^ \n\nS \n\n^^iF  1  '^^r  ^  ^^\\lt^ \n\n^^ \n\nHi^ \n\nW^i \n\n///J \n\nli^ \n\nf^i^ jT^f^  ^1^ \n\n^^ \n\nolo /^l^- \n\n^j^l/^l^' \n\nIf^X^I \n\n^Elo^ \n\n^^ \n\n\\K\\\\WM \n\nmm \n\n#    •    *    >      1p \n\n\\\\  ^v\\ii/     y// \n\nMl \n\nM \n\nv^ \n\n^v \n\nH \n\nOf^W \n\n■^-_-^,,,   -r              '             :*g:^ \n\n^1^// \n\nM \n\n^J  rr^i^7 \n\n1 \n\n1 \n\nP \n\n1 \n\n\"■^A \n\nI \n\n■t \n\n~ \n\n^ \n\n■ \n\ni- \n\n/\".^ \n\nM \n\ni\"^^ \n\ns \n\nH \n\n^ \n\nB \n\n^ \n\nM^ \n\nWo \n\n\nWa \n\n\nVa \n\n\nI \n\n\n'/7? \n\n\n<^ \n\n\n\\fP^, \n\n\nC^>\\ \n\n\nx^i \n\n\n\\v: \n\n\nGREAT  CITIES  OF  THE  REPUBLIC \n\n\nI. — Story  of  the  City  of  New  York.  A  history \nof  the  city  from  the  discovery  of  the  island  by \nVerrazano  till  the  present  time.  By  Charles  Burr \nTodd,  author  of  \"Life  and  Letters  of  Joel  Bar- \nlow.\"    Profusely  illustrated,  cloth.  .         $1-75 \n\nIL — The  Story  of  Washington.  By  Charles \nBurr  Todd.     Fully  illustrated      .         .         $1.75 \n\nIII. — The  Story  of  Boston.  By  Arthur  Oilman, \nauthor  of  \"Story  of  Rome,\"  \"  Story  of  the  Sara- \ncens,\" etc.  Octavo,  cloth,  with  numerous  illustra- \ntions and  maps        .....         $1.75 \n\n\nG.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS,  New  York  and  London \n\n\n( \n\n\nf  ^c?\": \n\n\n:^' \n\n\n\\ \n\n\nTHE   OLD    SIATF.-HOUSK   (1748)    AS    RESTORED    IN    1881.  FrotlHsfiecc. \n\n\n—y   \\j \n\n\n^AS^.S \n\n\n|rcat  |ities  of  tl|e  |(fpublic \n\n\nTHE \n\nSTORY   OF    BOSTON \n\nA  STUDY   OF    INDEPENDENCY \n\n\nBY \n\n\nARTHUR    OILMAN,  M.A. \n\nAUTHOR   OF  \"  THE  STORY   OF   ROME,\"  \"  THE   STORY   OF   THE   SARACENS,\"  \"a    HIS- \nTORY  OF   THE   AMERICAN    PEOPLE,\"  EDITOR    Of\"tHE    POETICAL \nWORKS    OF    GEOFFREY     CHAUCER,\"    ETC.,    ETC. \n\n\nILLUSTRATED \n\n\n\"  There  never  was  a  colony,  save  this,  that  went  forth,  not  to  seek  gold,  but  God.\" \n\n— James  Russeil  Lowell \n'■  Civil  independence  was  as  truly  their  object  as  religious  liberty.\" \n\n— yosiak  Qiiincy \n\n\nNEW  YORK  &  LONDON \n\nG.  P.  PUTNAM'S    SONS \n\nCt^e  Snickerbotlur  '^rcss \n\n1889 \n\n\nCOPYRIGHT   BY \n\nG.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS \n\n\nUbc  Iknichcrbockcr  press,  \"Rew  Korli \n\nElectrotyped  and  Printed  by \nG.  P.  Putnam's  Sons \n\n\nPREFACE. \n\n\nThe  Story  of  Boston  deals  with  the  doings  of \na  community  of  earnest  men  who  for  eightscore \nyears  had  no  considerable  interests  except  those \nconnected  with  politics  and  religion.  For  the  whole \nof  the  earlier  period  of  their  history  they  gave  them- \nselves with  all  the  force  of  their  nature  to  such  sub- \njects as  these.  The  pursuits  which  in  our  day \nabsorb  the  attention  of  intelligent  men  are  peculiar \nto  our  age  and  generation  ;  the  Fathers  of  New \nEngland  knew  them  not. \n\nGovernor  Hutchinson  was  right  when  he  wrote,  in \n1773  :  \"  For  many  years  past  the  town  of  Boston \nhas  been  used  to  interest  itself  in  every  affair  of \nmoment  which  concerned  the  Province  in  general  \"  ; \nfor  certainly  Boston  sought  to  do  all  that  it  could \nto  give  form  to  the  action  of  the  colonists  in  other \nparts  of  Massachusetts  and  of  America.  The  story \nof  Boston  cannot  be  told,  therefore,  without  reference \nto  events  that  were  going  on  in  other  parts  of  the \nland.  Her  great  citizen,  Samuel  Adams,  was  the \n\"  Father  of  the  American  Revolution.\"  Boston \nmen  saw  the  beginning  of  that  struggle,  and  they \nstood  side  by  side  with  their  fellows  of  the  other \ncolonies  then,  as  they  have  stood  by  them  in   the \n\niii \n\n\niv  PREFACE. \n\nconflicts  of  the  nation  since.  As  we  approach  our \nown  day  we  are  not  so  much  involved  in  the  affairs \nof  other  communities,  though  Boston  has  never  been \nan  uninterested  spectator  of  pubHc  movements  in \nany  portion  of  the  continent. \n\nThe  Story  of  Boston  calls  us  to  a  study  of  Inde- \npendency,— to  the  contemplation,  first,  of  a  vigorous \nstruggle  by  strong  men  for  a  century  and  a  half \nagainst  a  powerful  monarchy  ;  and  next,  to  an  ex- \namination of  the  fruits  of  a  discipline  of  debate  and \nconflict  in  the  development  of  a  typical  American \ncivilization. \n\nNowhere  is  the  truth  more  plain  that  the  story  of \na  community  is  told  in  the  lives  of  its  inhabitants. \nIt  is  only  as  one  becomes  filled  with  the  spirit  of  the \nmen  and  women  of  Boston  that  he  discovers  the \nsprings  which  have  moved  them  in  dealing  with \nagitating  questions.  The  outside  record  of  the \nsoldier,  of  the  statesman,  of  the  legislator,  is  written \nlarge  on  the  pages  of  history ;  but  the  inspiring \nmotives  of  their  actions  are  often  hidden  in  the \nunprinted  story  of  familiar  life  and  conversation.  It \nis  hoped  that  in  some  degree  the  real  lives  of  the \nfathers  of  Boston  and  of  those  who  labored  and \nsuffered  by  their  sides  may  be  brought  out  in  the \nfollowing  pages. \n\nCamhkidck,  Jtiiit'  17,  1S89. \n\n\nCONTENTS. \n\n\nI. — A  Declaration  of  Independence \n\nII. WiNTHROP  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS  . \n\nIII. — Getting  Ready  for  a  Voyage  . \n\nIV. — The  Founding  of  Boston   . \n\nV. — Margaret  Winthrop  Comes  over \n\nVI. — The  Lay  of  the  Land \n\nVII. — Sundry  Troubles \n\nVIII. — The     Government     Becomes     more \n\nPopular    ..... \n\nIX. — Welcome  and  Unwelcome  Visitors \n\nX.— The  Charter  is  Attacked \n\nXL — ^The  Times  of  the  Mathers \n\nXII. — The  Charter  is  Lost  . \n\nXIII. — An  American  Despotism \n\nXIV. — The    King's    Governors    Begin    to \n\nRule \n\nXV. — The    Governors    and    the    Boston \nPeople       ...... \n\nXVI. — Strained  Relations   .         .         .         . \n\nXVII. — Is  IT  Lawful  to  Resist  ?     .         .         . \n\nV \n\n\nPAGE \nI \n\nII \n\n23 \n\n33 \n45 \n56 \n63 \n\n83 \n96 \n\n114 \n\n129 \n\n145 \n\n172 \n\n190 \n\n207 \n221 \n\n\nVI \n\n\nCONTENTS. \n\n\nXVIII. — Tested  and  not  Found  Wanting       .     240 \n\nXIX. — A  Maltster  Enters  Politics     .         .     256 \n\nXX. — Boston  Opposes  a  Tax        .         .         .273 \n\nXXI. — In  the  Grip  of  the  Army  .         ,         .     290 \n\nXXII. — Blood  is  Spilled  ....     305 \n\nXXIII. — Stirring  up  a  Continent  .         .         .321 \nXXIV.— War      .         ...         .         .         .         .344 \n\nXXV. — Boston  Besieged  ....     z(>i \n\nXXVI. — Independence  Declared  and  Won    .     378 \n\nXXVII. — The  Old  Order  Changeth         .         .     396 \n\nXXVIII. — The  Town  Becomes  a  City         .         .414 \n\nXXIX. — The  Second  Mayor     ....     426 \n\nXXX. — The  New  Order  Established    .         .     438 \n\nXXXI. — Changing  Boundary  Lines        .         .     448 \n\nXXXII. — Individualism  and  Other  Isms  .         -457 \n\nXXXIII. — Modern  Boston 469 \n\nIndex 483 \n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS. \n\n\nPAGE \n\nThe  Old  State-House  (1748)  as  Restored  in  1881.      Frontispiece \nJohn  Winthrop     .        .         .        .        .        .        .         .        .13 \n\nSir   Richard   Saltonstall.     From    a  Portrait  by  Rem- \nbrandt    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         •       19 \n\nWinthrop's  Fleet  in  Boston  Harbor,  krom  a  Spot  be- \ntween Boston  and  East  Boston 39 \n\nBlaxton's  Lot 43 \n\nThe  Great  Elm  in  the  Common.     Destroyed  in  1S76        .       47 \nCopp's  Hill  as  it  Appeared  in  Winthrop's  Time.     The \n\nMill  AVAs  Erected  IN  1632      ......       57 \n\nTwo  Pages  of  the  \"  New  England  Primer  \"  (Seventeenth \nCentury).  This  was  Used  as  Lately  as  the  Begin- \nning OF  the  Nineteenth  Century        .        .        .        .71 \n\n\n75 \n133 \n166 \n\n\nThe  Frog  Pond  on  the  Common  as  it  Now  Appears  . \n\nIncrease  Mather \n\nThe  First  King's  Chapel  (1688),  Showing  the  Beacon \nThe  First  Church,  or  \"Old  Brick.\"     Built  in  1713,  on \nthe  Site  of  the  Present  Joy's  Building  and  Occupied \nuntil  1808.      Its  Bell  Sounded  the  Alarm   at  the \nTime  of  the  \"  INIassacre,\"  March  5,  1770     .         .         .     179 \nFurniture  of  Wealthier  Townsmen  in  Provincial  Times     183 \nA  Map  of  Boston  in   1722.      This  Map,   Known  as  the \n\"Bonner  Map,\"  was  Made  by  Captain  John  Bonner, \nand  No  Older  Map  is  Known  that  Gives  the  Streets \nand  Prominent  Places.     The  Original  is  Preserved \namong  the  Archives  of  the  Mass.^chusetts  Histori- \ncal Society 187 \n\nInterior  of  Christ  Church  at  Present  (Built  1723)  .     203 \n\nBoston  and  its  Environs  in  1775.  This  Shows  the  For- \ntifications around  the  Town  at  the  Opening  of  the \nRevolution  ;  it  also  Serves,  so  far  as  the  Natural \nFeatures  Go,  to  Illustrate  All  Stages  of  the \nEarlier  History  of  the  City     ...  .     209 \n\n\nviii  ILL  US TRA  TIONS. \n\n\nSamuel  Adams.     At  the  Age  of  45  Years.     Akter  the \n\nPoRTR.\\rr  BY  Copley  in  the  Art  Museum  (1772)    .         .     223 \n\nThe  Second  Faneuil  Hall  (1764) 235 \n\nInterior  of  the  Present  King's  Chapel,  (Corner-Stone \n\nLaid  1749) .        .251 \n\nJohn  Hancock.     After  the  Portrait  by  Copley  in  the \n\nMuseum  of  Fine  Arts  (i  737-1 793) 257 \n\nJames  Otis,  (1725-1783)  at  the  Age  of  Thirty.     After  a \n\nPortrait  by  Blackburn 267 \n\nThe  Old  State-House  in  1801.  The  State-Street  End, \nShowing  the  Old  Brick  Church  (on  Washington \nStreet)  behind  IT.     Built  in  1748         .        .        .        .315 \n\nGovernor  Thomas  Hutchinson,  after  a  Portrait  in  Pos- \nsession OF  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Associa- \ntion, once  the  Property  of  Jonathan  Mayhew  .         .     333 \n\nThe  Old  South  Church,  in  its  Present  Condition.    (Built \n\n1729)         .         •         •         • 341 \n\nJohn  Hancock's  House,  Facing  the  Common     .        .        .     401 \n\nCrossing  of  the  Railroads  in  the  Back-Bay  Reckon  in \n\n1840 411 \n\nJosiAH    QuiNCY    (1772-1864).       From    the    Portrait    by \n\nStuart  now  in  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts        .        .     427 \n\nAdvertisement  of  the  Worcester  Railroad,  from  the \n\nPapers  of  the  Day 450 \n\nThe  Rear  of    the  State-House,    and   the   Monument, \n\nShowing  THE  Removal  OF  the  Hill  (1811-1812)  .        .     453 \n\nThe  Monument  from  Temple  and  Derne  Streets  (1811- \n\n1812) 455 \n\nMap  of  Modern  Boston,  from  the  Latest  Authokitative \n\nSources  (1889) 463 \n\nThe  Present  State-House  (Built  IN  1795)  .        .         .         .     471 \n\nThe  Private  Library  of  George  Ticknor,  until  L.\\tely \nIN  the  House  on  the  Corner  of  Park  and  Beacon \nStreets,  in  which  Lafayette  was  Entertained.  {Cir. \n1870) 477 \n\nThe  Public  Garden  and  the  Buildings  around  it  in  the \n\"  Back  Bay\"  Region.  This  is  all  on  \"  Made\"  Land, \n— the  Sidewalk  in  the  Foreground  Marking  the  Ex- \ntreme Limit  of  the  Original  Shore     ....     4S1 \n\n\nTHE  STORY  OF  BOSTON. \n\n\nA   DECLARATION   OF   INDEPENDENCE, \n\n\nThe  twenty-sixth  of  August,  1629,  is  an  important \ndate  in  the  history  of  Boston.  On  that  day  the  de- \ncision was  taken  that  determined  the  settlement  of \nthe  town.  Had  it  not  been  for  a  conclusion  then \nreached  by  a  company  of  discreet  gentlemen  who \nmet  at  Cambridge,  England,  the  promontory  called \nShawmut  might  have  been  peopled  by  quite  a  differ- \nent class  of  settlers  from  those  who  made  it  their \nfirst  home  on  the  American  coast. \n\nUp  to  that  time  England  had  done  but  little  in \nthe  way  of  settling  the  new  lands  in  the  West, \nthough  she  made  great  claims  upon  America,  be- \ncause, as  she  supposed,  her  sailor,  Cabot,  had  been \nthe  first  of  Europeans  to  lay  his  eyes  on  the  shores \nthat  he  appropriately  called  Prima  Vista.  There \nhad,  it  is  true,  been  considerable  exploration  under \nElizabeth  ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  reign  of  James \nthat  any  thing  creditable  and  enduring  was  actually \naccomplished.      On    the   third  of    November,  1620, \n\n\n2  A   DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. \n\nthe  latter  sovereign  formed  a  body  corporate  known \nas  \"  The  Council  for  New  England,\"  the  full \nname  of  which  was  \"  The  Council  Established  at \nPlymouth,  in  the  County  of  Devon,  for  the  Planting, \nRuling,  Ordering,  and  Governing  of  New  England  in \nAmerica,\"  and  it  was  upon  its  charter  that  most  of \nthe  New  England  grants  were  based.  The  act  of \nincorporation  was  essentially  the  giving  of  new  and \nenlarged  privileges  to  a  body  established  in  1606  by \nthe  same  king,  which  was  known  as  \"  The  Northern \nColony  of  Virginia.\" \n\nThe  Council  for  New  England  was  an  important \ncompany,  comprising  forty  persons,  most  of  them \nmen  of  distinction,  and  some  of  them  peers  of  the \nhighest  rank.\"  In  March,  1628,  it  made  a  grant  to \nanother  company  of  the  territory  in  which  Boston \nlies,  known  as  \"  the  Massachewset.\"  The  name  had \nbeen  conferred  upon  it  by  Captain  John  Smith,  the \nexplorer  of  Virginia,  who  considered  it  \"  the  paradise \nof  all  those  parts.\"  There  is  some  mystery  about \nthe  granting  of  this  charter,  and  there  was  indefinite- \nness  about  the  extent  of  the  territory  conveyed  ;  but \nwithout  stopping  to  have  all  matters  settled,  the \npersons  interested,  who  really  formed  a  great  land \ncompany,  sent  out  a  small  colony  under  command \nof  John  Endicott,  one  of  their  number,  Avhich \nreached  Salem,  then  called  Naumkeag,  in  Septem- \nber, 1628,  and  that  place  became  the  first  town  in \nthe  colony. \n\n*  The  facts  about  the  Council  for  New  England  are  given  in  de- \ntail by  Charles  Deane,  LL.D.,  in  Winsor's  \"Narrative  and  Critical \nHistory  of  America,\"  vol.  iii.,  pp.  295,  320,  etc. \n\n\nTHE   CHARTER   OBTAINED.  3 \n\nWhen  the  council  for  New  England  sold  the  terri- \ntory just  mentioned  it  gave  the  buyers  no  powers  of \ngovernment  (though  it  had  received  rights  for  \"  or- \ndering and  governing  \"),  and  it  became  necessary  to \nobtain  them  from  the  king,  who  at  that  time  was \nCharles  the  First.  By  whatever  means,  a  charter \nwas  obtained  from  him,  and  it  was  duly  signed  and \nsealed  March  4,  1629.  The  territory  was  then  de- \nfined as  extending  from  three  miles  north  of  the \nMerrimac  River  to  three  miles  south  of  the  Charles \nRiver,  and  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to  \"  the  South \nSea,\"  as  the  Pacific  was  called.  This  seems  an  im- \nmense territory,  but  it  did  not  appear  so  vast  to  the \ngrantors  as  it  does  to  us,  because  it  was  limited  in \ntwo  important  particulars.  In  the  first  place,  it  was \ngenerally  supposed  that  our  continent  was  an  island, \nthe  distance  across  which  was  not  great  *  ;  and,  in  the \nsecond  place,  all  territory  that  might  prove  to  be \noccupied  by  any  Christian  state  was  excluded  from \nthe  grant.  The  natives  reported  to  John  Smith  that \nthe  river  of  Massachusetts  extended  \"  many  days' \njourney  into  the  entrails  of  that  country,\"  and  in \n1619,  a  bold  explorer  dreamed  of  getting  through  to \nthe  Indies  by  way  of  the  Charles  River,  or  the  Mystic, \nwhich  seems  marvellously  strange  to  us  who  know \nthose  little  streams! \n\nThe    persons    interested     in    the    Massachusetts \n\nwished   to   fish  or  to  trade   with   the  natives,  and  to \n\n*  The  only  exception  to  this  belief  known  to  the  present  writer  is \nfound  in  the  \"  Records  of  the  council  for  New  England,\"  edited  by \nCharles  Deane,  LL.D.,  and  published  in  the  proceedings  of  the \nAmerican  Antiquarian  Society  for  1S67.  On  page  124  it  is  said  that \nthe  distance  \"  from  sea  to  sea  is  near  about  three  thousand  miles.\" \n\n\n4  A    DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. \n\nestablish  colonies  for  those  purposes ;  but  it  was \nnot  long  before  the  purposes  changed.  Many  who \nwere  restive  under  the  condition  of  religious  and \npolitical  affairs  in  England,  who  were  discouraged  at \nthe  prospect  of  ever  accomplishing  any  thing  in  the \nway  of  certain  reforms  that  they  felt  to  be  all-im- \nportant, conceived  the  project  of  making  a  colony \nfor  religion  under  the  purchase.  Ferdinando  Gorges,* \nin  his  book  \"  America  Painted  to  the  Life,\"  says  that \nthere  were  several  kinds  of  these  people,  who  did  not \nagree  among  themselves  ;  that  some  of  the  more \ndiscreet  among  them  made  plans  to  settle  in  New \nEngland,  and  that  \"  in  a  very  short  time  numbers  of \npeople  of  all  sorts  flocked  thither  in  heaps  \"  ;  but \nthis  anticipates  our  story. \n\nThe  charter  of  Charles  the  First  constituted  the \noriginal  purchasers,  and  some  score  of  others  whom \nthey  had  admitted  to  their  company,  a  political  body \ncorporate  with  the  name  \"  The  Governor  and  Com- \npany of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  in  New  England,\" \nand  gave  them  authority  to  enact  laws  and  to  carry \nthem  out,  provided  they  made  none  opposed  to \nthose  of  England.  By  the  end  of  May  arrangements \nhad  been  made  to  send  out  a  second  company  of \nsettlers,  under  the  general  direction  of  the  Reverend \nFrancis  Higginson.  Five  ships  sailed  from  the  Isle \nof  Wight  in  that  month,  and  reached  Salem  by  the \nend  of  June  ;  but  our  interest  is  not  with  them. \nThe  body  corporate  provided  by  the  charter  was  far \nfrom   complete  in    its  political  powers,  though  the \n\n*  Quoted    by    Hutchinson,    in   his   \"  History   of  Massachusetts,\" \nchapter  i. \n\n\nA  BOLD  suggestion:  5 \n\ngovernor,  the  deputy-governor,  and  the  eighteen \n\"  assistants,\"  which  it  mentioned,  were  authorized  to \nmake  laws,  and  an  annual  gathering  was  provided \nfor,  in  which  all  the  \"  freemen  \"  of  the  colony  were \nto  be  brought  together  as  \"  The  Great  and  General \nCourt.\" \n\nThe  interest  in  the  movement  to  which  Gorges \nreferred  continued  in  England,  and  was  destined  to \nhave  a  greater  influence  upon  American  affairs  than \nhe  or  any  one  else  dreamed.  Among  the  persons \nconnected  with  it  were  several  gentlemen  of  \"  figure \nand  estate,\"  as  the  old  form  of  speech  expresses  it, \nwho  thought  that  there  might  be  an  opportunity  in \nthe  distant  land  to  manage  affairs  both  of  church \nand  state  in  accordance  with  their  own  views.  They \nbecame  alarmed  as  they  saw  some  of  the  principal \nliberal  speakers  in  parliament  committed  to  the \nTower  and  to  other  prisons,  and  though  they  had \nhoped  long,  they  at  last  gave  up  all  expectation  of \nbeing  able  to  bring  about  a  political  and  religious \nreformation  in  the  father-land.  To  one  of  these, \nMatthew  Cradock,  who  was  governor  of  the  Massa- \nchusetts company,  a  bold  inspiration  was  suggested. \nIt  was  no  less  than  this :  that  the  charter  and  the \ncompany  itself  might  both  be  removed  to  the  New \nWorld.* \n\nIn  the  history  of  America  we  find  that  at  one \ntime  and   another  certain   individual   men  seem  to \n\n*  \"  He  did  not  say,  what  he  must  have  been  clearly  understood  to \nmean,  that  in  this  way  the  king  would  have  some  difficulty  in  laying \nhis  hand  upon  the  governor.\"  \"  History  of  England,  from  the \nAccession  of  James  I.  to  the  Outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,\"  by  Samuel \nR.  Gardiner,  I>I>.D.,  vol.  vii  ,   p.  156. \n\n\n6  A   DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. \n\npreside  over  the  destinies  of  the  communities  in \nwhich  they  Hve,  and  this  is  remarkably  true  in  the \nhistory  of  Boston.  Mr.  Cradock  appears  now  merely \nto  make  a  suggestion,  and  it  is  another  man  who \nrises  to  prominence  iirst,  as  the  presiding  genius  of \nthe  settlement  of  our  promontory.  The  character- \nistics and  the  very  name  of  John  VVinthrop  were \nstrongly  stamped  upon  much  of  the  expression  of \nlife  in  the  town  during  the  early  years  of  its  exist- \nence, and  their  influence  has  not  yet  been  lost.  The \nmeetings  of  the  company  had  been  held  in  London, \nbut  no  particular  place  was  mentioned  in  the  char- \nter, and  they  could  be,  and  actually  were  at  times, \nheld  elsewhere. \n\nPerhaps  this  removal  had  been  thought  of  before. \nIn  the  year  1644,  at  a  time  when  there  was  a  good \ndeal  of  political  discussion  in  Boston,  Mr.  Winthrop \nwrote  a  formal  \"  Discourse  on  Government,\"  which \nhas  been  printed.^''  In  it  he  says  that  when  the \ncharter  was  at  first  drawn,  it  was  the  intention  to \n\"keep  the  chief  government  in  the  hands  of  the \ncompany  residing  in  England,\"  as  was  the  case  in \nthe  charter  for  Virginia,  but  that  a  clause  to  that \neffect  was  stricken  out,  \"  with  much  difificulty,\"  and \npermission  given  .to  establish  a  government  in \nAmerica.  Mr.  Winthrop  does  not  make  it  clear, \nhowever,  that  any  thing  more  was  intended  than  that \nsuch  rights  as  had  been  given  to  Endicott  might  be \n\n*  In  the  following  pages  much  use  will  be  made  of  the  \"  Life  and \nLetters  of  John  Winthrop,\"  in  which  (ii.,  443)  this  \"  Discourse,\" \nwhich  came  to  light  in  i860,  among  a  mass  of  papers  discovered  in \nan  old  family  residence  at  New  London,  Conn.,  will  be  found. \n\n\nDISCUSSING  REMOVAL.  7 \n\ndelegated  to  those  who  should  go  across  the  ocean, \nand  that  was  quite  different  from  the  authority \nwhich  he  and  his  associates  exercised  in  Boston  after \nthe  actual  transfer  of  the  charter.  As  for  the  meet- \nings, the  gentlemen  were  free  to  come  together,  if \nthey  thought  best,  on  a  ship  in  the  Thames,  for  all \nthat  the  charter  said  ;  and  if  perchance  that  ship \nwere  to  weigh  anchor,  and  they  should  find  them- \nselves sailing  away  towards  America,  ought  the \nmeeting  be  stopped  ?  If  the  proceedings  should  of \nright  be  stopped,  how  far  might  the  vessel  sail  with- \nout making  them  illegal  ?  Mr.  Cradock  was  sure \nthat  there  was  room  for  a  little  profitable  study  in \nquestions  like  these,  and  accordingly  he  made  his \nmomentous  proposal,  at  a  meeting  held  in  London \nin  July,  that  the  charter  and  the  government  should \nbe  transferred  to  America,  those  members  of  the \ncompany  being  placed  in  its  offices  who  should  be \nwilling  to  \"  inhabit  and  continue  there  \"  with  their \nfamilies. \n\nNothing  in  so  grave  a  matter  was  to  be  done  in  haste \nand  it  was  decided  that  before  the  next  meeting, \nwhich  was  to  be  held  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  August, \nthe  members  should  write  out  their  views,  both  in \nfavor  of  the  proposition  and  against  it,  and  they \nwere  desired  \"  to  carry  this  business  secretly,  that \nthe  same  be  not  divulged,\"  because,  as  they  appear \nto  have  very  well  understood,  taking  a  charter \nacross  seas  was  something  very  like  setting  up  an \nindependent  government  and  placing  it  so  remote \nfrom  the  king  and  parliament  that  they  would  find \nit  difficult  to  interfere  with  it.      There  was,  in  fact, \n\n\n8  A   DECLARA  TION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. \n\nno  reason  for  keeping  the  plan  secret  except  this: \nthat  the  scheme  involved  independence  of  king  and \nparliament.  In  an  address  delivered  on  the  comple- \ntion of  the  second  century  from  the  settlement  of \nBoston,  Josiah  Quincy,  then  president  of  Harvard \nCollege,  declared  that  the  idea  of  independence  of \nthe  parent  state  was  first  conceived  by  Winthrop \nand  Dudley  and  Saltonstall  and  their  associates ; \nthat  they,  by  their  act  in  bringing  the  charter  over \nthe  sea,  indicated  a  settled  purpose  to  obtain  inde- \npendence, and  made  as  efificient  a  declaration  of  that \npurpose  as  was  possible  under  their  circumstances. \nThey  actually  obtained,  Mr.  Quincy  asserted,  \"an \neffectual  independence  under  a  nominal  subjection.\" \nThe  historian,  William  Gordon,  says  of  their  motives \n(vol.  i.,  page  42) :  \"  They  meant  to  be  independent \nof  English  parliaments.\" \n\nCan  we  imagine  the  thought  and  conferences  that \noccupied  the  four  weeks  after  this  meeting?  These \nwere  earnest  men,  and  though  ori  the  face  of  the \nrecords  the  matter  seems  to  be  new,  there  is  reason \nto  suspect,  as  has  been  remarked,  that  they  had  long \nheld  the  secret  intention  of  making  such  a  transfer \nas  was  now  broached.  However,  they  took  counsel \nof  one  another,  and  especially  of  a  Mr.  John  White \nof  their  number,  a  man  learned  in  the  law,  and  after \nhaving  satisfied  themselves  that  it  would  be  legal  to \nmake  the  transfer,  they  inquired  who  were  willing  to \ngo  to  New  England  to  \"  inhabit  and  continue  there.\" \nMr.  Cradock  had  intimated  that  there  were  persons \nof  worth  and  quality  ready  for  the  move.  Now  they \nappear. \n\n\nTHE  MEETING  AT  CAMBRIDGE.  g \n\nOn  the  twenty-sixth  of  August — two  days  before \nthe  meeting  that  was  to  settle  the  matter, — twelve \nmen  held  the  important  conference  to  which  refer- \nence has  been  made.  Little  did  they  foresee  the  im- \nportance of  their  unpretentious  gathering.  Perhaps  ■ \nthey  met  in  the  room  of  Mr.  John  Winthrop's  son, \nForth,  in  Emanuel  College.  They  failed  to  record \nthe  place,  and  we  know  only  that  it  was  in  Cam- \nbridge. How  long  the  men  who  met  on  that  mem- \norable day  debated  the  subject  before  them  we  are \nnot  informed.  We  are  certain,  however,  that  \"  upon \ndue  consideration,\"  having  weighed  the  greatness  of \nthe  work  and  the  consequences  of  their  action,  they \nall  agreed,  and  sincerely  and  freely  promised  and \nbound  themselves  one  to  the  other,  to  \"  pass  the \nseas  (under  God's  protection),  to  inhabit  and  con- \ntinue in  New  England,\"  provided  that  the  whole  gov- \nernment and  the  charter  should  be  legally  transferred \nto  remain  there  also.* \n\nWhen  the  company  met  two  days  later,  it  was \nannounced  that  the  business  to  be  attended  to  was \nto  give  answer  to  the  gentlemen  who  had  signed \nthis  agreement.     There  was  no  haste  in   this  case. \n\n*  With  regard  to  the  transfer,  Mr.  Bancroft  writes  in  his  ninth \nchapter:  \"The  lawfuhiess  was  at  the  time  not  questioned  by  the \nprivy  council  ;  at  a  later  day  was  expressly  affirmed  by  Sawyer,  the \nattorney-general  ;  and  in  1677  the  chief-justices  Rainsford  and \nNorth  still  described  the  '  charter  as  making  the  adventurers  a  cor- \nporation upon  the  place.'  \"  Dr.  Ellis  says  that  the  imputation  that \nthe  transfer  was  made  illegally,  in  daring  contempt  of  authority,  and \nthat  the  \"  company  surreptitiously  stole  away  from  England  with \nthe  patent  to  set  up  an  unlicensed  authority  on  the  soil  of  New \nEngland,\"  has  been  \"  satisfactorily  set  aside.\" — \"  The  Puritan  Age \nand  Rule,\"  p.  47. \n\n\nlO \n\n\nA   DECLARA  TION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. \n\n\nTwo  committees  were  appointed  to  prepare  argu- \nments on  the  subject,  the  one  for  and  the  other \nagainst  making  the  transfer.  Accordingly  the  fol- \nlowing morning  the  committees  met.  It  was  at  the \nearly  hour  of  seven.  They  weighed  each  other's \narguments — they  turned  them  over  and  over  again. \nFinally  they  discussed  the  points  thoroughly  before \nthe  whole  company,  and  then  a  vote  was  called  for. \nAs  many  as  desired  to  have  the  charter  and  the \ngovernment  of  the  plantation  removed  to  America \nwere  asked  to  hold  up  their  hands.  Those  who  were \nopposed  were  likewise  asked  to  do  the  same,  and  it \nappearing  that  it  was  the  general  consent  that  the \nremoval  should  take  place,  it  was  formally  decided \nthat  an  order  for  the  transfer  should  be  drawn  up. \nThis,  President  Quincy  calls  \"the  first  and  original \ndeclaration  of  independence.\" \n\n\n11. \n\n\nWINTHROP   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. \n\n\nOf  the  twelve  men  who  thus  boldly  declared  their \nindependence,  and  expressed  their  willingness  to  be- \ncome pilgrims,  the  first  to  fix  our  attention  now,  as  we \nlook  at  the  list  under  the  light  of  subsequent  history, \nis  Mr.  John  Winthrop.  Probably  his  name  would \nhave  attracted  us  if  we  had  examined  the  list  in  the \nyear  1630,  for  the  man  who  bore  it  was  evidently  a \nperson  of  no  mean  importance.  He  was  a  native  of \nthe  little  hamlet  of  Groton  in  Suffolk,  a  few  miles \nwest  from  Ipswich,  a  place  so  insignificant  that  it  has \nfaded  from  our  maps,  and  its  very  name  is  dropped \nfrom  the  great  gazetteers  of  our  day.  It  is  of  im- \nportance to  us  in  connection  with  the  annals  of \nBoston  and  of  America,  however,  and  will  always  be \nremembered  as  having  given  its  name  to  other  places \nin  the  New  World. \n\nJohn  Winthrop  was  a  late  comer  in  the  group  of \nmen  interested  in  this  scheme  for  colonization.  His \nname  does  not  occur  in  the  records  of  the  Governor \nand  Company  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  until  the \nmeeting  after  that  of  August  twenty-sixth,  and  we  do \nnot  even  know  that  he  was  actually  present  at  any \nmeeting  until   October,  when  he  was  appointed  to \n\n\nII \n\n\n12  WIN  THRO  P   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. \n\nmake  arrangements  of  a  business  nature  for  those \nwho  intended  to  emigrate.  Though  he  comes  thus \nsuddenly  into  prominence,  the  course  of  his  life,  laid \nbefore  us  in  his  \"  Life  and  Letters,\"  shows  that  he \nhad  been  much  engaged  both  in  considerations  of \nthe  progress  of  New  England  and  old  England. \nHe  felt  (to  draw  from  a  carefully  written  paper \nknown  as  \"  General  Considerations  for  the  Planta- \ntion of  New  England,\"  which  was  circulated  among \nsome  of  the  friends  of  the  enterprise)  that  he  had \nfallen  upon  disastrous  times ;  that  fountains  of  learn- \ning in  his  native  country  were  corrupted  ;  that  all \narts  and  trades  were  carried  on  in  such  deceitful  and \nunrighteous  Avays  that  it  was  wellnigh  impossible \nfor  a  good  man  to  live  by  any  of  them  ;  that  the \nland  was  weary  of  her  inhabitants  ;  that  man  had \nbecome  of  less  importance  than  beasts,  children,  who \nought  to  have  been  considered  blessings,  being  count- \ned the  greatest  burdens;  that  the  kingdom  of  anti- \nchrist was  increasing  ;  that,  in  brief,  the  Lord  had  be- \ngun to  frown  upon  England  and  to  cut  its  inhabitants \nshort.  It  seemed  to  Mr.  John  Winthrop  that  America \nwas  intended  by  Providence  to  be  a  place  of  refuge \nfor  the  many  who  were  to  be  saved  out  of  the  general \ncalamity  which  seemed  imminent,  and  that  emigra- \ntion was  a  work  of  God  for  the  good  of  the  church, \nwhich  had  no  place  left  to  fly  into  but  the  wilderness. \nThe  American  continent  was  supposed  to  be  the \nhome  of  the  arch-fiend  and  his  angels,  and  a  genera- \ntion later  Michael  Wigglesworth,  the  typical  Puritan \npoet,  wrote  in  \"  God's  Controversy  with  New  Eng- \nland,\" that  the  region  was \n\n\nJOHN   WINTHROP. \n\n\n13 \n\n\n14  WINTHROP  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. \n\n\"  A  waste  and  howling  wilderness. \n\nWhere  none  inhabited, \nBut  hellish  fiends  and  brutish  men \n\nThat  devils  worshipped. \nThis  region  was  in  darkness  placed, \n\nFar  off  from  heaven's  light, \nAmidst  the  shadows  of  grim  death \n\nAnd  of  eternal  night. \n\nMr.  Winthrop  did  not  fail  to  discuss  the  other  side \nof  the  question  in  his  \"  General  Considerations \"; \nprobably  that  he  might  have  a  reply  to  give  those \nwho  should  differ  from  him  in  opinion.  If  it  were \nsaid  that  Englishmen  had  no  right  to  enter  upon  a \nland  that  had  so  long  been  occupied  by  others,  he \nreplied  that  the  natives  enclosed  no  land,  and  that \nif  sufificient  for  their  use  were  left  to  them,  the \nremainder  might  lawfully  be  taken  ;  that  there  were \nin  fact  but  few  of  the  natives  left,  since  a  great \nplague  had  overtaken  them,  and  that  those  who \nwere  living  would  learn  so  much  from  Englishmen  as \nto  be  able  to  obtain  more  benefit  from  what  might \nbe  left  them  than  they  then  did  from  the  whole  land. \nWas  it  urged  that  if  good  people  were  to  leave \nEngland  it  would  be  more  open  to  the  judgments \nfeared  than  it  was  before  ;  he  replied  that  the  depart- \ning of  the  good  people  would  only  foreshadow  and \nnot  bring  on  the  evil,  and  might  cause  the  remnant \nto  repent  ;  that  the  emigrants  would  do  more  good \nin  the  new  land  than  at  home  ;  and  that  the  barbari- \nans might  through  them  receive  the  gospel,  the \npreaching  of  which  had  been  one  of  the  prominent \npurposes  of  every  .scheme  of  colonization  that  had \nbeen  proposed  since  the  days  of  Columbus  and  the \n\n\nTHE   ONE   GREAT  BOOK.  I  5 \n\nCabots.  The  colony  at  Salem  had  already  placed \non  its  official  seal  an  Indian  erect  holding  an  arrow \nin  its  right  hand  with  the  Macedonian  cry,  \"  Come \nover  and  help  us !  \"  indicative  of  its  intentions  in \nrespect  to  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  savages. \n\nJohn  Winthrop  was  at  the  time  forty-two  years  of \nage.  His  lot  had  been  cast  among  men  who  had \nbeen  associated  with  such  statesmen  and  scholars  as \nBacon  and  Essex  and  Cecil,  accustomed  to  discuss \nthe  highest  matters  of  state.  He  was  born  the  year \nthat  his  country  was  threatened  by  the  great  Armada \nfrom  Spain,  and  he  had  lived  through  the  last  part  of \nthe  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the  whole  of  that  of  James \nthe  First,  and  the  first  years  of  King  Charles.  The \ndiscussions  of  vital  topics  of  statecraft  and  theology \nwere  as  familiar  to  him  as  household  words.  He  was \neleven  years  old  when  Spenser  died,  and  doubtless \nhe  was  acquainted  with  the  almost  puritanic  allegory \nof  that  most  poetical  of  poets.  Doubtless,  too,  he \nwas  familiar  with  the  \"  Divine  Emblems  \"  of  Francis \nQuarles  ;  perhaps  he  knew  of  the  quiet  life  of  saintly \nGeorge  Herbert,  then  hidden  at  Bemerton  ;  and  we \nmay  imagine  that  he  had  seen  something  of  the  brill- \niant promise  of  the  youthful  Milton,  who  had  lately \ntaken  his  bachelor's  degree  at  Cambridge. \n\nIn  the  \"  History  of  the  English  People,\"  by  Green, \nand  in  the  history  of  our  literature,  by  Taine,  we  be- \ncome acquainted  with  the  most  powerful  influence \nupon  the  development  of  the  English  character  at \nthis  time.  In  his  history,  Mr.  Green  says :  \"  The \nsmall  Geneva  Bibles  carried  the  Scripture  into  every \nhome,  and  wove  it  into   the   life  of   every  English \n\n\n1 6  WINTHROP   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. \n\nfamily  \"  ;  and  he  shows  that  the  influence  of  this \nbook  was  great  also  upon  the  intellectual  develop- \nment of  the  people,  \"  that  the  mass  of  picturesque \nallusions  and  illustrations  which  we  borrow  from  a \nthousand  books,  our  fathers  were  forced  to  borrow \nfrom  one,\"  for,  as  he  adds,  \"  the  Bible  was  as  yet  the \none  book  that  was  familiar  to  every  Englishman,  and \neverywhere  its  words,  as  they  fell  on  ears  which  cus- \ntom had  not  deadened  to  their  force  and  beauty, \nkindled  a  startling  enthusiasm.\"  Among  the  circle \nto  which  John  Winthrop  belonged  the  Bible  was  still \nthe  one  great  book,  and  as  we  consider  this  fact  we \nshall,  as  Mr.  Green  says,  \"  better  understand  the \nstrange  mosaic  of  biblical  words  and  phrases  which \ncolored  English  talk  two  hundred  years  ago.\"  The \nGeneva  version  was  the  one  that  the  people  still  car- \nried, but  the  translation  known  as  \"  King  James's  \" \nhad  appeared  but  a  score  of  years  previous  to  the \ntime  of  the  Boston  emigration,  and  the  fact  that  it \nwas  in  progress,  and  finally  that  it  had  been  completed, \nmust  have  added  to  the  interest  in  the  volume. \n\nThe  letters  of  Winthrop  present  us  the  picture  of \na  loving  husband  and  father,  a  careful  man  of  affairs, \na  far-seeing  statesman,  and  a  most  devout  man  of  re- \nligion. He  addresses  the  most  affectionate  messages \nto  his  \"  good  wife,\"  to  whom  he  often  writes  in  terms \nlike  these  :  \"  Yet  I  must  kiss  my  sweet  wife  *  ;  and  so, \n\n*  It  is  Winthrop's  third  wife,  Margaret  Tindal,  who  is  thus \naddressed.  In  her,  according  to  the  sympathetic  historian  Gardiner, \n\"  he  found  his  mate  ;  she  it  was  who  made  him  what  he  now  l)ecame. \nFrom  the  day  that  his  faith  was  plighted  to  her,  ...  he  learned \nto  step  boldly  out  amongst  his  equals,  to  take  his  share  in  the  world's \n\n\nTHE  RISKS   OF  REMOVAL.  1/ \n\nwith  my  blessings  to  our. children,  and  salutation  to \nall  our  friends,  I  commend  thee  to  the  grace  and  bless- \ning of  the  Lord.\"  Every  letter  breathes  the  sweet \nsentiments  of  a  faithful  affection,  as  well  as  a  deep \nreligious  spirit. \n\nJohn  Winthrop  had  among  the  acquaintances \nwhose  counsel  he  prized  one  Robert  Ryece,  a  Suf- \nfolk antiquary,  and  to  him  he  submitted  the  \"  Gen- \neral Considerations.\"  Perhaps  the  arguments  in  it \nfor  and  against  the  New  England  enterprise  were \nthe  very  ones  that  the  Massachusetts  company  con- \nsidered at  its  meetings.  An  interesting  document \nhas  been  preserved  in  which  Mr.  Ryece  goes  care- \nfully over  the  ground  these  arguments  present,  writ- \ning like  the  conservative  that  he  was.  While  guard- \ning his  friend  against  specious  inductions,  Mr.  Ryece \nadvises  him,  that  in  case  affairs  had  gone  so  far  that \nwithout  his  presence  the  chief  undertakers  of  the \nplantation,  who  were  men  \"  of  great  goodness,  qual- \nity, and  wisdom,\"  would  in  no  way  stir  in  the  busi- \nness without  him,  and  if  sundry  divines  of  great \nunderstanding  and  good  judgment  had  answered  all \nimpediments  and  objections  which  his  Suffolk  friends \nwere  not  aware  of,  there  seemed  to  him  no  reason, \nand  less  conscience,  that  he  should  by  holding  back \noverthrow  a  work  of  so  eminent  consideration  and \nconsequence  ;  \"  and,  therefore,\"  says  Mr.  Ryece, \n\"  your    friends    do    now    rather    encourage    you    to \n\nwork.  ...  In  his  letters  of  this  period  there  is  nothing  to  distin- \nguish him  from  any  other  God-fearing  Puritan  of  the  time,  excepting \nthe  almost  feminine  tenderness  and  sensitiveness  of  his  disposition.\" \n— \"  History  of  England,\"  vol.  vii.,  p.  154. \n\n\nl8  WINTHROP  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. \n\nproceed,  and  do  entreat  .the  Almighty  Lord  of \nHosts  to  go  with  you,  to  bless  and  govern  you \nin  all  your  ways.\" \n\nWinthrop  seems  to  have  consulted  Mr.  Ryece  a \nsecond  time,  for  that  gentleman  writes  again,  this \ntime  just  two  weeks  before  the  Cambridge  meeting, \nurging  his  friend  to  leave  the  proposed  business  to \nyounger  men  ;  and  exclaiming:  \"How  hard  will  it \nbe  for  one  brought  up  among  books  and  learned \nmen  to  live  in  a  barbarous  place,  where  is  no  learn- \ning and  less  civility,\"  or,  as  we  should  say,  civiliza- \ntion. \"  The  pipe  goeth  sweet,\"  he  reminds  Win- \nthrop, \"  till  the  bird  be  in  the  net  ;  many  beautiful \nhopes  are  set  before  your  eyes  to  allure  }'ou  to \ndanger.  If  in  your  youth  you  had  been  acquainted \nwith  navigation,  you  might  have  promised  yourself \nmore  hope  in  this  long  voyage  ;  but  for  one  of  your \nyears  to  undertake  so  large  a  task  is  seldom  seen  but \nto  miscarry.  To  adventure  your  whole  family  upon \nso  manifest  uncertainties  standeth  not  with  your \nwisdom  and  long  experience.  ...  I  pray  you \npardon  my  boldness,  that  had  rather  err  in  what \nI   think,  than  be  silent  in  that  I    should  speak.\" \n\nThus  was  the  leading  spirit  in  this  great  emigra- \ntion warned  and  entreated  by  all  considerations  of \nprudence,  and  by  reflections  upon  the  advantages \nthat  might  accrue  to  the  church  and  the  community \nif  he  would  but  remain  at  home  ;  but  arguments \naddressed  to  his  prudence,  and  to  his  love  for  his* \nwife  and  children,  who  might  be  left  alone  and  un- \nprovided-for  in  a  strange  land,  far  from  all  hope  of \nreceiving   help  ;    to  his  love    of   study,  and    to    his \n\n\nSIR    RICHARD    SALTONSTALI,.       FROM    A    PORTRAIT    BY    REMBRANT, \n\n10 \n\n\n20  WINTHROP  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. \n\nhabits,  adjusted  to  the  conveniences  of  civilization, \nfailed.  In  spite  of  every  argument,  John  Winthrop, \na  hero  in  a  heroic  age,  persisted  in  carrying  out  the \ndesign  which  Providence  and  his  worthy  associates \nin  the  company  had,  as  he  fully  believed,  called  him \nto.  Margaret  Winthrop,  the  \"  dear  wife,\"  was  also \nequal  to  the  occasion,  and  wrote  constantly  to  her \nhusband  words  of  cheer  a:nd  sympathy,  assuring  him \nthat  the  good  Lord  would  certainly  \"  bless  us  in  our \nintended  purpose.\" \n\nThe  other  members  of  the  group  of  twelve  require \nless  attention  at  our  hands,  though  they  too  were \nworthy  men  all,  and  doubtless  they  and  their  wives \nand  advisers  had  gone  through  the  same  discussion \nthat  Mr.  Winthrop  so  carefully  followed.  Sir  Rich- \nard Saltonstall,  whose  name  heads  the  list,  was  very \nlargely  interested  in  the  enterprise.  He  was  de- \nscended from  a  former  lord  mayor  of  London,  and \nhad  for  grandson  a  governor  of  Connecticut,  and \nwas  the  honored  ancestor  of  many  bearing  the  same \nname  in  Boston  to-day.  He  is  remembered  as  having \nleft  in  his  will  a  bequest  to  Harvard  College,  and  he \nwas  the  largest  contributor  to  the  company's  funds. \nThomas  Dudley,  also  descended  from  ancestors  hon- \nored in  English  history,  and  chosen  into  public  office \nevery  year  of  his  life  in  the  new  land  (being  for  four \nyears  governor  and  often  deputy-governor),  was  one \nof  the  older  members  of  the  emigrant  group.  John \nNowell  was  related  to  the  dean  of  St.  Paul's  in  the \nreign  of  Elizabeth,  was  sometime  ruling  elder  in \nthe  church  at  Charlestown,  and  again  one  of  the \nmagistrates  at  Boston.    William  Vassall  bore  a  name \n\n\nENGLISH  COUNTRY  GENTLEMEN.  21 \n\nafterwards  honored  among  the  colonists,  but  appears \nto  have  differed  somewhat  in  rehgious  matters  from \nthe  majority  at  Boston,  on  which  account  he  returned \nto  England,  though  he  came  back  again  and  lived  a \nwhile  at  Scituate,  in  Plymouth  colony.  He  made  a \nfortune  in  Jamaica,  -when  it  was  conquered  by  Penn \nand  Venables,  in  the  time  of  Cromwell.  William \nPynchon,  a  man  of  learning  and  piety,  became  the \nfounder,  first  of  Roxbury  and  then  of  Springfield, \nhis  family  being  still  honored  in  Massachusetts. \nJohn  Humfrey  was  one  of  the  earliest  persons  inter- \nested in  the  company.  He  is  described  as  a  godly \nman  of  special  parts,  of  learning  and  activity.  He \nwas  chosen  deputy-governor  at  first,  but  his  depart- \nure from  England  was  delayed  until  1632,  when  he \ncame  over  with  his  wife,  Lady  Susan,  daughter  of \nthe  Earl  of  Lincoln.  He  had  been  familiar  with  the \nconversation  of  patriotic  nobles  in  the  home  of  his \nfather-in-law,  who  was  the  head  of  the  now  ducal \nhouse  of  Newcastle.  Isaac  Johnson  was  the  man  of \nlargest  estate  among  the  group.  He  also  was  a  son- \nin-law  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln.  He  rejoiced  at  the \nestablishment  of  the  colony,  and  considered  his  life \nwell  spent  in  its  service.  Governor  Hutchinson  calls \nhim  \"  the  idol  of  Boston,\"  and  says  that  the  people, \nwhen  they  died,  ordered  their  bodies  laid  to  rest \naround  his  in  the  grounds  adjoining  King's  Chapel.* \nHis  wife  is  remembered  as  Arbella,  after  whom  one \nof  the  vessels  in  which  the  party  sailed  for  America \nwas  named.     The  other  men  of  the  Cambridge  meet- \n\n*  This  current  fancy  is,  it  must  be  added,  disbelieved  by  careful \ninvestigators. \n\n\n22  WINTHROP  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. \n\ning  were  Thomas  Sharp,  who  did  not  remain  long  in \nNew  England,  Michael  West,  Killam  Browne,  and \nWilliam  Colbron.  Of  them  all  it  has  been  truly  said \nthat  they  were  English  country  gentlemen  of  no \ninconsiderable  fortunes,  and  of  enlarged  understand- \nings, (measured  by  the  standards  of  their  time,)  im- \nproved by  collegiate  education.  They  were  most  of \nthem  men  who  did  not  venture  to  America  for  the \npurpose  of  increasing  their  worldly  goods,  for  they \nwere  too  comfortable  at  home  to  make  such  an  enter- \nprise attractive  to  them. \n\n\nIII. \n\n\nGETTING  READY  FOR  A  VOYAGE. \n\n\nJohn  Winthrop  consulted  his  friends,  but  he  did \nnot  forget  his  immediate  family.  That  his  wife \nsympathized  fully  in  what  he  was  about  to  do  we \nalready  know.  A  -few  days  before  the  Cambridge \nmeeting  John  Winthrop,  junior,  wrote  to  his  father \nthat  he,  too,  had  given  thought  to  the  matter  of \n\"  the  business  for  New  England,\"  that  he  confidently \nbelieved  it  was  '\"  of  the  Lord  \";  and  that  he  had  seen \nso  much  of  the  vanity  of  the  world  that  he  esteemed \nno  more  the  diversities  of  countries  than  as  so  many \ninns,  whereof  the  traveller  that  hath  lodged  in  the \nbest  or  the  worst  findeth  no  difference  when  he \nCometh  to  his  journey's  end  ;  and  he  called  that  his \ncountry  where  he  could  most  glorify  God  and  enjoy \nthe  presence  of  his  dearest  friends.*  He  mentions \ncertain  \"  Conclusions  \"  sent  to  him  by  his  father, \nwhich,  he  said,  he  had  shown  to  his  uncle  and  aunt, \nand  reported  that  they  liked  them  well ;  as  for  him- \nself, he  thought  them  unanswerable. \n\n*  John  Winthrop,  junior,  had  been  an  extensive  traveller.  He \nentered  the  naval  service  in  1627,  going  with  the  Duke  of  Bucking- \nham to  the  relief  of  Rochelle  ;  and  he  took  a  tour  of  Europe  in  1628, \nin  which  he  was  absent  more  than  a  year,  visiting  Leghorn,  Venice, \nPadua,  Amsterdam,  and  many  places  of  less  importance, \n\n23 \n\n\n24  GETTING  READY  FOR   A     VOYAGE. \n\nThese  Conclusions  of  the  elder  Winthrop  are  in \ntwo  parts,  the  first  being  general,  relating  to  the \nplantation,  and  the  second  particular,  relating  spe- \ncially to  the  writer's  own  case.  It  was  probably  the \nlatter  portion  which  was  submitted  to  the  members \nof  the  family  circle.  In  it  Mr.  Winthrop  says  that \n\"  divers  of  the  chief  undertakers  \"  of  the  plantation \nwould  not  go  to  America  without  him  ;  that  his  wife \nand  such  of  his  children  as  were  come  to  years  of \ndiscretion  were  voluntarily  disposed  to  the  same \ncourse,  and  that  most  of  his  friends  consented  to  the \nchange.  We  see  that  John  Winthrop  was  thus  fully \nsettled  in  his  mind.  He  entertained  no  doubts  about \nhis  action  ;  he  was,  as  he  believed,  \"  called  of  the \nLord,\"  and  of  the  company.  Another  incentive  was \nto  be  added. \n\nMr.  Matthew  Cradock  found  that  his  departure \nwas  impracticable,  and  his  name  does  not  appear \namong  those  who  had  agreed  to  go,  though  he  was \none  of  the  chief  supporters  of  the  enterprise.  He \ntherefore  resigned  his  ofifice,  and  the  company  was \ncalled  together  in  October,  only  five  days  after  Mr. \nWinthrop's  first  attendance  at  the  meetings,  to \nchoose  a  new  governor.  The  gentlemen  spoken  of  for \nthe  ofifice  were  Saltonstall,  Johnson,  Winthrop,  and \nHumfrey.  After  serious  deliberation  it  was  \"  con- \nceived to  be  for  the  especial  good  and  advancement \nof  their  affairs  \"  that  Mr.  Winthrop  should  take  the \nchief  of^ce.  It  is  said  in  the  records  that  \"  extra- \nordinary great  commendations  \"  had  been  received \nof  him,  both  for  his  \"  integrity  and  sufficiency,  as \nbeing  one  every  way  well-fitted  and   accomplished \n\n\nSUNDHY  DIVINES  INTERESTED.  25 \n\nfor  the  place  of  governor,\"  and  accordingly  he  was \nchosen  with  full  consent,  and  immediately  took  the \nprescribed  oath  of  ofifice. \n\nThis  was  an  unlooked-for  turn  in  affairs,  and  the \nnew  governor  wrote  to  his  wife  that  he  was  called  to \na  further  trust  in  the  business  of  the  plantation  than \nhe  either  expected  or  found  himself  fitted  for  ;  but \nhe  added  that  he  was  cheerful  and  in  health.  Re- \nferring to  the  same  matter  a  few  years  later,  he  said \nthat  there  were  other  gentlemen  of  more  ability  and \nfar  greater  adaptedness  for  the  position  than  he ;  but \nhis  associates  differed  with  him,  and  he  modestly \naccepted  their  verdict.  A  few  days  were  allowed \nfor  some  necessary  work,  and  then  the  governor  re- \nturned to  Groton  for  a  brief  visit  to  his  wife  ;  but \neven  there  his  time  was  largely  occupied  with  mat- \nters connected  with  the  momentous  step  that  he \nwas  about  to  take,  and  with  efforts  that  he  thought \nnecessary  to  make  to  engage  other  suitable  persons \nto  go  to  New  England  with  him. \n\nThe  few  days  passed  with  his  family  were  pre- \nliminary to  still  more  severe  labors  in  preparation. \nA  circular-letter  was  addressed  from  London  on  the \ntwenty-seventh  of  October,  to  sundry  divines  of  the \nPuritan  faith,  inviting  them  to  convene  on  the  ninth \nof  the  following  month  for  the  purpose  of  selecting \n\"  able  and  sufficient  ministers  to  join  in  the  work  \" \nof  colonization.*  Plans  were  also  made  to  provide \na  godly  and  able  surgeon  to  go  to  New  England  that \nspring.      At   about   this   time   there   was   a   notable \n\n*  This  letter  is  found  in  the  \"  Life  and  Letters  of  John  Winthrop,\" \nvol.  i.,  p.  354. \n\n\n26  GETTING  READY  FOR  A    VOYAGE. \n\nchange  in  the  personality  of  the  company.  Those \nwho  had  wished  to  have  an  interest  in  a  business \nconcern  seem  now  to  have  desired  to  withdraw,  and \ntheir  places  were  taken  by  men  of  the  serious  and \nreligious  sort — the  more  discreet  persons  mentioned \nby  Gorges. \n\nThe  ninth  of  November  came  and  passed,  and \napparently  the  proposed  conference  of  ministers \ntook  place  ;  at  any  rate,  at  a  meeting  of  the  com- \npany, held  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  that  month,  two \nearnest  Puritan  divines,  Mr.  Joseph  Archer  and  Mr. \nPhilip  Nye,  were  received  as  freemen,  and  Mr.  Na- \nthaniel Ward  *  was  recommended  for  admission. \nMeantime  Winthrop  was  writing  to  his  good  wife \nthat  he  was  pressed  by  \"  much  business \" ;  that \n\"divers  great  persons\"  had  been  questioned,  but \nthe  cause  was  yet  uncertain ;  that  ofBcial  work  came \nfast  upon  him,  and  he  could  set  no  time  for  his  re- \nturn to  Groton  ;  but  he  blessed  God  for  giving  him \na  wife  who  was  a  help  and  encouragement  in  his \nwork,  \"  wherein  so  many  wives  are  so  great  an \nhindrance  \"  to  their  husbands. \n\nWhile  the  multiplied  cares  of  the  preparation  were \nupon  him,  Mr.  Winthrop  was  called  to  give  advice \nto  his  sister-in-law,  Priscilla  Fones,  about  the  delicate \nattentions  she  w^as  receiving  from  the  Rev.  Henry \n\n*  This  Mr.  Ward  afterwards  compiled  a  code  of  laws  for  the \ncolony,  called  the  \"  Body  of  Liberties  \";  he  is  best  known,  however, \nas  author  of  \"The  Simple  Cobbler  of  Agawam,\"  a  quaint  and \npedantic  treatise  on  the  license  that  he  professed  to  find  in  New \nEngland.  He  did  not  come  over  until  1634,  being  finally  instigated \nby  a  sentence  of  excommunication  pronounced  upon  him  by  Laud, \nBishop  of  London. \n\n\nPRISCILLA    IS  IMPORTUNED.  2\"] \n\nPainter,  of  Exeter,  afterwards  a  member  of  the  cele- \nbrated Westminister  Assembly  of  divines  ;  and  to \nhis  son  Forth,  who  wished  to  marry  Ursula,  \"  my \naunt  Fones,  her  daughter.\"  On  the  seventeenth  of \nNovember  widow  Priscilla  wrote  that  in  her  suitor \nshe  saw  the  traits  that  she  chiefly  aimed  at  in  a  hus- \nband, \"  grace  and  godliness,  with  gifts  suitable  to  his \ncalling,\"  though  in  outward  estate  he  came  short  of \nany  that  had  yet  been  moved  to  her ;  but  that  in \nspite  of  all  his  virtues,  she  desired  to  hear  no  more \nof  the  suit,  though  all  her  friends  persuaded  her  that \nit  would  be  best  for  her  to  change  her  estate.  The \nreverend  man's  importunity  and  \"  pains  in  coming \nso  far\"  bred  such  distraction  of  mind  in  her  that  she \nknew  not  what  to  do,  and  she  confessed  that  she  was \nvery  fearful  about  changing  her  condition. \n\nOn  the  same  day  Fones  Winthrop  wrote  to  his \nfather  that  he  used  his  pen  because  letters  could  not \nblush,  and  that  bashfulness  would  seal  up  his  mouth \nin  silence  were  he  to  attempt  to  speak  on  the  tender \ntopic.  He  plainly  entertained  no  doubts  about \nchanging  his  condition,  but  expressed  himself  as  not \nwishing  to  undertake  any  enterprise  of  moment \nwithout  his  father's  knowledge,  consent,  and  license, \nthough  he  did  desire  to  be  blessed  in  time  by  the \n\"holy  ordinance  of  marriage\"  with  his  fair  cousin. \nAlas  for  the  hopes  of  poor  Ursula  and  her  loving \ncousin  Forth,  he  died  not  many  months  later,  and \nshe  was  left  almost  a  widow.  The  course  of  the \nloves  of  Priscilla  and  Henry  seems  to  have  run \nsmooth,  for,  after  a  little  diplomacy,  they  were  duly \nmarried. \n\n\n28  GETTING  READY  FOR   A     VOYAGE. \n\nA  week  later  Mr.  Winthrop  writes  to  his  wife  that \nthe  Rev.  John  Cotton,  of  Boston,  might  be  expected \nat  Groton  on  \"  Thursday  or  Friday,\"  and  that  she \nought  to  get  him  to  stay  a  night  if  she  could.  At \nthe  Christmas-tide  Winthrop  was  absent  from  Lon- \ndon, presumably  spending  the  time  with  his  house- \nhold at  Groton  ;  though  he  was  again  in  the  capital \nhard  at  work  by  the  middle  of  January,  but  enjoying \n\"  fowls,  puddings,  etc.,\"  that  his  good  wife  had  sent \nto  him.  All  his  thoughts  were  turned  towards \nthe  great  venture,  the  time  for  which  was  fast \napproaching. \n\nWinthrop  promises  his  wife  to  leave  fifteen  hun- \ndred pounds  with  his  friends  for  her  support  until \nshe  should  be  able  to  follow  him  to  the  New  World, \n— an  ample  sum,  surely,  if  we  take  into  consideration \nthe  greater  value  of  money  at  the  time.  John  Win- \nthrop, junior,  who  had  been  as  we  know  a  great \ntraveller,  and  had  an  ingenious  mind,  writes  to  his \nfather  at  this  time  about  \"  a  rude  model  \"  of  a  wind- \nmill that  he  had  invented,  which  he  thought  might \nbe  \"  applied  to  many  laborious  uses,  as  any  kind  of \nmills,  corn-mills,  saw-mills,  etc.,\"  and  he  desired  that \nNew  England  should  reap  the  benefit,  \"  for  whose \nsake,\"  indeed,  he  said,  \"  it  was  invented.  Et  soli \nDeo  gloria^ \n\nThe  letters  from  husband  to  wife  become  more \nand  more  tender  as  the  moment  for  separation  gets \nnearer  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  all  the  pathos  of  parting \ncomes  an  intimation  that  good  sister  Priscilla  hath \nwritten  so  earnestly  to  the  reverend  suitor  not  to \ntrouble  her  more  that  she  fears  he  will  take  her  in \n\n\nGLIMPSES  OF  COURTSHIP.  29 \n\nearnest  and  not  appear  again,  for  which  cause  the \ngrave  president  of  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  Bay- \nis  besought  to  \"  send  him  word  to  come  as  soon  as \nhe  can,\"  for  the  coy  widow  would  speak  with  him. \nThe  glimpses  of  courtship  that  we  catch  in  the  hurry \nof  preparations  for  the  serious  enterprise  of  another \nsort,  and  among  the  tender  and  pathetic  words  pass- \ning from  husband  and  wife,  give  a  dash  of  humanity \nto  the  picture  that  is  delightful  to  be  observed  in  the \nlife  of  the  hero  and  the  heroine  of  the  tale  of  these \nstern  Puritan  pioneers. \n\nFebruary  opens,  and  Winthrop  says  to  Margaret  : \n\"  My  sweet  wife,  thy  love  is  such  to  me,  and  so  great \nis  the  bond  between  us,  that  I  should  neglect  all \nothers  to  hold  correspondency  of  letters  with  thee. \n\n.  .  I  purpose,  if  God  will,  to  be  with  thee  upon \nThursday  come  se'nnight,  and  then  I  must  take  my \nfarewell  of  thee  for  a  summer's  day  and  a  winter's \nday.  The  Lord  our  God  will,  I  hope,  send  us  a  happy \nmeeting  again  in  his  good  time.  ...  I  wrote  to \nMr.  P.\" \n\nA  few  days  later  he  writes  :  \"  My  sweet  wife,  I \nwrote  to  thee  yesterday,  and  this  day  our  company \nhath  spent  in  prayer  and  fasting,  and  the  Lord  hath \nbeen  pleased  to  assist  us  graciously  ;  blessed  be  his \nname  ;  I  doubt  not  but  thou  and  all  our  family  shall \nhave  part  in  the  answer  of  our  prayers.  This  even- \ning, about  ten  of  the  clock,  Mr.  Painter  came  to  me: \nhe  intends  to  be  at  Groton  on  Tuesday  next.\"  We \nmay  suppose  that  the  matter  between  \"  Mr.  P.\"  and \nPriscilla  was  settled  \"  on  Tuesday.\" \n\nThe  last  week  in  February  was  the  time  that  John \n\n\n30  GETTING  READY  FOR  A    VOYAGE. \n\nWinthrop  made  his  final  visit  to  Groton.  Soon  after, \nhe  went  from  London  to  Southampton,  where  he  took \nship  for  America  on  the  twenty-second  of  March;  but \nthere  were  tedious  detentions,  owing  to  adverse \nwinds,  and  it  was  not  until  April  8th  that  they \nweighed  anchor  and  the  long  voyage  actually  began. \nAll  this  time  there  was  as  brisk  a  correspondence \nbetween  husband  and  wife  as  the  circumstances  ad- \nmitted, and  in  one  of  the  latest  letters  of  the  husband, \nwritten  from  aboard  the  Arbella  off  Cowes,  March \n28,  1630,  among  loving  messages  for  many  friends \nand  relatives,  there  occurs  this  sentence  :  \"  Mondays \nand  Fridays  at  five  of  the  clock  at  night  we  shall \nmeet  in  spirit  till  we  meet  in  person.\"  \"  And  now,  my \nsweet  soul,\"  he  adds,  \"  I  must  once  again  take  my \nlast  farewell  of  thee  in  old  England.  It  goeth  very \nnear  my  heart  to  leave  thee.  .  .  .  Thine  where- \nsoever, Jo  :  Winthrop.\" \n\nWhile  the  ships  were  detained  by  adverse  winds, \nthe  leaders  of  the  company  prepared  a  document \nwhich  they  left  behind  to  be  printed  and  distributed, \nfor  the  removal  of  suspicions  and  misconstructions \nof  their  intentions.  In  this  noble  and  pathetic  paper \nwe  have  the  fundamental  thoughts  by  which  all  theii \ncourse  was  to  be  directed,  by  which  it  had  already \nbeen  guided.  Addressing  \"the  rest  of  their  brethren \nin  and  of  the  Church  of  England,\"  they  express  a \nsuspicion  that  there  may  be  among  them  some \nwanting  in  \"tenderness  of  affection  \"  towards  them., \nor  not  having  clear  enough  intelligence  of  their \ncourse  to  be  able  to  appreciate  their  peculiar  way, \nand  to  these  they  attempt  to  explain  their  course. \n\n\nLOVE  FOR    THE   CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.         3 1 \n\nWhile  devotedly  attached  to  the  church  of  their \nfathers,  they  evidently  made  a  distinction  between \nthose  traits  in  it  which  they  conceived  to  be  funda- \nmental, and  those  that  were  of  secondary  importance, \nclinging  to  the  one  class  and  having  no  sympathy \nwhatever  with  the  other.* \n\nEvidently  the  members  of  Winthrop's  band  felt \nmuch  as  those  who  went  with  Francis  Higginson \nfelt,  when  they  united  with  him  in  saying  they  went \nto  the  New  World  not  as  \"  Separatists  from  the \nChurch  of  England,\"  though  they  owned  that  they \ncould  but  separate  themselves  from  the  corruptions \nin  it ;  in  order  that  they  might  \"  practice  the  positive \npart  of  the  Church  reformation,  and  to  propagate \nthe  Gospel  in  America.\"  John  Winthrop  could \ntruly  write:  \"We  esteem  it  our  honor  to  call  the \nChurch  of  England  our  dear  mother;  and  cannot \npart  from  our  native  country,  where  she  specially \nresideth,  without  much  sadness  of  heart  and  many \ntears  in  our  eyes.\"  He  had  been  for  too  many  years \nan  humble  and  faithful  worshipper  in  the  parish \nchurch  at  Groton  to  renounce  the  communion  of  his \nfathers,  and  the  very  next  year  he  refused  to  gratify \nRoger  Williams,  who  wished  the  men  of  Boston  to \nmake  a  public  declaration  of  repentance  for  having \nhad  communion  with  the  churches  of  England. \nWinthrop  not  only  never  repented  of  this,  but  he \ndoubtless  gloried  in  it.  The  gentlemen  of  the \nMassachusetts  colony  were  so  careful  in  this  respect \nthat  when  the  Rev.  Ralph   Smith  desired  to  go  to \n\n*  On  this  point  see  \"  The  Puritan  Age  and  Rule  in  tlie  Colony  of \nthe  Massachusetts  Bay,\"  by  George  E.  Ellis,  D.D.,  chap,  ii.,  es- \npecially p.  54. \n\n\n32  GETTING   READY  FOR   A     VOYAGE. \n\nSalem  with  Higginson,  he  was  only  permitted  to  do \nso  upon  giving  an  agreement  in  writing  not  to  preach \nin  public  or  in  private  without  the  governor's  per- \nmission, because  there  was  suspicion  that  he  was  a \n\"  Separatist  \"  ;  whereby,  it  appears,  says  the  historian \nHubbard,  \"  how  apprehensive  the  first  founders  of \nthe  Massachusetts  were  of  any  that  might  become \nan  occasion  of  disturbance  \"  on  this  ground.* \n\nWhile  the  ships  of  the  expedition  were  anchored \noff  Cowes,  the  governor  began  a  diary  that  be- \ncame the  mine  from  which  the  early  history  of \nMassachusetts  has  been  dug.  He  dated  the  first \nentry  \"  Easter  Monday,  March  29,  1629-30.\"  This \njournal  was  continued  up  to  a  short  time  before \nits  author's  death,  and  though  there  are  many  gaps \nwhich  wei:e  intended  to  be  filled  when  an  opportunity \nof  leisure  arrived,  it  is  very  full,  and  deeply  interesting. \n\nEleven  or  twelve  vessels  of  different  sizes  were \nprovided  to  transport  the  company,  among  which \nwere  the  Arbella,  named  in  honor  of  Mrs.  Johnson, \nand  the  Mayflower,  which  had  carried  the  Pilgrims \nto  Plymouth  ten  years  before.  Only  four  of  these \nwere  ready  to  sail  at  the  appointed  time.  The \nArbella  was  one,  and  on  its  deck,  on  the  sixth  of \nApril,  Mr.  Cradock  said  his  last  farewell  to  his \nsuccessor  in  office,  and  from  its  \"  steerage \"  the \ncaptain  fired  three  shots  \"  for  a  farewell,\"  before  the \nparty  steered  out  into  the  broad  Atlantic,  not  to \ncast  anchor  again  until  the  seventy-sixth  day,  Satur- \nday, the  twelfth  of  June. \n\n*  Mr.  Smith  verified  these  suspicions.  He  went  to  Plymouth  and \n\"  exercised  his  gifts,\"  but  even  the  Separatists  there  were  forced  to \nask  him  to  \"  lay  down  his  niinistr}',\"  and  he  returned  to  Massachu- \nsetts to  give  trouble. \n\n\nIV. \n\nTHE   FOUNDING   OF   BOSTON. \n\nThe  voyage  to  America  was  no  pleasure  excursion. \nWe  may  well  imagine  the  serious  occupations  of  the \npassengers  in  the  several  vessels.  It  was  a  long  time \nbefore  such  trips  were  taken  with  regularity  and \nwithout  trepidation.  The  laws  of  ocean  navigation \nwere  not  well  understood  ;  international  law  even \nwas  in  its  infancy,  (Hugo  Grotius  had,  in  fact,  laid  its \nfoundations  but  five  years  before  this);  pirates  like \nSir  Francis  Drake  were  universally  honored  ;  and  ves- \nsels sailing  on  the  broad  ocean  as  those  of  Winthrop's \nfleet  sailed  were  open  to  attack  from  any  adventurous \ncaptain,  carrying  a  different  flag,  who  thought  him- \nself stronger  than  they. \n\nThe  ten  dreary  weeks  of  the  voyage  of  Winthrop \nwere  marked  by  Sundays  sacred  to  the  completest \nrest  and  the  most  earnest  devotional  services ;  and \nby  \"  frequent  and  constant  religious  exercises  of \ncatechism,  prayer  and  preaching,  on  Sundays  and \nweek-days,\"  which  Dr.  Ellis  thinks  must  have  tried \nthe  patience  of  the  sailors  and  servants  as  much  as \nthey  \"  fed  the  joys  of  piety  in  the  consecrated  hearts \nof  the  exiles.* \n\n*  The  \"  Puritan  Age  and  Rule,\"  p.  56. \n33 \n\n\n34  THE  FOUNDING   OF  BOSTON. \n\nMr.  Winthrop  was  wont  to  exercise  himself  in \n\"prophesying,\"  as  sermonizing  was  then  called,  and \nhe  has  left  a  discourse  entitled  \"  A  Model  of  Christian \nCharity,\"  which  is  probably  a  record  of  some  of  his \nefforts  on  board  the  Arbella.  In  this  sermon  there \nwas  an  elaborate  discussion  of  Christian  charity, \nmarked  by  the  tender  traits  which  we  have  observed \nin  its  author's  correspondence,  followed  by  careful \ndeductions  as  to  the  mode  of  living  by  which  its \nteachings  were  to  be  made  the  foundation  of  a  comi- \nmonwealth  that  should  \"  be  a  praise  and  a  glory,\" \nand  not  \"  open  the  mouths  of  enemies  to  speak  evil \nof  the  ways  of  God,  and  all  professors  for  God's \nsake.\"  \"  We  must  be  willing,\"  he  said,  \"  to  abridge \nourselves  of  our  superfluities,  for  the  supply  of \nother's  necessities  ;  we  must  uphold  a  familiar  com- \nmerce together  in  all  meekness,  gentleness,  patience, \nand  liberality  ;  we  must  delight  in  each  other,  make \nother's  condition  our  own,  rejoice  together,  mourn \ntogether,  labor  and  suffer  together,  always  having \nbefore  our  eyes  our  commission  and  community  in \nthe  work.\" \n\nThere  were  dangers  from  violent  storms,  which \nmight  destroy  greater  vessels  than  theirs  ;  and  on \none  Lord's  Day  we  read  in  Winthrop's  diary  that \nthe  tempest  continued  all  the  day,  \"  and  the  sea \nraged  and  tossed  exceedingly  ;  yet,  through  God's \nmercy,  we  were  very  comfortable,  and  few  or  none \nsick,  but  had  opportunity  to  keep  the  Sabbath,  and \nMr.  Phillips  preached  twice  that  day.\"  The  greatest \nalarm  overtook  the  Arbella  soon  after  they  left  Yar- \nmouth, where  they  had  been  told  that  ten  sail  of \n\n\nAN  EXCITING  INCIDENT.  35 \n\n**  Dunkirkers  \"  '^  were  awaiting  their  coming.  On  a \ncertain  morning  eight  ships  were  seen  astern,  having \nmore  wind  than  the  Winthrop  fleet,  and  coming  up \napace.  The  gun-room  and  gun-deck  of  the  Arbella \nwere  cleared,  all  hammocks  were  taken  down,  ord- \nnance was  loaded,  powder-chests  were  made  ready, \ntwenty-five  landmen  were  quartered  among  the  sea- \nmen, appointed  for  muskets,  and  duly  written  down \nfor  their  respective  quarters.  The  race  continued \nuntil  noon  came,  and  the  pursuers  were  still  gaining. \nPreparation  was  then  made  for  a  fight  ;  cabins  that \nstood  in  the  way  of  managing  the  guns  were  taken \nhastily  down  ;  beds,  and  all  other  kinds  of  inflamma- \nble articles  that  were  likely  to  take  fire,  were  cast \ninto  the  sea  ;  the  long-boats  were  heaved  out  ;  the \nLady  Arbella  and  the  other  women  and  the  children \nwere  removed  to  the  lower  deck  for  safety  ;  and  the \nmen  were  armed  with  muskets  and  other  weapons \nand  with  instruments  for  fire-works.  Then,  for  an \nexperiment,  the  captain  (Peter  Milborne)  \"  shot  a  ball \nof  wild-fire,  fastened  to  an  arrow,  out  of  a  cross-bow, \nwhich  burnt  in  the  water  a  good  time.\"  All  things \nbeing  thus  fitted,\"  says  Winthrop,  \"  we  went  to \nprayer  upon  the  upper  deck,\"  where  they  might \nwatch  as  well  as  pray,  doubtless,  for  these  heroes \nnever  forgot  that  they  needed  not  only  to  trust  in \nGod,  but  also  to  keep  their  powder  dry.  This  was \nthe  traditional  advice  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  though \ngiven  some  years  later. \n\n*  \"  England  was  at  war  with  Spain  at  the  time  ;  and  Spanish \ncruisers  seem  to  have  been  swarming  about  Dunkirk  and  other  ports \nof  the  Spanish  Netherlands.\" — \"Life  and  Letters  of  John  Win- \nthrop,\" vol.  ii.,  p.  14. \n\n\n36  THE  FOUNDING   OF  BOSTON. \n\nThe  approaching  ships  were  eight  against  four, \nand  the  emigrants  thought  that  the  moments  were \nserious  ;  but  not  a  woman  or  a  child  or  a  man  showed \nfear,  for,  as  Winthrop  writes,  their  confidence  was  in \nthe  Lord  of  Hosts,  \"  and  the  courage  of  our  captain \nand  his  care  and  diHgence  did  much  encourage  us.\" \nIt  was  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the \ncaptain  found  the  strangers  were  within  a  league  of \nhim,  and  not  wishing  that  the  issue  should  come  in \nthe  night,  he  decided  to  show  that  he  had  no  fear. \nHe  therefore  tacked  about  and  stood  to  meet  the \neight  vessels,  when,  to  the  great  joy  bf  all,  they  were \nperceived  to  be  friends.  \"  Every  ship,  as  they  met, \nsaluted  each  other,  and  the  musketeers  discharged \ntheir  small  shot,\"  and  the  dread  and  danger  was \nturned  into  \"  mirth  and  friendly  entertainment.\" \n\nThus  the  days  passed,  in  prayers  for  blessings  to \ncome,  in  thankfulness  for  blessings  received  and  dan- \ngers passed,  in  careful  instructions  and  encourage- \nment, in  hope  for  and  thoughtful  discussion  of  the \ncountry  they  were  going  to  and  the  biblical  com- \nmonwealth they  expected  to  found.  Every  changing \nphase  of  nature  was  carefully  noticed  ;  and  Mr.  Win- \nthrop sets  down  in  his  journal  some  of  the  phenom- \nena that  he  observed,  as,  for  example,  that  when \nthey  were  at  a  distance  of  two  hundred  leagues  from \nland,  they  encountered  fowls  flying  and  swimming  ; \nthat  the  sun  did  not  give  so  much  heat  as  in  Eng- \nland ;  that  cold  weather  came  with  the  winds  from \nwhatsoever  direction  they  blew  ;  that  the  new  moon, \nwhen  it  first  appeared,  was  smaller  than  in  England  ; \nand  that  the  pole  star  was  much  beneath  what  it  was \n\n\nSTRA  VV BERRIES  AT  CAPE  ANN.  37 \n\nin  England.  They  were  not  tedious  days,  we  may \nsuppose,  though  we  may  be  sure  that  the  adven- \nturers were  not  sorry  when  at  last,  on  the  seventy- \nsecond  day,  \"  there  came  a  smell  of  the  shore,  like \nthe  smell  of  a  garden,\"  and  when,  four  days  later, \nthey  were  able  to  drop  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Salem. \n\nFiring  off  two  pieces  of  ordnance,  they  sent  a  skiff \nto  the  ship  of  William  Peirce  of  London,  which  they \nsaw,  and  he  came  on  board,  and  afterwards  returned \nto  bring  Governor  Endicott  to  them.  There  was  a \nfriendly  welcome  to  the  new-comers,  and  they  were \ninvited  to  go  ashore,  where  the  assistants  and  some \nother  gentlemen  and  the  women  supped  on  a  \"  good \nvenison  pasty  and  good  beer.\"  At  night  most  of \nthem  returned  to  the  ship,  though  the  women,  \"  like \nNoah's  dove,  finding  sure  footing  on  the  firm  land, \nreturned  no  more  to  their  ark  floating  on  the  unsta- \nble waves.\"  The  more  common  people  on  board \ntook  the  occasion  to  go  ashore  on  the  other  side  of \nthe  harbor  towards  Cape  Ann,  where  they  had  as \ngood  a  feast  on  fresh  strawberries  as  the  gentlefolk \nhad  on  their  pasty  and  beer.  The  following  day \nGovernor  Winthrop  first  saw  the  natives  of  the  land, \nfor  Masconomo,  sagamore  of  the  Agawam,  came  on \nboard  and  spent  the  day,  bidding  the  party  a  cheer- \nful welcome  to  the  land  from  which  the  tribes  of  his \nfathers  were  fast  fading  away.  Almost  the  first  news \nreceived  on  landing  was  that  there  had  been  a  gen- \neral conspiracy  among  the  natives  a  few  months \nprevious  looking  to  the  extirpation  of  all  the  white \nfaces. \n\nThough  but  two  ships  of  the  fleet  had  then  arrived \n\n\n38  THE  FOUNDING   OF  BOSTON. \n\nat  Salem,  there  was  a  formal  \"  landing,\"  and  proper \nsalutes  were  fired  in  honor  of  the  governor  and  his \nparty.  The  prospect  was  dismal  for  Winthrop. \nHigginson  was  wasting  under  a  hectic  fever  ;  eighty \nof  those  who  had  come  with  him  had  died  during \nthe  winter  ;  many  others  w^ere  sick  and  weak  ;  the \nsupplies  were  almost  exhausted,  and  the  remnant  of \nthe  emigrants,  threatened  by  famine,  now  thronged \nabout  the  new  arrivals  begging  for  bread.  No  won- \nder that  we  read  that  the  place  pleased  Winthrop \nnot,  though  the  valiant  and  enthusiastic  Captain \nJohn  Smith  had  said  of  it :  \"  Of  all  the  parts  of  the \nworld  I  have  yet  seen  not  inhabited,  I  would  rather \nlive  here  than  anywhere.\" \n\nWithout  delay  the  governor  and  some  of  the  prin- \ncipal men  started  on  foot  to  look  for  a  more  suitable \nplace  for  the  new  settlement,  expecting  to  find  it  \"  at \nthe  bottom  of  the  bay.\"  It  was  the  seventeenth  of \nJune,  now  memorable  for  another  event  annually \ncelebrated  on  that  spot.  They  visited  Mr.  Samuel \nMaverick,  who  was  well  established  in  the  first  per- \nmanent house  in  the  Bay  colony  at  Winnisimmet, \nnow  Chelsea  *  ;  Mr.  Thomas  Walford,  at  Charton  or \nCharleton  ;  and,  perhaps,  Mr.  Blaxton,  or  Blackstone, \ndomesticated  in  a  cottage  on  the  w^estern  shore  of \nShawmut.  These  were  Church-of-England  men  who \nhad  come  out  in  1623,  under  Robert  Gorges,  sup- \nported by  the  whole  power  of  the  Council  for  New \n\n*  It  has  long  been  held  that  Maverick  erected  his  house  on  Nod- \ndle's Island  ;  but  Judge  Mellen  Chamberlain  has  shown  that  it  was \nat  Winnisimmet. — See  Transactions  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical \nSociety,  Jan.,  1885. \n\n\n,< \n\no \n\nt- \n\nU) \n\no \n\npa \n\nH \n\n(fi \n\n< \n\nK \n\n>< \n\n< \n\nQ \n\n?; \n\n< \n\no \n\nH \n\nz \n\nt/i \n\no \n\nO \n\nP3 \n\nc \n\nZ \n\ntn \n\nU \n\n< \n\nu \n\npa \n\n^ \n\n, \n\n^ \n\nH \n\nhH \n\n^ \n\nW \n\nJ \n\n^ \n\nK \n\n< \n\n^ \n\nO \n\n< \n\n^ \n\na. \n\nE \n\nw \n\nc/: \n\nX \n\n< \n\n\" \n\nH \n\n^H \n\n^ \n\nfa \n\n<-- \n\nO \n\n< \n\nO \n\nBi \n\nJ \n\nX \n\nfc \n\nJ \n\n►r \n\nBi' \n\nx \n\nO \n\nec \n\n> \n\n^ \n\ne; \n\npa \n\n^ \n\n< \nX \n\nC \nz \n\nfa \n\nz \n\nH \n\nO \n\no \n\nZ \n\n< \n\no \n\nPh \n\noa \n\n^ \n\nZ \n\n3 \n\nf- \n\nz \n\nu \n\n< \n\nu \n\n>-) \n\ns \n\nfa \n\no \n\n0< \n\nc/: \n\nfa \n\n\"pu \n\nO \n\ntf \n\nX \n\nf- \n\nz \n\n40  THE  FOUNDING   OF  BOSTON. \n\nEngland.*  The  party  returned  by  way  of  Nantas- \nket,  where  Winthrop  was  called  upon  to  settle  a \ndifficulty  that  had  arisen  between  the  emigrants  who \nhad  come  by  the  ship  Mary  and  Jolui  and  Captain \nSqueb,  who,  though  under  contract  to  deliver  his \nhuman  freight  at  the  mouth  of  the  Charles  River, \nhad  left  them  at  Nantasket  at  the  end  of  May,  in  a \nmerciless  way,  as  they  thought.  At  the  governor's \nsummons,  the  captain  came  ashore  and  the  trouble \nwas  quickly  settled.  It  was  difficult  at  that  day  to \ndetermine  where  \"the  mouth  of  the  Charles  River\" \nwas,  and  it  seems  that  there  were  obstacles  in  the \nway  of  navigating  the  river  itself  with  a  vessel  of  the \nsize  of  the  one  the  captain  commanded. \n\nThe  result  of  this  little  trip  of  three  days  was  that \nWinthrop  determined  to  settle  at  Charleton  ;  but \nthere  was  so  much  sickness  and  distress  that  the \nothers  did  not  all  follow  his  example,  but  for  one \nreason  and  another  settled  \"  dispersedly,\"  as  Thomas \nDudley,  the  deputy-governor,  wrote  in  his  account  of \nthe  beginnings  of  the  Massachusetts  colony.  Some \nplanted  on  the  Mystic,  at  what  is  now  Medford  ; \nsome  at  VVatertown  ;  and  still  others  at  Roxbury  f \nand  Dorchester.  This  dispersion  troubled  the  minds \nof  some  of  them,  \"  but  help  it  we  could  not,\"  said \nDudley,  and  the  time  was  \"  too  short  to  deliberate \nany  longer,  lest  the  winter  should  surprise  \"  them, \nbefore  they  had  built  forts  or  houses,  to  protect  them \nfrom  the  Indians  as  well  as  from  the  wet  and  cold. \n\n*  Winsor's  \"  Memorial  History,\"  vol.  i.,  p.  75. \nf  Named  Rocksbury  on  account  of  the  rough  and  rocky  surface  of \nits  territory. \n\n\nTHE   GREAT  HOUSE   AT  CHARLETON.  4 1 \n\nThe  twelfth  of  July  is  given  as  the  date  of  the  be- \nginning of  Charlestovvn,  where  Winthrop,  Salton- \nstall,  Dudley,  Wilson,  Bradstreet,  and  others  with \ntheir  followers  took  up  their  abodes  as  promptly  as \npossible,  though  it  appears  to  have  been  several \nweeks  before  they  all  accomplished  the  work  of  re- \nmoval. The  governor  and  several  of  the  members \nof  the  company  occupied  the  \"  Great  House,\"  as  it \nwas  called,  which  they  found  ready  for  them,  and  the \nmultitude  lived  in  uncomfortable  tents  and  booths, \nwhich  they  set  up  on  Town  Hill.  Those  were  dis- \nmal days  :  the  long  passage  had  fixed  sickness  and \nscurvy  upon  the  emigrants ;  the  wet  lodgings  in- \ncreased the  distempers  ;  a  lack  of  fresh  water  made \nmatters  worse,  and  now  there  was  not  a  hut  in  which \nthere  was  not  lamentation  and  woe  for  the  dying  and \nthe  dead.  Many  graves  soon  marked  the  sides  of \nthe  hill.  In  consequence  of  the  great  calamities,  Mr. \nWinthrop  recommended  a  fast  to  be  kept  on  the \nthirtieth  of  July,  at  which  time  also  the  first  church \norganization  was  made,  according  to  the  form  already \nestablished  at  Salem,  on  the  basis  of  separation,  and \nMr.  John  Wilson  was  chosen  pastor. \n\nEvery  thing  seemed  to  indicate  that  Charleton  was \nto  be  the  capital  of  the  colony,*  but  the  kind  heart \n\n*  Edward  Johnson,  in  his  \"  Wonder-Working  Providence,\"  chap- \nter xvii.,  says  that  the  settlers  promptly  determined  to  hold  an  elec- \ntion of  officers,  for  what  reason  we  know  not,  unless  it  was  to  assert \ntheir  independence,  and  that  accordingly  a  court  was  called  for  the \ntwenty-third  of  August  on  board  of  the  Arbella,  on  which  occasion \nthe  form  was  gone  through  with  of  choosing  Mr.  Winthrop  governor, \nand  voting  new  commissions  to  the  officers  who  with  him  had  already \nbeen  elected  by  the  company  in  England. \n\n\n42  THE   FOUNDING   OF  BOSTON. \n\nof  Mr.  Blaxton,  touched  by  the  distress  among  the \nsettlers,  invited  them  to  remove  to  the  three-hilled \npeninsula  (called  Shawmut  and  Tri-mountain),  where \nthere  was  fresh  vv^ater  in  abundance  and  other  advan- \ntages. The  invitation  was  accepted  without  hesita- \ntion ;  the  frame  of  the  governor's  house  was  carried \nover,  and  the  people  transferred  themselves  as  quickly \nas  they  could.  The  new  site  was  an  uneven  rocky \npromontory,  abounding  with  hollows  and  swamps, \nand  connected  with  the  mainland  by  an  isthmus  so \nnarrow  that  the  tide  often  washed  completely  over \nit.  Mr.  Blaxton  won  the  thanks  of  generations  by \nhis  polite  and  Christian  invitation  to  the  sufferers  at \nCharleton. \n\nThe  removal  to  Shawmut  had  so  far  progressed \nby  the  seventh  of  September  that  a  court  of  Assist- \nants was  held  on  that  day,  and  it  was  ordered  that \nthe  name  of  the  settlement  should  be  Boston.  An- \nother court  of  Assistants  was  convened  at  Charleton \non  the  twenty-eighth  of  September  ;  but  after  that \nthe  courts  were  held  at  Boston. \n\nWe  cannot  tell  exactly  when  the  different  settlers \nmade  the  change  of  abode ;  we  do  not  know  even \nwhen  the  governor  himself  removed  ;  but  it  is  certain \nthat  the  movement  was  hastened  by  the  death  of  one \nof  the  most  loved  of  the  company.  Lady  Arbella \nJohnson,  had  died  very  soon  after  the  arrival  at \nSalem,  \"  coming  from  a  paradise  of  pleasure  and \nplenty  in  the  family  of  a  noble  earl,  into  a  wilder- \nness of  wants,\"  taking  \"  New  England  on  her  way  to \nheaven,\"  as  the  quaint  Cotton  Mather  expresses  it. \nOn  the   thirtieth   of    September  the    death    of  Mr. \n\n\nDEATH   OF  MR.  JOHNSON. \n\n\n43 \n\n\nJohnson  occurred,  and  it  cast  a  gloom  over  the \ncolon}-.  His  lot  as  selected  is  that  now  bounded  by \nSchool,  Tremont,  Court,  and  Washington  streets, \ncomprising  the  first  place  of  burial  in  the  town,  and \n\n\nBLAXTON    S    LOT. \n\n\nin  it  he  was  tenderly  laid  to  rest.*  After  this  great \nafifliction  the  work  of  removal  from  Charleton  pro- \ngressed rapidly. \n\n*  This  account  of  Mr.  Johnson's  burial,  given  by  Chief- Justice \nSewall  and  repeated  by  Governor  Hutchinson,  is  doubted  ;  but \nwhether  Mr.  Johnson  -was  buried  there  or  not,  the  spot  became  the \nfirst  place  used  for  such  purposes,  and  for  thirty  years  it  was  the  only \none. — See  Shurtleff's  \"A  Topographical  Description  of  Boston,\" \np.  184. \n\n\n44  THE  FOUNDING   OF  BOSTON. \n\nThus  the  promontory  of  Shawmut  became  the \ncapital  of  New  England,  and  thus  it  received  the \nname  that  it  still  bears,  a  name  first  written  upon \nAmerican  maps  by  Prince  Charles  at  the  solicitation \nof  John  Smith,  but  placed  by  him  at  York,  on  the \ncoast  of  Maine.  It  was  evidently  given  to  its  pres- \nent locality  by  reason  of  the  attachment  felt  by \nmany  of  the  new  inhabitants  for  Boston  in  England, \nover  the  parish  church  of  which  presided  that  John \nCotton  whom  we  have  seen  calling  at  the  Groton \nhome  of  John  Winthrop,  a  man  whom  he  loved  so \ngreatly  that  he  wished  him  to  rest  awhile  beneath \nhis  roof,  even  though  absent  at  the  time  himself. \n\n\n,^^1 \n\n\nV. \n\nMARGARET  WINTHROP  COMES  OVER. \n\nGovernor  Winthrop  left  behind  him  in  Eng- \nland, besides  his  sons  John  and  Forth,  who  werr \nold  enough  to  have  accompanied  him,  but  who  in- \ntended to  wait  until  Mrs.  Winthrop  would  go  with \nthem,  a  son  named  Henry,  who  was  to  have  been \none  of  the  passengers  on  the  Arbclla.  This  mem- \nber of  the  family  had  been  not  in  all  respects  a  son \nafter  his  father's  heart.  He  had  been  quite  an \nadventurer  in  his  youth — he  was  but  twenty-two \nyears  of  age  when  his  father  left  for  America — and \nthere  are  expressions  in  his  father's  letters  whicli \nshow  some  disapproval  of  his  life  and  companion- \nships. Henry  was  among  the  early  planters  on  the \nisland  of  Barbadoes,  where  he  had  been  several \nyears  previously,  and  had  become  involved  in \nschemes  for  trade  and  colonization,  which  appear  to \nhave  proved  unfortunate  for  his  character  as  well  as \nhis  purse  and  his  good  father's  purse.  Doubtless, \nhowever,  he  had  gained  experience  that  would  have \nbeen  of  value  in  the  new  enterprise  of  the  Massachu- \nsetts company. \n\nHenry  went  ashore  while  the  Arbella  was  detained \nby  the  adverse  winds,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining \n\n45 \n\n\n46  MARGARET    WINTHROP   COMES  OVER. \n\nan  additional  supply  of  provisions,  and  on  account  of \nthe  high  sea  was  unable  to  regain  the  vessel  before \nshe  sailed.  He  followed  on  the  Talbot,  another  of \nthe  fleet,  and  reached  Salem  on  the  second  of  July. \nThe  passage  was  a  very  hard  one,  for  the  passengers \nwere  afflicted  by  the  small-pox,  of  which  disease \nfourteen  died  on  the  ocean,  though  Henry  escaped. \nOn  the  day  of  his  arrival  at  Salem  he  was  led  by \ncuriosity  to  visit  some  Indian  wigwams,  and  seeing \na  canoe  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  creek,  he  plunged \ninto  the  stream  to  swim  across  to  obtain  it,  in  order \nto  save  several  miles  of  walking.  He  was  taken \nwith  a  cramp  in  the  water  not  far  from  the  shore, \nand  drowned. \n\nTwo  weeks  later  John  Winthrop  wrote  for  the \nfirst  time  to  his  absent  wife  (from  \"  Charleton  in \nNew  England  \")  by  the  hands  of  Arthur  Tindale,  her \nbrother,  who  had  come  on  the  Arbella,  but  returned \non  the  Lion,  the  first  vessel  that  went  back.  In  this \nletter  he  wasted  no  words,  thinking  that  the  details \nof  the  voyage  would  be  given  by  the  bearer.  He \nsaid : \n\n\"We  had  a  long  and  troublesome  passage,  but  the \nLord  made  it  safe  and  easy  for  us.  ...  I  am  so  over- \nspread with  business  that  I  have  no  time  for  these  or \nother  mine  own  private  occasions.  I  only  write  now  that \nthou  mayest  know  that  I  yet  live,  and  am  mindful  of  thee \nin  all  my  affairs.  .  .  .  My  son  Henry  !  my  son  Henry  ! \nah,  poor  child  !  Yet  it  grieves  me  much  more  for  my \ndear  daughter.  The  Lord  strengthen  and  comfort  her \nheart  to  bear  this  cross  patiently.  ...  I  shall  expect \nthee  next  summer,  if  the  Lord  please,  and  by  that  time \n\n\nPEAS,   PUDDINGS,    AND  FISH. \n\n\n47 \n\n\nI  hope  to  be  provided  for  thy  comfortable  entertainment. \nMy  most  sweet  wife,  be  not  disheartened  ;  trust  in  the \nLord,  and  thou  shalt  see  his  faithfulness.  ...  I  kiss \nand  embrace  thee,  my  dear  wife,  and  all  my  children.\" \n\nCareful  John  Winthrop  wrote  no  more  than  was \nnecessary  by  Arthur :    he   feared    the  letter   might \n\n\nTHE   GREAT    ELM    IN    THE   COMMON.       DESTROYED    IN    1876. \n\nmiscarry,  for  he  found  him  \"the  old  man  still,\" \nwhatever  his  weakness  was ;  but  he  took  another \nopportunity,  a  week  later,  to  give  more  particulars. \nThen  he  added  that  though  the  fare  in  the  New \nWorld  was  but  peas,  puddings,  and  fish,  quite  coarse \nin  comparison  to  what  he  had  been  accustomed  to, \n\n\n48  MARGARET    WINTHROP   COMES  OVER. \n\nit  seemed  sweet  and  wholesome  to  him,  and  he \ncould  truly  say  that  he  desired  nothing  better. \nOther  matters  did  trouble  him,  however,  for  the \nrelief  from  restraint  that  was  felt  by  some  of  the \nemigrants  made  them  restless ;  they  were  not  at  all \nbent  on  the  establishment  of  a  religious  common- \nwealth, and  could  not  all  bring  themselves  to  prac- \ntise the  good  precepts  of  Winthrop  embodied  in  his \n\"  Model  of  Christian  Charity.\"  \"  Satan,\"  he  wrote, \n\"bends  his  forces  against  us,  and  stirs  up  his  instru- \nments to  all  kind  of  mischief,  so  that  I  think  here \nare  some  persons  v/ho  never  showed  so  much  wick- \nedness in  England  as  they  have  done  here.\"  Never- \ntheless, he  urges  Margaret  not  to  be  discouraged  by \nany  thing  that  she  may  hear,  for  he  saw  no  cause  to \nrepent  his  coming,  and  experience  had  showed  that \nthe  tenderest  women  and  the  youngest  children \nmight  safely  be  brought  over. \n\nMr.  Winthrop  gives  careful  instructions  regarding \nthe  voyage  ;  as  that  she  should  be  warmly  clothed, \nhave  a  sufificiency  of  fresh  provisions,  meal,  eggs \n(put  up  in  salt  or  ground  malt),  butter,  oatmeal, \npeas,  and  fruit,  and  strong  chests,  well  locked,  in \nwhich  to  keep  them  on  the  voyage.  Margaret  was \nto  be  sure  to  have  two  or  three  skillets,  frying-pans \nand  stewing-pans,  large  and  small,  drinking-vessels, \npewter  vessels,  a  case  to  boil  a  pudding  in,  a  store  of \nlinen  to  use  at  sea,  and  a  quantity  of  \"  sack,\"  to  be \ndistributed  among  the  sailors.  For  physic  she  was \nto  provide  a  pound  of  Dr.  Wright's  electuary,  and \nsome  other  articles,  as  saltpetre  and  nutmegs,  the \nlatter  to  be  grated  or  sliced  when  used.     For  use  in \n\n\nFAMILY  LETTERS.  49 \n\nthe  colony,  Mrs.  Winthrop  was  desired  to  bring  bed- \nding, linen  and  woollen ;  brass,  pewter,  and  leather \nbottles  ;  drinking-horns,  axes  (whatever  they  cost), \ncandles,  soap,  suet,  and  great  and  small  augers,  \"  and \nmany  other  necessaries  which  I  can't  now  think  of.\" \n\nTo  his  eldest  son,  Winthrop  sends  at  the  same \ntime  a  journal  of  the  voyage,  besides  a  very  long \nbusiness  letter,  in  which  we  find  the  reasons  why  it \nwas  necessary  to  send  home  so  promptly  for  pro- \nvisions, which  one  might  have  supposed  a  rich  new \nland  would  have  supplied,  and  particular  directions \nabout  various  members  of  the  family  and  even  de- \npendents and  others  more  remotely  connected  with \nhim.  As  for  the  country  itself,  he  observes  that  it \ndiffered  little  from  England  ;  that  he  had  noticed \nbut  two  days  more  hot  than  in  Suffolk  ;  that  the \nland  is  as  good  as  he  ever  saw  there,  and  that  he \nhad  observed  none  so  bad  as  he  had  seen  at  home. \n\"  Here  is  sweet  air,  fair  rivers,  and  plenty  of  springs, \nand  the  water  better  than  in  England.  Here  can  be \nno  want  of  any  thing  to  those  who  bring  means  to \nraise  out  of  the  earth  and  sea.\" \n\nNo  doubt  Mr,  Winthrop  believed  all  that  he  wrote \nabout  the  blessings  he  described  ;  but  sometimes  it \nseems  as  though  he  did  not  find  it  quite  easy  to  be \nentirely  happy.  On  the  ninth  of  September,  for \nexample,  he  wrote,  \"  that  though  the  lady  Arbella  is \ndead,  and  good  Mr.  Higginson,  and  my  servant,  old \nWaters,\"  yet  many  mercies  were  mixed  with  the \ncorrections  of  Providence,  and  he  praised  God  that \nhe  had  many  occasions  of  comfort,  though  he  did \nhope  that  the  \"  days  of  affliction\"  would  soon  have \n\n\n50  MARGARET  WINTHROP   COMES   OVER. \n\nan  end,  and  he  sustained  himself  by  saying,  signifi- \ncantly:  \"  It  is  enough  that  we  shall  have  heaven, \nthough  we  should  pass  through  hell  to  it.\"  Winthrop \nmagnified  his  mercies,  and  seems  to  have  repeated  his \nlist  of  them  frequently,  to  keep  his  heart  from  break- \ning under  the  combined  load  of  care  for  the  planta- \ntion, rendered  hard  by  the  instruments  stirred  up \nby  \"  Sathan,\"  his  solicitude  for  his  absent  ones,  and \nhis  sorrows  for  those  whom  he  had  lost.  He  writes: \n\"  I  long  for  the  time  when  I  may  see  thy  sweet  face \nagain,  and  the  faces  of  my  dear  children,\"  though  he \nowned  with  sorrow  that  his  much  business  \"hath \nmade  me  too  often  forget  Mondays  and  Fridays.\" \n\nIt  is  interesting  to  read  the  family  letters  in  con- \nnection with  the  records  of  the  public  meetings,  and \nto  see  that  while  the  governor  was  attending  to  the \ncases  of  discipline  and  doctrine,  he  was  giving  minute \ndetails  to  his  wife  and  son  about  their  approaching \nvoyage.  Thus,  on  the  seventh  of  September,  Thomas \nMorton  was  brought  before  the  court  for  sentence \nand  it  was  ordered  that  he  should  be  \"  set  in  the \nbilboes  and  sent  prisoner  to  England,\"  his  goods \nseized  to  pay  the  charges  of  his  trial  and  to  satisfy \nthe  Indians  whom  he  had  cheated,  and  his  house \nburned  down  in  their  presence  as  a  sign  of  the  dis- \npleasure of  the  well-meaning  with  his  action.  At \nthe  same  time  he  was  writing  to  his  son  to  bring \nforty  hogsheads  of  meal  \"  well  cleansed  from  the \nbran,\"  and  store  of  peas,  cheese,  malt,  oatmeal, \npepper,  ginger,  rugs,  verjuice  (the  juice  of  unripe \nfruits),  oil,  pitch,  tar,  old  cable  to  make  oakum, \ncows,    goats,    sheep,    garlic    and    onions,    alum    and \n\n\nTHE  FIRST   TEMPERANCE  MOVEMENT.        51 \n\naloes,  oiled  skins,  \"  some  worsted  ribbing,  several \nsizes,\"  and  conserve  of  red  roses.  While  he  was \nbeckoning  with  one  hand  to  good  and  true  men  to \ncome  over  from  England,  he  was  signing  a  law  to \nthe  effect  that  \"  No  person  shall  plant  in  any  place \nwithin  the  limits  of  this  patent,  without  leave  from \nthe  governor  and  assistants,  or  a  major  part  of \nthem.\" \n\nThere  are  many  contrasts  in  the  life  of  the  gover- \nnor as  described  in  his  letters  and  in  the  public \nrecords.  On  one  page  we  read:  \"  I  have  lost  twelve \nof  my  family,\"  whom  he  enumerates  ;  the  \"  Lord \nhath  stripped  us  of  some  principal  persons,  Mr. \nJohnson  and  his  lady,\"  etc. ;  and  yet,  \"  My  dear  wife \nwe  are  here  in  a  paradise.  Though  we  have  not \nbeef  and  mutton,  etc.,  yet,  God  be  praised,  we  want \nthem  not,  our  Indian  corn  answers  for  all.  Yet  here \nis  fowl  and  fish  in  great  plenty.\"  On  another  we \nfind  the  governor  forming  himself  into  the  first \nAmerican  temperance  society,  as  he  writes  under \ndate,  October  25,  1630:  \"  The  governor,  upon  con- \nsideration of  the  inconveniences  which  had  grown \nup  in  England  by  drinking  one  to  another,  restrained \nit  at  his  own  table,  and  wished  others  to  do  the  like, \nso  as  it  grew  by  little  and  little  into  disuse.\" \n\nAt  this  period  negotiations  were  in  progress  for \nthe  sale  of  the  homestead  at  Groton,  so  that  the \nfamily  might  be  ready  to  leave  in  the  spring  unin- \ncumbered. In  New  England  the  supply  of  food \nwas  slowly  running  down,  and  there  were  anxious \nthoughts  about  the  welfare  of  the  ship  Lion,  which, \nwe   remember,   had  been  hastily  sent   for  supplies. \n\n\n52  MARGARET    WINTHROP   COMES  OVER. \n\nSix  months  passed  and  the  Lion  did  not  appear. \nWinthrop  had  his  last  batch  of  bread  in  his  oven, \nand  doubtless  the  poorer  inhabitants  of  Boston  were \nnot  so  well  off ;  in  fact,  we  are  told  that  at  the  time \nwhen  the  general  stores  had  been  so  reduced  that  a \nfast  had  been  appointed  to  pray  for  relief,  Mr.  Win- \nthrop was  in  the  act  of  giving  the  last  handful  of \nmeal  from  his  barrel  to  a  poor  man  in  distress,  when \na  ship  was  spied  entering  the  harbor  with  provisions \nenough  for  all.  It  was  the  Lion.  The  fast  was \nturned  to  a  thanksgiving,  and  the  first  regularly \nappointed  Thanksgiving  Day,  held  in  1631,  is  now \ncelebrated  as  the  birthday  of  Washington.  On  the \nLion  there  came  a  young  minister  of  whom  we  shall \nhear  more,  Roger  Williams,  an  Oxford  graduate. \n\nThe  governor  was  now  anxiously  awaiting  the  ar- \nrival of  his  loved  ones.  The  estate  was  at  last  sold \nfor  a  price  smaller  than  it  was  thought  that  it  ought \nto  bring,  and  Winthrop  was  still  sending  to  his  wife \nand  son  the  detailed  instructions  about  sheep-skins \nand  lamb-skins  and  calves-skins  and  hats  and  woollen \ncloth  and  mill-stones,  and  all  the  increasing  list  of \narticles  that  greater  acquaintance  with  the  new  life \ntaught  him  might  be  needed.  Meantime  Sir  Rich- \nard Saltonstall,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wilson,  and  other  good \nfriends  had  left  the  plantation,  some  of  them  never \nto  return,  and  the  responsibilities  of  those  who  re- \nmained were  increased. \n\nOn  the  fourth  of  July,  163 1,  the  governor  launched \na  bark  named  the  Blessing  of  the  Bay,  from  a  place \non  the  Mystic  near  his  summer  home,  the  \"Ten- \nHills  Farm.\"     It  was  on  this  farm  that  the  governor \n\n\nA     WAKEFUL   NIGHT.  53 \n\ntook  an  after-supper  walk  on  the  eleventh  of  Octo- \nber, which  came  near  having  serious  results  for  the \nplantation.  He  took  his  fowling-piece  in  his  hand, \napparently  looking  for  wolves  that  had  been  killing \nhis  stock,  and  when  distant  not  over  a  half  mile  from \nhome  it  became  so  dark  that  he  mistook  his  path, \nand  was  unable  to  find  it  again.  In  his  unsuccessful \nwanderings  he  came  to  an  Indian  hut,  where  he \nmade  a  good  fire  by  means  of  a  \"match,\"  which  he \nalways  carried  in  his  pocket,  and  laid  himself  down \non  some  mats  that  he  found.  (He  is  careful  to  say \nthat  he  always  carried  besides  a  match,  a  compass, \nand  in  summer  some  \"  snakeweed,\"  one  of  the \nuseful  vegetable  astringents.)  Unable  to  sleep,  he \nspent  the  night  singing  psalms,  getting  wood,  and \nwalking  up  and  down.  Near  morning  it  began  to \nrain,  and  the  lost  governor  made  shift  by  means  of \na  long  pole  to  climb  up  into  the  hut,  where  an  In- \ndian squaw  found  him  ;  but  he  barred  her  out, \nthough  she  remained  a  great  while  trying  to  get  in. \nHe  managed  to  find  his  way  home  after  daylight, \nand  learned  that  his  servants  had  been  much  per- \nplexed for  him,  \"  having  walked  about  and  shot  ofT \npieces,  and  halloed  all  the  night,\"  but  he  heard  them \nnot. \n\nThesummer  of  1631  was  almost  passed  before  the \nsale  of  the  homestead  and  the  settlement  of  the \nfamily  affairs  made  it  possible  for  Margaret  Win- \nthrop  to  turn  her  face  westward.  Just  before  that \ntime  she  wrote  to  John  Winthrop,  junior: \n\n\"  My  dear  Son  :  Since  it  hath  pleased  God  to  make  a \nway   for   me,    and   to   give  me  encouragement   for   my \n\n\n54  MARGARET    WINTHROP    COMES   OVER. \n\nvoyage,  and  uphold  my  heart  that  it  faints  not,  I  do  re- \nsolve by  his  assistance  to  cast  myself  upon  him,  and  to \ngo  for  N  :  E  ;  as  speedily  as  I  can  with  any  convenience. \nTherefore,  my  good  son,  let  me  entreat  thee  to  take \norder  for  our  going  as  soon  as  thou  canst,  for  winter  will \ncome  on  apace.\" \n\nIt  is  evident  that  however  much  these  good  emi- \ngrants tried  to  keep  cheerful  in  the  face  of  such  ex- \nperiences as  they  expected  to  encounter,  they  always \nfelt  that  it  was  a  cross,  or,  as  they  said,  a  duty  to \n\"  suffer  what  God  hath  laid  out  for  us,  and  to  be \ncheerful.\" \n\nAs  Mr.  Winthrop  had  been  engaged,  just  before \nhis  voyage,  in  settling  matters  matrimonial,  so  his \ngood  Margaret  was  likewise  employed  before  she \nsailed.    She  writes  of  the  widow  of  Henry  Winthrop : \n\n\"I  rejoice  much  to  hear  that  Mr.  Cottington  bears  such \ngood  affections  to  my  daughter  ;  I  trust  there  will  be \nfurther  proceeding.  I  have  heard  him  very  well  reported \nof,  to  be  a  religious  man  and  one  of  good  means.  [We \nrecollect  that  Mr.  Painter  was  deficient  in  this  respect.] \nMr.  Wilson  had  some  speech  with  me  about  it,  and  did \nvery  much  desire  to  know  her  virtues  ;  I  gave  her  the \nbest  commendations  that  I  could.  I  shall  daily  expect \nhis  coming.  He  shall  be  very  welcome.  P.  S. — As \nsoon  as  I  had  written  these,  Mr.  Cottington  came  to  see \nus,  but  would  not  stay  all  night.  He  hath  not  yet  made \nhis  mind  known  to  my  daughter,  but  is  gone  to  Sudbury \nto  Mr.  Wilson.  I  do  verily  believe  it  will  be  a  match, \nand  she  shall  be  very  happy  in  a  good  husband.\" \n\nWhat  \"  Mr.  Wilson  \"  said  we  are  not  told  ;  but  the \n\n\nA    SECOND  THANKSGIVING.  55 \n\nfair  widow  did  not  become  \"  Mistress  Cottington  \"  ; \none  Robert  Feake  intervened  and  took  her. \n\nIt  was  about  the  middle  of  August  that  the  large \nremnant  of  the  governor's  family,  with  the  exception \nof  two  sons,  Forth  and  Deane,  sailed  for  New  Eng- \nland on  the  same  ship.  Lion,  that  had  several  times \nbefore  made  the  trip.  John  Eliot,  afterwards  the \napostle  to  the  Indians,  was  one  of  the  passengers. \nOn  the  voyage  Margaret's  infant  daughter,  Ann, \ndied  and  was  committed  to  the  deep.  On  the  sec- \nond of  November  William  Peirce,  captain,  arrived  off \nNantasket,  and  was  happy  to  be  the  one  to  present \nto  the  governor  his  good  wife  Margaret,  his  eldest \nson  with  his  wife,  and  the  other  children,  in  good \nhealth,  after  the  dangers  of  the  passage  that  they \nhad  so  much  feared.  The  plantation  was  in  sym- \npathy with  the  loving  husband  and  wife  on  their \nhappy  reunion  ;  they  were  honored  by  volleys  of \nshot  as  they  landed  on  the  fourth  of  November,  and \nfor  divers  days  they  were  presented  \"  great  store  of \nprovisions,  as  fat  hogs,  kids,  venison,  poultry,  geese, \npartridges,  etc.,  so  as  the  like  joy  and  manifestation \nof  love  had  never  been  seen  in  New  England.  It \nwas  a  great  marvel  that  so  much  people  and  such \nstore  of  provisions  could  be  gathered  together  at  so \nfew  hours'  notice.\"  A  week  later  there  was  a  second \nThanksgiving  Day  in  Boston  ;  and  a  few  days  after \nthat  the  governor  of  Plymouth  came  up  to  offer  his \npersonal  congratulations  to  his  \"  much  honored  and \nbeloved  friends.\" \n\n\nVI. \n\n\nTHE   LAY   OF   THE   LAND. \n\n\nThe  physical  aspect  of  Boston  when  Mrs.  Win- \nthrop  and  her  family  approached  it  in  1631  was  quite \ndifferent  from  its  appearance  now,  for  in  the  march \nof  civilization  the  hills  have  been  carried  into  the \nsea,  the  rough  places  have  been  made  smooth,  and \nmany  acres  of  superficial  area  have  been  added  to  the \noriginal  measure.  The  area  at  that  time  was  about \n783  acres, — less  than  that  of  the  territory  bought \nby  the  city  of  New  York  in  1861  for  its  Central \nPark.  The  present  dry  land  in  original  Boston  meas- \nures 1,829  acres;  and  the  total  number  of  acres  in \nthe  city  limits  is  more  than  23,000.  Mr.  Blaxton \nrecommended  the  place  on  account  of  its  good \nsprings  of  water,  and  Winthrop  established  himself \nnear  the  chief  of  these,  which  gave  its  name  to \nSpring  Lane,  the  water  of  which  though  long  since \ndisused  is  thought  to  have  bubbled  up  anew  when \nexcavations  were  made  in  1869  for  the  present  Post- \nOffice. \n\nThe  chief  features,  however,  that  Mrs.  Winthrop \nnoticed,  as  she  entered  the  harbor,  were  the  hills  at \nthe  feet  of  which  the  straggling  houses  of  the  hamlet \nwere  nestled.     At  the  north  end  of  the  promontory \n\n\n56 \n\n\nIN \n\nCO \n\nO \n\n\na \nw \n\nH \nU \n\nw \n\nai \n<! \n1-4 \n\nU \n\nl-H \n\n\nO \n\n\n< \na, \n< \nH \n\n< \n►J \n\n\nP-, \no \nu \n\n\n57 \n\n\n58  THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAND. \n\nstood  Windmill  (now  Copp's)  Hill  ;  to  the  south  ap- \npeared Fort  Hill,  now  completely  cut  away  ;  and \nbetween  them  rose  the  three-topped  Sentry  Hill, \nwhich  changed  its  name  to  Beacon  Hill,  when  in \n1635  the  sentry  who  had  had  his  post  there  gave \nplace  to  the  beacon  which  dominated  the  spot  until \nabout  1811. \n\nThe  promontory  itself  was  divided  into  two  por- \ntions by  coves  which  made  into  its  boundaries  ;  the \nfirst  portion  contained  little  more  than  Copp's  Hill, \nand  was  separated  from  the  rest  by  Mill  Cove  which \nput  in  at  the  north,  and  Town  Cove  on  the  south, \nthe  connection  being  made  more  complete  by  Mill \nCreek  which  very  nearly  followed  the  line  of  Black- \nstone  Street,  as  now  laid  out.  It  has  been  supposed \nthat  at  high  tide  the  waters  of  the  harbor  may  have \nswept  quite  over  the  slight  connecting  link  of  land, \nmaking  an  island  of  Copp's  Hill  and  the  small  terri- \ntory around  its  base. \n\nThe  southerly  and  main  portion  of  the  promontory \ncontained  the  other  hills,  and  it  was  connected  with \nthe  mainland  by  a  neck  much  narrower  even  than \nthat  which  has  just  been  mentioned.  Over  this  neck \nthe  tide  sometimes  flowed,  making  the  whole  pro- \nmontory an  island.  Thus  there  was  but  one  road \nleading  from  the  town  to  the  neighboring  villages. \nIt  was  at  first  known  simply  as  High  or  Main \nStreet,  and  at  a  later  period,  when  it  had  become  of \nsufficient  dignity  to  receive  names,  it  was  called  Corn- \nhill,  Marlborough,  Newbury,  and  Orange  Street,  at \ndifferent  points.  These  names  were  attached  as \nearly  as  1 708,  when  the  first  list  of  streets  was  placed \n\n\nJOHN  WINTHROFS  HOME.  59 \n\non  the  town  records.  The  name  of  Washington \nwas  applied  to  a  portion  of  this  thoroughfare  in  1789, \non  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of  the  first  President, \nwho  entered  the  town  by  it  then,  as  he  had  at  the \ntime  of  the  evacuation  of  the  place  by  the  British  in \n1776.  Until  1872  it  ended  at  Dock  Square,  but  in \nthat  year,  after  a  fire  which  opened  the  way  for  its \nextension,  it  was  continued  through  that  square, \nthen  re-named  Adams  Square,  to  Haymarket  Square, \na  spot  within  the  limits  of  the  Mill  Pond  of  the  earli- \nest days.  For  more  than  a  century — for  seven-score \nyears  indeed,  there  were  no  brick  sidewalks  except \non  that  part  of  Main  Street  near  the  Old  South, \ncalled  Cornhill  ;  and  the  streets  were  paved  with \npebbles.  Foot-passengers  took  the  middle  of  the \nstreets,  where  they  were  the  smoothest.  King  Street \nhad  no  sidewalks  before  the  Revolution,  and  the \npavement  extended  from  house  to  house.  Of  course \nthere  were  no  street  lamps. \n\nWhat  ''  entertainment \"  Mr.  Winthrop  had  pro- \nvided for  his  family  we  do  not  know.  His  home  was \nestablished  at  about  this  time  on  a  lot  nearly  op- \nposite the  present  School  Street,  on  the  principal \nthoroughfare,  where  at  a  later  period  it  changed  its \nname  from  Cornhill  to  Marlborough.  It  was  a  build- \ning of  some  capacity,  but  probably  very  rough  and \nplain,  and  was  surrounded  by  a  garden,  which  ex- \ntended as  far  as  the  present  Milk  Street,  the  Old \nSouth  church  being  built  on  it.  From  Mr.  Win- \nthrop's  house  the  walk  to  the  water's  edge  was  not \nmore  than  one  third  of,  the  present  distance,  and  he \nwas  surrounded  by  unoccupied  territory  on  all  sides. \n\n\n6o  THE  LA  Y  OF  THE  LAND. \n\nIn  fact  the  region  beyond  Milk  Street  was  far  out  of \ntown  until  a  much  later  period,  and  was  known  as \nthe  \"  South  End,\"  for  the  chief  portion  of  the  town \nwas  found  on  the  northern  promontory,  at  the  south \nside  of  Copp's  Hill,  and  on  the  shore  of  \"  Town \nCove,\"  where  it  was  under  protection  of  a  battery. \nThe  present  North  Street  ran  along  the  shore  of  this \ncove,  and  the  Town  Dock  was  at  Dock  Square,  the \nsite  of  Faneuil  Hall  being  in  early  times  covered \nwith  water.  The  appearance  of  the  houses  as  they \ngrew  up  on  the  line  of  the  Town  Cove  was  very \nagreeable  from  the  water. \n\nTo  the  west  from  Mr.  Winthrop's  dwelling,  a \nshort  space,  was  an  open  field  running  down  to  the \nwaters  that  flowed  thence  quite  to  the  higher  land \nin  Roxbury.  It  was  the  \"Sentry  Field,\"  or  the \nCommon,  and  was,  largely  through  the  efforts  of \nGovernor  Winthrop,  kept  open  for  the  common  use \nof  the  inhabitants.  On  it  cows  were  pastured  until \nabout  sixty  years  ago.  At  the  time  of  Margaret \nWinthrop's  arrival  it  was  probably  covered  with \nboulders  that  were  convenient,  as  building  pro- \ngressed, for  use  in  the  foundations.  The  whole \npromontory  when  Mr.  Winthrop  arrived  was  \"  very \nuneven,  abounding  in  small  hollows  and  swamps, \ncovered  with  blueberries  and  other  bushes,\"  and \ndoubtless  its  character  had  changed  but  little  during \nthe  few  months  that  elapsed  before  Margaret's  ar- \nrival. There  were,  in  fact,  but  a  few  cabins  on  the \neastern  side  of  the  hill  which  sloped  towards  the  bay. \n\n\"  It  being  a  neck  and  bare  of  wood,  they  are  not \ntroubled  with   three   great    annoyances    of   wolves, \n\n\nTHE   MEETING-HOUSE.  6 1 \n\nrattlesnakes,  and  musquitoes,\"  writes  one  observer \nthe  first  year,  though  Johnson,  in  his  \"  Wonder- \nWorking  Providence,\"  declares  that  at  the  time  of \nWinthrop's  landing  the  \"  hideous  thickets  \"  were  such \nthat  \"  wolves  and  bears  nursed  up  their  young  from \nthe  eyes  of  all  beholders.\"  It  is  a  matter  of  dispute \nwhether  there  was  actually  no  wood  on  the  penin- \nsula, though  there  was  but  little,  if  any,  and  Win- \nthrop  wrote  to  his  son  in  the  winter  of  1637,  that \nBoston  was  \"  almost  ready  to  break  up  for  want  of \nwood,\"  the  season  being  so  severe,  and  the  water \nabout  them  frozen  over.  Most  if  not  all  of  the  fire- \nwood and  timber  was  brought  to  the  settlers  by \nwater,  and  so  was  the  general  supply  of  hay,  for \neven  when  the  blueberry  fields  had  been  subdued \nthey  did  not  prove  sufficient  for  the  agricultural \npurposes  of  the  growing  town. \n\nWe  are  left  to  imagine  the  slow  process  of  making \nhomes  for  the  emigrants,  and  even  the  time  when \nthey  provided  the  first  meeting-house  is  not  exactly \nknown,  though  it  w^as  built  on  the  street  now  called \nState,  at  first  known  as  King  Street,  probably  in \n1632.  It  was  near  the  first  Town-House,  standing \nat  the  head  of  that  street,  and  was  a  small  building, \nwith  walls  of  mud  and  roof  of  thatch.  Before  it  was \nerected,  the  congregation  of  Mr.  Wilson  held  service \nin  private  houses,  or,  perhaps,  \"  abroad  under  a  tree,\" \nas  we  know  they  did  before  they  left  Charleton. \n\nThough  the  party  that  came  with  Winthrop  was \nregaled  by  Endicott  with  venison  pasty  and  beer, \nthat  was  not  the  usual  diet  of  the  settlers,  as  we  are \nexpressly    informed;    and    though    we    know    that \n\n\n62  THE   LA  Y   OF  THE   LAND. \n\nvarious  kinds  of  \"strong  water\"  were  brought  over \nin  the  Arbella  and  other  ships,  it  is  related  as  among \nthe  privations  of  the  New  World  that  \"  it  was  not \naccounted  a  strange  thing  in  those  days  to  drink \nwater,\"  for  \"  God  did  cause  his  people  to  trust  in  him, \nand  to  be  contented  with  mean  things, — nor  to  eat \nsamp  or  hominy  without  butter  or  milk.\"  Indeed, \nit  would  have  been  a  strange  thing  to  see  a  piece  of \nroast  beef,  mutton,  or  veal,  though  it  was  not  long \nbefore  there  was  roast  goat.  The  Indians  sometimes \nbrought  them  corn  and  bartered  with  the  new- \ncomers for  clothing  and  knives,  and  Nathaniel  Mor- \nton says  that  once  he  had  a  \"  peck  of  corn  or  there- \nabouts for  a  little  puppy-dog.\"  \"  Frost-fish,  mussels, \nand  clams  were  a  relief  to  many.\"  The  \"learned \nschoolmaster  and  physician,  and  the  renowned  poet \nof  New  England,\"  Benjamin  Thompson,  wrote  of \nthese  times  in  his  \"New  England's  Crisis\"  that \n\n\"  The  dainty  Indian  maize \nWas  eat  with  clam-shells  out  of  wooden  trays. \nUnder  thatched  huts,  without  the  cry  of  rent, \nAnd  the  best  sauce  to  every  dish,  content. \nDeep-skirted  doublets,  Puritanic  capes, \n\nWhich  now  [about  1665]  would  render  men  like  upright  apes, \nWas  comelier  wear,  our  wiser  fathers  thought, \nThan  the  last  fashions  from  all  Europe  brought.\" \n\n\nVII. \n\n\nSUNDRY   TROUBLES. \n\n\nTroubles  arose  in  the  colony  at  a  very  early \nperiod.  It  became  necessary,  in  the  opinion  of  the \ngovernor  and  assistants,  to  send  some  persons  back \nto  England,  because  they  had  come  to  Boston  un- \ninvited, and  those  who  were  thus  punished  naturally \ndenounced  the  colonists,  and  gave  evil  reports  of \nthe  land.  There  was  one  Philip  Ratcliff,  agent  for \nCradock,  who  thus  reported  that  if  the  church-mem- \nbers were  all  like  those  with  whom  he  had  dealt, \n\"  he  believed  that  the  devil  was  the  author  of  their \nchurch.\"  For  malicious  and  scandalous  speeches  he \nwas  sentenced  to  be  whipped,  to  have  his  ears  cut \noff,  to  be  fined  forty  shillings  and  to  be  banished, \nthe  magistrates  taking  these  barbarous  measures  not \nonly  because  they  were  fashionable  in  England  at \nthe  time,  but  because,  as  the  old  historian  Hubbard \nsays:  \"He  that  is  mounted  in  the  saddle  had  need \nkeep  the  reins  straight,  unless  he  intends  to  be \nthrown  down  and  trodden  under  foot.  They  that \nare  the  ministers  of  God  for  the  good  of  mankind, \nshould  not  bear  the  sword  in  vain.\" \n\nBanishment  was  a  favorite  method  of  punishing \nevil-doers  in  those  days,  and  of  protecting  the  infant \n\n63 \n\n\n64  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\ncommonwealth.  In  1629,  Governor  Endicott  sent \nback  John  and  Samuel  Browne,  who  did  not  propose \nto  secede  from  the  English  church,  but  set  up  at \nSalem  a  separate  worship  according  to  the  Book  of \nCommon  Prayer.  The  company  in  England  saw  the \ndanger  of  this  proceeding  and  gently  warned  Mr. \nEndicott  that  the  act  might  be  ill-construed  in  high \nquarters,  and  certainly  it  was  ill-construed  to  the \ndetriment  of  the  Americans.  Thomas  Morton, \nrepresented  to  be  a  rollicking  vagabond,  of  Mount \nWollaston,  was  \"  set  in  the  bilboes,\"  and  sent \nprisoner  to  England,  his  goods  being  seized  and \nconfiscated  ;  and  Sir  Christopher  Gardiner,  a  mys- \nterious \"knight  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,\"  who,  as \nHubbard  says,  very  well  became  that  title,  \"being \nhimself  a  mere  whited  sepulchre,\"  because  he  was \nsuspected  of  being  a  \"  Romanist,  an  adulterer,  and  a \nspy,\"  was  sent  home  to  be  tried  for  imputed  crimes. \nRatcliff  reported  that  the  country  was  a  \"  hideous \nwilderness,  possessed  with  barbarous  Indians  ;  very \ncold,  sickly,  rocky,  barren,  unfit  for  culture,  and  like \nto  keep  the  people  miserable.\"  One  Henry  Linn \nwas,  among  others,  whipped  and  banished  for \nwriting  letters  home  full  of  slander  against  the \ngovernment  and  the  order  of  the  churches ;  and  Mr. \nDudley  said  that  many  false  and  scandalous  reports \nwere  spread  abroad,  it  having  been  asserted  that \nMassachusetts  men  were  Brownists  and  Separatists. \nWorse  than  all,  such  \"  vile  reports  won  some  credit \namong  those  who  once  wished  the  colony  well.\" \nSir  Richard  Saltonstall  has  been  mentioned  as  one \nof  the  principal  supporters  of  the  Boston  colony. \n\n\nSALTONSTALL   PROTESTS,  65 \n\nHe  heard  such  rumors  as  these,  and  remonstrated \nagainst  the  intolerance  of  the  colonists.  Twenty \nyears  later,  in  165  i,  when  the  evil  reports  became \nmore  \"loud-mouthed,\"   he  wrote  to  the  ministers: \n\n\"  It  doth  not  a  little  grieve  my  spirit  to  hear  what  sad \nthings  are  reported  daily  of  your  tyranny  and  persecution \nin  England,  as  that  you  fine,  whip,  and  imprison  men \nfor  their  consciences.  First,  you  compel  such  to  come \ninto  your  assemblies  as  you  know  will  not  join  you  in \nyour  worship  ;  and  when  they  show  dislike  thereof,  or \nwitness  against  it,  then  you  stir  up  your  magistrates  to \npunish  them  for,  such,  as  you  conceive,  their  public \naffronts.  Truly,  friends,  this  your  practice  of  compel- \nling any  in  matters  of  worship,  to  that  whereof  they  are \nnot  fully  pursuaded,  is  to  make  them  sin  ;  for  so  the \nApostle  (Romans  xiv.,  23)  tells  us  ;  and  many  are  made \nhypocrites  thereby.\" \n\nNo  wonder  that  we  read  that  only  ninety  came \nover  in  the  twelvemonth  after  the  great  emigration, \nand  but  two  hundred  and  fifty  the  year  following. \n\nAmong  the  notable  arrivals  from  England  was \nthat  of  Roger  Williams,  who  came  by  the  ship  Lion, \nFebruary  5,  1631,  with  those  provisions  which  caused \nthe  public  thanksgiving  that  was  held  on  the  twenty- \nsecond  of  that  month.  Mr.  Williams  was  a  Welsh- \nman, about  eleven  years  younger  than  John  Win- \nthrop.  He  had  been  carefully  educated  after  the \nfashion  of  the  age,  and  had  become  a  clergyman  of \nthe  English  church,  in  which  he  associated  with \nJohn  Cotton  and  other  good  men  who  afterwards \nsought  our  shores,  but  was  then  an  enthusiastic \nPuritan.      There   are    indications    that    he  was    not \n\n\n66  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nonly  pious  and  learned,  but  also  that  Mr.  Cotton \nwas  correct,  when  he  said  that  Williams  looked  upon \nhimself  as  one  who  had  \"  received  a  clearer  illumina- \ntion of  and  apprehension  of  the  state  of  Christ's \nkingdom,  and  of  the  purity  of  church  communion, \nthan  all  Christendom  besides.\"  At  any  rate,  he \nfelt  that  the  Boston  Puritans  w^ere  not  sufficiently \npurified  from  the  corruptions,  as  he  thought  them,  of \nthe  English  church,  and  he  determined  to  bestir \nhimself  to  bring  about  a  reformation  in  New  Eng- \nland. He  proved  himself  singularly  eccentric  and \n\"heady,\"  and  Governor  Bradford  of  Plymouth, \nthough  he  thought  him  godly  and  zealous,  consid- \nered him  also  \"  very  unsettled  in  judgment.\"  On \nthe  soil  of  England  Williams  was  the  friend  and \ncompanion  of  Milton  and  Hampden,  of  Vane  and \nCromwell ;  in  the  New  World  he  was  a  guest  of \nthe  savages  in  their  \"  filthy,  smoky  holes,\"  and  a \nsharer  of  the  scanty  and  miscellaneous  diet  that  they \nwere  able  to  provide  him  in  the  forest  haunts.* \n\nThe  deputy-governor,  Thomas  Dudley,  was  an \nolder  man  than  Winthrop,  and  of  quite  a  different \ncharacter  in  some  respects.  He  was  \"  of  approved \nwisdom  and  godliness,\"  to  use  tht  language  of  the \ntime,  but  he  had  been  in  the  English  army,  and  was, \nperhaps  from  his  training  there,  of  a  somewhat  stern \nand  rigid  disposition.  Probably  it  irritated  him  to \nbe  second  in  office  to  a  man  so  much  his  junior,  and \nit  did  not  lessen  this  feeling  to  know  that  the  gov- \nernor felt    that   in  the   infancy  of  the   state  justice \n\n*  \"  The  Puritan  Age  and  Rule,\"  chapter  viii.,  and  the  \"  Life  of \nRoger  Williams,\"  by  Professor  William  Gammell,  p.  54. \n\n\nWINTHROP  AND   DUDLEY  AT  ODDS.  67 \n\nought  to  be  administered  with  more  lenity  than  he \napproved.  These  constitutional  differences  made  it \neasy  for  Dudley  to  fall  out  with  Winthrop  on  small \noccasion.  Accordingly,  when  Winthrop  decided \nthat  he  would  not  make  New  Town  the  capital,  as \nhe  did  in  163 1,  after  Dudley  had  built  a  dwelling \nthere,  and  when  Winthrop  himself  had  erected  the \nframe  for  his  own,  Dudley  complained  a  good  deal. \nIn  the  spring  Mr.  Dudley  went  away  abruptly  from \na  meeting  of  the  court,  declaring  that  he  would  no \nlonger  serve  as  deputy-governor ;  and  though  his \nresignation  was  not  allowed,  there  was  much  discus- \nsion about  the  relations  of  the  two  men. \n\nMr.  Winthrop  complained  that  Mr.  Dudley  made \nhis  dwelling  too  costly  for  a  building  in  a  new  plan- \ntation, because  he  ornamented  it  and  put  wainscot- \ning in  it.  The  quarrel  that  grew  up  seems  small  at \nthis  distance  of  time  ;  but  apparently  Dudley  had \nsome  cause  to  complain  that  Winthrop  removed  the \nframe  of  his  house  from  New  Town  to  Boston,  and \nWinthrop  does  not  seem  warranted  in  finding  fault \nwith  Dudley's  house  as  too  elaborate,  for  the \n'*  wainscoting  \"  appears  to  have  been  nothing  more \nthan  \"  clapboards  nailed  to  the  wall  in  form  of  wain- \nscot,\" for  purposes  of  warmth.  However,  the  un- \npleasantness was  not  removed  for  some  years,  and \nkept  breaking  out  at  intervals.  Doubtless  it  was  an \nimportant  matter  to  the  young  community,  and  all \nwere  happy  when  in  1638,  after  previous  deceptive \nreconciliations,  the  governor  and  deputy  met  at \nConcord,  where  they  were  laying  out  farms,  and \nwere  reconciled.     They  named  two  stones  there  the \n\n\n68  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nTwo  Brothers,  in  memory  of  the  reconciliation,  and \nto  remind  themselves  also  that  they  were  connected \nby  the  marriage  of  their  children,  Mary  Winthrop \nand  the  Reverend  Samuel  Dudley. \n\nThere  was  a  good  spirit  shown  at  one  time  in  the \ncontroversy,  when  Dudley  sent  a  bitter  letter  to \nWinthrop  and  Winthrop  returned  it,  saying  that  he \nwas  not  willing  to  keep  by  him  a  letter  that  might \ntend  to  make  him  angry.  He  also  offered  Mr. \nDudley  a  present  of  a  fat  hog,  as  a  testimony  of \ngood-will.  Upon  this  Mr.  Dudley  said  to  the  gov- \nernor, \"  Your  overcoming  yourself  hath  overcome \nme.\"  The  angry  and  threatening  quarrel,  though  it \nlasted  years,  ended  happily.  It  was  not  settled,  how- \never, until  it  had  been  considered  by  the  ministers, \nwho  were  general  advisers  in  those  days.  They  dif- \nfered from  Mr.  Winthrop,  and  told  him  that  strict \ndiscipline  in  criminal  offences  and  martial  affairs  was \nmore  needful  in  a  new  community  than  in  an  old \none  ;  and  he  replied  that  \"  he  was  convinced  that  he \nhad  failed  in  overmuch  lenity  and  remissness,  and \nwould  endeavor  (with  God's  assistance)  to  take  a \nmore  strict  course  \"  thereafter. \n\nThe  people  at  this  time  were  very  busy  in  all  the \noccupations  that  one  would  expect  the  settlers  of  a \nnew  town  to  be  engaged  in.  They  did  not  generally \nfeel  acquainted  enough  with  the  art  of  government  to \ntake  much  part  in  its  details,  and  the  governor  and \nhis  assistants  were  permitted  for  some  time  to  attend \nalmost  alone  to  such  matters.  A  great  many  small \npolice  regulations  were  found  necessary,  and  the \nassistants    were    busy   with    petty    offences.     Josias \n\n\nPOLICE  REGULATIONS.  69 \n\nPlastowe  was,  for  instance,  fined  five  pounds  and \nordered  to  make  twofold  restitution  for  stealing \ncorn  from  some  Indians,  and  thenceforth  he  was  to \nbe  called  Josias,  and  not  Mr.  Plastowe  as  formerly. \nCaptain  Stone,  for  calling  a  justice  \"just-ass\"  was \nfined  one  hundred  pounds.  Corn  was  ordered  to  be \naccepted  instead  of  gold  and  silver,  unless  money  or \nbeaver  skins  were  expressly  named  in  bargains ;  a \nday  was  appointed  for  the  monthly  \"  training  \"  of \nthe  militia  ;  certain  offenders  were  fined  for  \"  abus- \ning themselves  disorderly  with  drinking  too  much \nstrong  drink  \"  ;  Captain  Lovell  was  admonished  to \ntake  heed  of  \"light  carriage\";  the  price  of  boards \nwas  fixed  ;  Henry  Lyon  was  whipped  and  banished \n\"  for  writing  against  the  government  and  the  execu- \ntion of  justice  \"  ;  a  ferry  was  established  between \nWinnesimmet  (Chelsea)  and  Charlestown  ;  pastor \nPhillips  of  Watertown  was  disciplined  for  speaking \nof  the  Church  of  Rome  as  a  true  church  ;  the  wages \nof  servants  was  settled  ;  no  person  was  allowed  to \nleave  the  jurisdiction  by  sea  or  land,  or  to  buy  pro- \nvisions from  any  vessel  without  permission  from  a \nmagistrate;  the  sachem  Chickatabot  was  fined  a \nbeaver  skin  for  shooting  a  swine  of  Sir  Richard \nSaltonstall's  *  ;  the  time  for  burning  over  ground \nfor  corn  was  fixed  ;  there  were  assessments  for  mak- \ning the  creek  at  the  New  Town  \"  twelve  feet  broad \nand  seven  feet  deep,\"  and  for  fortifying  the  same \nplace ;  and  a  fort  was  built  on  what  has  since  been \n\n*  On  the  contrary.  Sir  Richard  was  directed  at  another  time  to \ngive  Sagamore  John  a  hogshead  of  corn  for  the  hurt  his  cattle  had \ndone  to  the  Indian's  corn. \n\n\n70  ,     SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\ncalled  Fort  Hill  in  Boston.  In  1632  a  windmill  that \nhad  done  service  at  New  Town,  but  would  not  grind \nexcept  when  the  wind  was  in  the  west,  was  taken \ndown  and  set  up  on  Copp's  Hill.  Boston  was  for- \nn:ially  declared  to  be  the  fittest  place  for  public \nmeetings,  and  the  court  ordered  that  a  House  of \nCorrection  and  a  house  for  the  beadle  should  be \nerected  speedily.  The  beadle  was  charged  with  the \ncorrection  of  petty  offenders. \n\nLaud  had  now  become  archbishop  of  England,  and \nhis  furious  dealings  with  the  Puritans  led  to  new  emi- \ngration of  men  of  means  and  of  learned  divines,  in \n1633.  The  arrival  of  Mr.  John  Cotton,  for  more \nthan  a  score  of  years  minister  of  St.  Botolph's  Old \nBoston,  who  had  journeyed' to  Southampton  to  say \nfarewell  to  Winthrop  in  1630,  was  an  event  of  note. \nHis  was  the  most  stately  parish  church  in  England. \nThe  beautiful  tower  rises  to  the  height  of  two  hun- \ndred and  eighty  feet.  Though  the  church  contains \nno  galleries,  it  is  estimated  to  accommodate  five \nthousand  persons.  With  Mr.  Cotton's  arrival  is \nconnected  an  incident  showing  that  however  great \nthe  influence  of  the  clergy  may  have  been  at  the \ntime,  and  undoubtedly  was,  it  did  not  overawe  the \ncareful  Puritans  enough  to  lead  them  to  give  up \nany  political  power  that  they  thought  was  by  right \ntheirs.  Mr.  Cotton  had  renounced  Episcopacy,  but \nhe  was  not  so  advanced  as  the  colonists  had  be- \ncome in  the  short  time  that  had  passed  since  they \nhad  been  under  the  king's  immediate  rule.  He  came \nto  Boston  with  a  reputation  which  his  great  learning \nand  ability  increased.     Hutchinson  says  of  him  that \n\n\n<    0, \n\n\n\"3 \n\nc  6 \n\n♦^  « \n\n\n3    <« \n\n>-  CO \n\nPC    ^ \n\nK  o \n\n\nP  o \n\nJ3  -C \n\n\nu \n\nJ=   c \nI*.  \"^ \n\nK    > \n\ni-i \n\n►J    >-. \n\nWcq \n\n\n•3 \n\n\nc^ \n\n\nI-I \n\nw \n\nH \n\n1-1 \n\n\n^ \n\n\nCO \n\nc \n\n\nr; \n\n\nc \n\n(— \n\nQ \n\nc \n\nWJ \n\n-u \n\nU-> \n\nCO \n\nC5 \n\no \n\ncz \n\n<-u \n\n•  •-< \n\nK^ \n\nr: \n\nO \n60 \n\n3 \n\no \n\nE \n\n01 \n\no \n\n^ \n\nc< \n\nH \n\n< \n\nz, \no \n\nh \nh \n\nO \n\n\n(U \n\n\no \n\n\no \n\n\nOi \n\n\n(J!    c^^ \n\n\nCo \n\n\nKl \n\n\nci«?:$oc$x^o$3C$o  :$oc^cfi30!{p^ \n\n\n72  SUM  DRV  TROUBLES. \n\nhe  is  supposed  to  have  been  more  instrumental  in \nthe  settlement  of  the  civil  and  as  well  as  the  eccle- \nsiastical polity  of  New  England  than  any  other  per- \nson.* He  was  ordained  pastor  of  the  First  Church \nin  October  with  peculiar  ceremonies,  which  have \nbeen  essentially  followed  in  the  Congregational  body \nsince.  The  next  day,  in  like  manner,  Mr.  Hooker \nwas  formally  placed  at  the  head  of  the  church  at \nNew  Town. \n\nWhen  Mr.  Winthrop's  term  of  ofTfice  came  to  a \nclose  in  May,  1633,  Mr.  Cotton  preached  an  election \nsermon,  in  which  he  urged  that  a  magistrate  ought \nnot  to  be  turned  into  the  condition  of  a  private  man \nwithout  just  cause;  whereupon  the  independent  vot- \ners proceeded  to  relegate  Mr.  Winthrop  to  private \nlife,  and  to  place  Thomas  Dudley  in  the  office  of \ngovernor,  coolly  referring  Mr.  Cotton's  arguments  to \n\"  further  consideration.\"  Winthrop  had  held  the \nchief  oflfice  since  his  election  in  England  before  the \nemigration,  had  performed  its  heavy  duties  without \nremuneration,  and  had,  indeed,  paid  many  expenses \nfrom  his  private  purse  that  might  properly  have  been \ncharged  to  the  public  treasury  ;  but  latterly  he  had \nlost  some  favor,  and  now  at  four  elections  a  change \nwas  made  with  regularity.  The  last  change,  how- \never, was  to  Mr.  Winthrop  again.  Mr.  Cotton  did \nnot  reflect  that  the  voters  were  the  ones  to  settle  the \nquestion  as  to  whether  there  was  just  cause  for  not \nre-electing  an  ofificer.  Though  Winthrop  was  out  of \noffice,  he  did  not  cease  exerting  an  influence  upon \nthe  town.  He  was  at  the  head  of  a  committee \n*  \"  History  of  New  England,\"  vol.  i.,  p.  32. \n\n\nPE/iSONS   OF  QUALITY.  73 \n\nappointed  to  dispose  of  all  the  common  lands  of \nthe  town,  in  December,  1634,  and  he  induced  the \npeople  to  reserve  forty  or  fifty  acres  for  the  perpetual \nuse  of  the  public.  It  seems  that  but  for  Mr.  Win- \nthrop's  determined  stand,  in  the  face  of  much  oppo- \nsition, the  region  which  is  the  beauty  and  the  pride \nof  the  city  would  now  be  covered  with  buildings. \n\nThe  promoters  of  the  Boston  emigration  seem  to \nhave  had  grand  visions  of  the  creation  of  \"  a  trans- \natlantic English  empire,\"  which  should  include  all \nthat  was  best  in  the  land  that  they  left  behind  ;  per- \nhaps they  saw  a  New  Atlantis  rising  on  our  shores, \nsuch  as  Bacon  and  others  before  him  had  imagined. \nSo,  at  least,  Burke  seems  to  have  thought  that  they \nfelt.*  Now  there  came  from  London  a  direct  propo- \nsition on  the  part  of  some  \"  persons  of  great  quality \nand  estate,  and  of  special  note  for  piety,\"  for  the \nestablishment  of  a  social  system  comprising  two \nranks  of  men,  the  one  called  \"  princes,  or  nobles,  or \nelders,\"  and  the  other  \"  the  people.\"  The  colonists \nwillingly  acknowledged  two  distinct  orders,  both \n\"  from  the  light  of  nature  and  Scripture,\"  and  that \nthey  should  be  hereditary, — members  of  the  first \nhaving  the  right  to  attend  parliament  or  public  as- \nsemblies personally,  and  members  of  the  second \nhaving  the  right  of  meeting  and  voting  by  deputies- \nwhom  they  should  choose. \n\nNothing  came  of  this  proposal  except  discussion, \nwhich  probably  settled  the  minds  of  many  and  gave \nmore  full  knowledge  to  the  people  as  to  what  they \nmight  safely  and  properly  try  to  do  in  the  new  land. \n\n*  Palfrey,  \"  History  of  New  England,\"  vol.  i.,  p.  308. \n\n\n74  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nOne  person  of  \"  quality  \"  came  over,  \"  Harry  Vane,\" \nafterwards  Sir  Henry  Vane,  and  it  is  said  that  Pym, \nHampden,  and  Oliver  Cromwell  would  have  followed \nbut  for  \"  an  express  order  of  the  king  \"  forbidding \nthem.  These  facts  show  that  the  charter  was \nthought  to  give  the  colonists  power  to  establish \nany  sort  of  government  that  they  pleased,  if  it \nwas  not  antagonistic  to  that  of  England.  We  shall \nsee  that  the  tendency  was  toward  making  the  gov- \nernment more  popular  rather  than  towards  any  sort \nof  hereditary  nobility,  in  spite  of  the  tempting \npropositions  of  the  persons  of  quality. \n\nCertain  new-comers,  Williams,  Vane,  Hugh  Pe- \nter,* and  Mrs.  Anne  Hutchinson,  caused  great  dis- \nturbance for  several  years,  into  the  details  of  which \nwe  cannot  go  ;  but  a  few  facts  concerning  them  are \nnecessary  to  enable  us  to  understand  the  story.  Mr. \nWilliams  refused  to  unite  with  the  church  at  Boston \non  his  arrival,  because  it  would  not  profess  repent- \nance for  having  had  communion  with  the  English \nchurch,  and  from  that  time  he  proved  the  correct- \nness of  the  judgment  of  those  who  thought  him \n\"  eccentric.\"  He  went  to  Salem,  where  he  was \nasked  to  become  teacher  of  the  church.  He  re- \nmained a  while,  and  then  went  to  Plymouth,  becom- \ning associate  with  that  Mr.  Ralph  Smith  of  whom \nthe  Boston  colonists  had  been  afraid  that  he  was \na  Separatist.  Soon  Elder  Brewster,  of  Plymouth, \nwas  anxious  to  be  rid  of  Williams,  on  account  of \nthe    restless    disputes    which    he    excited,    and    was \n\n*  This  person  always  spelled  his  name  thus,  though  a  final  s  is \noften  added  by  others. \n\n\nTHE   FROG   POND   ON    THE   COMMON \nAS    IT    NOW    APPEARS. \n\n\n75 \n\n\n^6  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nhappy  when   the  Salem  people  called  him  to  them \n\n\nagam. \n\n\nBack  at  Salem,  Williams  began  to  stir  up  discus- \nsion upon  various  subjects.  Cotton  Mather  said, \nrather  more  wittily  than  truly  (using  the  proverbial \nexpression),  that  Williams  had  \"  a  windmill  in  his \nhead.\"  He  gave  out  that  women  ought  to  wear \nveils  when  they  went  abroad,  and  especially  when \nthey  appeared  in  public  assemblies ;  upon  which \nMr.  Cotton  spent  a  Sunday  at  Salem  and  preached \na  sermon  to  the  women,  which  \"  let  in  so  much  light \ninto  their  understandings  that  they  who  before \nthought  it  a  shame  to  be  seen  in  public  without  a \nveil  were  ashamed  ever  after  to  be  covered  with \nthem.\"  Williams  was  so  much  of  a  zealot  for  re- \nform that  he  thought  that  the  cross  should  be  taken \nfrom  the  flag  because  \"  it  was  a  relic  of  anti-Chris- \ntian superstition,\"  and  Governor  Endicott  cut  it  out \naccordingly.  \"  What  that  good  man  would  have \ndone  with  the  cross  upon  his  coin  (if  he  had  any  left) \nthat  bore  the  sign  of  superstition,\"  says  Hubbard, \nslyly,  \"  is  uncertain.\"  Williams  maintained  that  it \nwas  unlawful  for  an  unregenerate  man  to  pray  or  to \ntake  an  oath,  especially  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the \ngovernment,  and  that  a  godly  man  ought  not  to \nhave  any  communion  with  such  as  were  considered \nunregenerate,  and  therefore  he  refused  to  take  the \noath  of  fidelity,  and  taught  others  to  refuse.  He \nurged  that  the  magistrates  ought  not  to  have  to  do \nwith  matters  relating  to  a  man's  duty  to  God,  but \nonly  with  his  duties  to  man,  and  that  \"there  should \nbe  a  general  and  unlimited  toleration  of  all  religions, \n\n\nTHE    CASE    OF  ROGER   WILLIAMS.  JJ \n\nand  for  any  man  to  be  punished   for  any  matters  of \nhis  conscience  was  persecution.* \n\nProbably  the  worst  feature  in  the  case  of  Williams \nwas  what  Cotton  calls  \"  his  violent  and  tumultuous \ncarriage  against  the  patent.\"  He  declared  that \nKing  James  told  a  \"  solemn  public  lie  \"  in  that  docu- \nment, and  that  it  gave  the  colonists  no  right  to  the \nterritory  it  described,  but  that  the  natives  were  still \nthe  true  owners  of  it.  This  doctrine,  if  not  \"violent \nand  tumultuous  \"  itself,  tended  to  promote  violent \nand  tumultuous  carriage,  for  it  would  have  upturned \nall  civil  order  in  the  colony,  would  have  rendered \ninvalid  all  titles  to  land,  and  would  have  relegated \nthe  community  to  a  state  of  anarchy.  No  wonder \nthe  magistrates  were  alarmed  to  have  a  man  not \nonly  carefully  writing  such  things  down  in  a  book \n(which,  though  unpublished,  was  probably  known  to \nmany,  as  other  unpublished  books  were  at  that  time, \nwhen  printing  was  not  yet  introduced  into  the \ncolony),  but  also,  as  Winthrop  expressly  declares, \n\"publicly  teaching  against  the  king's  patent,\"  and \nthe  great  sin  of  the  colonists  in  claiming  rights \nunder  it.  The  magistrates  spared  no  pains  in  warn- \ning Mr.  Williams  and  in  endeavoring  to  lead  him \nto  give  up  his  offensive  practices  ;  but  when  their \nefforts  failed,  they  treated  him  as  the)^  had  other \noffenders,  and  ordered  him  to  \"  depart  out  of  the \njurisdiction  within  six  weeks  now  ensuing.\"  The \nremainder  of  the  life  of  this  remarkable  man  belongs \nto  the  history  of  another  community. \n\nPages  of  the   history  of  this  period   are   covered \n\n*  Hutchinson,  \"  General  History  of  New  England,\"  p.  206. \n\n\n78  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nwith  details  of  the  \"  Antinomian  controversy,\"  so \ncalled — a  discussion  which  began  in  the  First \nChurch,  and  apparently  should  have  been  confined \nto  it.  It  was  more  threatening  than  the  trouble \nwith  Williams,  and  permeated  the  whole  Puritan \nfabric,  and,  if  peace  had  not  been  brought  about, \nwould  have  involved  the  whole  town,  and  perhaps \nthe  colony,  in  dissension  and  ruin.  \"  Hitherto  the \nbeauty  of  the  Lord  had  been  upon  the  primitive \nplantations  of  New  England,\"  wrote  Mr.  Hubbard; \n\"  but  the  wicked  one  stirred  up  several  of  his  instru- \nments, as  the  Pequod  Indians  and  the  preachers \nof  antinomianism,  who  infested  the  plantation.\" \n\nThe  fears  of  the  men  of  Boston  were  not  imagin- \nary. They  had  read  the  story  of  the  split  in  the \nReformed  Church  of  Munster  in  1534,  and  remem- \nbered the  horrible  excesses  that  it  led  to — the  de- \ncapitation of  citizens  by  the  score  by  the  fanatic \ndraper  Knipperdolling,  the  wild  and  degrading  vaga- \nries of  \"  King  \"  John,  the  head  of  the  Anabaptists; \nand  the  hideous  circumstances  of  the  subsequent \nsiege  of  the  city.* \n\nSome  had  been  heard  to  say,  so  Mr.  Hubbard \nreports,  \"  that  they  believed  the  church  of  Boston \nto  be  the  most  glorious  church  in  the  world,\" \nmainly,  doubtless,  on  account  of  the  presence  of \n\"that  burning  and  shining  light,\"  Mr.  John  Cotton. \nNow  it  was  about  to  go  under  a  cloud,  all  by  reason \n\n*  The  story  of  these  troubles  was  given  in  all  its  repulsive  details \nin  a  pamphlet  entitled  \"  The  Dippers  Dipt  ;  or  the  Anabaptists \nducked  and  plunged  over  head  and  ears,\"  written  by  Daniel  Featley, \nwho  died  in  1644.  See  also  \"  The  Story  of  Germany,\"  chapter \nxxxvi. \n\n\nMRS.    HUTCHINSON' S  CASE.  79 \n\nof  the  insinuating  efforts  of  one  Mrs.  Anne  Hutchin- \nson, a  gentlewoman  \"  of  a  nimble  wit,  voluble  tongue, \neminent  knowledge  in  the  Scriptures,  and  notable \nhelpfulness  to  her  own  sex,  to  which  especially  she \naddressed  herself.\"  Antinomianism  was  a  doctrine \nmuch  feared  by  the  ministers  of  Boston,  and  by  all \nwho  had  any  interest  in  the  Puritan  church.  The \nsect  to  which  it  was  attributed  originated  just  before \nthe  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and \nheld  that  under  the  gospel  dispensation  the  moral \nlaw  is  of  no  use  or  obligation.  Another  sect,  known \nas  the  Family  of  Love,  or  Familists,  arose  about \nsixty  years  later,  receiving  its  name  from  the  affec- \ntion that  its  members  professed  to  bear  to  all  people, \nhowever  wicked.  The  errors  of  these  sects  were \nattributed  to  both  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and  her  brother, \nthe  Reverend  John  Wheelwright,  and  even  the \n\"loving  and  gentle\"  Mr.  Cotton  found  that  many \nof  them  were  attributed  also  to  him,  though  all \nthree  denied  that  they  were  Antinomians.  The \ncolony  was  thoroughly  stirred  up  by  these  opinions ; \nMrs.  Hutchinson  gathered  a  company  of  some  sixty \nwomen  in  private  houses,  and  expounded  to  them \nher  views  ;  Mr.  Winthrop  says  that  most  members \nof  the  church  were  carried  away  by  the  errors,  and \nthat  the  five  or  six  who  held  to  the  old  views  were \ndesired  to  withdraw.  A  synod  was  called  to  meet  at \nNew  Town  in  1637,  composed  of  the  elders  of  the \nchurches  throughout  the  country,  to  consider  the \nmatter. \n\nThe  synod,  which  had  been  called,  not  by  the  min- \nisters only,  but  also  with  consent  of  the  magistrates, \n\n\n8o  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nmet  at  New  Town  in  November,  in  the  church  of \nthe  Reverend  Mr.  Thomas  Shepard,  and  for  three \nweeks  patiently  listened  to  tedious  discussions, \neighty-two  opinions  being  finally  condemned  with \napparent  unanimity.  A  basis  was  thus  presented \nfor  further  proceedings.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  was  for- \nmally tried  by  the  court,  and  sentenced  to  banish- \nment. The  church  took  up  the  case  again  after- \nwards, and  pronounced  sentence  of  excommunica- \ntion. Thus  banned,  both  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and  her \nbrother  left  Boston,  the  one  going  to  found  Exeter, \nNew  Hampshire,  and  the  other  taking  her  way  to \nRhode  Island.     She  afterwards  met  a  tragic  death \n\no \n\nat  the  hands  of  the  Indians  somewhere  near  the \npresent  Astoria,  whither  she  finally  went.  To  pre- \nvent tumults,  a  good  number  of  citizens  of  Boston \nwere  now  required  to  give  up  their  arms,  and  a  law \nAvas  passed  threatening  fine  an^  imprisonment  or \nbanishment,  upon  all  who  should  defame  any  court \nor  any  sentence  passed  by  one.  Many  persons \nremoved  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Massachusetts \nmagistrates,  going  to  Rhode  Island  and  elsewhere; \nsome  were  banished  and  others  disfranchised.  It \nwas  a  long  time  before  the  wounds  then  made  were \nhealed.  Two  years  later,  Mr.  Winthrop,  who  had \nopposed  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  views  when  they  were \npopular,  was  received  into  even  greater  esteem  than \nbefore;  and  in  1644,  the  decree  of  banishment  that \nhad  been  made  against  Mr.  Wheelwright  was  with- \ndrawn. \n\nThere  were  two  men  of  note  exceedingly  prominent \nin  Boston  affairs  at  this  time,  to  whose  strange  and \n\n\nTHE    CASE    OF  HUGH  PETER.  8 1 \n\ntragic  careers  a  few  words  must  be  given,  Harry \nVane  and  Hugh  Peter,  of  whom  we  have  spoken, \narrived  there  in  1635,  and  had  scarcely  been  on  the \nshores  of  the  New  World  three  months  before  they \nundertook  to  \"  revise  the  administration  of  the  gov- \nernment \"  ;  a  fact  which  shows  that  the  pleasantries \nabout  the  too  prompt  interference  by  new-comers  in \nAmerican  affairs,  which  are  seen  nowadays  in  our \njournals,  might  have  found  appropriate  place  in \ncorrespondence  before  the  daily  newspaper  was \nthought  of.  Mr.  Vane  rushed  through  his  brief \ncourse  in  Boston  in  a  short  time.  His  high  birth,  and \nthe  fact  that  he  sympathized  with  the  colonists  against \nthe  wishes  of  his  father,  gave  him  prominence,  and \nhe  was  incontinently  chosen  governor  at  the  first \nelection  after  his  arrival.  He  was  defeated  by  Win- \nthrop  the  following  year,  and  on  the  third  of  August, \njust  before  the  synod  met  at  New  Town,  he  left  Bos- \nton forever.* \n\nMr.  Peter   had    suffered    for   his    opinions    under \nLaud,t  and  had  been  for  six  years  a  pastor  at  Rot- \n\n*  He  had  proved,  to  use  the  language  of  Governor  Hutchinson, \n\"young  and  inexperienced,  but  obstinate  and  self-sufficient,\"  and \ngave  offence  to  the  greater  part  of  the  people.  It  was  thought  at \nthe  time  that  he  had  left  behind  him  dissensions  that  would  trouble \nthe  colony  for  ages. \n\nf  \"New  England  has  perhaps  never  quite  appreciated  its  great \nobligations  to  Archbishop  Laud.  It  was  his  overmastering  hate  of \nnon-conformity,  it  was  the  vigilance  and  vigor  and  consecrated \ncruelty  with  which  he  scoured  his  own  diocese  and  afterwards  all \nEngland,  and  hunted  down  and  hunted  out  all  the  ministers  who \nwere  committing  the  unpardonable  sin  of  dissent,  that  conferred \nupon  the  principal  colonies  of  New  England  their  ablest  and  noblest \nmen.\" — \"  A  History  of  American  Literature,\"  by  Professor  Moses \nCoit  Tyler,  vol.  i.,  p.  204. \n\n\n82  SUNDRY  TROUBLES. \n\nterdam,  whither  he  went  for  safety.  He  took  the \nplace  of  Williams  in  the  church  at  Salem,  and  engaged \nwith  energy  both  in  religious  and  business  affairs, \ngoing  from  place  to  place  inciting  men  to  public \nspirit,  raising  money  to  develop  certain  kinds  of \nindustries,  working  with  John  Winthrop,  junior,  in \nthe  matters  of  the  Connecticut  colony,  and  at  one \ntime  rebuking  Vane  for  his  \"  peremptory  con- \nclusions,\" which,  he  said,  he  perceived  the  young \ngovernor  to  be  very  apt  unto.  In  1641  he  went  to \nEngland  as  agent  for  the  colony,  remaining  there. \nHe  became  chaplain  to  Cromwell,  and  walked  by \nthe  side  of  his  secretary,  John  Milton,  at  his  funeral. \nAt  the  Restoration  he  was  executed. \n\n\nVIII. \n\n\nTHE  GOVERNMENT  BECOMES  MORE  POPULAR. \n\n\nThe  Company  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  was  at \nfirst  a  pure  democracy  ;  every  member  was  author- \nized to  vote  for  the  governor  and  assistants.  It  was \nnot  at  all  the  intention  of  the  promoters  of  the  colony, \nhowever,  to  establish  a  democracy  on  the  shores  of \nAmerica.  John  Cotton  said  in  express  terms  that \nhe  did  not  conceive  that  God  ever  ordained  democ- \nracy to  be  a  fit  government,  either  for  church  or \ncommonwealth.  The  form  of  civil  polity  in  the  new \ncolony  was  determined  by  the  circumstances  as  they \narose  ;  and  the  fact  that  loyalty  to  the  king  was  not \nso  strong  when  a  broad  ocean  rolled  between  him \nand  his  subjects,  and  when  weeks  were  occupied  in \nconveying  orders  from  him  to  them,  as  it  was  when \nthe  sovereign  was  near  to  them,  and  could  cause  his \ncommands  to  be  quickly  conveyed  to  them,  had  a \nconsiderable  effect  in  making  a  gradual  change. \n\nThe  supreme  authority  in  Boston  was  at  first  in \nthe  hands  of  the  governor  and  assistants,  and  they \nwere  chosen  by  all  the  freemen  ;  but  on  the  occasion \nof  the  first  general  court,  which  was  held  October \n19,  1630,  it  was  determined  that  the  freemen  should \nchoose  the  assistants,   and  they  should,  from  their \n\n83 \n\n\n84      THE  GOVERNMENT  BECOMES  MORE  POPULAR. \n\nown  number,  elect  the  governor  and  deputy-governor. \nMore  than  a  hundred  men  were  admitted  to  the \nprivileges  of  freemen  at  that  time,  and  among  them \nwere  some  who  did  not  belong  to  any  of  the  churches. \nThis  fact  shortly  became  the  cause  of  serious  consid- \neration, for,  the  purpose  of  the  colonists  being  to \nbuild  up  a  biblical  commonwealth,  it  was  found \nnecessary  to  establish  some  basis  of  character  which \nM'ould  ensure  the  continuance  of  its  desired  traits. \nIt  was  of  paramount  importance,  as  the  voters  ex- \npressed it,  May  i8,  1631,  to  make  sure  that  the  body \nof  the  commons  should  be  \"honest  and  good  men,\" \nand  accordingly  the  only  steps  known  to  them  to \nmake  this  sure  were  taken.  It  was  voted  unani- \nmously that  no  man  should  be  admitted  to  the  free- \ndom of  the  body  politic  who  was  not  a  member  of \none  of  the  churches  within  the  limits  of  the  colony. \nBy  this  vote  all  members  of  the  Church  of  England \nwere  excluded,  though  naturally  Mr.  Blaxton,  Mr. \nMaverick,  and  others,  who  had  not  renounced \nconnection  with  it,  were  permitted  to  retain  the \nprivileges  that  had  previously  been  voted  to  them. \nIt  was  the  first  time  in  history  when  such  terms  for \nthe  franchise  had  been  laid  down  in  any  civil  state.* \nA  kind  of  aristocracy  hitherto  unknown  was  estab- \nlished, based  not  upon  birth,  nor  learning,  nor  wealth, \nbut  upon  personal  character,  so  far  as  the  real  worth \nof  a  man  could  be  determined  by  human  tests.f \n\nThe  methods  of  election  were  modified  from  time \nto  time,  and  it  was  not  very  long,  indeed,  before  the \n\n*  Ellis,  \"  The  Puritan  Age  and  Rule,\"  p.  201. \n\n\\  Palfrey,  \"  History  of  New  England,\"  vol.  i.,  p.  345. \n\n\nTHE   PEOPLE    UNEASY.  83 \n\ngeneral  court  ordered  that  the  right  to  choose  the \ngovernor  should  be  taken  from  the  assistants  and \nconferred  upon  the  whole  body  of  the  commons.  It \nwas  also  agreed  that,  instead  of  calling  all  the  free- \nmen at  the  general  court  to  settle  taxes  and  assess- \nments, two  deputies  should  be  chosen  from  each \nplantation  to  confer  with  the  governor  and  assistants \nin  regard  to  such  matters.  Thus  there  appears  to \nhave  been  a  steadily  growing  desire  on  the  part  of \nthe  freemen  to  enlarge  their  share  in  the  government, \nwhich,  by  every  change  that  was  made^  became  more \npopular  in  its  character.  Speaking  of  this  period. \nGovernor  Hutchinson  says  that  \"  the  people  began \nto  grow  uneasy,\"  and  no  longer  wished  to  allow  the \nwhole  management  of  public  affairs  to  rest  in  the \nhands  of  the  governor  and  assistants,  though  appar- \nently their  experience  had  at  first  inclined  them  to \nassume  as  little  responsibility  as  possible.  In  May, \n1634,  the  freemen,  assembled  as  the  fifth  great  and \ngeneral  court,  voted  that  the  deputies,  when  they \nmet,  should  have  all  the  powers  they  themselves  en- \njoyed, except  as  to  the  choice  of  magistrates,  which \nthey  retained.  It  was  at  this  time  prescribed  that \nthe  freemen  should  swear  allegiance  to  the  govern- \nment in  the  use  of  the  following  words : \n\n\"  I,  A.  B.,  being  by  God's  providence  an  inhabitant \nand  freeman  within  the  jurisdiction  of  this  common- \nwealth, do  freely  acknowledge  myself  to  be  subject  to \nthe  government  thereof,  and  therefore  do  here  swear,  by \nthe  great  and  dreadful  name  of  the  Everliving  God,  that \nI  will  be  true  and  faithful  to  the  same,  and  will  accord- \ningly yield   assistance  and  support  thereunto,  with  my \n\n\n86       THE  GOVERNMENT  BECOMES  MORE  POPULAR. \n\nperson  and  estate,  as  in  equity  I  am  bound,  and  will  also \ntruly  endeavor  to  maintain  and  preserve  all  the  liberties \nand  privileges  thereof,  submitting  myself  to  the  whole- \nsome laws  and  orders  made  and  established  by  the  same  ; \nand  further,  that  I  will  not  plot  nor  practise  any  evil \nagainst  it,  nor  consent  to  any  that  shall  do  so,  but  will \ntimely  discover  and  reveal  to  lawful  authority  now  here \nestablished  for  the  speedy  preventing  thereof.  More- \nover, I  do  solemnly  bind  myself  in  the  sight  of  God,  that, \nwhen  I  shall  be  called  to  give  my  vote  touching  any \nsuch  matter  of  this  state,  wherein  freemen  are  to  deal,  I \nwill  give  my  vote  and  suffrage  as  I  shall  judge  in  mine \nown  conscience  may  best  conduce  and  tend  to  the  public \nweal  of  the  body,  without  respect  of  persons,  or  favor  of \nany  man.     So  help  me  God,  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.\" \n\nThere  were  other  reasons  for  this  establishment  of \na  representative  body.  The  freemen  had  much  in- \ncreased in  number,  and  the  plantations  had  become \nmore  widely  scattered  ;  so  that  it  was  not  only  a \nmatter  of  some  difficulty  to  get  the  men  of  the \ndifferent  settlements  together  in  Boston  often,  but \nit  was  really  dangerous  for  them  all  to  leave  their \nhomes  at  the  same  time,  on  account  of  their  private \nbusiness,  but  more  particularly  because  the  Indians \nwere  likely  to  take  advantage  of  such  occasions  to \nmake  raids  upon  the  defenceless  wives  and  children. \nThus  it  was  that  the  first  legislative  body  arose  in \nBoston.  It  was  the  second  in  point  of  time  in \nAmerica,  having  been  anticipated  by  the  General \nAssembly  of  Virginia,  convened  in  1619,  which  con- \nsisted of  the  governor  and  council  and  two  burgesses \nfrom  each  plantation. \n\n\nLOOKING    TOWARDS  INDEPENDENCE.  87 \n\nThere  were  now  about  three  hundred  and  fifty \nfreemen  in  the  colony,  the  majority  of  whom  lived \nin  Boston,  which  remained  not  only  the  chief  settle- \nment in  the  Massachusetts  colony,  but  also  the \nlargest  place  in  all  the  colonies  until  about  the  time \nof  the  revolutionary  war.  This  numerical  importance \nof  Boston  in  comparison  with  the  other  places  in \nAmerica  for  so  long  a  period  must  be  carefully  re- \nmembered, for  it  accounts  for  many  acts  on  both \nsides  of  the  ocean  that  cannot  otherwise  be  under- \nstood. In  comparison  with  the  body  of  freemen  in \nthe  colony  at  this  time,  the  number  of  magistrates \nwas  very  small  indeed,  for,  though  the  charter  per- \nmitted the  ©lection  of  twenty  assistants,  only  about \none  half  as  many  had  actually  been  chosen  each \nyear,  in  order  that  there  might  be  place  for  those \n\"  men  of  rank  \"  who  were  expected  to  come  over. \nThere  were  now  some  thirteen  ministers,  who  had \ngreat  influence  in  secular  matters,  though  not  per- \nmitted to  hold  ofifice.  It  was  natural  that  their \nadvice  should  be  highly  prized  in  the  public  councils, \nfor  they  were  usually  the  most  fully  educated  per- \nsons in  the  community;  but  it  is  evident  that  in \nsome  cases  their  views  had  altogether  more  weight \nthan  was  best  for  the  people. \n\nThus  the  settlers  built  up  an  original  form  of \ngovernment  under  their  charter,  and  they  repeatedly \nproved  by  their  acts  that  they  were  not  at  all  averse \nto  measures  that  looked  towards  independence  of \nthe  king  of  England.  This  is  shown  in  the  form  of \nthe  Freeman's  Oath,  just  quoted,  for  not  a  word  was \nsaid  in  that  about  loyalty  to  the  king,  from  under \n\n\n88      THE  GO  VERNMEN T  BECOMES  MORE  POP  ULA R. \n\nwhose  authority  they  professed  never  to  have  be- \ntaken themselves.  The  home  government  did  not \nfail  to  notice  these  assumptions  of  independent \nauthority ;  and  trouble  came  from  them,  aggravated \nas  they  were  by  the  representations  of  those  dis- \naffected persons  who  were  from  time  to  time  sent \nhome  as  unfit  to  dwell  among  the  colonists.  In \n1635  the  Council  for  New  England  surrendered  its \ncharter  to  the  crowm,  and  complained  that  it  was \nunable  to  control  its  own  colonists,  who  had  \"  framed \nunto  themselves  both  new  laws  and  new  conceipts,\" \nin  order  that  they  might  make  themselves  \"  abso- \nlutely masters  of  the  country  and  unconscionable  in \ntheir  new  laws.\"  -\"  Such,\"  writes  the  historian  Gar- \ndiner, \"  was  the  view  of  the  proceedings  of  the \nMassachusetts  settlers  which  prevailed  in  the  Eng- \nHsh  court.\" \n\nAn  amusing  circumstance  gave  rise  to  another \nchange  in  the  management  of  public  affairs,  and \nWinthrop,  in  his  diary,  gives  many  pages  to  an \naccount  of  it,  very  properly  calling  it  a  \"  great \nbusiness  upon  a  very  small  occasion.\"  It  happened \nthat  in  the  year  1636  there  was  a  stray  sow  in \nBoston.  It  was  against  the  rules  of  the  town  for \nvagrant  sows  to  go  about  the  streets,  and  accord- \ningly this  one  was  taken  to  Captain  Robert- Keayne, \nat  the  time  charged  with  the  care  of  estrays, \nand  now  remembered  from  the  more  significant \nfact  that  he  was  the  first  leader  of  that  famous \nbody  of  military  men  called  the  Ancient  and  Hon- \norable Artillery  Company.  Captain  Robert  gave \nas    wide    notice    as    he    could,    through    the    town- \n\n\nGOODY  SHERMAN'S  SOW.  89 \n\ncrier  and  otherwise,  that  the  owner  might  come  and \ntake  his  property  ;  but  no  claimant  appeared,  and \nmore  than  a  year  passed,  he  the  meantime  feeding \nthe  estray  among  his  own  swine.  At  the  proper \ntime,  Captain  Robert  guilelessly  proceeded,  as  usual, \nto  slaughter  one  of  his  swine  ;  and  not  long  after, \ngood-wife  Sherman,  consort  of  a  worthless  fellow, \nwho  was  not  at  the  moment  in  the  colony,  called \nupon  Captain  Keayne  to  see  if  the  sow  that  he  had \ntaken  care  of  so  long  were  not  one  that  she  had  lost \nmonths  previously.  Her  pet  had  \"a  black  spott  vn- \nder  the  eye  of  the  bignesse  of  a  shilling  &  a  ragged \neare,\"  which  traits  the  specimen  in  the  captain's  pen \nhad  not  ;  and  it  occurred  to  the  good-wife-  that  it \nwas  her  animal  which  had  been  slaughtered  !  She \ntherefore  brought  the  matter  before  the  \"  elders  of \nthe  church  \"  of  Boston,  who  patiently  heard  her \nplaint,  and  then  exonerated  the  captain,  whereupon \nshe  took  the  case  before  a  jury,  and,  in  spite  of  the \nfact  that  the  captain  was  unpopular  \"  for  the  hard- \nness of  his  dealings,\"  he  was  again  victorious. \nWhereupon  he  turned  upon  his  accuser  with  a  suit \nfor  defamation  of  character,  and  recovered  fifty \npounds  damages.  The  never-to-be-satisfied  good- \nwife  then  took  the  matter  to  the  great  and  general \ncourt,  and  seven  weary  days  were  occupied  by  that \nhonorable  body  in  hearing  testimony  about  the  spots \nunder  the  eye,  and  the  raggedness  of  the  ear,  after \nwhich  it  appeared,  upon  a  vote,  that  the  majority  of \nthe  magistrates  supported  the  captain,  while  the  ma- \njority of  the  deputies  were  so  prejudiced  against  the \ndoughty  man  of  war  that  they  inclined  to  be  on  the \n\n\n90       THE  GOVERNMENT  BECOMES  MORE  POPULAR. \n\nwoman's  side.  Seven  of  the  deputies,  however, \ndecHned  to  commit  themselves  either  way,  and  the \nresult  was  a  decision  that  the  case  was  \"  not  deter- \nmined,\" because  the  votes  of  five  magistrates  and \nsixteen  deputies  were  required  to  settle  the  question, \nand  these  neither  party  had. \n\nMuch  contention  and  earnestness  of  argument  fol- \nlowed, and  the  members  of  the  court,  but  especially \nthe  magistrates,  were  so  irreverently  spoken  of  that \nWinthrop  and  the  others  found  it  necessary  to  issue \na  true  declaration  of  the  case.  Even  this  did  not \nsatisfy  all  ;  and  Winthrop  was  obliged  to  write  fur- \nther that  \"  the  sow  business  not  being  digested  in \nthe  country,\"  it  had  started  another  question,  which \nwas  the  right  of  the  magistrates  to  a  veto  in  the \ngeneral  court.  Another  long  discussion  followed  ; \nmuch  was  written  on  both  sides,  and  in  March,  i6z|4, \nit  was  voted  that  the  two  branches  of  government \nshould  sit  separately,  and  that  each  should  have  the \nright  of  veto  upon  the  action  of  the  other  ;  that  is, \nthat  an  act,  having  been  passed  by  the  deputies, \nshould  not  be  effective  unless  it  also  passed  the  magis- \ntrates. Thus  was  established  a  principle  which  has \nobtained  in  all  subsequent  governments  formed  in \nAmerica,  and  all  our  legislative  bodies  are  composed \nof  two  houses  voting  separately. \n\nThere  are  two  other  movements  connected  with  the \npolitical  organization  of  the  colony  of  the  Massachu- \nsetts Bay,  which  exerted  great  influence  over  Amer- \nican affairs  ever  afterwards.  At  the  time  that  the \ntown  of  Boston  was  stirred  to  its  foundation  by  the  pre- \nrevolutionary  struggle,  Governor  Hutchinson  wrote  : \n\n\nTHE  POWER   OF  BOSTON  ASA    TOWN.  9 1 \n\n\"  By  an  unfortunate  mistake,  soon  after  the  charter,  a \nlaw  was  passed  which  made  every  town  in  the  province \na  corporation  perfectly  democratic,  every  matter  being \ndetermined  by  the  major  vote  of  the  inhabitants  ;  and, \nalthough  the  intent  of  the  law  was  to  confine  their  pro- \nceedings to  the  immediate  concerns  of  the  town,  yet  for \nmany  years  past  the  town  of  Boston  has  been  used  to \ninterest  itself  in  every  affair  of  moment  which  concerned \nthe  province  in  general.\"  * \n\nThe  name  \"  town  \"  occurs  in  the  second  meeting \nof  the  assistants,  September  7,  1630,  when  Boston, \nCharleton,  and  Watertown  were  named  :  and  it  is \nsaid  that  the  first  \"  town-meeting  \"  was  held  in  Dor- \nchester the  following  year,  for  the  purpose  of  mak- \ning orders  for  the  control  of  the  affairs  of  that  par- \nticular community.f  Very  soon  thereafter  it  became \ncustomary  to  choose  annually  certain  members  of \nthe  plantation  into  whose  hands  the  execution  of \nthe  orders  of  the  meeting  should  be  entrusted  for \nthe  year ;  these  were  first  called  \"  selectmen,\"  at \nCharleton,  in  1635,  and  the  title  was  afterwards \nadopted  throughout  New  England. \n\nThe  gatherings  of  freemen  in  town-meeting  at  the \n\"  beating  of  the  drum,\"  or  otherwise,  became  an \nimportant  item  in  the  education  of  the  New  Eng- \nlanders  in  the  art  of  self-government,  and  Governor \nHutchinson  was  right,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a \nroyalist,  in  thinking   it   \"  an   unfortunate  mistake  \" \n\n*  March  7,  1772,  in  a  letter  to  General  Gage. \n\nf  To  give  the  towns  the  necessary  compactness,  it  was  ordered \nthat  houses  should  not  be  erected  at  a  greater  distance  than  a  half- \nmile  from  the  meeting-house  in  new  plantations. \n\n\n92       THE  GO  VERNMENT  BECOMES  MORE  POPULAR. \n\nthat  established  such  hotbeds  of  patriotism.  In \nthose  meetings,  which  are  purely  democratic,  men \nare  taught  to  stand  up  for  their  opinions,  to  think \nupon  their  feet,  and  to  exercise  many  of  the  talents \nthat  are  vitally  necessary  for  the  legislator  on  a \nbroader  platform.  It  is  because  of  these  town-meet- \nings that  New  England,  the  colony  of  the  Massachu- \nsetts Bay,  and  especially  the  town  of  Boston,  obtained \nand  kept  such  great  influence  in  the  colonies  during \nall  the  earlier  period  of  American  history.  They \nare  themselves  a  heritage  from  our  Anglo-Saxon \nancestors  of  a  remote  period. \n\nThe  next  fundamental  action  on  the  part  of  the \nNew  England  colonists,  in  which,  as  interesting  her- \nself in  every  thing  that  was  connected  with  the \npublic  weal,  Boston  took  her  share,  relates  to  the \ntreatment  of  the  Indians.  These  creatures,  which  the \ncolonists  seemed  truly  to  have  desired  to  bring  to  the \nChristian  faith,  were  looked  upon  as  the  veriest  ruins \nof  mankind,  showing,  in  the  words  of  Cotton  Mather, \nhow  hard  a  master  the  Devil  is  to  his  most  devoted \nvassals.  Connecticut  was,  at  the  time  of  the  settle- \nment of  Boston,  more  thickly  occupied  than  any \nother  portion  of  New  England  by  the  savages,  and \nthey  had,  in  1633,  murdered  one  John  Stone,  who \nhad  been  banished  from  Boston  for  immoralities. \nThey  afterwards  murdered  others.  There  was \ngreat  uneasiness  in  Boston,  and  it  was  thought \nnecessary  to  take  positive  steps  for  the  protection \nof  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  Englishmen  in  Con- \nnecticut, many  of  whom  had  gone  from  Boston  and \nthe  vicinity. \n\n\nTHE  PEQUODS   EXTERMINATED.  93 \n\nA  frightful  war  against  the  Indians  was  entered \nupon,  in  which  Governor  Endicott,  Captain  John \nUnderhill,  and  Captain  John  Mason  led  the  forces  of \nthe  colonists.  The  campaign  was  short  and  terribly \nearnest.  The  Pequods  were  exterminated,  those  that \nwere  not  killed  being  sold  into  slavery  in  New \nEngland  and  the  West  Indies ;  no  mercy  was \ngiven  them,  for  the  soldiers  verily  believed  them- \nselves agents  of  the  God  whom  they  worshipped \nin  punishing  the  savages  as  enemies  of  the  saints. \nAnd  the  land  had  rest  from  the  Indians  forty \nyears.* \n\nThe  Indians  were  not  the  only  enemies  against \nwhom  the  colonists  had  to  protect  themselves.  The \nattempt  was  made  to  divide  the  councils  of  the  sav- \nages by  making  friends  with  one  tribe,  in  the  hope  of \nthus  being  protected  against  the  others  ;  but  this \ninvolved  the  colonists  in  many  difficulties,  and  it  was \na  policy  not  possible  in  the  case  of  the  French  and \nDutch  colonists  on  the  east  and  on  the  west,  who \nwere  much  feared.  The  colonists  nearest  the  settle- \nments of  the  Dutch  felt  that  they  were  in  an  unpro- \ntected condition,  and  in  1637  some  magistrates  and \nministers  from  Connecticut  being  in  Boston  in  at- \ntendance upon  a  synod,  called  to  take  action  in \nregard  to  the  spread  of  the  dreaded  Antinomianism, \na  meeting  was  held  to  agree  if  possible  upon  a  con- \nfederation  for  the   purpose   of    mutual    protection; \n\n*  For  the  details  of  this  bloody  struggle  the  reader  who  is  curious \non  the  subject  is  referred  to  the  \"  Life  of  John  Mason,\"  by  Dr. \nGeo.  E.  Ellis;  to  Palfrey's  \"New  England,\"  vol.  i.  ;  and  to \nWinsor's  \"  Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  vol.  i.,  p.  253. \n\n\n94       THE  GOVERNMENT  BECOMES  MORE  POPULAR. \n\nbut    it    failed    to    settle    any    principles    of    union. \nMassachusetts  was  ready  for  union,  but  Connecticut \ndid   not  approve  of  the  plan  which  was  proposed. \nThe  following  year  the  governor  of  Connecticut  and \nthe  Reverend  Mr.  Hooker,  the  most  prominent  min- \nister there,  were  in   Boston  for  a  month  upon  the \nsame  business ;  but  no  action  was  taken  then.     In \nthe  autumn  of  1642  Connecticut  made  new  overtures, \nand  a  consultation  between  the  magistrates  of  Bos- \nton and  the  deputies  from  Boston  and  the  neighbor- \ning   towns,    and    commissioners     from     Plymouth, \nConnecticut,    and    New    Haven    was    planned,    but \nnothing  was  done   until  spring.     Then   the  general \ncourt  appointed  a  committee  for  the  same  purpose, \nand    articles    of    confederation    were    agreed    upon. \nThe    document    which    was    drawn    up    recited   the \nobjects  of  the  league  to  be,  to  preserve  and  propa- \ngate the  truth  and  liberties  of  the  gospel,  and  to \nensure  the  mutual  safety  and  welfare  of  the  colonies. \nA   preamble  gave  the    reasons    for  the  union.       It \nsaid  that  all  the  colonists  came  from  Eno-land  for  the \nsame  purpose ;  that  they  were  then  scattered  upon \nthe  sea-coasts  and  rivers  farther  than  had  been  in- \ntended ;  that  they  were  encompassed  by  people  of \nseveral  nations  and  of  strange  languages  ;  that  the \nnatives  had  committed  \"  sundry  insolences  and  out- \nrages  upon  several  plantations,\"  and   were  at  that \ntime  combined  against  the  English  ;  that  there  were \ndistractions  in  England  which  made  it  difficult  to  get \nadvice  or  protection  from  that  quarter,  and  that  for \nthese   reasons  the   colonies  formed  themselves  into \none  nation,  to  be  called  the  United  Colonies  of  New \n\n\nTHE  FIRST  CONFEDERATION. \n\n\n95 \n\n\nEngland.  Here  was  another  of  the  signs  of  inde- \npendence that  may  be  noted  in  the  history  of  the \ncolonists  of  Boston.  It  was  the  first  combination  of \nthe  sort  in  American  story,  and  it  pointed  out  to  the \nchildren  of  the  men  who  entered  into  it  a  mode  by \nwhich  they  could  make  still  more  comprehensive  and \ndurable  unions. \n\n\n^^^s^^^^^^ \n\n^^^SSR^^^^^ \n\n^^^^^^SR^^S \n\nfm^^^^p^^^^^^m \n\n^^^^B^^p \n\n^^^^^^^B \n\n^^^^^^^^^^^^^Mii^ \n\n^^teM^^^^^!^^^^^ \n\n^^^^^fe^^^^^^^^^^^^i3^ \n\n''i^ssT^^T^^.^tA^.^'f-lif^^^^ \n\nIX. \n\nWELCOME   AND    UNWELCOME   VISITORS. \n\nFrom  the  first  settlement  of  the  promontory  of \nBoston  the  population  increased  in  a  promising  way \nuntil  the  year  1640,  when  certain  events  in  the \nmother-country  caused  emigration  almost  to  cease. \nLaud,  \"  the  great  enemy  \"  of  New  England,  as  Win- \nthrop  properly  stigmatizes  him,  with  many  others \nof  high  condition,  had  been  imprisoned  and  called \nto  account  by  parliament,  and  it  seemed  that  there \nwas  to  be  a  reformation  in  both  church  and  state,  so \nthat  it  would  not  be  necessary  for  any  to  remove \nthemselves  over  seas  for  the  sake  of  peace.  It  has \nbeen  estimated  that  during  the  ten  years  of  great \nactivity  in  emigration  some  twenty  thousand  persons \nhad  found  their  way  to  New  England,  a  large  number \nof  whom  made  Boston  their  home.  In  1638  alone  it \nis  said  that  twenty  ships  brought  three  thousand  pas- \nsengers to  that  port. \n\nThese  immigrants  made  business  brisk  in  Boston ; \nthey  brought  articles  that  the  colonists  needed,  and \nthey  made  a  market  for  all  that  the  colonists  pro- \nduced. When  the  incoming  flood  stopped  there \nwas  a  small  financial  panic;  small  in  comparison \nwith  many  that  have  afiflicted  American  cities  since, \n\n96 \n\n\nTHE    CRYING   SIN   OF  MAN-STEALING,  97 \n\nbut  great  enough  to  give  much  solicitude  to  Gov- \nernor Winthrop.  the  patriarchal  father  of  the  town \nand  the  colony.  A  cow  worth  twenty  pounds  in \n1640  would  bring  not  more  than  four  or  five  pounds \nthe  following  year ;  and  the  man  who  was  accus- \ntomed to  spare  one  cow  a  year  from  his  herd  and  to \nclothe  his  family  with  the  price  of  it,  was  now  in  a \nstrait.  There  had,  of  course,  been  straits  and  dififi- \nculties  at  the  beginning  of  the  settlement ;  but  they \nhad  been  manfully  overcome,  and  industry  had  pro- \nduced provisions  enough  for  home  consumption  and \nan  overplus  for  exportation.  The  trade  for  the  first \nseven  years  was  small ;  consisting  of  bartering  toys, \ntools,  and  clothing  with  the  natives  for  furs  and \nskins.  When  the  settlers  found  themselves  able  to \nproduce  a  surplus,  a  trade  sprung  up  with  the  Bar- \nbadoes,  the  West  Indies,  and  other  places  from \nwhich  a  profit  was  made  that  permitted  the  impor- \ntation of  manufactured  goods  from  England.  Then \none  vessel  ventured  to  the  coast  of  Guinea  and \nbrought  away  slaves,  for  which  its  owners  were \ncalled  to  answer,  the  general  court  bearing  witness \nto  \"  the  heinous  and  crying  sin  of  man-stealing,\" \nand  ordering  the  return  of  the  negroes.  By  degrees \nit  was  found  possible  to  spare  some  hands  from \nfarming,  and  they  were  employed  in  getting  out \nlumber  for  houses,  in  the  fisheries,  or  in  building \nvessels  for  the  coasting  trade.  Merchants  were  in \ntime  tempted  to  come  to  Boston  and  commerce  be- \ngan. As  the  usual  supplies  of  manufactured  goods \nbecame  less  and  less,  it  was  seen  that  articles  of  that \nsort  must  be  produced  by  the  colonists  themselves, \n\n\n98         WELCOME  AND    UNWELCOME    VISITORS. \n\nand  they  \"  fell  to  a  manufacture  of  cotton,  whereof \nthey  had  store  from  Barbadoes,  and  hemp  and  flax.\" \nThen  the  now  ancient  spinning-wheel  began  to  whirr, \nand  the  thump  of  the  drowsy  loom  was  heard  day \nby  day  in  the  dwellings  of  the  Boston  housewife.  For \ntwo  hundred  years  these  homely  implements  of  in- \ndustry were  familiar  objects  in  all  quarters  of  New \nEngland.  All  of  these  steps  were  taken  in  the  most \nnatural  process,  and  not  by  any  calculation  on  the \npart  of  the  colonists.  The  extent  of  the  suffer- \ning that  followed  the  cessation  of  immigration \nmay  be  guessed  at  from  the  correspondence  of  the \ntown. \n\nCorn  was  made  legal  tender  in  the  payment  of \ndebts,  and  chosen  men  were  sent  to  England  to \napologize  for  the  slowness  with  which  obligations \nwere  paid.  Some  of  the  less  stable  of  the  colonists \nreturned  to  England  ;  others  betook  themselves  to \nthe  West  Indies  or  to  the  Dutch  settlements.  Mr, \nWinthrop  was  harassed  by  all  this,  and  there  was \nmuch  disputation  about  the  righteousness  and  lib- \nerty of  removing  \"  for  outward  advantages.\"  Win- \nthrop thought  it  would  be  hard  to  make  it  clear  to \none's   conscience   that    it  was   rieht   for  those   who \n\n\n'&• \n\n\ncame  together  in  a  wilderness  where  were  nothing \nbut  wild  beasts  and  beast-like  men,  and  confederated \nthemselves  in  church  and  state,  thus  impliedly  at \nleast  binding  themselves  to  support  one  another  and \nthe  society  they  had  formed,  to  break  away  without \nthe  consent  of  those  who  remained.  He  said  to \nhimself :  \"  Ask  thy  conscience  if  thou  wouldst  have \nplucked  up  thy  stakes,  and  brought  thy  family  three \n\n\nA    SHIP   FROM  ROCHELLE. \n\n\n99 \n\n\nthousand  miles,  if  thou  hadest  expected  that  all  or \nmost  would  have  forsaken  thee  there.\" \n\nThe  rise  of  the  trade  spirit  led  to  a  curious  com- \nplication with  the  French  of  Acadie,  to  which  early \nhistorians  have  given  a  prominence  that  proves  its \ngreat  importance  in  their  estimation.  By  the  treaty \nbetween  France  and  England  in  1632,  France  re- \nceived back  all  of  the  territory  in  America  of  which \nEngland  had  despoiled  her,  and  very  soon  after  that \ntime  two  rival  and  unscrupulous  \"  governors  of \nAcadie \"  appear  on  the  scenes,  the  one  of  whom, \nLa  Tour,  professed  to  be  a  Protestant,  and  the \nother,  d'Aulnay,  was  evidently  a  zealous  partisan \nof  the  Catholic  church.  There  was  an  opportunity \nfor  Boston  to  increase  the  trade  which  it  had  already \nbegun  in  that  quarter,  and  though  Endicott  wrote \nto  Winthrop  that  he  feared  there  would  be  \"  little \ncomfort  in  having  any  thing  to  do  with  these  idola- \ntrous French,\"  the  interests  of  Boston  were  so \nstrongly  involved  in  making  alliance  with  one  party \nor  the  other  that  in  process  of  time  a  treaty  was \nentered  into  with  the  professed  Protestant. \n\nIt  was  in  June,  1643.  The  governor  and  his \nfamily  were  on  the  island  in  the  harbor  known  as \nthe  Governor's  Garden,  now  Governor's  Island,  en- \njoying the  summer  air  ;  in  a  boat  on  the  water  was \nMrs.  Gibbons,  wife  of  Captain  Edward  Gibbons, \ngoing  down  with  her  children  to  her  husband's  farm \nat  Pullen  Point,  in  the  present  town  of  Winthrop. \nA  French  ship  from  Rochelle  came  up  the  harbor, \nbringing  La  Tour,  the  Protestant  Acadian  governor. \nOne  of  his  gentlemen  recognized   Mrs.  Gibbons  as \n\n\nlOO      WELCOME   AND    UNWELCOME    VISITORS. \n\none  at  whose  house  he  had  been  hospitably  enter- \ntained, and  La  Tour  sent  off  his  shallop  to  go  to \nspeak  to  her ;  but  she,  afraid  when  she  saw  so  many \nforeigners  coming  towards  her,  caused  her  boat  to \nbe  turned  towards  the  Governor's  Garden  and  has- \ntened to  the  land.  There  she  found  Winthrop,  with \nhis  wife,  two  of  his  sons,  and  the  wife  of  another \nson.  La  Tour  landed  and  explained  to  the  governor \nthat  he  had  come  from  France,  intending  to  make \nland  at  his  fort  at  St.  John's,  but  that  his  enemy  had \nblockaded  it,  and  he  now  came  to  ask  help  to  enable \nhim  to  force  an  entrance.  Meantime  Mrs.  Gibbons \nwas  sent  to  Boston  in  the  governor's  boat,  and  she \ngave  information  of  the  sudden  coming  of  the \nFrench.  Winthrop  declined  to  answer  La  Tour \nuntil  he  had  consulted  other  members  of  the  magis- \ntracy, and  the  party  took  supper  together,  after \nwhich  all  started  to  Boston  in  La  Tour's  boat ;  but \nthe  towns  of  Boston  and  Charleton,  having  learned \nthe  condition  of  affairs,  and  knowing  that  the  govern- \nor was  quite  in  the  Frenchman's  power,  fitted  out \nthree  shallops  of  armed  men  to  guard  him  and \naccompany  him  home.  The  Frenchman  was  sent  to \nlodge  at  Captain  Gibbons's ;  but  the  facts  of  the  day \nshowed  the  citizens  how  defenceless  their  town  was, \nfor  the  strangers,  had  they  been  so  disposed,  might \nhave  captured  the  governor  and  his  family,  and  Mrs. \nGibbons  and  her  attendants,  as  well  as  all  the  ships \nin  the  harbor,  if,  indeed,  they  had  not  sacked  the \nlittle  town. \n\nThe  reply  that  was  made  to  the  request  of  La \nTour  created  much  ill-feeling  in  the  colony.  It  was \ndetermined  not  to  afford  him  any  help,  though  he \n\n\nA    QUESTION   OF  NEUTRALITY.  lOI \n\nwas  given  to  understand  that  he  was  at  liberty  to \nmake  whatever  bargains  he  pleased  with  owners  of \nships  that  he  could  find  in  the  harbor.  La  Tour \nremained  in  Boston  a  little  more  than  a  month, \nbehaving  himself  like  a  gentleman  and  a  Protestant ; \ngoing  to  meeting  with  the  governor  ;  receiving  enter- \ntainment at  the  hands  of  many  of  the  town  \"  in  their \nhouses  and  at  table  \"  ;  and  at  last  sailing  away  with \nfour  ships  and  a  pinnace,  the  chiefest  of  which  had \nsixteen  pieces  of  ordnance  and  was  very  well  manned \nand  fitted  for  fighting,  and  \"  the  rest  proportionable.\" \nThe  governor  was  overwhelmed  with  correspond- \nence upon  the  matter  of  this  decision  ;  and  a  meet- \ning of  neighboring  magistrates,  elders,  and  deputies \nwas  held  to  consider  \"  whether  it  were  lawful  for \nChristians  to  aid  idolators,  and  how  far  we  may  hold \ncommunion  with  them.\"  Indeed,  weighty  questions \nof  neutrality  and  intervention  were  involved,  and \ndoubtless  Winthrop's  action  would  not  stand  the \ntest  of  modern  international  law.  The  contemporary \ndiscussion  brought  into  the  consideration  the  cases \nof  Jehoshaphat,  Solomon  and  the  Queen  of  Sheba, \nAhab  and  Ahaziah,  the  king  of  Babylon  and  Pharaoh, \nbut  it  did  not  change  the  practical  policy  that  Win- \nthrop  had  adopted.  The  rivals  kept  up  their  war- \nfare for  several  years,  until,  in  1650  or  165 1,  d'Aul- \nnay  died,  and  in  1652  his  widow  married  her  husband's \nenemy.  Though  La  Tour  and  the  widow  disappear \nfrom  history,  they  left  a  number  of  descendants,  and \nthe  race  still  lives  in  Nova  Scotia.* \n\n*  The  story  of  the  negotiations  with  La  Tour  and  d'Aulnay  is \ngiven  with  much  detail  in  Hutchinson  (ed.  1755),  pp.  128-135  ;  in \nHubbard,   chapter  liv.  ;    and   in  Winsor's   \"  Memorial   History  of \n\n\nI02      WELCOME  AND    UNWELCOME    VISITORS. \n\nThe  Puritans  of  Boston  were  Protestants  of  the \nProtestants,  and  though  they  were  jealous  of  having \namong  them  any  persons  who  held  and  taught  other \ndoctrines  than  their  own,  they  were  naturally  most \nof  all  jealous  of  those  who  professed  the  \"  religion  of \nthe  court  of  Rome,\"  and  of  those  holding  to  this, \nthe  \"  old  religion,\"  a  member  of  one  of  the  orders  of \nthe  priesthood,  especially  the  Jesuit  order,  was  the \nmost  feared  and  hated.  For  this  reason,  taking  into \nconsideration  \"  the  great  wars,  combustions,  and \ndivisions \"  in  Europe,  which  seemed  to  be  chiefly \n\"  raised  and  fomented  by  the  secret  underminings \nand  Solicitations  of  those  of  the  Jesuitical  order,\"  the \ngeneral  court  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  ordered  that \nno  Jesuit  or  spiritual  or  ecclesiastical  person  ordained \nby  authority  of  the  Pope  of  Rome  should  at  any \ntime  be  allowed  within  the  colony  ;  that  if  any  such \nfound  entrance,  he  should  be  banished,  and  on  re- \nturning he  should  be  put  to  death.  Survivors  from \nshipwreck,  and  public  messengers  behaving  them- \nselves inoffensively  and  departing  promptly,  were \nexcepted.  Some  \"  papistical  \"  persons  were  in  the \ncompany  of  La  Tour  and  d'Aulnay,  but  they  were \ncarefully  watched,  and  apparently  no  harm  came \nfrom  them,  save  the  discussion  that  has  been  men- \ntioned. On  one  occasion  two  of  these  characters \nwere  brought  to  Boston  from  their  vessel  to  confer \nwith  Mr.  Cotton,  which  was  certainly  safe. \n\nThere  was  a  devoted  Jesuit  missionary  heroically \n\nBoston,\"  vol.  i.,  pp.  282-295  ;  but  it  must  also  be  said  that  almost \nevery  thing  that  one  wishes  to  learn  is  found  in  Mr.  Winsor's  store- \nhouse of  Boston  history. \n\n\nTHE  FIRST  MASS  IN  BOSTON.  103 \n\nlaboring  among  the  Abenaquis  in  Acadie  at  this \ntime.  Governor  Winthrop  wrote  to  the  governor  of \nCanada  proposing  free  trade  between  the  colonies, \nand  in  1650  this  missionary,  whose  name  was  Gabriel \nDruilletes,  was  sent  to  Boston  to  confer  on  the  sub- \nject. He  appeared  to  the  English  first  near  the \npresent  site  of  Augusta,  Maine,  where  he  met  John \nWinslow  of  Plymouth,  then  in  charge  of  the  trading \npost  of  his  colony  at  that  point.  The  conference  be- \ntween the  two  was  agreeable,  and  the  Jesuit  believed \nthat  the  Protestant  was  as  much  interested  in  the \nconversion  of  the  Indians  as  he  was  himself.  Con- \ntinuing his  journey,  the  father  reached  Charlestown, \nwhere  he  was  commended  to  the  hands  of  the  same \nEdward  Gibbons,  of  whom  we  read  in  the  account \nof  the  sojourn  of  La  Tour.  This  hospitable  and \nnot  very  radical  Protestant  gave  the  Jesuit  a  key  to \na  private  apartment  in  his  house  where  he  was  at \nliberty  to  \"  exercise  his  religion  \"  without  disturb- \nance, and  there  doubtless  the  first  mass  in  Boston \nwas  said. \n\nDruilletes  presented  his  credentials  in  due  time \nto  Governor  Dudley,  who  afterwards  received  him \nat  dinner,  and  listened  to  his  message  in  company \nwith  other  magistrates  and  one  deputy.  From  this \ninterview,  Druilletes  went  to  Plymouth,  where  he \nlodged  with  one  of  the  persons  interested  in  the \nMaine  trade.  He  felt  encouraged  here,  as  he  had  in \n.  Boston,  and  on  the  day  before  Christmas  he  returned \nto  the  capital  of  the  Bay  colony,  stopping  at  a  place \nthat  he  calls  \"  Rogsbray,\"  better  known  to  us  as \nRoxbury,  where  he  was  entertained  by  the  minister, \n\n\n104       WELCOME  AND  UNWELCOME  VISITORS. \n\nwho  was  giving  instruction  to  some  savages,  just  as \nDruilletes  had  been  accustomed  to  do  in  the  northern \nwoods.  This  minister  he  calls  \"  Master  heliot.\"  It \nwas  no  less  a  person  than  the  Reverend  John  Eliot, \nthe  apostle  to  the  Indians,  who  had  arrived  on  the \nsame  ship  that  brought  Mrs.  Winthrop,  and  was \nat  this  time  full  of  zeal  in  his  new  work  of  preaching \nto  the  Indians.  Mr.  Eliot  urged  his  guest  to  spend \nthe  winter  with  him,  in  order  to  avoid  the  severe \njourney  through  the  wilderness  to  Canada  ;  but  the \nJesuit  declined,  and  after  resting  one  night,  resumed \nhis  journey  to  Boston,  where  again  he  was  guest \nof  Captain  Gibbons.  The  purpose  of  the  governor \nof  Canada  in  sending  Druilletes  to  Boston  was  to \ngain  the  help  of  the  colonists  in  his  war  with  the \nIroquois ;  but  the  settlers  both  there  and  at  Ply- \nmouth, saw  that  to  take  such  a  step  would  involve \nthem  in  difficulties  with  other  tribes  that  had  been \nfriendly  to  them.  They  gave  the  Jesuit  diplomatic \nencouragement,  and  entertained  him  very  hospita- \nbly, but  that  was  all.  They  were  ready  for  trade, \nbut  they  were  determined  to  avoid  an  Indian  war,  if \npossible. \n\nWhen  the  Antinomians  had  been  silenced  there \nwas  still  no  rest  to  the  colonists  from  intruders \nholding  heterodox  views  ;  and  in  the  year  1644,  it \nwas  thought  necessary  to  take  sharp  action  against \nanother  class  of  heretics.  A  man  named  Painter  re- \nfused to  have  his  infant  baptized  ;  said  that  the  cus. \ntom  was  antichristian  ;  and  when  the  church,  of \nwhich  his  wife  was  a  member,  enjoined  him  to  sub- \nmit the  child  to  the  ordinance,  he  still  refused  ;  upon \n\n\nFEAR   OF  ANABAPTISTS.  105 \n\nwhich  he  was  brought  to  court.  He  was  sentenced \nto  be  whipped,  the  magistrates  specially  insisting \nthat  it  was  not  for  holding  an  opinion,  but  for \n\"  reproaching  the  Lord's  ordinance,\"  and  for  bold \nand  evil  behavior,  some  men  his  neighbors  testifying \nthat  he  was  very  loose  in  his  conduct,  and  given  to \nmuch  lying  and  idleness. \n\nThe  court  determined  to  be  armed  in  time  against \noffenders  like  Painter.  They  had  read,  as  we  have \nseen,  of  the  terrible  work  wrought  by  \"  Anabap- \ntists \"  in  Munster ;  how  they  had  been  \"  incendiaries \nof  commonwealths,\"  and  \"  troublers  of  churches  \"  ; \nand  how  with  the  error  about  baptism  of  children \nthey  had  usually  held  others,  which  they  adroitly \nconcealed  until  \"  they  spied  out  a  fit  advantage  and \nopportunity  to  vent  them.\"  It  was  therefore  ordered \nthat  any  persons  who  held  such  views  wilfully  and \nobstinately,  should  be  sentenced  to  banishment. \nThe  \"  Anabaptist  \"  of  those  days  was  simply  a  Bap- \ntist :  he  was  one  who  believed  in  the  necessity  of \nbeing  baptized  in  adult  years,  and  as  it  was  supposed \nthat  all  persons  had  been  baptized  in  infancy  (as  all \nchildren  of  Catholic  parents  had),  this  was  a  re- \nbaptism.  The  Anabaptists  of  Munster  \"  denied  the \nauthority  of  magistrates,  the  lawfulness  of  taking \noaths,  and  almost  all  the  Christian  doctrines,  and \nwere  guilty  of  several  gross  enormities,  such  as  po- \nlygamy, rebellion,  theft,  and  murder,\"  and  all  their \nextravagances  were  charged  upon  the  opposers  of \ninfant  baptism.  No  wonder  the  colonists  were \nalarmed,  if  they  believed  such  stories  as  were  told \nof  the  Anabaptists  ;  and  yet  they  are  the  people  of \n\n\nI06      WELCOME  AND  UNWELCOME  VISITORS. \n\nwhom  Judge  Story  said  that  in  Rhode  Island  they \nwere  the  first  to  declare  in  laws  that  \"  conscience \nshould  be  free  and  that  men  should  not  be  punished \nfor  worshipping  God  in  the  way  that  they  are  per- \nsuaded he  requires.\"  The  people  of  Boston  had \ngood  authority  for  fearing  the  Anabaptists,  for \nJeremy  Taylor,  the  great  and  mild  divine,  wrote  in \nhis  \"  Liberty  of  Prophesying,\"  that  their  doctrines \nwere  as  much  to  be  rooted  out  as  the  greatest  pest \nand  nuisance  to  the  public  interest. \n\nThe  men  of  Boston  were  not,  however,  all  agreed \nin  the  matter  of  punishing  Baptists,  though  there \nwas  not  very  much  dissent.  The  town  showed  that \nthe  character  which  Governor  Hutchinson  gives  it \nwas  deserved  at  this  early  period,  for  in  1649  the \ncourt  addressed  a  letter  to  the  brethren  at  Plymouth \npathetically  remonstrating  with  them  for  harboring \nBaptists  in  that  sister  colony,  which,  they  urged,  was \nnot  in  accordance  with  the  articles  of  confederation. \nTo  this  the  Plymouth  men  sent  no  very  hearty \nresponse,  and  the  court  at  Boston  was  accordingly \ngrieved.  The  story  of  the  dealings  of  Boston  with \nthe  Baptists  is  a  disagreeable  one,  and  may  be  passed \nover  after  mentioning  one  notable  case,  which  brings \nus  to  the  origin  of  the  college  of  the  colony. \n\nIn  the  year  1636,  the  court  ordered  that  a  public \nschool  should  be  established  somewhere.  The  fol- \nlowing year  it  was  decided  to  put  it  at  New  Town, \nand  a  committee  was  appointed  to  carry  the  order \ninto  effect.  This  committee  was  composed  of  Gov- \nernor Winthrop,  John  Cotton,  Thomas  Shepard,  and \nfour  others,  who  were  either  ministers  or  elders.     In \n\n\nMJ?.  EATON  BEATS  MR.  BKISCOE.  lOJ \n\n1638  it  was  ordered  that  New  Town  should  be  called \nCambridge,  in  consideration  of  the  fact  that  a  num- \nber of  the  persons  interested  in  the  school  were \ngraduates  of  the  University  at  Old  Cambridge.  In \nMarch,  1639,  it  was  voted  that  the  \"  colledge  \"  to  be \nbuilt  at  Cambridge  should  be  known  as  Harvard \nCollege,  in  consequence  of  the  fact  that  the  Rev- \nerend John  Harvard  had  become  its  benefactor. \nOne  Nathaniel  Eaton  was  appointed  \"  Schoolmas- \nter,\" for  the  name  college  was  not  immediately \nadopted  in  common  usage.  It  was  not  long  before \nEaton  was  accused  before  the  court  for  \"  cruel  and \nbarbarous  beating \"  of  his  usher,  Mr.  Nathaniel \nBriscoe,  and  he  was  in  consequence  fined  heavily, \ndischarged  from  keeping  the  school,  and  directed  to \ngive  Mr.  Briscoe  thirty  pounds  for  the  wrong  done \nhim. \n\nIt  appears  that  Mr.  Eaton's  ideas  of  proper  cor- \nporal punishment  allowed  him  to  beat  Mr.  Briscoe \nfor  the  space  of  about  two  hours  with  a  \"  walnut- \ntree  plant,  big  enough  to  have  killed  a  horse,  and  a \nyard  in  length.\"  Not  unnaturally,  during  the  two \nhours  of  this  unscholarly  exercise,  Mr.  Briscoe \nthought  that  he  was  about  to  be  murdered,  whereupon \nhe  \"  fell  to  prayer,\"  and  Mr.  Eaton  only  rained  his \nblows  the  harder,  accusing  his  poor  usher  of  \"  taking \nthe  name  of  God  in  vain.\"  It  came  out,  upon  the  trial \nwhich  ensued,  that  it  was  Mr.  Eaton's  usual  custom \nto  beat  his  pupils  in  this  way  ;  and  besides,  that  he \nordinarily  furnished  them  but  \"  porridge  and  pud- \nding, and  that  very  homely,\"  for  their  diet,  though \ntheir    friends    gave    him    large    allowance    for    their \n\n\nI08       WELCOME   AND  UNWELCOME   VISITORS. \n\nboard.*  The  reprobate  schoolmaster  fled  from  the \njurisdiction,  and  was  reported  to  have  gone  to  Vir- \nginia, where  \"  he  was  given  up  of  God  to  extreme \npride  and  sensuality,  being  usually  drunken,  as  the \ncustom  is  there.\" \n\nThis  was  not  a  good  beginning  for  the  college  of \nthe  colony ;  but  the  error  was  soon  rectified,  and,  in \n1640,  the  able  and  engaging,  though  perhaps  liti- \ngious, Henry  Dunster  was  made  president  of  the \nyoung  institution,  just  after  he  had  arrived  in  Boston. \nHe  was,  like  John  Harvard,  a  graduate  of  Emanuel \nCollege,  Cambridge,  and  he  adopted  the  course  of \nstudy  of  the  English  university,  aiming  at  the  edu- \ncation of  a  learned  ministry.  The  school  soon \nearned  a  reputation  sufificient  to  draw  students  from \nthe  other  side  of  the  sea.  In  its  twelfth  year  the \ncollege  was  made  a  corporation,  Mr.  Dunster  being \nconfirmed  in  his  ofifice  as  president ;  but  doubts  in \ntime  began  to  be  expressed  regarding  his  soundness \nin  the  faith,  and  clouds  were  rising  about  his  path. \n\nMr.  Dunster  was  a  member  of  the  church  of  the \nReverend  Thomas  Shepard,  and  when  that  \"  soul- \nravishing \"  preacher  died,  in  1649,  Dunster  occupied \nhis  pulpit  until  a  successor  was  found.  By  insensi- \nble degrees  the  president  of  Harvard  College  came \nto  hold  doubts  regarding  the  doctrine  of  baptism, \nand,  in  1653,  he  found  himself  unable  to  agree  with \n\n*  Eaton's  wife  confessed  that  the  flour  of  which  the  porridge  was \nmade  was  not  \"so  fine  as  it  might  be,  nor  so  well  boiled  or  stirred  \"  ; \nand  that  when  tlie  pupils  called  for  more  butter  and  cheese,  they \nwere  denied  ;  and  she  confessed  her  sin  in  giving  them  \"  bad  fish,\" \nand  for  \"  letting  the  blackamoor  sleep  in  Sam  Hough's  sheet  and \npillow-bier,\"  and  in  giving  them  bread  made  of  heated  sour  meal. \n\n\nMR.  DUNSTER   RESIGNS.  1 09 \n\nhis  church  on  the  subject.  A  young  minister  named \nMitchell,  who  succeeded  Shepard,  remonstrated  with \nthe  president  for  his  \"  intolerable  offence,\"  but,  as  he \nfound  misgivings  arising  in  his  own  mind,  he  with- \ndrew, with  such  a  \"strange  confusion  and  sickliness \nupon  his  spirit \"  that  his  study  for  the  following \nSabbath  was  interrupted.  He  was  thereafter  afraid \nto  go  needlessly  to  Mr.  Dunster,  because  he  detected \n\"venom  and  poison  in  his  insinuations.\"  When \nMr.  Mitchell's  discoveries  came  to  the  knowledg-e  of \nothers,  it  was  found  necessary  for  Mr.  Dunster  to \nvacate  his  office  as  teacher  of  orthodox  youth,  and \nhe  accordingly  resigned  his  position  and  withdrew \nfrom  Cambridge.*     Ten  years  afterwards  the  First \n\n*  Any  one  curious  in  regard  to  Mr.  Dunster's  ability  as  a  literary \ncritic  should  read  the  \"  Bay  Psalm  Book,\"  the  first  American  printed \nbook,  prepared  by  others,  but  afterwards  submitted  to  the  president \nthat  he  might  \"  use  a  little  more  art  upon  it  \"  (1650).  The  verses \nare,  the  authors  confess,  \"  not  always  so  smooth  and  elegant  as  some \nmay  desire  or  expect,\"  even  in  their  refined  state.  The  nineteenth \nPsalm  began  thus  : \n\n\"  The  heavens  do  declare \nThe  majesty  of  God  ; \nAlso  the  firmament  shows  forth \nHis  handiwork  abroad.\" \n\nJoseph   Addison  did  better  threescore  years  later,   when  he  wrote \n\"The  spacious  firmament  on  high.\"     The  third  edition  (which  is \nthe  one  \"  revised  and  refined  \"  by  Dunster)  contains  some  spiritual \nsongs,  in  one  of  which  the  following  lines  occur : \n\"  Gad  the  Kenite,  Heber's  wife \n'bove  women  blest  shall  be. \nAbove  the  women  in  the  tent \n\na  blessed  one  is  she. \nHe  water  ask'd,  she  gave  him  milk  : \n\nin  lordly  dish  she  fetch 'd \nHim  butter  forth  :  unto  the  nail \nshe  forth  her  left  hand  stretched.\" \n\n\nno       WELCOME  AND  UNWELCOME  VISITORS. \n\nBaptist  Society  was  organized  in  Boston,  and,  much \nto  the  dismay  and  scandal  of  many,  it  proved  strong \nenough  to  keep  on  in  its  way.  Its  services  have \nendured  to  this  day. \n\nThe  next  intruders  upon  the  Boston  colonists  were \nmuch  more  troublesome,  and  the  story  of  their  suf- \nferings is  so  sad  that  one  hesitates  to  revive  it,  and \nwe  must  be  permitted  simply  to  sketch  some  of  its \ntraits.  In  the  middle  of  the  summer  of  1656  it  was \nrumored  that  a  ship  in  the  harbor  was  bringing  to \nthe  town  two  women,  from  England,  by  the  way  of \nthe  Barbadoes,  who  had  embraced  the  heretical  doc- \ntrines of  George  Fox.  There  had  been  fears  that \nsome  of  the  Quaker  sect  might  come  to  Boston,  and \nin  May  there  had  been  a  day  of  fasting  on  this \naccount.  A  Quaker  says  of  the  occasion:  \"Two \npoor  women  arriving  in  your  harbor  so  shook  ye,  to \nthe  everlasting  shame  of  you,  and  of  your  established \npeace  and  order,  as  if  a  formidable  army  had  invaded \nyour  borders.\" \n\nThis  was  true,  for  the  authorities  took  almost  as \ngreat  precaution  against  harm  from  Anne  Austin \nand  Mary  Fisher  as  they  would  have  taken  to  pre- \nserve the  town  from  an  armed  invasion.  Acting \nprobably  under  the  law  by  which  Mrs.  Hutchinson \nwas  condemned,  the  master  of  the  ship  was  directed \nto  take  the  women  back  to  the  Barbadoes,  their \nbooks  and  papers  were  to  be  burned,  and  they  them- \nselves to  be  confined  in  the  jail  until  the  ship  Szval- \nlow,  in  which  they  had  come,  should  sail  away. \nHardly  had  these  intruders  been  gotten  rid  of  when \nanother  vessel  arrived  from  the  same  place  with  four \n\n\nTHE  TREATMENT  OF  QUAKERS.  Ill \n\nmen  and  four  women  of  the  like  stripe,  and  they \nreceived  the  same  treatment.  This  was  the  most \nmerciful  dealing  that  was  meted  out  to  any  of  the \nQuakers.  As  soon  as  the  general  court  could  meet, \na  stringent  law  was  passed,  threatening  fines,  im- \nprisonment, banishment,  and  whipping  against  any \n\"  Quakers,  ranters,  or  other  blasphemous  heretics  \" — ' \n\"  fit  instruments  to  propagate  the  kingdom  of \nSathan.\"  The  banishment  was,  at  a  later  period, \nordered  to  be  enforced  by  pain  of  death  in  case  of \nthe  return  of  the  condemned.  This  law,  it  ought  to \nbe  said,  was  passed  by  a  majority  of  one,  and  an \nabsent  deputy  cried  out  in  horror  that  he  would \nhave  crept  to  the  meeting-place  on  his  hands  and \nknees  to  have  prevented  it. \n\nBanished  Quakers  found  that  they  could  go  to \nRhode  Island  and  be  safe,  whereupon  the  New  Eng- \nland Confederation  advised  that  plantation  to  send \nthem  off;  but  the  president  of  Rhode  Island  replied \nthat  there  was  no  law  in  his  jurisdiction  by  which \nthese  persons  could  be  punished,  and  that  he  found \nthat  they  did  not  care  to  go  to  places  where  they \nwere  opposed  by  argument  only  ;  that  they  delighted \nto  be  persecuted,  and  that  they  were  the  most  dan- \ngerous where  they  were  the  most  hardly  used. \nRoger  Williams,  though  acknowledging  that  the \nQuakers  were  \"  insufferably  proud  and  contentious,\" \nwould  not  persecute  them.  Doubtless,  too,  a  feeling \nof  pity  for  the  sufferers  was  rising  among  the  people \nof  Boston,  which  increased  as  their  fate  became \nmore  and  more  severe.  We  find  that,  in  1659,  when \nthere  was  to  be  an  execution   of  two  Quakers  after \n\n\n112       WELCOME   AND  UNWELCOME   VISITORS. \n\nthe  Thursday  lecture,*  great  precaution  was  taken  to \n\"  see  things  carried  peaceably  and  orderly,\"  and  the \nprocession  from  the  jail  to  the  Common  was  by  a \nback  way,  \"  lest  the  people  should  be  affected  too \nmuch  \"  if  it  went  through  the  chief  thoroughfare. \nThis  feeling  of  humanity  seems  to  have  increased, \nas  the  atrocious  acts  of  the  magistrates  continued  to \nshock  the  townsmen,  and  it  led  to  more  merciful \ntreatment  of  Quakers.  The  end  came  for  a  Avhile  in \n1660,  and  the  prison  doors  were  opened  for  such  as \nhad  been  confined  ;  but  it  happened  that  at  the  same \ntime  a  letter  was  received  in  Boston  from  the  king, \nCharles  II.,  commanding  this  very  action.  It  has \nlong  been  supposed  that  the  king's  missive  opened \nthe  Quakers'  prison  doors ;  but  it  is  at  least  possible \nthat  public  opinion  in  Boston  had  anticipated  it. \nLet  us  hope,  for  the  credit  of  humanity,  that  it  had. \nThe  respite  was,  however,  temporary.  Quakers \nwere  suffering  by  the  hundred  in  England,  and  they \nwere  not  free  from  persecution  in  Boston  until  1677, \nwhen  Margaret  Brewster,  who  came  from  the  Bar- \nbadoes,  like  the  first  invaders,  having  entered  the \nOld  South  meeting-house  in  sackcloth,  with  her  face \nblackened,  her  feet  bare,  and  with  ashes  on  her  head, \nwas  whipped  for  the  offence.  A  few  days  later \nothers  were  treated  in  the  same  way  for  attending \nupon  their  own  meetings.  Public  opinion  could \nthen  be  no  longer  aggravated,  and  the  lash  was  not \n\n*  Wm.  Robinson  and  Marmaduke  Stephenson  were  hanged  October \n27th.  Mary  Dyer,  who  stood  with  a  halter  about  her  neck,  was \nreprieved,  but  she  suffered  the  next  year.  See  Ellis's  \"  Puritan \nRule,\"  pp.  463,  472. \n\n\nTHE   QUAKERS  HAVE   PEACE. \n\n\n\"3 \n\n\nagain  flourished  over  the  defenceless  Quakers.  With \nits  disuse  the  objectionable  acts  of  the  sect  dimin- \nished. The  number  of  those  who  can  be  called \n\"  turbulent \"  was  never  large,  and  it  is  difificult  for \nus,  who  know  the  quiet  Friends  as  the  modest  and \nlovable  citizens  that  they  are,  to  connect  any  sort \nof  disorder  with  the  sect  to  which  they  belong. \n\n\nX. \n\n\nTHE    CHARTER    IS   ATTACKED. \n\n\nDuring  most  of  the  time  that  we  have  thus  far \nreviewed,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winthrop  lived  together  in \ntheir  modest  but  commodious  dwelling  on  the  pres- \nent Washington  Street.  Mrs.  Winthrop  died  there \nin  1647.  Two  years  later  the  governor,  who  had \nmeanwhile  married  a  fourth  time,  followed  her,  and \nwas  buried  in  the  graveyard  of  King's  Chapel.  For \ntwelve  of  the  nineteen  years  of  his  life  in  Boston \nJohn  Winthrop  held  the  office  of  governor,  and \nduring  the  other  years  he  was  entrusted  with  ofificial \nduties  of  almost  equal  importance.  While  he  sat \namong  the  elders,  his  faithful  Margaret  followed  the \nexample  of  the  good  wife  described  in  Scripture, \nseeking  wool  and  flax  and  working  diligently  with \nher  hands.  They  were  wakened  from  sleep  in  the \nmorning  at  half-past  four  o'clock  by  the  sounding  of \nthe  public  bell,  and  the  curfew  bid  them  to  cover \ntheir  coals  and  retire  at  nine  in  the  evening.  In \n1649  Richard  Taylor  agreed  with  the  selectmen  to \nring  the  bell  for  four  pounds  a  year. \n\nThe  Winthrop  household  was  always  well  supplied \nwith  the  comforts  of  the  time,  though  the  dwelling \nwas  probably  itself  not  the  most  elegant  of  those \n\n114 \n\n\nCOM  FOR  T  AND   ELEGANCE.  I  I  5 \n\nthat  adorned  the  growing  town  in  the  governor's \nlater  years.  Information  gathered  from  early  inven- \ntories and  other  sources  shows  that  there  was  much \ncomfort  and  elegance  in  many  of  the  Boston  dwell- \nings. The  principal  hall  was  often  ornamented  with \npictures  and  lighted  from  a  great  lantern,  while  there \nmight  have  been  a  velvet  cushion  in  the  window- \nseat  that  gave  upon  the  well-kept  garden.  There \nwas  a  great  parlor  and  a  small  one, — the  latter \nbeing  sometimes  known  as  the  study, — which  were \nsupplied  with  large  mirrors,  tasteful  curtains,  por- \ntraits and  maps,  brass  clocks,  chairs,  which  we  now \nlike  to  copy,  with  high  backs  covered  with  red \nleather,  and  in  the  ample  fire-place  stood  the  bright \nbrass  andirons.  In  the  chambers  were  bedsteads \nwith  high  corner-posts,  often  richly  carved,  and  sup- \nplied with  feather-beds,  warming-pans,  and  all  the \nluxuries  of  the  day.  The  pantry  was  filled  with \ngood  fare,  with  dainties,  prunes,  and  marmalade, \nand  the  sideboard  was  ornamented  with  silver  tank- \nards and  wine  cups  and  other  articles  of  silver  and \nglass  ;  while  the  cellar  was  stored  with  good  ale,  and \nwith  materials  from  which  to  brew  the  smoking  punch \nthat  was  brought  before  guests  on  the  occasions  of \nfestivity,  when  there  had  been  an  ordination,  per- \nchance, or  a  meeting  of  the  clergy,  for  the  clergy  in \nthe  olden  time,  rigid  as  was  their  theology,  were  not \nat  all  averse  to  the  good  creatures  of  sense,  and  en- \njoyed their  punch  and  pasty  as  much  as  any  layman \nof  them  all.  There  were  servants  enough  in  the \nBoston  families,  though  in  1634  it  was  permitted \nthe  governor  by  vote  of  the  court  to  \"  entertain\"  an \n\n\nii6 \n\n\nTHE    CHARTER  IS  ATTACKED. \n\n\nIndian  as  additional  help  in  this  capacity.  Mrs. \nWinthrop  was,  however,  not  above  going  to  the \nspring  conveniently  near  (on  the  present  Spring \nLane)  to  draw  water,  and  we  know  that  the  governor \ngave  his  people  a  good  example  by  \"  putting  his \nhand  to  any  ordinary  labor  with  his  servants.\" \n\nTwice  every  Sunday  for  ten  years  the  family  fol- \nlowed the  custom  of  the  colony  by  walking  around \nto  the  meeting-house,  which  stood  on  the  present \nState  Street  near  the  corner  of  Devonshire  ;  but  in \n1640  the  humble  building  there  was  replaced  by  a \nnew  structure,  which  stood  on  Washington  Street \nnear  by,  and  was  the  only  meeting-house  during  the \nrest  of  the  lifetime  of  the  first  governor.  This  edi- \nfice was  not  only  used  for  religious  services,  but  also \nfor  meetings  of  the  magistrates,  and,  naturally \nenough,  for  there  was  a  close  connection  between \nthe  two  in  a  theocratic  government,  which  based  its \nproceedings  largely  upon  precedents  found  in  the \nBible. \n\nTwice  each  Sunday  the  drum-call  summoned \nthe  townspeople  to  the  meeting-house,  where  the \nmen  took  their  places  on  one  side,  and  the  women \non  the  other,  the  boys  being  relegated  to  the  super- \nvision of  a  special  ofificer  charged  with  the  by  no \nmeans  unimportant  duty  of  keeping  them,  in  order \nthrough  the  long  sermon.  Below  the  high  pulpit, \nand  just  in  front  of  it,  sat  the  elders,  and  still  nearer \nthe  body  of  the  people  were  the  deacons,  both  groups \nlooking  over  the  demure  assembly.  The  men  of  the \ncongregation  were  armed,  as  if  in  fear  of  interruption \nby  the  Indians.     When  all  was  ready  the   services \n\n\nMR.    HOOKER   PkEACHES  LONG.  WJ \n\nbegan.  They  included  singing,  perhaps  at  first  from \nthe  Psalter  of  Sternhold  and  Hopkins,*  renowned \nfor  its  adherence  to  the  original  Hebrew,  of  which \nMontgomery  said  that  it  was  \"  the  resemblance  of \nthe  dead  to  the  living.\"  There  was  no  instrumental \nhelp  to  harmony,  and  the  tunes  seldom  counted \nmore  than  five  or  ten  for  eighty  or  ninety  years. \nThere  was  extemporaneous  prayer,  sometimes  of \ngreat  length,  and  a  sermon,  which  it  was  thought \nought  not  to  be  less  than  an  hour,  measured  by  the \nsand-glass  visible  to  the  hearers  on  the  sacred  desk, \nthough  it  was  often  much  longer.  Mr.  Winthrop \nmentions,  that  on  one  of  the  few  occasions  when  he \nwas  absent  from  his  accustomed  congregation  on  the \nLord's  Day,  he  went  with  many  others  to  Cambridge \nto  hear  Mr.  Hooker,  who,  after  having  preached  for \na  quarter  of  an  hour,  found  himself  deprived  both \n\"  of  his  strength  and  matter  \"  ;  but  he  \"  went  forth, \nand  about  half  an  hour  afterwards  returned  again, \n\n*  The  new  version  of  the  Psahns,  which  was  revised  by  President \nDunster  ten  years  later,  appeared  the  year  that  the  second  meeting- \nhouse was  built,  and  then  the  good  Bostonians,  who  abhorred  the \nhelp  of  \"  cornet,  flute,  dulcimer,  sackbut,  psaltery,  and  all  kinds  of \n[instrumental]  music,\"  joined  their  tuneful  voices  in  singing  to  some \none  of  the  half-a-dozen  melodies  then  in  vogue  such  words  as  these  : \n\n\"  I  in  my  streights,  cal'd  on  the  Lord, \nand  to  my  God  cry'd  :  he  did  heare \nfrom  his  temple  my  voyce,  my  crye \nbefore  him  came,  unto  his  eare. \nAnd  he  on  cherub  rode,  and  flew  : \nyea  he  flew  on  the  wings  of  winde. \nHis  secret  place  he  darknes  made \nhis  covert  that  him  round  confinde, \nDark  waters,  and  thick  clouds  of  skies.\" \n\n\nIl8  THE    CHARTER  IS  ATTACKED. \n\nand  went  on  to  very  good  purpose  about  two  hours.\" \nThis  was  in  1639.     These  were  heroic  days. \n\nIn  the  church  that  the  Bostonians  had  left,  the \nBible  was  read  in  the  hearing  of  the  congregation \nwithout  note  or  comment  ;  here  it  was  called  \"  dumb \nreading\"  to  read  it  so,  and  the  text  was  accompanied \nwith  explanations  and  applications,  according  to  the \nlearning  or  the  peculiar  spirit  of  the  clergyman. \nOccasionally  a  minister  from  another  congregation \nwas  present,  and  at  such  times,  after  the  Psalm  had \nbeen  sung,  the  elder  would  rise  and  say  :  \"  If  this \npresent  brother  hath  any  word  of  exhortation  for  the \npeople  at  this  time,  in  the  name  of  God  let  him  say \non.\"  It  was  called  prophesying  if  the  stranger  then \npreached.  The  regular  feasts  of  the  Church  were \nutterly  ignored ;  but  in  their  place  there  was  the \nThursday-forenoon  lecture,  besides  other  week-day \nmeetings,  and  fasts  and  thanksgiving-days  were \nappointed  by  the  authorities  from  time  to  time. \n\nThe  families  of  Boston  were  possessors  of  a  good \nmany  books,  all  of  which  had  been  brought  from  the \nother  side  of  the  ocean,  of  course,  until  Stephen  Daye \ncame  over  in  1638,  and  set  up  widow  Glover's  print- \ning-press in  Cambridge.  The  following  year  it  be- \ngan its  work  with  an  almanac  and  an  oath  intended \nfor  the  freemen  to  set  their  names  to  ;  these  being \nfollowed  by  the  Bay  Psalm  Book,  which  President \nDunster  \"  refined  \"  in  1650.  He  had,  in  1641,  mar- \nried the  widow  Glover,  and  the  press  had  in  that  way \nindirectly  passed  under  the  control  of  the  college.* \n\n*  Mrs.  Dunster  died  two  years  after  her  second  marriage.  She \nleft  several  children  by  her  first  husband,  two  of  whom  married  sons \nof  Governor  Winthrop. \n\n\nEMISSARIES   OF    SA  TAN  ABROAD.  1 19 \n\nIt  was  not  till  1674  that  John  Foster  had  permission \nfrom  the  court  to  set  up  a  press  \"  elsewhere  than  in \nCambridge,\"  and  thus  he  became  the  first  Boston \nprinter,  his  office  being  established  the  last  month  of \nthat  year,  at  \"  the  Sign  of  a  Dove,\"  where  he  printed, \nas  his  first  book,  a  sermon  by  Increase  Mather,  en- \ntitled \"  The  Wicked  Man's  Portion.\"  These  presses \ndid  not,  however,  greatly  increase  the  number  of \nbooks ;  but  many  pamphlets  and  sermons  appeared \nfrom  time  to  time,  and  in  1678  the  first  American \nedition  of  the  poems  of  Anne  Bradstreet  was  issued \nfrom  this  the  first  Boston  press. \n\nBoston  and  the  Bay  colony  had  for  ten  years  no \nlaws  except  the  common  law  of  England,  and  the \ncourt  was  well  occupied  in  framing  ordinances  aimed \nat  evil-doers  as  their  acts  required  repression  ;  and \nin  this  connection  the  promptness  with  which  \"  that \nould  deluder,  Satan,\"  managed  to  get  his  emissaries \namong  the  select  band  that  sought  to  flee  from  his \ninfluence  strikes  one  as  not  a  little  strange.  The \nBostonians  had  scarcely  settled  upon  the  promon- \ntory of  Shawmut,  when  it  was  found  necessary  to \nenact  laws  against  some  of  the  most  bestial  offences, \nand  the  necessity  for  a  statute  law  was  soon  appar- \nent. In  1636  John  Cotton  was  asked  to  give  sug- \ngestions on  this  matter,  and  in  October  he  presented \na  draft  of  \"  Moses,  his  Judicials,\"  amply  fortified  by \n\"  proof-texts  \"  in  the  margin,*  the  whole  being  sup- \nported  by  the  words,  quoted  from   Isaiah  :     \"  The \n\n*  Thus  : — \"  The  governor  hath  power  .  .  .  to  send  out  warrants \nfor  the  calling  of  the  general  court.\"  (And  Joshua  gathered  all  the \ntribes  of  Israel  to  Shechem.     Josh.,  xxiv.,  i.) \n\n\n120  THE    CHARTER   IS  ATTACKED. \n\nLord  is  our  Judge,  the  Lord  is  our  Lawgiver,  the \nLord  is  our  King  ;  he  will  save  us.\"  This  effort  was \nin  accordance  with  the  plan  of  a  biblical  common- \nwealth which  the  founders  of  the  colony  desired  to \nestablish,  but  it  was  not  accepted. \n\nThe  following  year  it  was  ordered  by  the  court \nthat  the  freemen  of  the  several  towns  should  gather \nand  prepare  such  laws  as  they  thought  necessary \nunder  the  circumstances  of  the  colony,  which  were  to \nbe  digested  by  the  council  and  three  elders,  and  the \nresult  presented  to  the  court ;  but  it  proved  that  the \npeople  were  inexperienced  in  such  work,  and  prob- \nably thought  that  the  method  which  had  been  pur- \nsued— of  making  laws  as  they  were  called  for — would \nsuffice.  There  was,  however,  in  New  England  at  the \ntime  a  scholar  of  ripeness  and  eccentricity  able  to  do \nthe  work.  He  was  a  graduate  of  Emanuel  College; \nhad  practised  law  some  years  in  England ;  was  an \nacquaintance  of  Francis  Bacon  and  of  Archbishop \nUsher  ;  had  been  in  somewhat  familiar  intercourse \nwith  other  men  and  some  women  in  high  life  ;  had \nserved  as  parish  priest  for  ten  years  in  England,  un- \ntil ejected  by  Laud  ;  and  was  then  for  a  while  pas- \ntor of  a  parish  in  the  raw  settlement  at  Agawam — \nnow  prosaic  Ipswich.  At  the  moment  when  Cotton \nwas  compiling  his  Judicials,  this  scholar — Nathaniel \nWard — was  meditating  on  the  badness  of  the  times \nupon  which  he  had  fallen,  and  grumbling  at  the  pro- \nfaneness  of  many  about  him  and  the  \"  foul  shame  of \nreligious  toleration,\"  which  he  berated  not  long  after \nin  one  of  the  raciest  books  of  the  day,  \"  The  Simple \nCobbler  of  Agawam.\" \n\n\nLOCAL    LAW   SUPREME.  121 \n\nNathaniel  Ward  decided  to  prepare  the  needed \nstatutes,  and  accordingly  presented  to  the  court  a \n\"Body  of  Liberties,\"  consisting  of  one  hundred  laws. \nAfter  a  discussion  lasting  three  weeks  these  were \nadopted,  as  a  response  to  a  popular  clamor  that \narose  for  something  settled  which  would  bring  the \n\"interminable  consultation  of  the  towns\"  to  an  end. \nThe  biblical  character  of  the  legislation  is  evident \nfrom  a  provision  that  in  case  of  any  defect  of  the \nbody  of  liberties,  the  Law  of  God  should  be  the  ulti- \nmate rule  of* administration.  The  law  of  Ward  was \nmore  merciful  than  that  of  the  mother-country,  and \nmentioned  but  ten  capital  offences,  though  there \nwere  thirty  such  in  England  at  the  close  of  the  reign \nof  Elizabeth,  and  more  than  twice  that  number  at  a \nlater  period.  Ward  supported  each  of  his  capital \npenalties  with  a  scriptural  text,  though  in  the  rest  of \nthe  code  he  did  not  imitate  the  compilation  of  Cot- \nton in  that  respect.  These  laws  were  to  be  consid- \nered annually  by  the  court  for  three  years,  and  such \nof  them  as  were  not  altered  or  repealed  were  to  stand. \n\nThe  establishment  of  the  fundamental  laws  Just \nmentioned  was  a  most  important  step  on  the  part  of \nthe  colonists.  It  has  been  called  almost  a  declara- \ntion of  independence,  for  the  code  began  with  an  as- \nsertion that  neither  life,  liberty,  honor,  nor  estate  was \nto  be  invaded,  except  by  virtue  of  an  express  law  es- \ntablished by  local  authority  ;  and  it  certainly  verged \nclosely  upon  opposition  to  the  rule  of  the  sovereign. \nIt  declared  to  the  world  that  while  the  charter  al- \nlowed no  laws  to  be  enacted  under  it  \"  repugnant  to \nthe  laws  of  England,\"  the  colonists  felt  themselves \n\n\n122  THE    CHARTER   IS  ATTACKED. \n\nempowered  to  build  up  such  a  system  as  the  circum- \nstances of  the  people  demanded. \n\nThose  persons  who  had  been  sent  out  of  the \ncolony  as  unfit  to  live  there  had,  as  we  know, \ncarried  prejudicial  reports  home  regarding  the  spirit \nof  independence  that  was  growing  up,  even  before \nWinthrop's  arrival,  and  these  were  repeated  fre- \nquently from  time  to  time.  The  first  efforts  to  lead \nthe  government  to  interfere  proved  signal  failures ; \nbut  they  were  only  the  beginning  of  a  long  struggle \nwhich  lasted  more  than  fifty  years,  and  finally  suc- \nceeded. In  1634,  there  was  a  direct  demand  by  the \nEnglish  government  that  the  charter  should  be  de- \nlivered up,  but  the  governor  and  council  declined  to \nsurrender  it.  There  seems  to  have  been  a  feeling  in \nBoston,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  that  the  possession  of \nthe  actual  parchment,  signed  and  sealed  by  the  sov- \nereign or  his  agent,  was  necessary  to  the  preservation \nof  liberty,  and  we  find  that  after  a  while  it  was  ord- \nered that  two  or  three  persons  should  be  appointed \nby  each  house  to  \"  keep  safe  and  secret  the  said \npatent.\" \n\nThe  colonists  were  fully  determined  not  to  give  up \ntheir  charter  without  a  struggle,  but  they  also  decided \nthat  the  best  policy  for  them  was  to  make  long  con- \nsultations and  discussions,  and  thus  to  avoid  a  direct \nreply  whenever  possible,  while  using  diplomatic  words \nthat  were  intended  to  be  received  as  professions  of \nloyalty  to  the  powers  that  happened  to  be  upper- \nmost in  England  at  a  given  time. \n\nThere  was  great  alarm  in  Boston  on  the  occasion \nof    this    very    demand    for   the    charter,    for   it   was \n\n\nBOSTON  PREPARES  EOR    IVAR.  123 \n\nrumored  that  the  rights  of  the  colonists  were  to \nbe  invaded  by  a  governor  and  commission  from \nEngland  authorized  to  make  laws,  call  in  patents, \nand  levy  taxes,  A  meeting  was  held  at  which  all \nthe  ministers  (except  Mr.  Ward)  were  present,  and  it \nwas  voted  that  such  a  governor  if  sent  over  ought \nnot  to  be  accepted,  but  that  the  colonists  should \ndefend  their  lawful  possessions.  The  court  appro- \npriated six  hundred  pounds  towards  fortifications \nand  other  charges  at  Castle  Island,  at  Charlestown, \nand  Dorchester,  and  captains  were  directed  to  train \nskilful  men,  while  a  committee,  comprising  Win- \nthrop,  Dudley,  and  others  was  appointed  to  \"  con- \nsult, direct,  and  give  command  for  the  managing \nand  ordering  of  any  war  that  might  befal.\"  Forts \nwere  begun  ;  a  beacon  was  set  on  the  Sentry  hill, \n\"  to  give  notice  to  the  country  of  any  danger  \"  ; \nmusket-balls  were  made  a  legal  tender ;  and  every \nman  older  than  sixteen  years  was  obliged  to  take \nthe  freeman's  oath ;  while  a  military  commission \nwas  formed  with  power  to  imprison  or  even  to \nput  to  death,  \"  any  that  they  should  judge  to  be \nenemies  to  the  commonwealth,\"  or  who  !' would  not \ncome  under  their  command  or  restraint.\"  This  was \nthe  reply,  and  the  only  reply  that  the  court  made  to \nthe  demand  for  its  charter,  in  1635,  and  it  looked \nmuch  like  a  threat. \n\nThe  English  government  was  not  idle,  and  after \nmany  other  movements  on  both  sides,  another,  and \na  very  strict  order,  was  sent  to  Governor  Winthrop \nfor  delivering  up  the  charter  ;  upon  which  the  court \ndirected  that  a  letter  should  be  written  to  \"  excuse \n\n\n124  THE    CHARTER   IS  ATTACKED. \n\nour  not  sending  it.\"  Accordingly  Winthrop  wrote  a \nvery  dignified  letter,  in  which  he  said  that  the  colo- \nnists would  like  to  know  what  charges  had  been  made \nagainst  them,  and  urged  reasons  why  the  demand \nshould  not' be  insisted  upon.  He  expressed  a  desire \nnot  to  question  the  proceedings  up  to  that  point,  but \nto  \"  open  the  griefs  of  the  colonists,\"  so  that  the  king \nmight  judge  how  to  remedy  them.  The  reply  to \nthis  letter  was  a  peremptory  repetition  of  the  de- \nmand ;  but  the  order  was  sent  to  Mr.  Cradock, \nthrough  his  agent,  and  the  court  did  not  respond, \nsince  the  demand  had  been  received  \"  in  a  private \nletter\"  and  not  in  of^cial  form.  The  mother-coun- \ntry was  by  this  time  in  so  much  confusion  that  no \nmore  notice  could  be  taken  of  the  remote  colonies, \nand  for  thirty  years  matters  went  on  in  Boston  and \nthe  Bay  colony  as  though  the  people  there  were  inde- \npendent. \n\nThe  year  1640  is  to  be  remembered  for  an  attempt \nthat  was  made  by  Lord  Say  and  Sele  to  dissuade \nemigrants  from  America,  and  to  turn  them  to  the \nWest  Indies ;  in  fact  to  break  up  the  colony  of  the \nMassachusetts  Bay  for  that  purpose.  Governor  Win- \nthrop wrote  a  letter  on  this  subject  which  must  have \nbeen  very  forceful,  for  it  drew  from  Lord  Say  and \nSele  a  reply  of  the  most  spirited  description.  Win- \nthrop showed,  to  his  own  satisfaction  at  least,  that  it \nwas  evident  that  God  had  chosen  America  to  plant \nhis  people  in,  and  that  it  would  be  dangerous  and \ndispleasing  to  try  to  change  such  a  plan,  and  that \nhis  lordship  ought  not  to  \"  abase  the  goodness  of \nthe  country.\"     It  is  interesting  to  note  in  passing \n\n\nINVITED    TO  IRELAND.  1 25 \n\nthat  when  Cromwell  had  conquered  Ireland,  in  1649, \nand  wished  to  keep  that  country  in  subjection,  he \nbethought  himself  of  the  few  thousand  Englishmen \nin  New  England,  and  invited  them  to  come  over  and \noccupy  the  land.  Some  persons  expressed  a  wish  to \nlearn  more  of  the  project ;  but  there  was  no  general \ndesire  to  change  their  abode.  Similar  offers  were \nmade  by  Cromwell  in  1655  to  the  New  Englanders, \nif  they  would  go  to  Jamaica  which  his  fleet  had  re- \nduced. The  Massachusetts  court  read  Cromwell's \nletter,  after  a  delay  of  eight  months,  and  composed \na  reply  in  which  reference  was  made  to  the  great \nmortality  of  the  English  in  Jamaica,  and  the  inten- \ntion of  the  Americans  to  remain  where  they  were, \nthough  the)-  assured  \"  his  Highness \"  that  they \nwould  never  cease  to  pray  for  him.  They  had \nwritten  to  him  in  165 1  that  during  the  ten  years \nof  his  trouble  with  the  late  king  they  had  constantly \nadhered  to  him,  not  even  wavering  in  the  times  of \nhis  weakest  condition,  but  by  their  \"  fasting  and \nprayers  for  your  good  success,\"  and  our  thanksgiv- \ning after  the  same  was  attained,  in  days  of  solemnity \nset  apart  for  the  purpose,  as  also  \"by  our  sending \nover  useful  men,\"  they  had  done  him  acceptable  ser- \nvice and  suffered  hatred  from  other  English  colonies, \nand  damage  from  the  king's  party,  from  the  king  of \nScots,  and  the  king  of  Portugal.  Neither  of  these \nschemes  was  further  urged  by  Cromwell,  who,  by  the \nway,  was  otherwise  engaged  pretty  soon. \n\nBoston  was  meantime  prosperous.  The  wigwams, \nhuts,  and  hovels  of  the  first  days  were  changed  into \n\"  orderly,  fair,  and  well-built  houses,  well  furnished  \"  ; \n\n\n126  THE    CHARTER   IS  ATTACKED. \n\nit  was  a  \"  city-like  town,\"  wharfed  out  with  great \nindustry  and  cost,  the  buildings  beautiful  and  large, \nsome  fairly  set  forth  with  brick,  tile,  stone,  and  slate, \nand  orderly  placed  with  comely  streets,  \"  whose  con- \ntinual enlargement  presages  some  sumptuous  city.\" \nThere  were  \"  streets  filled  with  girls  and  boys  sport- \ning up  and  down  \"  with,  a  great  concourse  of  people, \nwhere  once  were  \"wolves  and  bears  nursing  their \nyoung \"  far  from  the  eyes  of  all.  Dr.  Ellis  has \ndrawn  a  picture  of  some  of  the  wants  and  needs  of \nthe  inhabitants  of  Boston  at  this  time  in  his  work  on \nthe  \"  Puritan  Age.\"      He  says: \n\n\"  A  grim  wilderness  environed  them,  with  real  and \nvisionary  dangers  in  its  dark  shadows.  Marshes,  moras- \nses, unbridged  streams  and  devious  trails  made  inter- \ncourse difficult  and  all  travel  tedious.  The  numerous \ninventories-  left  to  us  of  household  goods,  of  farm  imple- \nments, and  of  apparel,  are  often  amusing  ihustrations  of \nsimple  thrift,  and  of  the  frugality,  paucity,  and  rudeness \nof  their  furnishings,  which  still  were  of  such  relative \nvalue  as  to  be  carefully  appraised.  The  tortures  of  the \nmedical  and  surgical  practice  of  those  days  were  fearful \nfor  endurance.  Our  light  foot-gear  and  water-proof  pro- \ntection for  snow-storms  and  tempests  found  substitutes \nfor  them  in  boots  of  hide  smeared  with  grease,  and \ndoublets  of  leather  which  drank  in  the  water  so  that \nthey  had  to  be  cast  aside  as  the  weight  increased.  The \nspoils  of  the  hunter  and  safety  from  the  Indian  foe  were \nwon  by  the  long  gun  supported  by  a  '  rest,'  and  fired  by  a \nmatchlock.  What  would  the  housewife  and  the  forest- \ntraveller  of  those  days  have  been  ready  to  give  for  a \nbunch  of  friction-matches,  the  cost   of  which  for  us  is \n\n\nTHE   FATHER    OF  BOSTON  DIES.  1 27 \n\none  cent !  The  lack  of  any  currency,  save  Indian  shell- \npeage,  caused  all  traffic  to  be  by  barter  of  produce  or \nlabor  at  shifting  values.  The  entire  lack  of  all  the  de- \nlights of  intellectual  intercourse  and  of  literature,  save \nthose  of  the  most  lugubrious  character,  must  have  had  a \nmost  depressing  influence  upon  the  spirits  of  those \nwho  were  so  intently  brooding  over  dismal  theological \nproblems.\"  * \n\nThere  was  nothing,  or  little,  to  make  the  citizens \nthink  of  the  tumultuous  doings  that  history  records \nas  going  on  in  the  mother-country;  but  they  came \nto  the  knowledge  of  them  in  time. \n\nJohn  Winthrop  died,  in  1649,  and  was  buried  in \nthe  yard  of  King's  Chapel,  where  his  sepulchre  may \nbe  seen  to  this  day.  He  had  been  governor  of  \"  the \nconsiderablest  part  of  New  England,\"  as  Mather  said, \nand  \"  he  maintained  the  figure  and  honor  of  his \nplace  with  the  spirit  of  a  true  gentleman.\"  He  let \nhis  moderation  be  known  to  all  men ;  he  \"  abridged \nhimself  of  a  thousand  comfortable  things\"  that  he \nhad  been  accustomed  to,  for  the  sake  of  those  who \nwere  about  him.  He  was  a  true  father,  not  only  to \nMassachusetts,  and  to  the  New  England  Confedera- \ntion, of  which  he  was  chief,  but  also  to  Boston,  and \nby  his  cheerful  courage  sustained  the  spirits  of  his \ncompanions  when  they  were  ready  to  droop.  He \nwas  mild,  magnanimous,  and  firm  ;  he  was  benevo- \nlent and  sympathetic  ;  mildly  aristocratic,  but  con- \nsistent and  well-balanced  ;  the  noble  founder  of  a \nstate  and  a  civilization.  He  had  nourished  the \nchurch,  the  school,  the  college ;    he    had    laid    the \n\n*  \"  The  Puritan  Age  and  Rule,\"  page  38. \n\n\n128      -  THE   CHARTER  IS  ATTACKED. \n\nfoundation  of  a  system  of  laws  that  was  to  endure  ; \nhe  was  mourned  by  the  Dutch  Stuyvesant,  at  the \nNew  Netherlands,  and  by  the  governor  of  New  Haven, \nwho  wondered  who  could  be  chosen  to  take  his \nplace  in  the  arbitration  of  differences  that  might \narise  in  the  future,  as  they  had  in  the  past. \n\nThe  place  left  vacant  in  Boston  was  occupied  at \nfirst  by  Thomas  Dudley,  who  did  not  long  survive, \nand  then  by  John  Endicott,  who  lived  through  the \ntime  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  died  during  the \nstruggle  with  Charles  the  Second  for  the  charter. \n\n\n3 — '\"Z^^^ \n\n\nXI. \n\n\nTHE    TIMES    OF   THE    MATHERS. \n\n\nWhen  Winthrop  had  been  in  Boston  five  years \nthere  arrived  an  emigrant  who  was  the  first  of  a \nfamily  destined  to  furnish  poHtical  and  ecclesiastical \nleaders  to  the  town  for  the  whole  of  the  colonial \nperiod.  Richard  Mather,  for  fifteen  years  minister \nof  the  church  at  Toxteth,  finding  himself  in  danger \non  account  of  his  dissent,  fled  to  America  in  1635, \nand  as  his  reputation  was  already  known,  he  was  im- \nmediately accepted  as  a  \"  mighty  man,\"  and  several \nparishes  strove  for  his  services.  Mr.  Mather  relates \nthat  on  his  long  and  dangerous  voyage  he  saw \n\"  mighty  whales  spewing  up  water  in  the  air  like  the \nsmoke  of  a  chimney,  and  making  the  sea  about  them \nwhite  and  hoajry,\"  and  they  were  \"  of  such  incredible \nbigness  \"  that  he  exclaimed,  \"  I  will  never  wonder \nthat  the  body  of  Jonah  could  be  in  the  belly  of  a \nwhale.\" \n\nWhen  put  to  the  proof  in  Boston  this  mighty  man \nwas  found  to  be  as  learned  in  the  classics  and  in  the \nScriptures  as  his  fame  promised;  his  voice  was \n\"loud  and  big,\"  and  he  uttered  his  words  with  a \n\"  deliberate  vehemency  \"  which,  in  the  language  of \nthe  day,  \"  procured    unto   his  ministry  an  awful  and \n\n129 \n\n\n130  THE   TIMES  OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\nvery  taking  majesty.\"  He  went  to  Dorchester  and \nremained  there  until  his  death  in  1689.  He  wrote \nmany  of  the  ponderous  tomes  of  the  period,  com- \nposed the  preface  to  the  Bay  Psalm  Book,  as  well  as \nsome  of  its  marvellous  verses ;  showed  himself  a \nvoracious  reader  and  an  indefatigable  student ;  and \nestablished  his  fame  on  a  lasting  foundation  both  as \na  leader  in  church  and  state. \n\nThere  were  preachers  of  note  in  Boston  besides \nMr.  Mather,  and  among  them  Mr.  John  Cotton  and \nMr.  John  Norton  are  to  be  especially  remembered \nfor  the  influence  they  exerted  upon  the  town  in  its \nimpressionable  stage.  Mr.  Cotton  was  for  twenty \nyears  minister  to  the  congregation  that  gathered  in \nthe  great  church  of  St.  Botolph,  at  old  Boston ;  but \nin  the  year  1633,  when  Laud  became  archbishop,  he \nfound  it  necessary,  like  so  many  others,  to  seek  the \nAmerican  shores.  He  came  to  Boston  with  Thomas \nHooker  and  Samuel  Stone,  also  distinguished  lights \nin  the  New  England  pulpit,  and  was  preacher  to  the \nFirst  Church  until  his  death  in  1652.  He  has  left \nbehind  him  nothing  that  gives  to  the  present  gen- \neration any  strong  impression  of  the  '^  insinuating \nand  melting \"  style  in  which  he  is  said  to  have \npreached — a  style  that  is  reputed  to  \"  have  carried \naway  every  adversary  captive  after  the  triumphant \nchariot  of  his  rhetoric,\"  and  it  seems  to  us  often, \nas  we  shake  the  dust  from  the  volumes  in  which \nthe  ponderous  pulpit  oratory  of  those  days  is  em- \nbalmed, that  Boston  audiences  must  have  been  very \neasily  \"  captivated  \"  by  dry  disquisitions  ;  though  it \nmust  be  allowed  that   in  the  printed  page  we  lose \n\n\nPONDEROUS  PULPIT   ORATORY.  I3I \n\nall  the  earnest  fervor  which  a  preacher,  loved  by \nhis  flock  for  his  social  virtues,  threw  into  his  formal \nutterances,  and  we  are  apt  to  forget,  too,  that  an \nemigrant  people  who  esteemed  themselves  perse- \ncuted for  righteousness'  sake,  felt  that  there  was  a \nreality  and  an  appropriateness  in  doctrinal  discourses \nthat  cannot  be  appreciated  by  their  descendants  who \nhave  for  generations  enjoyed  the  peace  that  resulted \nfrom  their  tribulations.  Mr.  Cotton's  death  was \nbrought  on  by  a  cold  caught  in  consequence  of \nexposure  in  crossing  the  ferry  on  a  visit  to  Cam- \nbridge, whither  he  went  to  preach  to  the  students  of \nHarvard  College.* \n\nJohn  Norton  appeared  in  Boston  three  years  later \nthan  Mr.  Cotton,  and  immediately  attracted  atten- \ntion by  his  scholarship,  eloquence,  and  wisdom.  He \nreluctantly  accepted  a  call  to  Ipswich,  where  he \nwas  assistant  to  the  Agawam  Cobbler  until  he  was \nchosen  successor  to  Mr.  Cotton.  He  then  removed \nto  Boston,  and  took  up  his  new  duties  in  1653, \nthough  it  was  three  years  before  he  was  installed. \nWe  read  that  the  court  formally  expressed  its  con- \ngratulations upon  his  accession  to  this  influential \npost  of  duty,  which  was  not  a  strange  thing  for \nthe  court  to  do  in  the  days  when  church  and  state \nwere  intimately  connected.  Both  of  these  ministers \nexerted  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  town  both \npolitically  and  in  their  religious  capacity,  and  were \n\n*  The  ferry  over  the  Charles  River  from  Brighton  was  at  the  foot  of \nDunster  Street.  In  1662  a  bridge  was  built  at  the  foot  of  the  present \nBoylston  Street,  on  account  of  the  increase  of  travel,  especially  on \nlecture  days. \n\n\n132  THE   TIMES   OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\ncomplimented  by  their  people  with  constant  expres- \nsions of  fondness,  but  they  left  behind  them  no  pos- \nterity equal  to  them  in  this  respect,  to  continue  their \nprestige.  This  the  Mathers  did,  founding  a  dynasty \nwhich  continued  in  uncrowned  power  for  almost  a \ncentury. \n\nThe  second  person  to  honor  the  name  Mather  was \nborn  in  the  year  1639,  and  in  consequence  of  the  fact \nthat  there  was  \"  increase  of  every  sort  \"  at  the  time, \nhe  received  the  name  Increase,  which  in  his  formal \nwritings  he  sometimes  translated  into  Latin — \"  Cres- \ncentius.\"  At  the  time  of  Winthrop's  death  he  was \nalmost  ready  for  Harvard  College,  and  he  actually \nentered  at  the  age  of  twelve  ;  though  he  did  not  take \nhis  first  degree  until  he  was  seventeen.  Two  years \nlater  he  preached  in  his  father's  pulpit  and  then \nsailed  for  Ireland,  where  he  became  a  student  at \nTrinity  College,  Dublin.  After  the  Restoration  he \nfound  it  best  to  return  to  his  native  land,  and  in \n1644  he  became  minister  of  the  North  Church,  Bos- \nton, which  stood  on  North  Square,  then  the  very \ncentre  of  the  most  aristocratic  and  influential  homes. \nHis  own  dwelling  was  on  North  Street,  near  Clark. \n\nFor  almost  sixty  years  Increase  Mather  continued \nto  hold  the  congregation  by  the  force  of  his  person- \nality, the  strength  of  his  logic,  the  adroitness  of  his \npolicy,  and  the  sagacity  of  his  devices.  No  man  was \nso  powerful  in  Boston  as  he  for  the  first  half  of  that \nperiod,  and  few  or  none  dared  to  stand  up  against \nhis  known  views.  Probably  his  scholarship  and  his \naccomplishments  have  not  suffered  by  the  mediums \nthrough  which  their  fame  has  been  carried  down  to \n\n\n0       ^  ~   „,     <1>^6VA'-*V<' \n\n\n134  THE   TIMES   OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\nposterity ;  but  making  all  allowances  for  the  favora- \nble prejudices  of  his  biographers,  we  may  conclude \nthat  he  enjoyed  an  ability  to  labor  which  is  almost \nincomprehensible,  that  his  knowledge  had  a  wonder- \nful sweep,  and  that  his  diligence  as  a  writer  and \nspeaker,  as  well  as  a  counsellor  to  his  fellow-towns- \npeople, was  so  great  that  one  marvels  that  his \nphysical  system  did  not  break  under  it  long  before \nhe  had  reached  fourscore  years  of  age. \n\nIncrease  Mather  married  a  daughter  of  John  Cot- \nton, and  thus  united  two  noted  families  ;  the  eldest \nchild  of  the  couple,  who  has  been  called  the  \"  literary \nbehemoth  of  New  England,\"  in  the  colonial  era,  was \nnamed,  for  his  grandfather.  Cotton,  The  historian \nof  our  literature  calls  him  \"  a  precocious  and  de- \ncidedly priggish  young  gentleman,\"  with  a  well- \ndeveloped  sense  of  his  own  importance.*  He  entered \nHarvard  at  the  age  of  eleven,  and  when  he  gradu- \nated, the  president,  Urian  Oakes,  in  handing  him  his \ndiploma,  exclaimed,  in  Latin,  \"  What  a  name  !  But, \nmy  hearers,  I  confess  I  am  wrong ;  I  should  have \nsaid,  what  names !  I  shall  say  nothing  of  his  rever- \nend father,  since  I  dare  not  praise  him  to  his  face  ; \nbut,  should  he  resemble  and  represent  his  venerable \ngrandfathers,  John  Cotton  and  Richard  Mather,  in \npiety,  learning,  and  elegance  of  mind,  solid  judg- \nment, prudence,  and  wisdom,  he  will  bear  away  the \npalm  ;  and   I   trust   that   in  this  youth  Cotton  and \n\n*  \"  A  History  of  American  Literature,\"  by  Moses  Coit  Tyler.  In \nthis  work  one  may  read  an  entertaining  sketch  of  the  \"  Mather \nDynasty,\"  in  which  the  merits  and  defects  of  each  member  of  the \nfamily  are  brought  out  in  an  agreeable  manner. \n\n\nCOTTON  MATHER'S  AMBITION,  I  35 \n\nMather  will  be  united  and  flourish  again.\"  Certainly \nthis  was  high  praise,  and  well  calculated  to  make \nthe  young  student  all  the  self-conscious  and  self- \nimportant  personage  that  he  became.  Increase \nMather  returned  his  share  of  the  fulsome  compli- \nment in  1682,  when  he  wrote  that  Oakes  \"was  one \nof  the  greatest  lights  that  ever  shone  in  this  part \nof  the  world,  or  that  is  ever  like  to  arise  in  this \nhorizon.\" \n\nCotton  Mather  was  a  strange  mixture  of  strength \nand  weakness,  of  wisdom  and  poor  judgment ;  his \nconceit  must  have  been  unbearable,  and  in  his  works \nit  is  simply  ludicrous.  Two  notable  examples  of \nhis  self-appreciation  are  connected  with  Harvard \nCollege,  for  the  presidency  of  which  he  supposed \nhimself  eminently  adapted,  though  the  corporation \ndid  not  agree  with  him.  When  President  Willard \ndied  in  1707,  Mather  thought  that  he  ought  to  be \nchosen  in  the  vacant  place,  and  actually  gave  him- \nself to  fasting  and  other  exercises,  in  expectation  of \nthe  appointment  ;  but  it  did  not  come.  In  1724,  on \nthe  death  of  President  Leverett,  he  was  certain  that \nhe  could  be  \"  of  singular  service  \"  to  the  college,  but \nDr.  Sewall  was  chosen  ;  whereupon  Mather  writes  : \n\"  I  am  informed  that  yesterday  the  six  men  who  call \nthemselves  the  corporation  of  the  college  met,  and, \ncontrary  to  the  epidemical  expectation  of  the  coun- \ntry, chose  a  modest  young  man,  Sewall,  for  whose \npiety  (and  little  else)  every  one  gives  a  laudable \ncharacter.\"  He  adds,  characteristically  :\"  I  always \nforetold  these  two  things  of  the  corporation  :  first, \nthat  if  it  were  possible  for  them  to  steer  clear  of  me, \n\n\n13^  THE   TIMES   OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\nthey  would  do  so  ;  secondly,  that  if  it  were  possible \nfor  them  to  act  foolishly,  they  will  do  so.  The  per- \npetual envy  with  which  my  essays  to  serve  the  King- \ndom of  God  are  treated  among  them,  and  the  dread \nthat  Satan  has  of  my  beating  up  his  quarters  at  the \ncollege,  led  me  into  the  former  sentiment ;  the  mar- \nvellous indiscretion  with  which  the  affairs  of  the \ncollege  are  managed  led  me  into  the  latter.\" \n\nThe  year  that  Governor  Winthrop  died  was  the \nsame  in  which  King  Charles  the  First  was  beheaded, \nand  that  event  had  an  important  bearing  upon  the \ninterests  of  Boston.  It  was  also  the  year  in  which \nParliament  passed  an  act  for  the  promotion  of  the \ngospel  in  New  England,  which  led  to  the  formation \nof  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel \namong  the  Indians,  the  learned  experimental  phi- \nlosopher, Robert  Boyle,  being  appointed  the  first \npresident,  by  King  Charles  the  Second,  after  his \nrestoration,  in  1662.  This  society  was  useful  in  sup- \nplying funds  for  the  encouragement  of  the  \"Apostle  \" \nEliot,  in  the  labors  that  he  had  already  begun, \nthough  it  had  been  anticipated  by  the  general  court \nof  the  Massachusetts  colony  two  years  before  Win- \nthrop died. \n\nIt  is  said  that  at  about  this  time  the  \"  scrupulos- \nity \"  of  the  good  people  of  Boston  was  at  its  height, \nand  in  proof  of  it  Hutchinson  remarks  that  Governor \nEndicott,  one  of  the  most  rigid  of  the  magistrates, \njoined  in  an  association  pledged  to  use  its  influence \nagainst  the  wearing  of  long  hair,  as  \"  a  thing  uncivil \nand  unmanly ;  fit  only  for  Russians  and  barbarous \nIndians.\"     It  was  established  as  good  form  not  to \n\n\nTALKING  IN  MEETING.  1 37 \n\npermit  the  hair  to  grow  below  the  ears,  though  gov- \nernor Hutchinson  wonders  why  some  good  soul  did \nnot  retort  the  text  in  Leviticus,  \"Ye  shall  not  round \nthe  corners  of  your  heads.\"  There  had  been  much \nlegislation  and  discussion  regarding  matters  of  this \nkind  from  the  beginning  of  the  settlement.  As  early \nas  the  year  after  his  arrival  in  Boston,  Mr.  Cotton\" \nwas  moved  to  preach  at  Salem  on  the  subject  of \nveils  ;  the  court  had  passed  a  law  against  tobacco,* \nthe  use  of  which  Mr.  Winthrop  had  given  up  before \ncoming  to  America ;  and  there  were  laws  concerning \nthe  wearing  of  gold  and  silver  laces,  girdles  and  hat- \nbands, embroidered  caps,  and  too  great  sleeves ; \nconcerning  all  of  which,  the  citizens  of  the  little \nhamlet  in  the  wilderness  had  been  guilty.  It  was \npermitted  to  those  who  had  such  vanities  to  wear \nthem  out,  but  not  to  have  new  ones  made.  There \nhad  previously  been  a  regulation  mulcting  smokers \nin  the  sum  of  one  penny  sterling  for  every  time  of \ntaking  tobacco  in  any  place,  but  apparently  it  did \nnot  suffice.  In  1635  a  law  was  passed  fining  persons \ntwelve  pence  for  falling  into  \"  private  conference  \" \nin  public  meetings — that  is,  for  talking  in  meet- \ning,— and  the  court  was  constantly  giving  its  atten- \ntion to  small  matters  of  this  sort. \n\nThe   Agawam  Cobbler  thought   to    influence   his \ncountrywomen  by  satire  ;  and  though  he  asserted \n\n*  The  law  reads  :  \"  It  is  ordered  that  no  person  shall  take  tobacco \npublicly,  under  penalty  of  two  shillings  and  sixpence,  nor  privately, \nin  his  own  house  or  in  the  house  of  another,  before  strangers,  and \nthat  two  or  more  shall  not  take  it  together  anywhere,  under  the \naforesaid  penalty  for  each  offence.\" \n\n\n138  THE  TIMES  OF  THE  MATHERS. \n\nthat  he  was  \"  neither  nigard  nor  cinick  to  the  true \nbravery  of  the  true  gentry,\"  he  declared  that  \"  it  is \na  more  common  than  convenient  saying  that  nine \ntaylors  make  a  man  :  it  were  well  if  nineteen  could \nmake  a  woman  to  her  mind,\"  \"  Methinks  it  would \nbreak  the  hearts  of  Englishmen  to  see  so  many \ngoodly  English  women  imprisoned  in  French  cages, \npeering  out  of  their  hood-holes  for  some  men  of \nmercy  to  help  them  with  a  little  wit,  and  nobody \nrelieves  them.  We  have  about  five  or  six  of  them \nin  our  colony  :  if  I  see  any  of  them  accidentally  I \ncannot  cleanse  my  fancy  of  them  for  a  month  after. \n.  .  .  It  is  a  most  unworthy  thing  for  men  that  have \nbones  in  them  to  spend  their  lives  in  making  fiddle- \ncases  for  futulous  women's  fancies  ;  which  are  the \nvery  pettitoes  of  infirmity,  the  giblets  of  perquis- \nquillian  toys.  .  .  .  When  I  hear  a  nugiperous  gen- \ntledame  inquire  what  dress  the  queen  is  in  this  week, \n— what  the  nudiustertian  fashion  of  the  court, — with \n6gg^  to  be  in  it  in  all  haste  ;  I  look  at  her  as  the \nvery  gizzard  of  a  trifle,  the  product  of  a  quarter  of  a \ncipher,  the  epitome  of  nothing,  fitter  to  be  kickt,  if \nshe  were  of  a  kickable  substance,  than  either  hon- \nored or  humored.\"  It  is  doubtful  if  the  \"  nugiper- \nous gentledames\"  knew  enough  Latin  to  understand \nthe  \"  loose-tongued  liberty  \"  with  which  they  were \naddressed  by  this  ferocious  crusader. \n\nDuring  the  time  of  Cromwell  the  people  of  Bos- \nton kept  on  their  independent  way  with  less  dififi- \nculty  than  before  ;  they  increased  their  trade  and \nimproved  their  town  ;  they  went  so  far  in  the  way \nof  independence  that  in  1652  they  began  to  coin  the \n\n\nPROTESTATIONS   OF  LOYALTY.  139 \n\nbullion  that  flowed  to  them  from  the  West  Indies \nand  elsewhere,  putting  on  the  money,  not  the  arms \nof  the  king  or  the  name  of  the  mother-country,  but \nsimply  the  words  \"  New  England  \"  and  \"  Massachu- \nsetts.\" Parliament  was  too  much  occupied  to  inter- \nfere, and  it  seems  that  Charles  the  Second,  after  his \nrestoration,  allowed  the  process  to  continue.  The \ntown  was  alarmed  by  news  of  the  war  between  Eng- \nland and  Holland,  which,  it  was  supposed,  would \nmake  complications  with  the  New  Netherlands,  and \nby  a  rising  of  the  Narragansett  Indians  in  Connecti- \ncut, which  came  about  in  consequence  of  the  relations \nbetween  the  Indians  and  the  Dutch.  Boston  did  not \napprove  of  war  in  this  instance,  and  it  was  not  pros- \necuted. \n\nAt  the  Restoration,  the  struggle  over  the  charter \nwas  renewed.  Goffe  and  Whalley,  two  of  the  judges \nwho  had  condemned  Charles  the  First,  fled  to  Amer- \nica at  that  time,  and  were  received  in  Boston,  as  might \nhave  been  expected,  with  cordiality.  The  king  was \nnot  \"  proclaimed,\"  and  no  \"  address  \"  was  sent  to  him. \nIt  was  not  long  before  the  colonists  were  called  upon \nto  meet  more  charges  made  against  them  by  Quakers \nand  others,  and  then  an  address  was  sent  to  Charles \nthe  Second,  abounding  in  protestations  of  loyalty. \nTo  this  the  king  replied  in  language  that  seemed \nkindly,  but  was  not  very  satisfactory  to  the  colo- \nnists. He  demanded,  at  last,  that  the  freedom  of  con- \nscience, which  they  emphasized,  should  be  extended \nto  those  who  used  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  ; \nthat  the  elective  franchise  should  be  given  to  others \nthan  merely  the  members  of  the  orthodox  churches; \n\n\nI40  THE   TIMES   OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\nand  that  the  fugitive  judges  should  be  arrested  and \nreturned.  The  judges  probably  obtained  early  in- \nformation of  the  king's  demands,  and  when  Gov- \nernor Endicott  sent  officers  for  them  they  were  not \nto  be  found. \n\nAt  about  the  same  time  the  busy  industry  that \ncommerce  had  developed  was  interfered  with  by  an \nAct  of  Navigation,  under  the  terms  of  which  every \nthing  imported  into  Boston,  except  in  English  ships \nmanned  by  English  sailors,  was  liable  to  forfeiture. \nThe  court  now  thought  it  necessary  to  make  a  dec- \nlaration of  rights  under  the  charter,  and  at  a  meet- \ning held  in  Boston,  June  lo,  1661,  it  asserted  that \nthe  governor  and  company  formed  a  body  politic, \ncompetent  to  make  freemen,  to  set  up  all  sorts  of \nofHcers,  to  make  laws,  and  to  repel  invaders,  but  in \nall  things  to  be  loyal  to  the  king.  The  king  was \nproclaimed  in  Boston  in  the  following  August,  fif- \nteen months  after  his  accession,  by  order  of  this \n\"  loyal  \"  '  court.  No  wonder  the  tardy  colonists \nnever  stood  well  with  his  Majesty  King  Charles  the \nSecond.  Their  real  feelings  were  too  apparent. \nThey  sent  two  agents  to  London  in  1662,  to  look \nout  for  the  colonial  interests,  who  brought  back  a \nletter  from  the  king,  which  the  court  proceeded  to \nconsider  at  its  meeting  August  3,  1664,  after  a  delay \nof  two  years.  Meantime  there  had  been  rumors  that \nmen-of-war  were  coming  from  England  with  troops \nand  commissioners  charged  with  the  duty  of  deter- \nmining all  matters  of  complaint.  Eleven  days  be- \nfore the  August  meeting  the  commissioners  had  ac- \ntually arrived.     There    had   been  a  solemn   fast   in \n\n\nFERVENT    PLEAS. \n\n\n141 \n\n\nanticipation  of  this  event,  and  \"  in  view  of  the  many \ndistractions  and  troubles  under  which  the  country  \" \nlabored  ;  the  train-bands  had  been  put  in  order  and \nthe  Castle  prepared  to  give  speedy  notice  of  the  ex- \npected arrivals.  The  commissioners  came,  but  were \nnot  able  to  remain  long  enough  to  attend  the  Au- \ngust meeting.  They  went  to  New  Amsterdam,  with \nwhich  also  they  had  business. \n\nAfter  two  months  of  solemn  discussion  (and  we \nmay  be  sure  that  the  affair  was  looked  upon  as  a \nserious  one),  a  letter  was  ready  for  the  \"  Dread  Sov- \neraigne.\"      In    it    the    poor    subjects    \"prostrated\" \nthemselves    before   the   royal   feet,    and  with    some \neloquence  in  a  now  antiquated  style,  begged  favor. \nThey    made    fervent    pleas    for   themselves,   stiffly \nasserted  the   rights  that  they  conceived  were  theirs \nby   the    sacred    charter,    pathetically  presented    the \nstory  of  the  burdens  of  a  new  plantation,  referred  to \n\"  the  great  labors,  hazards,  costs,  and  dififlculties  \"  of \n\"  wrestling  with  the  wants  of  a  wilderness,\"  and  to \nthe  royal  promise  of  encouragement  and  protection \nconveyed  in    the    king's  letter  of    February,    1660; \nand   asserted  that   they  were  grievously, afflicted  by \nthe  plan  of  sending  to  them  rulers  that  they  had  no \nhand   in   choosing ;  who   were   to   proceed,   not    by \nestablished  law,  but  by  their  own  discretions ;  that \nit  pained  them  to  see  His  Majesty  put  to  great  ex- \npense in  a  business  that  would  never  reimburse  one- \nhalf  the  amount  that  was  to  be  laid  out  on  it.  They \nreiterate  the   assertion  that  they  did  not  come    to \nthe  wilderness  to  seek  great  things  for  themselves  ; \nthat  they  meddled   not  with   any  business  but  their \n\n\n142  THE   TIMES   OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\nown  ;  that  they  were  carefully  studious  of  all  due \nsubjection  to  His  Majesty,  not  only  for  wrath,  but \nfor  conscience  sake  ;  and  in  conclusion  they  exclaim, \n\"  Royal  Sir;  it  is  in  your  power  to  say  of  your  poor \npeople  of  New  England,  they  shall  not  die  .  .  .  Let \nour  government  live,  let  our  patent  live,  our  magis- \ntrates live,  our  laws  and  liberties  live,  our  religious \nenjoyments  live,  so  shall  we  all  }^et  have  further \ncause  to  say  from  our  hearts,  let  the  king  live  for- \never !  .  .  .  And  the  blessing  of  them  that  were \nready  to  perish  shall  come  upon  your  majesty,  .  .  . \nand  we  and  ours  shall  have  lasting  cause  to  rejoice \nthat  we  have  been  numbered  among  your  majesties \nmost  humble  servants  and  suppliants.\" \n\nThe  king's  commissioners  met  in  Boston  in  the \nfollowing  February,  and  attempted  to  sit  as  a  court \nto  hear  complaints  against  the  governor  and  com- \npany; but  the  general  court  disapproved  of  such \naction,  as  inconsistent  with  the  duty  to  God  and  the \nking  which  every  colonist  owed,  and  by  sound  of \ntrumpet  prohibited  all  persons  from  sustaining  the \ncommissioners,  who  were,  therefore,  unable  to  accom- \nplish any  thing,  and  gave  up  the  contest,  telling  the \nBoston  people  that  they  would  refer  the  matter  to \nHis  Majesty,  who,  they  expressively  added,  \"  is  of \npower  enough  to  make  himself  to  be  obeyed  in  all \nhis  dominions.\"  The  king  wrote,  in  reply  to  the \nletter  of  the  court  of  October,  that  he  would  recall \nthe  commissioners,  since  it  was  evident  that  the \ncolonists  thought  that  the  charter  had  been  violated \nby  their  appointment ;  but  he  directed  that  four  or \nfive  persons  should  be  sent  to  him  that  he  might \n\n\nI^EW  ENGLAND  RICH   AND   INDEPENDENT.     1 43 \n\nhear  what  was  to  be  said  on  that  side.  The  court \nacknowledged  this  demand,  but  declined  to  send \nany  one  to  the  king,  saying  that  all  had  been  said \nthat  there  was  to  say,  and  that  they  preferred  to \ncommit  themselves  to  God.  Boston  and  other  com- \nmercial towns  opposed  this  cavalier  action,  and  the \ncommissioners  also  protested,  but  in  vain.  The \ncolonists  endeavored  to  appease  the  king,  however, \nby  sending  him  a  present  of  some  shiploads  of  masts \nand  other  timber  for  the  royal  navy.  The  contest \nwas  for  a  time  closed,  and  during  the  following  ten \nyears  there  were  few  communications  between  the \nparties  at  odds. \n\nJohn  Evelyn  tells  us  in  his  Diary  that  when  the \nBoard  of  Trade*  met  to  organize  and  take  the  official \noaths,  May  26,  1671,  and  \"  to  counsel  his  majesty  to \nthe  best  of  our  abilities  for  the  well-governing  of  his \nforeign  plantations,\"  what  was  \"  most  insisted  on \nwas  to  know  the  condition  of  New  England.\"  To \nthe  board  the  people  of  that  colony  appeared  \"  to  be \nvery  independent  as  to  their  regard  to  Old  England \nor  his  majesty,  rich  and  strong  as  they  now  were,\" \nand  there  was  \"great  debate\"  as  to  how  such \ncolonists  should  be  addressed,  \"  for  the  condition  of \nthat  colony  was  such  that  they  were  able  to  contest \nwith  all  other  plantations  about  them,  and  there  was \n\n*  This  important  body  comprised  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  the \nEarl  of  Sandwich,  Sir  George  Carteret,  and  others.  Its  sessions \nwere  held  in  the  house  of  the  Earl  of  Bristol,  in  Lincoln's  Inn \nFields,  which  had  been  taken  for  the  purpose.  There  were  seven \nrooms  on  a  floor,  with  long  gallery,  gardens,  etc.,  and  the  meeting- \nroom  was  appropriately  furnished  with  atlases,  maps,  charts,  globes, \netc. \n\n\n144  THE  TIMES  OF  THE   MATHERS. \n\nfear  of  their  breaking  from  all  dependence \"  on \nEngland.  Some  members  were  in  favor  of  sending \n\"a  menacing  letter,  which  those  who  better  under- \nstood the  peevish  and  touchy  humor  of  that  colony \nwere  utterly  against.\"  On  the  sixth  of  June  there \nwas  another  debate  on  the  same  subject,  and  it  was \ndecided  that  any  action  towards  New  England \nshould  be  \"  civil  and  conciliating,\"  because  it  was \nunderstood  that  the  people  were  certainly  \"  almost \nupon  the  very  brink  of  renouncing  any  dependence \non  the  crown.\"  One  would  almost  think  that  this \nwas  written  in  1771,  instead  of  167 1.  It  shows  that \nhowever  the  Boston  people  might  protest  their \nloyalty,  their  acts  appeared  to  observers  at  a  distance \nto  be  those  of  men  bound  to  maintain  their  inde- \npendency,— to  govern  themselves  under  their  char- \nter, it  is  true,  but  to  stretch  its  provisions  to  the \nutmost  in  their  own  favor. \n\nThe  king  did  not  acknowledge  the  gift  of  masts \nuntil  1669,  though  his  clerk  of  the  navy,  the  garru- \nlous Samuel  Pepys,  wrote  in  his  private  diary  that  it \nwas  \"  a  blessing  mighty  unexpected,\"  without  which \nthe  efforts  of  the  navy  might  have  failed  the  follow- \ning year,  and  he  praised  God  \"  for  thus  much  good \nfortune.\"  Eight  years  later,  the  same  \"  poor  sub- \njects\" in  the  \"remote  corner  of  the  earth,\"  sent  his \nmajesty  \"  ten  barrels  of  cranberries,  two  hogsheads \nof  special  good  samp,  and  three  thousand  codfish,\" \nwith  their  compliments. \n\n\nXII. \n\n\nTHE   CHARTER   IS   LOST. \n\n\nBoston  was  happily  situated  in  many  respects, \nbut  in  one  particular  it  was  especially  fortunate.  Its \nremoteness  from  the  great  body  of  Indians  gave  it \nimmunity  from  those  attacks  which  devastated  many \ntowns  in  Connecticut  and  others  in  Massachusetts, \nas  well  as  those  in  the  more  northerly  eastern  region. \nWe  read  of  intercourse  between  the  immigrants  and \nthe  natives  from  time  to  time:  how  they  came  to \ntown  to  complain  of  ill-treatment  on  the  part  of \nwhites  who  were  supposed  to  be  under  Massachu- \nsetts  jurisdiction  ;  how  they  asked  protection  tribe \nfrom  tribe  ;  how  they  at  one  time  took  advantage  of \nthe  Sunday  gathering  to  break  into  an  unprotected \ndwelling ;  how  they  were  convicted  of  assaulting \nEnglishmen,  and  were  set  in  the  bilboes  for  their \npains;  and  how  the  Pequod  tribe  had  been  fought \nto  the  fearful  death  ;  but  these  were  as  nothing  to \nthe  terrible  experiences  that  were  suffered  at  Haver- \nhill, at  Dover,  at  Deerfield. \n\nThere  was  an  Indian  called  Philip,  who  made  his \nsqualid  home  at  Mount  Hope  or  Montaup,  and \nseemed  to  have  little  respect  for  the  whites,  and  to \ncare  nothing  whether  he  offended  or  pleased  them. \n\n145 \n\n\nH^  THE    CHARTER   IS  LOST. \n\nTrouble  was  to  come  from  him,  not  because  Boston \nhad  any  grievance  with  him,  but  because  Plymouth \ncomplained  of  his  actions,  and  by  the  articles  of \nconfederation  the  Massachusetts  colony  was  obliged \nto  give  aid  to  her  sister.  Philip  was  accused  of \nhatching  a  general  conspiracy  among  the  Indians \nfor  the  slaughter  of  all  the  Europeans  around. \n\nMassachusetts  was  at  peace,  her  men  were  busy \nat  their  trades,  her  matrons  were  caring  for  their \nfamilies,  her  children  were  going  to  the  schools  and \nthe  college,  her  dwellings  were  growing  in  elegance \nand  comfort,  her  fishermen  w^ere  bringing  in  the \nspoil  of  the  mackerel  and  the  whale  ;  those  of  the \ninhabitants  who  stood  for  men  of  letters  were  pro- \nducing works  treating  serious  subjects  that  were \nthought  worthy  of  notice  in  the  mother-country,  and \nthere  was  promise  of  still  greater  progress  in  all  that \nrefines  and  exalts  a  people.  Quaker  and  Baptist  no \nlonger  gave  solicitude,  and  no  menace  came  from \nEngland.  Under  such  peaceful  circumstances  Bos- \nton, and  all  New  England,  were  terrified  by  the \nmost  threatening  Indian  disturbance  that  had  yet \nbeen  known. \n\nIn  June,  1675,  there  came  news  to  Plymouth  that \nPhilip  and  his  men  were  constantly  in  arms  ;  that \nthey  had  sent  their  wives  to  places  of  safety ;  that \nmany  strange  Indians  flocked  to  them  ;  that  the \nyoung  Indians  were  \"  earnest  for  a  war  \"  ;  and, \nfinally,  that  the  town  of  Swanzey,  the  nearest  to  the \nIndian  country,  had  been  attacked ;  that  two  houses \nhad  been  burned,  a  dozen  more  rifled,  and  several \nwhites    killed,  upon  whose  bodies  the  savages  had \n\n\nA    FRIGHTFUL   INDIAN   WAH.  I47 \n\n\"  exercised  more  than  brutish  barbarities,  beheading, \ndismembering,  and  mangling  them,  and  exposing \nthem  in  a  most  inhuman  manner.\"  The  frightful \nnews  was  sent  post  to  Boston,  and  there  were \nhurried  arrangements,  not  for  defence  only,  but \nfor  the  pursuit,  capture,  and  destruction  of  the \nIndians. \n\nJohn  Leverett  was  governor  at  the  time.  He  was \nan  old  soldier  of  Cromwell's  wars,  and  knew  the \ndemands  of  the  moment.  The  council  was  immedi- \nately called  together,  and  Captain  Edward  Hutchin- \nson was  directed  to  proceed  to  the  Narragansetts \nand  order  them  to  break  off  correspondence  with \nPhilip,  and  to  give  the  English  all  possible  informa- \ntion of  his  designs.  Leverett  concentrated  what \nforces  he  could  at  Boston  and  sent  messengers  to \nPhilip.  They  found  war  actually  begun,  and  re- \nturned with  the  news,  spreading  the  alarm  as  they \nwent.  On  their  arrival  drums  were  beat  up  for \nvolunteers,  and  in  the  short  space  of  three  hours  one \nhundred  and  ten  men  were  ready  to  set  out.  It \nseems  that  a  Dutchman  under  sentence  of  death  for \npiracy,  with  others  in  like  condition,  was  allowed \nto  volunteer. \n\nThus  Boston  made  its  hurried  preparations,  and  a \nwar  which  lasted  more  than  a  year  was  begun.  It \nwas  marked  by  all  the  proverbial  atrocities  of  Indian \nwarfare.  Massachusetts  had  six  settlements  on  the \nConnecticut  River,  all  of  which  suffered.  Northfield, \nDeerfield,  and  Springfield  were  burned  ;  but  North- \nampton, Hadley,  and  Hatfield,  though  attacked, \nwere  not  destroyed.     An  incident  that  occurred  near \n\n\n148  THE   CHARTER   IS  LOST. \n\nBoston  shows  the  dangers  of  the  times  and  the  spirit \nof  the  people.  On  a  Sunday  in  July,  when  the \nmembers  of  the  houshold,  excepting  a  maid-servant \nand  children,  were  at  meeting,  an  Indian  came  to \nthe  house  of  John  Minot,  in  Dorchester,  about  five \nmiles  from  Boston,  and  tried  to  gain  admission. \nThe  door  was  shut,  and  he  attempted  a  window. \nThe  maid,  with  presence  of  mind,  quickly  hid  the \nchildren  who  had  been  left  in  her  charge  under  two \nbrass  kettles,  ran  upstairs,  and  fired  a  musket  at  the \nintruder.  The  Indian  also  fired,  but  missed  his  aim, \nupon  which  the  maid  shot  him  in  the  shoulder,  but \nthe  wound  was  not  severe  enough  to  make  him  give \nup  his  attempt.  He  was  actually  entering  the  win- \ndow when  the  maid  threw  a  shovelful  of  live  coals  in \nhis  face  and  forced  him  to  retreat  in  pain,  at  the \nsame  time  placing  a  mark  upon  him  by  which  he \nwas  identified  when  he  was  afterwards  found  dead  in \nthe  woods.  Both  the  intensity  of  feeling  and  the \nquickness  of  the  Boston  men  to  rally  when  required \nare  shown  by  the  fact  that,  on  a  day  in  September, \nwhen  a  guard  at  Mendon,  thirty  miles  away,  fired  his \ngun  in  a  drunken  excess,  the  alarm  spread  until  it \nreached  the  town  at  about  ten  in  the  morning,  and \ntwelve  hundred  men  were  under  arms  in  an  hour. \nIn  consequence  of  the  trials  of  this  w'ar  there  was  a \nsolemn  fast  in  October. \n\nWhile  it  was  summer  the  savages  had  the  better \nof  their  enemies,  but,  as  winter  came  on,  their  pros- \npect darkened.  In  December  a  company  of  foot  and \nhorse  marched  from  Boston  and  fell  upon  the  enemy \nin  the  Narragansett  country.     The  Indians  were  in \n\n\nDEATH  OF  PHILIP.  1 49 \n\na  fort ;  snow  covered  the  ground,  and  there  was  no \nshelter  for  the  English  for  miles. \n\nThe  fort  was  stormed,  seven  hundred  fighting  In- \ndians were  slain,  three  hundred  more  were  wounded \nand  died  afterwards,  besides  large  numbers  that  per- \nished by  fire  and  cold.  The  English  loss  was  prob- \nably but  one  hundred,  and  has  been  estimated  at  a \nsmaller  number.  There  was  determination  on  both \nsides  :  the  natives  were  fighting  for  their  homes \nagainst  a  people  that  they  felt  to  be  superior  to \nthem,  and  the  whites  were  convinced  that  their  very \npreservation  depended  upon  striking  a  heavy  blow \nat  an  insidious  and  treacherous  opponent.  It  was  a \nbloody  and  frightful  bravery. \n\nDuring  the  winter  there  were  other  raids  by  horse \nand  foot  against  the  Indians  in  various  directions; \nPhilip  himself  once  ventured  within  twenty-two \nmiles  of  Boston  and  destroyed  much  property,  and \nelsewhere  the  colonists  were  shot  down  by  unseen \nfoes,  their  cattle  were  killed,  and  their  houses  burned. \nThe  decisive  struggle  occurred  at  Great  Falls,  on  the \nConnecticut,  in  May,  1676,  and  then  the  cause  of  the \nredskins  went  down  apace  :  their  haunts  were  broken \nup,  and  Philip  was  hunted  from  place  to  place  until \nAugust,  when  he  was  surprised,  near  Mount  Hope, \nand  killed  by  an  Indian  bullet,  fourteen  months \nafter  he  had  begun  the  war  at  that  very  spot. \n\nThe  colonies  most  distressed  were  Massachusetts \nand  Plymouth,  though  Connecticut  had  done  its \nshare  of  the  fighting,  and  had  suffered  the  penalties \nof  war.  Plymouth  was  almost  ruined,  but  Massa- \nchusetts   was  able   to   recover   from   its  great   loss. \n\n\n150  THE    CHARTER  IS  LOST. \n\nThe  towns  were  drained  of  men  ;  six  hundred  of  the \ncolonists  had  perished  ;  thousands  found  themselves \nsuffering  from  the  losses  and  sorrows  that  followed  ; \nsix  hundred  dwellings  had  been  burned,  some  towns \ntotally  destroyed,  and  expenses  incurred  that  were \nenormous  in  comparison  with  the  resources  of  the \ncolonists ;  but  not  a  plea  was  sent  to  England  for \nhelp.  The  Americans  were  \"  poor  and  yet  proud,\" \nas  Lord  Anglesey,  \"  not  altogether  groundlessly,\" \nwrote  from  London.  They  were  not  willing  to \nplace  themselves  under  any  obligation  to  the  crown, \nand  yet  they  did  not  disdain  to  accept  thankfully  a \ngift  of  a  thousand  pouiids  contributed  \"  by  divers \nChristians  in  Ireland,\"  to  those  who  were,  as  it  was \nexpressed,  \"  impoverished,  distressed,  and  in  necessity \nby  the  late  war.\"*  Hutchinson  is  authority  for  the \nstatement  that  all  the  sums  bestowed  upon  the \ncolony  from  abroad  were  equalled  by  remittances \nsent  thence  after  the  fire  in  London,  and  at  other \ntimes,  for  the  relief  of  sufferers,  so  that  it  is  evident \nthat  even  in  these  cases  the  colonists  kept  the  gen- \nerous accounts  balanced. \n\nThe  war  with  Philip  caused  the  court  to  enact \nmore  rigid  laws  against  Indians,  and  it  was  ordered \n\"  that  a  guard  be  set  against  the  entrance  of  the \ntown  of  Boston  [on  the  Neck],  and  that  no  Indian \nbe  suffered  to  enter  upon  any  pretext,  and  without \na  guard  and  two  musketeers,   and  not  to  lodge  in \n\n*  This  charitable  gift  was  returned  to  Ireland  by  Boston,  in  1847, \non  the  occasion  of  the  potato  famine  of  that  and  the  previous  years. \nInteresting  details  regarding  the  facts  mentioned  are  to  be  found  in \na  contribution  to  the  N.  E.  Hist.  Gen.  Register,  by  Dr.  Charles \nDeane,  vol.  ii.,  pages  245,  398. \n\n\nASSERTING  INDEPENDENCE.  151 \n\ntown.\"  Indians  even  approaching  by  land  or  water \nwere  liable  to  arrest.  Most  of  those  who  had  previ- \nously given  themselves  up  to  the  government  were \nsent  to  Deer  Island,  where  they  remained  during  the \nwinter,  enduring  some  suffering.  Many  of  the \nwomen  and  children  who  had  been  made  prisoners \nwere  sold  into  West  Indian  slavery,  in  spite  of \npathetic  protests  from  their  friend,  John  Eliot,  who \nwrote,  in  a  formal  letter  to  the  council,  that  such \ntreatment  was  worse  than  death,  and  contrary  to  the \nteachings  of  the  Saviour.  He  said  :  \"  To  sell  souls \nfor  money  seems  to  me  a  dangerous  merchandize.\" \nEver  after  this  terrible  war  there  was  a  horror  con- \nnected with  the  mention  of  an  Indian. \n\nIn  writing  to  Governor  Leverett,  Lord  Anglesey \ntook  occasion  to  chide  him,  and  \"the  whole  people \nof  New  England,\"  for  acting  as  if  they  were  inde- \npendent of  the  crown,  and  needed  not  the  protection \nof  the  king,  and  he  assured  them  that  His  Majesty \nhad  a  tender  and  compassionate  heart  for  all  his \nsubjects  who  were  industrious  and  orderly.  Never- \ntheless, whatever  King  Charles  may  have  been \ndesirous  of  doing  for  his  subjects  who  were  \"  indus- \ntrious and  orderly,\"  he  was  not  unwilling  to  take \nadvantage  of  the  distress  occasioned  by  this  war  to \nmake  another  move  towards  the  abrogation  of  their \ncharter.  At  the  very  height  of  the  Indian  troubles \nhe  sent  a  letter  to  the  Massachusetts  court  by  the \nhands  of  Edward  Randolph,  \"  the  evil  genius  of \nNew  England,\"  as  he  has  been  called,  authorizing \nhim  to  institute  inquiries  which  struck  at  the  very \nfoundations  of  the  government. \n\n\n152  THE   CHARTER  IS  LOST. \n\nRandolph,  who  subsequently  crossed  the  ocean  at \nleast  fifteen  times,  reached  Boston  a  few  weeks  before \nPhilip's  death,  when  the  public  sorrow  and  distress \nwere  great,  and  proceeded  to  stir  up  all  possible  dis- \nsatisfaction with  the  magistrates.     He  learned,  and \nvery  soon  reported,  that  \"  the  corporation  of  Boston \nis   the   most   flourishing   and   powerful,  and   at   the \npresent  gives  laws  to  a  great  part  of  this  country,  by \na  pretended   charter  from   His  late  Majesty.\"     He \nfound  that  there  were  two  parties,  the  patriots  and \nprerogative  men,  whigs  and  tories,  one  of  which  was \nready  to  acquiesce  in  the  orders  of  the  king,  while \nthe  other  held  by  the  principles  of  the   fathers,  who \nwished,  as  they  had  told  their  sovereign,  to  govern \nthemselves    after    their  own    manner.     Among  the \nmembers  of  these  parties  Randolph  sowed  the  seeds \nof  bitter  strife,  and  as  a  special  measure  recommended \nthe  appointment  of  a  general  governor  through  whom \nKing  Charles  might  have  direct  control  of  the  colo- \nnies.    This  done,  Randolph  returned  to  England,  in \nJuly,  1676.     The  colonists  followed  him  with  agents \ncharged  with  the  presentation  of  their  cause  to  the \nking.     When  these  agents  arrived  in  London  they \nfound,  of  course,  that  the  minds  of  those  in  influence \nhad  been  prejudiced  against  them  and  their  cause. \nThey  remained   until   the  end   of   1679,   when  they \nwere  ordered  back,  the  colonists  being  directed  to \nsend  others  in  their  stead. \n\nThe  first  agents  had  accomplished  nothing  ;  and \nmeantime  Randolph  had  been  crossing  and  recross- \ning  the  ocean,  exciting  the  Americans  on  the  one \nhand  and  the  king  on  the  other.     Matters  thus  con- \n\n\nRANDOLPH,    THE  EVIL    GENIUS.  1 53 \n\nstantly  grew  worse  ;  the  king  is  represented  to  have \nbeen  \"  greatly  provoked,  and  the  colonists  were \nalmost  hopeless.  Finally  the  second  agents  con- \ncluded that  the  case  was  too  desperate  for  them,  and \ncalled  upon  the  general  court  to  decide  whether  it \nwas  best  for  them  to  remain  any  longer.  The  court \nmet  in  March,  1683,  and  voted  to  allow  them  to \n\"  accept  of  and  consent  unto  such  proposals  and \ndemands  as  might  consist  with  the  main  end  of  their \npredecessors  in  their  removing  hither  with  their \ncharter.\" \n\nA  few  weeks  after  this  vote  had  been  taken,  Ran- \ndolph sailed  for  home,  and  in  June,  1683,  made \nthirteen  formal  charges  against  the  colonists.  He \naccused  them  of  assuming  powers  that  the  charter \ndid  not  give  ;  of  carrying  on  the  government  in \nanother  place  than  that  which  was  intended  ;  of \nimposing  an  oath  of  fidelity  that  included  no  prom- \nise of  allegiance  to  the  king  ;  of  opposing  the  acts \nof  navigation  ;  of  levying  customs  ;  of  discounte- \nnancing the  Church  of  England  ;  of  coining  money, \nand  of  other  misdemeanors.  The  agents,  unable  to \neffect  any  thing,  returned  to  Boston,  in  October, \n1683,  and  Randolph  followed  immediately  with  a \nquo  warranto,  or  writ  requiring  the  Massachusetts \ncolony  to  answer  by  what  right  certain  powers  had \nbeen  exercised.  Joseph  Dudley,  a  degenerate  son \nof  Winthrop's  old  friend,  was  one  of  the  \"  assistants,\" \nand  it  seems  that  on  a  visit  to  England  he  had  made \nfriends  with  the  \"mammon  of  unrighteousness,\" \nand  was  ready  to  take  an  open  stand  against  the \ncolonists,  a  fact  which   Randolph  had   surmised  be- \n\n\n154  THE   CHARTER  IS  LOST. \n\nfore  this  time.  Dudley  saw  that  the  charter  was \ndoomed,  and  wished  to  gain  for  himself  favor  from \nthe  king.  The  colonists  at  last  discovered  his  true \ncharacter,  and  he  was  dropped  from  the  list  of \nmagistrates  in  May,  1684. \n\nThe  governor  and  a  majority  of  the  assistants,  in- \nfluenced by  Dudley,  had  by  this  time  become  hope- \nless, and  voted  an  address  to  the  king,  in  which \nthey  declared  that  they  laid  themselves  at  his  ma- \njesty's feet  and  would  not  contend  ;  but  from  this \nthe  deputies  dissented,  and  the  freemen  of  Boston, \nunder  the  lead  of  Increase  Mather,  at  a  meeting \nlawfully  warned  for  the  purpose  of  considering  the \nmatter,  voted  unanimously  that  they  would  not  re- \nsign their  charter  and  privileges  and  make  submis- \nsion to  His  Majesty.  Mather  said  :  \"  I  verily  believe \nthat  we  shall  sin  against  the  God  of  heaven  if  we \nvote  an  affirmative.  The  Scripture  teacheth  us \notherwise :  '  That  which  the  Lord  our  God  hath \ngiven  us,  shall  we  not  possess  it?  '  \"  It  was  not  the \nfirst  time  that  Mather  had  raised  his  powerful  voice \nin  similar  strains.  Three  years  previously  he  had \npreached  a  sermon  ostensibly  in  reference  to  comets \nand  earthquakes,  but  really  having  political  lessons, \nin  which  Scripture  was  aptly  quoted  to  prove  that \nGod  would  interfere  to  protect  his  New  England \nchildren. \n\nThe  records  of  this  notable  town-meeting  are  not \npreserved,  but  we  have  a  paper,  apparently  from  the \nhand  of  Increase  Mather,  in  which  the  subject  be- \nfore it  is  discussed  with  as  much  regularity  as  the \ncharges  of  Randolph  were  made   in  his  application \n\n\nPOPISH  COUNSELS  AT  COURT.  1 55 \n\nfor  the  quo  warranto.  It  argues  that  the  sacred \ndocument  ought  not  to  be  given  up,  because  it \nwould  be  \"  destructive  to  the  interests  of  rehgion  \"  ; \nnothing  would  be  gained  by  it  (those  corporations \nthat  had  already  submitted  to  the  pleasure  of  the \ncourt  had  gained  nothing)*  ;  it  would  be  a  departure \nfrom  the  ancient  principles  and  policy  of  the  colon}^, \nfor  in  1638,  though  under  a  quo  zvarranto,  which  had \nbeen  issued  in  1635,  judgment  had  been  given \nagainst  the  charter,  the  fathers  did  not  and  durst \nnot  make  submission,  and  in  1664  they  would  not \nhave  commissioners  over  them  ;  there  was  fear  of \n\"  popish  counsels  \"  at  court  ;  it  would  be  contrary \nto  the  advice  of  the  ministers,  given  only  three  years \nbefore,  after  \"  a  solemn  day  of  prayer \"  ;  and  it \nought  not  to  be  done  in  any  event  without  the  con- \nsent of  the  whole  body  of  the  freemen  and  church- \nmembers.  Then,  there  is  the  sixth  commandment, \nfor  commonwealth-killing  is  as  bad  as  man-killing  ; \nsuicide  is  forbidden. — Judges,  xi.,  24,  27  ;  I  Kings, \nxxi.,  3,  etc. \n\nThis  was  no  sudden  impulse  on  the  part  of  the \ndeputies,  nor  of  the  town  of  Boston  ;  the  deputies \ndebated  the  question  two  weeks,  and  then  voted \nthat  they  would  not  consent,  but  adhered  to  their \nformer  view.  It  made  no  difference,  however,  what \nthe  town  of  Boston  thought,  what  the  whole  body \nof  freemen  and  church-members  thought ;  everything \nhad  been  arranged  by  Randolph  and  the  king,  and \n\n*  The  allusion  is  to  the  quo  warranto  against  the  city  of  London, \nover  which  there  had  been  great  discussion  not  long  before  this \n(June  12,  1683). \n\n\n15^  THE    CHARTER  IS  LOST. \n\nthe  people  of  England  interested  in  trade  stood  be- \nhind them.  Randolph,  who  now  returned  to  Lon- \ndon, took  the  votes  to  his  royal  master,  and  confi- \ndently looked  for  news  that  Dudley  had  prevailed \nupon  the  deputies  to  change  their  minds  ;  but  he \nwas  disappointed.  Dudley  wrote,  instead,  that  all \nwho  tried  to  lead  the  deputies  to  cast  themselves \nhumbly  at  the  feet  of  the  king  were  regarded  as \nenemies  to  public  peace  and  liberty.  Worse  than \nall,  it  was  reported  that  the  governor  and  magis- \ntrates at  Boston  had  been  very  busy  repairing  forti- \nfications. \n\nThe  general  court  again  addressed  the  king,  reit- \nerating the  appeal,  as  from  his  \"  poor  subjects,\"  re- \nminding him  that  they  were  the  children  of  those \nwho,  under  security  of  a  charter  granted  them  by \nhis  father,  had  left  \"all  that  was  dear  to  them,\"  etc., \netc.,  as  in  former  addresses.  Among  themselves  they \navowed  their  intention  to  \"  spin  out  the  case  to  the \nuttermost  \"  ;  but  they  were  staggered  in  September, \n1684,  by  the  intelligence  that  a  decree  had  been  en- \ntered in  the  court  of  chancery  in  June,  vacating  the \ncharter.  A  session  of  the  general  court  was  held, \nand  the  information  presented  ;  but  nothing  more \nwas  done.  F'ive  weeks  later  another  session  was \nheld,  and  a  last  plea  prepared  to  be  sent  to  the  king. \nIt  sufficed  nothing  ;  the  sons  had  lost  what  the  fa- \nthers had  gained,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  hearty \nstruggles  of  half  a  century  had  availed  nothing. \nKing  Charles,  in  his  gracious  love  for  the  New  Eng- \nland colonists,  selected  as  their  new  \"-overnor  the \nnotoriously  bloody  Col.  Piercy  Kirke  of  the  Second \n\n\nBLOODY   COLONEL   KLRKE.  I  57 \n\nFoot,  whose  subsequent  atrocities  have  made  him \ninfamous.  The  colony  awaited  his  coming  with \ndread.*  Meantime  His  Majesty  was  called  to  ac- \ncount to  a  higher  power  for  his  share  in  the  transac- \ntion of  the  past  years.  The  people  of  Massachu- \nsetts still  treasured  the  charter  ;  its  parchment  and \nits  seals  were  intact,  and  the  sign-manual  of  the \nminister  of  King  Charles  the  First  was  as  distinct  as \never  ;  but  possession  did  not  give  validity.  It  was \ndead  sheepskin,  and  dead  wax,  and  conveyed  no \nrights  to  its  holders. \n\n*  This  was  before  the  Bloody  Assize,  when  Jeffries  condemned \nmore  than  three  hundred  at  once  to  the  gallows  ;  and  when  Kirke \nand  his  officers  sat  carousing  at  the  White  Hart  at  Taunton,  order- \ning a  prisoner  hanged  for  their  merriment  at  every  toast,  causing \ndrums  to  give  music  for  the  drunken  crew  the  meanwhile.  It  was \nat  the  time  when  the  captured  rebels  were  sold  to  be  sent  to  Jamaica \nas  slaves,  by  request  of  the  queen  and  her  maids  of  honor,  to  furnish \nthem  money  to  bedeck  their  bodies.  We  cannot  imagine  the  terrible \nforebodings  of  the  colonists. \n\n\nXIII. \n\n\nAN  'AMERICAN    DESPOTISM. \n\n\nTo  understand  the  feelings  of  the  Bostonians  at \nthis  juncture,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  death \nof  Charles  the  Second,  just  at  the  time  when  the \ncharter  was  lost,  placed  on  the  throne  of  England  a \nsovereign  from  whom  they  could  expect  only  worse \ntreatment,  for  James  the  Second  was  looked  upon \nas  surely  a  papist,  and  that  the  colony  should  have \nfallen  into  the  hands  of  such  an  one  was  of  all  things \nthe  most  to  be  dreaded.  Not  only  this,  but  the \nevents  that  occurred  in  the  rebellion  of  Monmouth \nwere  calculated  to  throw  the  colonists  into  a  state \nof  consternation.  They  expected  that  Col.  Kirke \nwould  be  their  governor  ;  sent  over  with  absolute \nauthority,  responsible  to  the  king  only  ;  and  as  the \nstories  of  his  doings  after  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor \ncame  to  them,  they  doubtless  all  shuddered  with  Secre- \ntary Rawson  as  he  said  :  \"  Our  condition  is  awful !  \" \nAccustomed  to  the  atrocities  of  the  savages,  the \nAmericans  could  appreciate  keenly  the  situation  that \nthey  would  find  themselves  in  if  their  ruler  were  one \ntrained  in  African  warfare,  for  Kirke  had  been  gov- \nernor of  Tangiers.  Increase  Mather  said  of  him  : \n\"  That  cruel,  and  horrid,  and  hideous  tiger,  whose \n\n158 \n\n\nANTICIPATED  HORRORS.  159 \n\nbarbarous  cruelties  have  rendered  him  famous  to  all \nsucceeding  ages,  was  coming  over  with  a  regiment  of \nmyrmidons,  in  quality  of  governor.\"  It  matters  not \nthat  the  character  of  this  threatened  governor  was \nblackened  by  report  far  beyond  truth  ;  we  are  con- \ncerned only  to  remind  ourselves  of  the  consternation \ninto  which  the  people  of  Boston  were  thrown  by  the \nnews  that  Kirke  had  been  appointed  by  one  king  and \nconfirmed  by  his  successor.  It  presented  to  them \nscenes  which  cannot  be  described, — real,  as  they  then \nappeared  in  the  correspondence  with  their  agent  and \nothers  in  the  mother-country  ;  pictures  of  a  coarse \nand  brutal  soldiery,  led  by  an  equally  coarse  and \nbrutal  captain,  quartered  upon  the  community,  and \nmaking  themselves  free  with  all  that  was  held  sa- \ncred. It  was  a  picture  of  pandemonium,  as  if  the \n\"  promiscuous  crew  \"  described  by  the  Puritan  poet \nwere  to  be  turned  loose  upon  the  land  that  the  Lord \nhad  reserved  for  better  things. \n\nThe  suffering  in  anticipation  must  have  been  in- \ntense throughout  New  England  ;  but  it  was  not \ndestined  to  be  real,  for  James  found  that  the \nservices  of  Kirke  were  more  needed  at  home  than \nabroad,  and  he  was  never  sent  to  America.  In  his \nplace  the  king  chose  Joseph  Dudley,  of  whom  Ran- \ndolph said,  \"  no  man  better  understands  the  con- \nstitution of  your  country  and  hath  more  loyalty  and \nrespect  to  his  majesty's  affairs.\"  The  old  form  of \ngovernment  had  been  continued  after  the  abrogation \nof  the  charter  simply  because  there  was  nothing  else \nto  be  done,  and  the  court  was  too  much  occupied \nafter  the  death  of  King  Charles  to  give  attention  to \n\n\nl6o  AN  AMERICAN  DESPOTISM. \n\nany  thing  so  remote  as  the  colonies,  especially  when \nthe  rebellion  called  for  prompt  action.  It  was  not \nuntil  the  middle  of  May,  1686,  that  a  commission \nreached  Boston  under  which  Mr.  Dudley  was \nelevated  to  the  office  of  president,  a  position  in \nwhich  he  thought  that  no  American  was  his  equal. \nCertainly  his  domain  was  sufficiently  extensive,  for \nhis  commission  made  him  supreme  over  the  colony \nof  the  Massachusetts  Bay,  Maine,  New  Hampshire, \nand  the  Narragansett  Country,  and  he  was  also  vice- \nadmiral  of  the  seas  around  New  England.  A \ndeputy-president  and  sixteen  councillors  were  to \nexercise  authority  with  him,  but  there  was  no  plan \nfor  a  house  of  representatives  of  the  people. \n\nRandolph  was  already  registrar  of  the  same  region, \nand  he  and  Dudley  now  laid  their  commissions  be- \nfore the  general  court,  addressing  them,  however,  as \n\"some  of  the  principal  gentlemen  and  chief  inhabi- \ntants of  the  several  towns  of  the  Massachusetts,\"  in \norder  that  their  official  capacity  might  not  be \nacknowledged.  The  court  gave  up  under  protest, \nsaying  that  the  rule  for  the  administration  of  justice \nseemed  indeterminate  and  too  arbitrary,  and  that \nthey  were  to  be  abridged  of  their  liberties  as \nEnglishmen,  which,  they  significantly  added,  may \nnot  \"  be  safe  for  you  or  for  us.\"  The  court  ad- \njourned until  a  day  in  the  autumn,  throwing  upon \nthe  new  officers  all  responsibility  for  the  govern- \nment of  the  people,  and  hoping,  as  Randolph  said, \nthat  by  some  unhappy  accident  in  England,  or  by \nraising  dissensions  among  the  new  rulers,  they  might \nsucceed  in  dissolving  the  constitution  and  thus  re- \n\n\nTHE  EAST  END    OF    THE    TOWN-HOUSE.       l6l \n\nassume  the  direction  of  affairs  themselves.  The  book \nof  the  records  of  the  Massachusetts  colony  was  now \nclosed. \n\nA  week  or  so  later  the  new  government,  which \nhad  been  duly  proclaimed,  was  convened  ;  twenty- \none  pounds'  worth  of  wine  was  drunk  in  its  honor, \nand  there  was  some  affectation  of  general  festivity ; \nbut  it  was  factitious,  the  people  were  simply  acqui- \nescent. Differences  soon  arose  between  Dudley \nand  Randolph.  Dudley  was  not  sufficiently  favor- \nable to  the  Church  of  England.  He  wrote  a  letter \nto  Increase  Mather  the  very  day  that  he  made  his \ndemand  upon  the  general  court,  in  which  he  said \nthat  he  was  exceedingly  anxious  for  the  prosperity \nof  his  \"  dear  mother  at  Cambridge,\"  and  that  he  de- \nsired to  act  in  civil  matters  in  such  a  way  as  to \nreceive  the  approval  of  one  to  whom  he  had  so  long \nlooked  for  ghostly  counsel.  Mather  was  at  the  time \n■president  of  Harvard  College,  and  also  the  minister \nof  greatest  influence  in  the  colony,  and  doubtless \nDudley  was  sincere  in  desiring  to  retain  his  favor. \nDudley  was  also  not  sufficiently  active  in  encoura- \nging the  Episcopalians  to  suit  Randolph  ;  and  when \nthe  minister,  Mr.  Robert  Radcliffe,  whom  Randolph \nthought  \"  a  sober  man,\"  petitioned  for  the  privilege \nof  using  one  of  the  three  meeting-houses  for  his  ser- \nvice, neither  of  them  was  allowed  him,  but  he  was \n\"granted  the  east  end  of  the  Town-House,  where \nthe  deputies  use  to  meet,  until  those  who  desire  his \nministry  shall  provide  a  litter  place.\"  After  this \nRandolph  discovered  that  Dudley  was  \"  a  man  of \nbase,  servile,  and  anti-monarchical  principles.\"     He \n\n\n1 62  AN  AMERICAN  DESPOTISM. \n\ncomplained  that  his  own  hfe  was  made  very  uneasy, \nthat  \"  Independent  ministers  flourish  and  expect  to \nbe  advised  with  in  pubhc  affairs\"  ;  and  that  but  one \nmember  of  the  government  besides  himself  was  a \nmember  of  the  Established  Church. \n\nOn  the  first  Sunday  after  the  inauguration  of  the \nroyal  government,  Mr.  Radcliffe  worshipped  accord- \ning to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England  in  the \nTown-House.  Sewall  records  in  his  diary  that  as  he \nsat  at  home  he  listened  to  the  reading  \"  in  course,\" \nby  his  son  of  two  passages  \"  exceedingly  suited  to \nthe  day.\"  They  were  the  twenty-sixth  chapter  of \nIsaiah,  and  the  one  hundred  and  forty-first  Psalm. \nWe  can  imagine  the  twain  sitting  that  day  in  the \nhouse  near  the  water,  on  the  present  Washington \nStreet,  near  Summer,  which  had  been  occupied  by \nhis  father-in-law,  John  Hull,  the  first  man  to  coin \nmoney  for  the  colonists.*  There  sat  Samuel  Sewall \nthe  typical  Puritan ;  the  man  who  would  not  sell  a \nslice  of  his  grounds  to  the  Episcopalians  for  a  church \nlot ;  the  rich,  sagacious,  garrulous  scholar,  listening \nto  the  words  as  they  fell  from  the  lips  of  his  son,  and \nmaking  his  inward  comments.  Both  noticed  the  in- \nteresting fact  that  the  passages  they  read  came  \"  in \ncourse.\"     Let  us  listen  : \n\n\"  Lord,  I  cry  unto  thee  :  make  haste  unto  me.     .     . \n\n*  John  Hull  owned  a  house  near  Pemberton  Square  (which  had \nbeen  occupied  by  John  Cotton  and  Harry  Vane),  described  as  being \n\"considerably  distant  from  other  buildings  and  very  bleak,\"  but \nSewall  still  occupied  the  old  home.  The  investigations  of  the  late \nEstes  Howe,  communicated  to  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society \nin  November,  1884,  in  a  letter  to  Charles  Deane,  LL.D  ,  settled  the \nmatter. \n\n\nRADCLIFFE'S  MOVABLE  PULPIT.  1 63 \n\nLet  the  wicked  fall  into  their  own  nets,  whilst  that  I \nwithal  escape.  .  .  .  When  their  judges  are  over- \nthrown in  stony  places,  they  shall  hear  my  words  :  for \nthey  are  sweet.  .  .  .  Our  bones  are  scattered  at \nthe  grave's  mouth.  .  .  .  Trust  ye  in  the  Lord \nforever.  .  .  .  For  he  bringeth  down  them  that  dwell  on \nhigh.  .  .  .  Lord,  wilt  thou  ordain  peace  for  us. \n.  .  .  Thou  hast  increased  the  nation,  O  Lord,  thou  hast \nincreased  the  nation  :  thou  art  glorified  :  thou  hadst \nremoved  it  far  unto  all  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Lord \nin  trouble  have  they  visited  thee  ;  they  poured  out \na  prayer  when  thy  chastening  was  upon  them.  .  .  . \nCome,  my  people,  enter  thou  into  thy  chambers,  and \nshut  thy  doors  about  thee  ;  hide  thyself  as  it  were  for  a \nlittle  moment,  until  the  indignation  be  overpast.\" \n\nThe  meeting  that  Mr.  Radcliffe  was  to  have  held \nwas  deferred  until  the  sixth  of  June,  \"  at  which  time \nthe  pulpit  is  provided.\"  \"  The  pulpit  is  movable,\" \nMr.  Sewall  says,  \"  carried  up  and  down  stairs,  as  oc- \ncasion serves ;  it  seems  many  crowded  thither,  and \nthe  ministers  preached  forenoon  and  afternoon \" ; \nbut  it  mattered  not,  the  words  of  David  and  of \nIsaiah  were  comforting  to  the  Puritan,  who  looked \nupon  the  minister  of  the  Established  Church  as  one \nwhose  insidious  influence  would  upturn  all  that  was \nsacred,  and  fasten  upon  the  colonists  the  burden  of \nbishops  and  every  hateful  thing  that  they  had  left \ntheir  mother-country  to  free  themselves  from.  To \nRandolph,  acting  under  directions  of  his  royal  mas- \nter, the  establishment  of  Episcopal  services  in  Bos- \nton is  due.  He  counted  that  there  were  four  hun- \ndred attendants  upon  the  services  by  the  following \n\n\n164  AN  AMERICAN  DESPOTISM. \n\nOctober,  though  \"  some  were  tradesmen  and  others \nof  mechanical  professions,  and  threatened  by  the \ncongregational  men  to  be  arrested  by  their  creditors \nor  to  be  turned  out  of  their  work  if  they  come  to \nour  church.\"  Few  persons  in  Boston  had  ever  at- \ntended such  a  service,  and  there  was  much  curiosity \nin  regard  to  it. \n\nDudley  did  not  long  enjoy  his  greatness,  for  in \nDecember  a  new  governor.  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  ar- \nrived in  a  fifty-gun  ship  the  Kingfisher .  He  reached \nNantasket  on  the  nineteenth,  but  it  was  Sunday, \nand  he  did  not  land  until  the  next  day.  Mr.  Sewall \nwas  engaged  in  reading  the  Song  of  Habakkuk,  at \nthe  time  of  the  Sunday  arrival,  when  he  heard  a \ngun,  and  immediately  thought  of  the  new  governor; \n\"  but  none  of  the  family  speaking  of  it,\"  he  writes, \n\"  I  held  my  peace.\"  He  kept  on  reading  the  mag- \nnificent words  before  him,  and  comforting  his  soul \nin  the  midst  of  the  tribulations  of  the  church  and \nstate. \n\n'*  O  Lord,  I  have   heard  the  report  of  thee,  and  am \nafraid.     ...      In    wrath    remember   mercy. \nTlie    eternal    mountains    were    scattered,    the    everlast- \ning hills  did  bow.     .     .     .     Thou  didst  march  through \nthe  land  in  indignation,  thou  didst  thresh  the  nations  in \nanger.     .     .     .     Thou   woundest   the   head   out    of  the \nhouse  of  the  wicked.     .     .     .     Thou  didst  pierce   with \nhis  own  staves  the  head  of  his  warriors  :  they  came  as  a \nwhirlwind  to   scatter  me  ;  their  rejoicing  was  as  to  de- \nvour the  poor  secretly.     ...     I   heard  and  my  belly \ntrembled,  my  lips  quivered  at  the  voice.     .     .     . \n'*  Though  the  fig  tree  shall  not  blossom, \nNeither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines  ; \n\n\nSEWALL   COMFORTS  HIS  SOUL.  1 65 \n\nThe  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail. \n\n\n*> \n\n\nAnd  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ; \nThe  flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold, \nAnd  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stalls  : \nYet  will  I  rejoice  in  the  Lord, \nI  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation.\" \n\nMonday  afternoon  Andros  came  up  to  Governor \nLeverett's  (now  Long)  wharf,  where  Dudley  and \nothers  met  him,  and  a  procession  was  formed  that \nmarched  the  short  distance  to  the  Town-House, \nwhere  the  royal  commission  was  read.  Standing \nwith  his  hat  on,  he  took  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and \nshowed  something  of  the  spirit  in  which  he  came, \nby  almost-  immediately  speaking  to  the  ministers  in \nthe  library  about  accommodations  as  to  a  meeting- \nhouse for  the  Episcopalians,  suggesting  that  one \nhouse  might  serve  for  two  assemblies  in  the  same \nday.  The  ministers  did  not  give  him  a  definite \nreply ;  but  on  Wednesday  evening,  after  having \ntaken  time  to  confer  with  others,  Mr.  Mather  and \nMr.  Samuel  Willard,  of  the  South  Church,  called \nupon  the  new  governor  at  his  lodgings,  at  Madame \nTaylor's,  on  Hanover  Street,  at  the  corner  of  Elm \nStreet,  and  told  him  \"  with  great  plainness  \"  that \nthey  could  consent  to  no  such  arrangement  as  he \nproposed.  The  following  day  the  governor  did  not \nattend  the  \"  lecture,\"  but  on  Saturday,  which  was \nChristmas,  and  a  very  fair  and  pleasant  day,  he \nwalked  forenoon  and  afternoon  to  the  Town-House, \nto  hear  service.  Andros  was  not  able  to  restrain \nhimself  long,  and  when  Good- Friday  approached  he \ndetermined  to  find  better  accommodations  than  a \n\n\ni66 \n\n\nAN  AMERICAN  DESPOTISM. \n\n\ncorner  of  the  Town-House.  He  therefore  exam- \nined the  three  meeting-houses,  and  demanded  the \nuse  of  the  South  on  the  Wednesday  before.  It  was \nrefused  by  those  who  had  control  over  it,  but  he \nprevailed   upon  \"  goodman   Needham  \"  to  ring  the \n\n\nTHE    FIRST    king's    CHAPEL    (l683),    SHOWING   THE   BEACON. \n\nbell  and  open  the  door  on  Friday  morning,  and  the \nservice  was  held.  The  governor  continued  to  use \nthe  building  until  the  first  King's  Chapel  was  built \nin  1686.  On  the  first  Sunday  of  this  use  of  the  Old \nSouth,  the  exercises  were  very  long,  and  the  regular \n\n\nAT    THE   KING'S  MERCY.  167 \n\ncongregation  was  obliged  to  stand  in  the  street, \nprobably  in  a  very  undevout  frame  of  mind,  moving \nto  and  fro,  until  after  two  o'clock ;  but  an  effort  was \nmade  to  harmonize  the  hours  of  the  two  sets  of \nworshippers  afterwards. \n\nAccording  to  the  principles  that  controlled  the \ngovernor's  action,  every  privilege  and  right  that  had \nbeen  founded  upon  the  charter  now  fell  to  the \nground,  for  the  king  of  England  was  possessor  of \nthe  soil  of  New  England  by  virtue  of  the  discovery \nof  the  Cabots.  Massachusetts  had  no  legislative  nor \nexecutive  power ;  the  struggles  of  the  past  had  won \nnothing  for  the  Americans ;  every  thing  was  at  the \nmercy  of  the  sovereign  as  extended  through  his \nrepresentative,  the  governor.  The  Americans  had  no \ninterest  in  the  Magna  Charta  ;  the  governor  and  coun- \ncil could  regulate  trade,  constitute  courts  of  justice, \ndirect  the  militia,  and  plan  and  execute  naval  opera- \ntions ;  the  governor  was  ordered  to  protect  liberty \nof  conscience,  but  that  valued  little,  for  he  was  to \ncountenance  and  encourage  the  Church  of  England  ; \nhe  could  impose  taxes  and  collect  them.  The  men \nof  Boston  felt  that  they  were  bound  hand  and  foot. \n\nAndros  and  Randolph  now  went  to  work  with  a  will \nto  carry  out  the  principles  which  have  just  been  out- \nlined ;  they  called  for  the  public  records,  and  directed \nthat  all  of  them  should  be  deposited  at  Boston  ;  they \ndemanded  fees  \"  extraordinary  and  oppressive\"  for \nregistering  wills,  deeds,  and  mortgages  ;  they  caused \njurors  and  witnesses  to  kiss  the  Bible  when  taking \noaths,  instead  of  holding  up  the  right  hand,  as  had \nbeen  the  custom  (this  was  thought  idolatrous) ;  they \n\n\nl68  AN  AMERICAN   DESPOTISM. \n\nimposed  arbitrary  taxes,  and  demanded  that  new \npatents  should  be  taken  out  by  all  landholders,  for \nwhich  fees  were  charged.  Such  dealings  as  these \ncould  not  be  permitted,  and  even  if  the  public  ofificers \nwho  undertook  to  perform  them  had  been  popular, \nthe  people  would  soon  have  rebelled.  They  thought \nthat  the  taxes  should  not  be  levied  except  by  their \nrepresentatives,  and  they  hoped  that  even  so  arbi- \ntrary a  prince  as  King  James  would  permit  his  re- \nmote subjects  to  have  a  house  of  representatives; \nbut  he  was  certain  to  be  arbitrary  both  at  home  and \nabroad,  and  there  was  no  prospect  of  relief.  In \n1688,  internal  trade  was  obstructed  by  a  law  confin- \ning the  business  of  every  dealer  to  his  own  town, \nand  prohibiting  the  sales  of  goods  by  peddlers  or \ntravelling  merchants;  heavy  taxes  also  were  laid \nupon  trade;  and  finally  the  spring  meetings  of  the \ntowns  were  estopped. \n\nMatters  had  reached  such  a  pass  by  the  spring  of \n1 688  that  the  citizens  of  Boston  determined  to  send \na  representative  to  plead  in  person  for  them  with  the \nking.  They  chose  the  Reverend  Increase  Mather, \nthen  at  the  age  of  forty-eight,  and  at  the  height  of \nhis  reputation.  He  set  sail  April  17th,  and  to \nescape  the  enmity  of  Randolph,  was  obliged  to  dis- \nguise himself  and  reach  his  ship  by  night.  The \nvoyage  was  a  short  one,  and  Mather  soon  had  the \ninterview  that  he  sought  with  King  James  at  White- \nhall. The  king  happened  at  that  time  to  be  desirous \nto  cultivate  friendship  with  dissenters,  and  listened \nwith  courtesy  to  the  Puritan  preacher  as  he  asked \nfor  checks  upon  the  progress  of  Episcopacy  in  New \n\n\nA   BUZZING  AMONG    THE   PEOPLE.  1 69 \n\nEngland  ;    he  also  vaguely  promised  a  satisfactory- \nsettlement  of  the  matter  of  titles  to  lands.     Mather \nseems  to  have  had  hopes  aroused  that  the  king  would \neven  recall  his  favorite  Andros.     While  these  delus- \nive negotiations  were  slowly  progressing,  on  the  fifth \nof  November  William  of  Orange  landed  on  English \nsoil,  and  William  and  Mary  were  soon  proclaimed. \nThe  news  did  not  reach  Boston  until  the  following \nApril.     It  arrived  just   after  Andros   had   returned \nfrom  an  expedition  to  the  eastward,  where  he  had \nbeen  with  a  thousand  men  to  pacify  the  Indian  tribes. \nThe   political    movements    in   England  were  well \nknown  in  Boston  as  they  occurred,  and  it  seems  that \nan  insurrection  was  imminent  before  the  final  news \narrived  there.     In  the  middle  of  April  there  was  a \n\"  buzzing  among  the  people,  great  with  expectation  \" \nof    something,    apparently    they    knew    not    what. \nAndros  knew  before  he  returned   from   Maine  that \nWilliam   had   landed,   and   he   was   on   the   alert   to \nguard  against  the  entrance  of  any  fleet  into  the  har- \nbor; but  he  was  not  prepared  for  what  actually  hap- \npened.    On   Thursday,  the  eighteenth   of  April,   it \nwas  reported  at   the   South    End  that  there  was  a \nsudden  rising  at  the  North  End,  and  the  same  report \nwas  spread  at  the   North   End  regarding  the  other \npart  of  town  ;  by  nine  o'clock  the  drums  were  beat- \ning through  the  streets,  an  ensign  was  set  up  on  the \nBeacon,  the  people  were  in  arms  on  all  sides ;  Ran- \ndolph and  the  chief  supporters  of  the  governor  were \narrested   and  lodged   in  jail,  and   a   number  of  the \nprincipal  citizens,  including  the  venerable  ex-govern- \nor, Simon  Bradstreet,  convened  at  the  Town-House. \n\n\nI/O  AN  AMERICAN  DESPOTISM. \n\nAt  noon  some  of  these  gentlemen  appeared  on  the \nbalcony  overlooking  King  Street  (now  State),  and \nread  to  the  crowd  a  \"  Declaration  of  the  Gentlemen, \nMerchants,  and  Inhabitants  of  Boston,  and  the  Coun- \ntry Adjacent,\"  in  which  they  gave  a  brief  account  of \nthe  oppression  under  which  the  colony  had  suffered, \nreferred  to  the  \"noble  undertaking  of  the  Prince  of \nOrange,\"  and  declared  that  the  persons  of  the  few \nof  the  grand  authors  of  the  public  miseries  had  been \nseized  to  secure  them  for  such  justice  as  the  prince \nand  parliament  should  decree.  It  closed  by  advising \nall  the  neighbors,  for  whom  they  had  endangered \nthemselves,  to  join  in  prayer  and  action  for  the  de- \nfence of  the  land.  A  message  was  sent  to  Andros, \nin  which  the  signers  said  :  \"  Ourselves  and  many \nothers,  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  and  places  adja- \ncent, being  surprized  with  the  people's  sudden  taking \narms,  in  the  first  motion  whereof  we  were  wholly \nignorant,  are  necessitated  to  acquaint  your  excel- \nlency \"  that,  to  quiet  the  people  and  for  your  own \nsafety,  it  is  best  that  you  give  up  yourself  and  the \ngovernment  and  fortifications  to  be  disposed  of \naccording  to  orders  that  are  expected  to  arrive  at \nany  moment.  Andros  was  confined  for  one  night  in \nMr.  John  Usher's  house,  and  was  then  taken  to  the \nFort.  Dudley,  \\vho  was  absent  on  official  duty,  was \ncapturtd  and  confined  in  his  house  at  Roxbury,  for \nhis  safe'y,  as  the  people  euphemistically  expressed \nthemselves.  The  following  day  the  Castle  was  sur- \nrendered, and  the  Rose  frigate  struck  her  topmasts. \n\nMr.  Bradstreet,  and  the  others  who  had  taken  the \ncharge  of  these  affairs,  formed  themselves  into  \"  A \n\n\nMATHER'S    WORK   IN  ENGLAND.  171 \n\nCouncil  for  the  Safety  of  the  People  and  the  Con- \nservation of  the  Peace,\"  and  called  a  meeting  of \ndeputies  for  the  ninth  of  May.  As  a  matter  of  pru- \ndence the  old  charter  was  not  resumed,  and  news \nwas  anxiously  awaited  from  England.  It  came  in  a \nfew  weeks,  and  William  and  Mary  were  proclaimed \nin  Boston  with  greater  ceremony  than  had  ever  been \nknown  on  such  an  occasion  before.  Andros  and \nDudley  were  kept  in  confinement  about  twenty \nweeks,  and  then  sent  to  England  by  royal  order  in \nFebruary,  1690. \n\nMeantime  Mather  was  in  England,  laboring  earn- \nestly for  the  restoration  of  the  charter.  He  easily \nobtained  promises  that  religious  liberty  should  be \nensured ;  but  the  restoration  of  the  charter  in  its \noriginal  terms  was  vigorously  opposed,  and  there \nwas  an  old-time  war  of  pamphlets.  After  many \ndelays,  after  an  interview  with  the  queen,  at  which \nshe  promised  her  influence  in  behalf  of  the  Ameri- \ncans, and  much  correspondence,  a  new  charter  was \nsigned  on  the  seventh  of  October,  1691.  Sir  William \nPhips  was  nominated  governor  by  the  representatives \nof  New  England,  and  duly  appointed  by  the  king. \nIn  company  with  Mather  he  left  London  in  March, \nand  arrived  at  Boston  May  14,  1692. \n\n\nXIV. \n\n\nTHE    king's   governors    BEGIN   TO   RULE. \n\n\nThe  period  that  we  now  close  was  one  of  the \ngreatest  importance,  not  only  in  the  history  of  Bos- \nton and  New  England,  but  also  in  the  history  of  the \nAmerican  people.  Two  generations  of  emigrants \nhad  been  carefully  building  up  a  republican  form  of \ngovernment  on  strange  shores.  They  had  been  edu- \ncating themselves  in  the  independent  management \nof  public  affairs,  and  they  were  the  most  notable \ncommunity  of  men  who  up  to  that  time  had  been \ngoing  through  a  similar  process.  At  no  point \non  the  American  continent  was  there  a  settlement \nof  Englishmen  who  had  come  to  the  New  World \nfor  a  purpose  so  explicit  and  pronounced  ;  nowhere \nwas  there  one  that  attracted  so  much  attention \nin  England  ;  nowhere  was  there  one  that  exerted \nso  great  an  influence  upon  the  future  of  the  whole \nnation  that  afterwards  grew  up.  Whatever  Win- \nthrop,  and  those  who  came  and  acted  with  him \ndesigned  or  thought,  they  laid  the  foundation  of \nindependence  ;  they  stood  up  boldly  against  any \ninterference  with  their  management  of  affairs  ;  and \nthey  handed  down  to  their  children  the  spirit  that \nanimated    their    own    hearts.     The    children  in  the \n\n172 \n\n\nCREEPING   STATESMEN  APPEAR.  1 73 \n\nsecond  generation,  though  inferior  to  their  fathers,''^ \nHkevvise  stood  manfully  for  their  heritage,  but  they \nwere  overpowered,  as  we  have  seen  ;  still  they \ndid  not  intend  to  allow  the  English  government \none  particle  of  authority  among  them  that  they \ncould  hinder  it  from  obtaining.  We  shall  see  their \nchildren  in  turn  wrenching  from  the  sovereign  every \nthing  that  he  had  gained  in  1684. \n\nThe  era  of  the  biblical  commonwealth  that  the \nfathers  of  Boston  had  endeavored  to  establish,  for- \never closed  with  the  abrogation  of  the  charter  of \nKing  Charles  the  First.  The  change  in  every  thing \nthat  concerns  the  management  of  public  affairs  was \ncomplete.  The  Puritans,  in  their  protest  against  the \n\"  corruptions  \"  of  the  church  to  which  they  belonged, \nhad  laid  down  a  hard  and  fast  line  of  conduct,  and \nall  who  overstepped  it  were  liable  to  censure.  Every \nmember  of  the  Boston  community  who  tried  to  be \njust  to  the  royalists  was  looked  upon  askance  by \nthose  who  could  see  nothing  good  in  men  whose \ntheological  opinions  did  not  agree  with  their  own. \nThus  moderate  men  were  naturally  kept  in  the \nbackground,  and  our  impressions  of  the  real  con- \ndition of  affairs  are  in  many  respects  necessarily \nsomewhat  one-sided.  We  see  that  many  acts  in \nthemselves  indifferent  were  thought  then  to  be  of \nthe  greatest  moment.     In  his  determination  not  to \n\n*  The  officers  of  government  in  the  second  generation  were, \nHutchinson  says,  some  of  them  Dii  inijioriim  genfiian  ;  and  one  of \nthe  New  England  divines  is  reported  to  have  said  that  \"  they  were \nin  danger  of  being  undone  by  creeping  statesmen.\"  In  the  first \ngeneration  they  \"  confined  themselves  to  the  principal  gentlemen  of \nfamily,  estate,  understanding,  and  integrity.' \n\n\n1/4    THE  KING'S  GOVERNORS  BEGIN  TO  RULE. \n\noverstep  the  rigid  line  that  had  been  laid  down,  the \nearly  Bostonian,  like  his  partisans  in  England,  went \nto  extremes  of  intolerance  and  bigotry.  It  is  diffi- \ncult to  find  fault  with  earnest  men  who  in  times  of \nexcitement  and  strife  err  in  this  way  ;  but  the  facts \nregarding  them  must  be  known  or  the  men  them- \nselves can  but  partially  be  understood. \n\nIt  strikes  us  as  a  little  odd  that,  when  (in  1687) \n\"  brother  Wing,\"  of  Boston,  arranged  seats  in  a  con- \nvenient room  in  his  private  house,  and  gave  permis- \nsion for  \"  a  man  to  shew  tricks  in  it,\"  certain  other \nbrethren,  including  Judge  Sewall,  should  have  found \nit  necessary  to  go  and  \"  deal  \"  with  him,  showing \nhim  from  \"  what  Dr.  Ames  saith  of  callings,\"  that \nthis  \"  man's  practice  was  unlawful,  and  therefore \nCapt.  Wing  could  not  lawfully  give  him  accommo- \ndation.\" There  was  a  solemn  time  when,  as  Sewall \nsays,  they  \"  sung  the  ninetieth  Psalm  from  the \ntwelfth  verse  \"  before  they  \"  broke  up.\"  We  can \nhardly  appreciate  the  feelings  of  men  who  were  so \nseverely  \"  exercised  \"  as  these  were  because  the \ncross  appeared  in  the  national  colors  ;  but  it  was  to \nthem  the  symbol  of  all  that  they  protested  against \nin  papacy  and  in  the  Church  of  England.  As  late \nas  1686,  fifty-two  years  after  Endicott  cut  the  cross \nout  of  his  flag  at  Salem,  we  find  Sewall  writing  in \nhis  diary  : \n\n\"  I  was  and  am  in  great  exercise  about  the  cross  to  be \nput  in  the  colors,  and  afraid,  if  I  should  have  a  hand  in \nit,  whether  it  may  not  hinder  my  entrance  into  the  holy \nland.  .  .  .  Went  and  discoursed  with  Mr.  Mather. \nHe  judged  it  sin  to  have  it  put  in,  but  the  Captain  not \n\n\nSOME   BOSTON    WAYS.  175 \n\nin  fault  ;  but  I  could  hardly  understand  how  the  com- \nmand of  others  could  wholly  excuse  them,  at  least  me, \nwho  had  spoken  so  much  against  in  April,  1681,  and  that \nsummer  and  forward,  upon  occasion  of  Capt.  Walley's \nputting  the  cross  into  his  colors.\" \n\nThe  change  in  affairs  was  shown  by  the  fact  that \nthough  the  cross  had  been  kept  out  of  the  colors  for \nhalf  a  century,  Sewall  says  that  he  \"  fetcht  honae  the \nsilk  Elizur  Holyoke  had, of  me,  to  make  the  cross,\" \nthough  he  faithfully  read  Cotton's  arguments  to  the \ncontrary.  He  was  obliged  sadly  to  record :  \"  The \ncross  much  set  by  in  England  and  here.\"  Degen- \nerate times,  he  thought  them. \n\nThe  Bostonians  began  to  keep  Sunday  on  Satur- \nday afternoon  at  sunset,  and  it  disturbed  them  very \nmuch  when  the  royalists,  who  came  with  the  king's \ngovernors,  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  do  the  same. \nWhen  the  queen's  birthday  came,  on  Saturday,  in \n1686,  it  was  duly  proclaimed  through  the  town  by \ndrum-beats  ;  but  bonfires  were  forbidden.  In  conse- \nquence of  the  strict  regulations  in  town,  the  persons \nwho  wished  to  have  a  celebration  went  to  the  royal \nships  in  the  harbor,  where  flags  were  raised,  and \nguns  fired  in  the  evening,  and  there  were  many \nhuzzas,  which  were  very  offensive  to  the  Puritans. \nThe  following  day  the  Reverend  Mr.  Willard,  of  the \nSouth  meeting-honse,  expressed  great  grief  (in  his \nprayer)  for  the  \"  profanation  of  the  Sabbath.\"  The \nday  of  the  Thursday  lecture  was  not  so  sacred  ;  but \nwhen  a  man  came  to  Boston  towards  the  end  of  the \nyear  1685  ^\"d  sought  to  set  up  dances,  and  especially \nmixed  dances,  and  to  hold  his  meetings  on  lecture- \n\n\n1/6    THE   KING'S   GOVERNORS  BEGIN  TO   RULE. \n\nday,  boldly  proclaiming  that  he  could  teach  more \ndivinity  by  one  play  than  Mr.  Willard  could,  or  than \nwould  be  found  in  the  Old  Testament,  the  Boston \nministers  came  to  court  and  complained  of  him. \nMr.  Moodey  said  that  it  was  not  a  time  for  New \nEngland  to  dance  ;  and  Mr.  Mather,  as  one  hearer \nreported,  struck  at  the  root  in  an  argument  against \nmixed  dances  at  any  time.  Just  fifty  years  later  the \nselectmen  allowed  a  school  for  dancing  to  be  opened  ; \nbut  the  application  warily  set  forth  that  it  was  a \nschool  for  \"  reading,  writing,  cyphering,  dancing, \nand  the  use  of  the  needle  \"  ;  which  shows  that  in  all \nprobability  it  was  thought  necessary  to  cover  up  the \niniquitous  feature  of  the  proposed  school  under  the \nother  harmless  subjects  that  were  to  be  taught. \nPrevious  applications  to  open  a  dancing-school  had, \nin  fact,  been  denied. \n\nOn  Sunday,  which  was  called  the  Sabbath  Day, \nBostonians  were  exceedingly  strict  in  their  observ- \nance. Not  only  did  the  law  direct  that  there  should \nbe  no  work  on  that  day,  but  every  person  was \nobliged  to  apply  himself  to  the  duties  of  religion \nand  piety,  public  and  private ;  there  was  to  be  no \nunreasonable  walking  in  the  streets  or  the  fields,  no \ndigging  of  graves  or  making  of  coffins,  no  funerals ; \ntwo  or  three  persons  who  might  meet  on  the  street \nby  accident  were  not  permitted  to  stop  to  talk  ;  they \nmight  not  walk  down  to  the  water-side  on  hot  sum- \nmer days,  nor  take  the  air  on  the  Common  ;  nor \ncould  they  be  entertained  in  taverns  except  in \nemergencies.  Justices  were  ordered  to  walk  about \nfor  the  purpose  of  observing  the  people,   to  make \n\n\nMARRIAGES  AND   FUNERALS.  IJJ \n\nsure  that  the  Sunday  laws  were  obeyed.  Marriages \nwere,  in  the  early  times,  solemnized  not  by  the  min- \nister, but  by  a  magistrate,  and  once,  when  it  was \nproposed  to  have  a  wedding  in  Boston,  with  a  minis- \nter from  Hingham  to  preach  a  sermon,  the  magistrates \nsent  word  to  him  to  forbear,  because  they  were  not \nwilling  that  \"the  English  custom  of  ministers  per- \nforming the  solemnity  of  marriage,  which  sermons \nat  such  a  time  might  induce,\"  should  come  into \nvogue.  At  a  funeral  there  was  at  first  no  service  ; \nbut  the  company  came  together  at  the  tolling  of  a \nbell,  and  carried  the  body  solemnly  to  the  grave, \nstanding  by  until  it  was  covered  with  earth,  and \nthat  not  in  a  consecrated  ground,  but  in  some  such \nenclosure  by  the  roadside  as  one  sees  now  fre- \nquently in  America. \n\nIt  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  in  many  respects \nthe  habits  of  the  royalists  who  came  with  the  king's \ngovernors  were  quite  the  reverse  of  all  this,  for  the \ncustoms  of  the  emigrants  had  been  modelled  for  the \nexpress  purpose  of  avoiding  resemblance  to  those \nthey  left  behind  them.  The  religious  customs  of  the \nBoston  churches  did  not  continue  in  the  form  at  first \nestablished,  however,  as  we  learn  from  a  detailed  ac- \ncount of  them  printed  by  Cotton  Mather  in  1726. \nThe  Sunday  laws  remained  strict,  and  it  was  said \nthat  the  body  of  the  people  were  a  sober,  honest,  in- \ndustrious, and  well-disposed  sort  of  men,  \"unexcep- \ntionally  loyal  to  the  British  sceptre,\"  and  \"  better \nacquainted  with  religion  than  in  any  other  country \non  the  face  of  the  earth,\"  some  whole  towns  having \nno  household  that  did  not  maintain  religious  worship. \n\n\n178    THE   KING'S   GOVERNORS  BEGIN   TO   RUIE. \n\nIn  conducting  funerals  a  change  had  come  before \nthe  time  of  Cotton  Mather's  death,  and  we  find  that \nthere  were  prayers  at  the  house,  and  sometimes  a \nspeech  at  the  grave.  Weddings  were  then  generally \nconducted  by  the  ministers,  though  the  justices  had \nstill  the  legal  right  to  marry  people.  Before  mar- \nriage the  parties  to  be  united  were  \"  published,\"  and \nat  the  time  of  the  ceremony  a  certificate  that  this \nhad  been  done  was  presented  to  the  minister,  bearing \nthe  signature  of  the  town-clerk.  Sometimes  there \nwas  a  \"  Contraction  \"  a  little  while  before  the  actual \nwedding,  on  which  occasion  the  pastor  preached  a \nsermon  ;  but  that  custom  fell  into  desuetude.  The \nceremony  began  with  the  presentation  of  the  certifi- \ncate of  publishment,  after  which  the  minister  offered \na  prayer.  He  then  said  to  the  couple  :  \"  You  are \nnow  to  attend  unto  a  covenant  of  God  :  the  covenant \nof  your  marriage  before  him.  Give  therefore  your \nhands  with  your  hearts  unto  one  another.\"  The \nhands  being  joined,  the  minister  called  upon  the  man \nto  promise  to  love,  honor,  and  support  the  woman, \nand  upon  her  to  love,  honor,  and  obey  the  man. \nThe  consent  to  these  covenants  being  \"  in  some  way \nsignified,\"  the  minister  pronounced  the  couple  \"  mar- \nried, according  to  the  laws  of  God  and  of  this \nprovince.\"  The  wedding-ring  was  especially  omit- \nted ;  and  the  exercises  were  concluded  by  a  compre- \nhensive prayer.  In  due  time  a  return  of  the  marriage \nwas  made  by  the  minister  to  the  secular  authorities. \n\nThe  men  of  the  Boston  \"  State-Church,\"  as  Cotton \nMather  calls  it,  protested  mightily  against  imposed \nholy-days,   as    \"  the    first    weapon     wherewith    the \n\n\nHOL  Y  DA  YS   OPPOSED. \n\n\n179 \n\n\nbishop  of  Rome  played  his  prizes  against  other \nchurches\"  ;  but  they  thought  fit  that  the  governor \nshould  proclaim  a  fast-day  in  the  spring  season  and \na  thanksgiving-day  in  the  autumn,  the  proclamation \nto  be  read  by  the  ministers  before  their  congrega- \ntions on  a  Sunday.     Other  such  days  were  allowed \n\n\nTHE    FIRST  CHURCH,    OR     \"OLD    BRICK.\" \nBuilt  on  the  site  of  the  present  Joy's  Building  in  1713,  and  occupied  until  1808. \nsounded  the  alarm  at  the  time  of  the  \"  Massacre,\"  March  5,  1770. \n\n\nIts  bell \n\n\nl80    THE   king's   governors  BEGIN-  TO   RULE. \n\nto  be  appointed  by  the  churches  also  from  time  to \ntime. \n\nEvery  Sunday  the  congregations  met  twice,  the \nintermission  between  the  services  being  shortened  in \ncases  where  the  people  lived  at  considerable  distance \nfrom  the  meeting-house.  When  the  people  were \nassembled,  the  pastor  began  the  services  by  reading \nany  \"  bills  \"  which  might  have  been  handed  him, \nasking  for  special  prayers  or  praises  by  any  of \nthe  neighbors.  There  was  no  liturgy — pagans  had \na  form,  but  the  Saviour  did  not  provide  any  prayer- \nbook, — and  the  minister  was  allowed  \"  liberty  \"  to \nmake  such  supplications  as  seemed  to  him  appro- \npriate in  the  opening,  or  \"  larger  prayer.\"  A  psalm \nwas  next  sung,  it  being  read  line  by  line  by  some \nperson  appointed  by  the  minister,  and  sung  to  some \ngrave  tune,  \"  disorderly  clamors  \"  being  especially \ninhibited.  The  way  was  now  clear  for  the  sermon, \nwhich  was  a  well-studied  treatise,  based  upon  a  text \nfrom  the  Bible,  longer  or  shorter,  as  the  minister \npleased,  and  the  example  of  St.  Paul  was  pleaded  in \ncase  the  minister  felt  disposed  to  continue  an  hour \nor  two,  for  the  Apostle  is  said  to  have  preached  till \nmidnight,  on  one  occasion  at  least.  Preaching  \"  with \nnotes  \"  was  \"  extremely  fashionable  \"  in  1726,  Mr. \nMather  says,  and  he  approved  it,  provided  the  min- \nister could  still  speak  with  vigor  and  vivacity,  and \nnot  lose  his  fervor.  The  sermon  was  followed  by  a \nshort  prayer  and  another  psalm,  and  in  the  afternoon \nthere  was  often  a  \"  collection  \"  for  church  expenses. \nIt  had  formerly  been  thought  improper  to  read  the \nBible  in  the  meeting-houses  without  explanations, \n\n\nP  URI TA  N  WA  YS  UP  TURNED.  1 8  I \n\nbut  Mather  approves  the  custom,  and  says  that  it \nwas  practised  with  profit  in  many  of  the  churches,  a \nfact  that  shows  that  there  was  a  gradual  change  in \nthe  habits  and  customs  of  the  people  in  some \nrespects.  Private  prayers  on  coming  into  church \nwere  especially  disapproved,  it  being  deemed  a \n\"vanity  that  a  Christian  cannot  have  his  devout \nejaculations  without  signalizing  them  unto  the \nnotice  of   his  neighbors.\" \n\nIt  was  a  part  of  Randolph's  work  to  overturn  all \nthese  Puritan  customs,  and  bring  the  people  back  to \ntheir  allegiance  to  the  Church  of  England,  as  well  as \nto  loyalty  to  the  king.  He  began  by  asking  that \nsome  able  ministers  should  be  appointed  to  perform \nthe  duties  of  the  church,  and  that  no  marriaees \nshould  be  lawful  except  those  solemnized  by  a  min- \nister of  the  Church  of  England.  He  thought  that \nthere  would  be  some  who  would  contribute  largely \nto  the  maintenance  of  such,  and  that  something\" \nmight  be  raised  from  the  estates  of  those  persons \nwho  should  prove  treasonable  to  his  majesty.  He \nwrote  that  Boston  was  the  chief  place  in  the  seven \ncolonies  ;  that  it  was  managed  by  \"  men  of  weak  and \ninconsiderable  parts  \"  ;  that  it  had  become  great  by \nreason  of  the  continual  concourse  of  people  from  all \nparts  ;  that  it  drove  a  large  trade,  and  gave  laws  to \nall  the  other  colonies,  but  that  it  was  itself  controlled \nby  the  ministers,  without  whom  the  magistrates  dare \nnot  act.  To  supply  a  new  clergy,  and  a  new  form \nof  service,  would,  Mr.  Randolph  thought,  very  much \nhelp  in  changing  all  this.  He  therefore  arranged  to \nhave  a  supply  of  prayer-books,  tables  of  marriage, \n\n\n1 82    THE   KING'S  GOVERNORS  BEGIN  TO  RULE. \n\nhomilies  of  the  church,  etc.,  ready  to  be  sent  over \nwith  Mr.  Dudley's  commission  as  president,  and  in \nthe  same  ship  with  the  Reverend  Robert  Radcliffe, \nwho,  as  we  have  seen,  was  the  first  Episcopal  clergy- \nman to  hold  service  in  Boston.  Radcliffe  had  been \nin  town  but  three  or  four  days  when  he  solemnized \nthe  first  marriage  in  the  Town-House,  according  to \nthe  service-book,  though  it  was  found  necessary  on \nthe  occasion  to  \"  borrow  a  ring.\" \n\nIf  the  Puritan  ministers  were  objectionable,  so \nmuch  more  was  Harvard  College,  of  which  Governor \nCranfield  wrote  to  Sir  Leoline  Jenkins,  Secretary  of \nState  : \n\n\"There  can  no  greater  evil  attend  his  majesty's  affairs \nhere  than  those  pernicious  and  rebellious  principles \nwhich  flow  from  their  college  at  Cambridge,  which  they \ncall  their  University,  from  whence  all  the  towns  both  in \nthis  and  in  the  other  colonies  are  supplied  with  factious \nand  seditious  preachers,  who  stir  up  the  people  to  a  dis- \nlike of  his  majesty  and  his  government,  and  the  religion \nof  the  Church  of  England,  terming  the  liturgy  of  our \nchurch  a  precedent  of  superstition,  picked  out  of  the \npopish  dunghill  ;■  so  that  I  am  humbly  of  opinion  that \nthis  country  can  never  be  well-settled,  or  the  people \nbecome  good  subjects,  till  their  preachers  be  reformed, \nand  that  college  suppressed,  and  the  several  churches \nsupplied  with  learned  and  orthodox  ministers.\" \n\nMr.  Randolph  ventured  to  suggest  that  the  funds \nof  the  society  for  converting  the  Indians  might  well \nbe  used  in  setting  up  good  schools  and  providing \nfor  the  Church  minister  ;  but,  as  he  had  already \ngiven  the  people  offence,  he  was  afraid  to  attempt \n\n\nS \n\n\n2 \n\n\n2 \nS \n2 \n\nO \n\n\nW \n\n\n—       w \n\n\no \n\nH \n2 \n\n\n183 \n\n\n184    THE   KING'S   GOVERNORS  BEGIN  TO   RULE. \n\nto  seize  it  lest  he  should  too  greatly  increase  their \nhatred  for  him.  The  royalists  might  well  speak  as \nthey  did  about  Harvard  College,  for  it  was  at  the \nmoment  presided  over  by  Increase  Mather,  whom \nRandolph,  venting  his  vain  spleen,  called  \"  Mather, \ntheir  Mahomet,\"  \"  the  bellows  of  sedition  and \ntreason.\" \n\nA  French  refugee,  who  described  Boston  in  1687, \nsaid  that  at  this  time  very  handsome  dwellings  of \nbrick  were  going  up ;  that  the  citizens  were  served, \nto  a  considerable  extent,  by  negroes  and  negresses, \nno  family  being  too  poor  to  have  less  than  one  or \ntwo,  and  many  having  five  or  six,  and  that  savages \nwere  employed  to  work  in  the  fields.  These  negro \nslaves  cost  from  two  hundred  to  four  hundred  francs, \nand  there  was  no  danger  that  they  would  run  away, \nthere  being  no  well-defined  roads  except  those  that \nled  to  the  English  towns  and  villages,  the  citi- \nzens of  which  would  immediately  return  the  run- \naways ;  and,  if  they  took  to  the  woods,  the  savages \nwould  find  them  for  small  compensation.  Workmen \nwere  scarce  and  wages  high,  but  materials  for  build- \ning were  cheap.  All  sorts  of  cattle  were  said  to \nthrive  well,  and  horses  and  cows  were  plenty.  The \nwoods  were  full  of  strawberries,  and  there  were \nchestnuts  and  hazel-nuts  of  \"  wonderful  flavor,\" \nwhile  the  grape  throve  and  produced  good  fruit. \nNo  account  was  made  of  the  fish,  for  the  sea  and \nthe  fresh  waters  were  full  of  them.  Beef,  mutton, \nand  pork  were  plenty  at  two  or  three  pence  per \npound,  and  flour  and  vegetables  were  provided  in \nample    quantities.     The    trade   was  great   with    the \n\n\nTHE   WITCHCRAFT  DELUSION.  1 85 \n\nAmerican  islands  and  with  Spain.  To  the  islands \nthe  ships  carried  salted  beef,  pork,  codfish,  salmon, \noysters,  and  mackerel,  and  brought  back  sugar, \nmolasses,  indigo,  and  sago  ;  while  with  Spain  dried \nfish  was  exchanged  for  oils,  wine  and  brandy,  all  of \nwhich,  however,  was  taken  by  way  of  London,  where \nthe  duty  demanded  by  the  navigation  laws  was  paid. \nBears  and  wolves  abounded  and  committed  ravages \namong  the  sheep,  and  there  were  many  rattlesnakes. \nThere  was  perfect  liberty  for  travellers,  though  those \nwho  wished  to  carry  on  business  were  obliged  to  be \nnaturalized  in  London.  As  for  the  inhabitants,  this \nFrenchman  found  good  and  bad,  \"  as  elsewhere,\" \nthough  the  good  preponderated  ;  and  there  were  all \nkinds  of  life  and  manners.  Some  practised  no  for- \nmality of  marriage,  except  joining  hands  and  then \nliving  together.  There  were  not  more  than  twenty \nFrench  families,  and  the  number  was  daily  diminish- \ning, for  they  were  going  to  settle  elsewhere,  probably \nwith  a  view  to  bettering  their  condition. \n\nThe  first  of  the  king's  governors  arrived  at  Boston \nat  an  inopportune  moment.  The  witchcraft  delusion \nbroke  out  at  Salem  that  year,  and  two  weeks  after \nSir  William  landed  a  son  of  John  Alden,  the  Plym- \nouth hero,  was  accused  of  witchcraft  and  taken  to \nSalem  for  examination.  It  was  not  at  all  strange \nthat  the  settlers  of  New  England  should  have  brought \nover  to  their  new  home  the  belief  in  witches  that \nhad  been  fully  accepted  in  Europe  for  centuries,  nor \nthat  they  should  have  felt  it  necessary  to  visit  con- \ndign punishment  upon  them,  since  they  read  in  the \nBible,  upon  which  their  commonwealth  was  founded, \n\n\n1 86  THE  king's  governors  begin  to  rule. \n\nthe  command,  \"  Thou  shalt  not  suffer  a  witch  to \nlive.\"  Witches  had  been  executed  by  the  hundred \nin  England  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  First,  and  in \ncomparison  with  that  butchery  the  score  of  execu- \ntions in  Salem  in  1692  counts  as  scarcely  nothing, \nwhile  the  three  poor  sufferers  who  expiated  their \nsupposed  crime  in  Boston  prove  that  the  citizens  of \nthat  town  must  have  been  much  more  merciful  and \nrational  than  their  English  and  other  European \ncontemporaries. \n\nThe  disagreeable  literature  of  this  subject  is  exten- \nsive, and  in  it  we  find  the  names  of  Increase  and \nCotton  Mather  frequently  repeated.  That  they \nshared  the  weakness  of  their  age,  in  company  with \nthe  wisest  and  the  best,  not  only  in  Boston  but  else- \nwhere in  Christendom,  is  no  indication  that  they \nwere  worse  than  other  men,  but  simply  that  they \npossessed  the  failings  of  human  nature.  Sir  Will- \niam Phips  was  also  involved  in  the  persecution  of \nwitches  ;  he  instituted  a  court  for  the  trial  of  such \ncases,  of  which  Samuel  Sewall  was  one  of  the  judges,* \nIt  sat  at  Salem  and  Boston,  but  the  governor  was \nabsent  during  most  of  the  proceedings,  prosecuting \na  campaign  against  the  Indians  and  building  a  fort \nat  Pemaquid.  On  his  return  he  found  to  his  dismay \nthat  his  own  wife  was  an  object  of  suspicion,  and  he \nput  a  stop  at  once  to  the  horrid  proceedings.  The \nfourteenth  of  January,  1697,  was  observed  as  a  day \n\n*  We  have  already  read,  in  Michael  \\Yiggles\\vorth's  verses,  the \npreconceived  notions  which  the  New  Englanders  entertained  regard- \ning the  \"  hellish  fiends  \"  to  be  found  in  the  howling  American  wil- \ndernesses. Perhaps  some  who  at  this  period  read  his  lines  regarded \nhim  as  a  seer. \n\n\nA   PHENOMENAL   FAMILY.  187 \n\nof  general  fasting  and  prayer  throughout  the  prov- \nince, and  \"  the  late  tragedy  was  referred  to  as  having \nbeen  \"  raised  up  by  Satan  and  his  instruments.\"  On \nthat  day  Judge  Sevvall  sent  up  a  \"  bill  \"  in  the  Old \nSouth,  in  which  he  confessed  that  he  had  offended \nin  the  matter  of  the  witchcraft  condemnations,  and \nasked  the  prayers  of  the  congregation  that  the  divine \ndispleasure  \"  might  be  stayed  against  the  country, \nhis  family,  and  himself,\"  and  he  humbly  remained \nstanding  while  the  minister  read  the  paper.  This \nchildlike  man  annually  made  his  mourning,  and  hu- \nmiliated himself  on  this  account  during  the  remainder \nof  his  long  life. \n\nThe  first  royal  governor  was  son  of  a  blacksmith, \nwho,  if  Cotton  Mather's  love  for  the  marvellous  did \nnot  lead  him  to  make  an  extravagant  statement,  had \ntwenty-five  other  children.  He  was  born  in  the \nwoods  of  Maine,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kennebec, \nin  165 1.  His  opportunities  for  education  were  but \nsmall,  for  his  mother,  who  was  left  a  widow  when  he \nwas  a  child,  probably  had  no  easy  task  to  provide \nfor  her  phenomenal  family.  He  naturally  engaged \nin  building  ships  at  first,  but  visions  of  something \nbetter  rose  in  his  mind,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty  he \nwent  to  Boston.  There  he  worked  at  a  trade,  tried \nto  learn  to  read  and  write,  and  married  a  widow \nmuch  his  senior  who  had  some  property,  which  he \nlost  for  her.  At  last  he  found  a  fortune  beneath  the \nocean,  for  he  searched  for  a  Spanish  treasure-ship \nthat  had  gone  to  the  bottom  half  a  century  before, \nfound  it,  and  received  as  his  share  of  the  enterprise \none  hundred  thousand  dollars,  a  knighthood,  and  a \n\n\n1 88    THE   KING'S   GOVERNORS  BEGIN  TO   RULE. \n\ngoblet  valued  at  five  thousand  dollars  for  his  wife. \nAfter  serving  as  high  sherifT  under  Andros,  he  built \na  \"  fair  brick  house,\"  as  he  described  it,  in  Boston, \nand  went  to  England,  where  he'  was  ready  to  be \nselected  to  be  first  governor  when  Mather  was \nasked  to  nominate  a  fit  person.  Sir  William  found  it \ndifificult  to  make  up  for  the  lack  of  early  advantages  ; \nhe  never  could  write  with  ease,  and  spelling  was  an \naccomplishment  that,  in  common  with  many  of  his \nday,  he  either  despised  or  thought  beyond  his  ca- \npacity. He  did  not  become  proud,  either  on  account \nof  riches  or  honors,  and  never  forgot  that  he  had \nbeen  a  ship-carpenter  ;  perhaps  he  wished  sometimes \nthat  he  had  never  been  any  thing  else,  especially \nwhen  he  was  involved  in  strife  with  men  who  under- \nstood far  better  than  he  the  ins  and  outs  of  political \nlife.  He  was  a  communicant  in  the  church  of  the \nMathers,  but  grace  did  not  entirely  overcome  nature \nin  his  case,  and  when  Captain  Short,  of  the  Nonesuch \nfrigate,  crossed  his  path,  he  coolly  knocked  him \ndown  ;  likewise,  when  the  collector  of  customs \noffended  him,  he  gave  him  pugilistic  arguments. \nProbably  the  lieutenant-governor,  William  Stough- \nton,  Avas  in  danger  from  his  brawny  arm,  for  there \nwas  very  \"  warm  discourse  between  them  \"  when \nPhips  rescued  Captain  Dobbins  from  a  sheriff,  and \ntold  the  sheriff  that  if  he  touched  the  captain  he \nshould  himself  be  sent  to  prison.  Sir  William's \nstyle  of  argumentation  did  not  suit  his  Boston  sub- \njects, and  they  sent  complaints  to  London,  which \ncaused  him  to  be  summoned  to  England  in  1694, \nand  thither  he  went  in  November.  He  died  early \nthe  following  year. \n\n\nAN  INDIAN  WAR.  1 89 \n\nWilliam  Stoughton,  who  had  been  chief  of  the \njudges  in  the  court  formed  by  Phips  for  the  trial  of \nwitches,  performed  the  duties  of  governor  after  the \ndeparture  of  Sir  William  until  his  successor,  Richard \nCoote,  Earl  of  Bellomont,  appeared  in  Boston  with \na  commission  from  his  Majesty,  May  26,  1699.  Eng- \nland and  France  were  at  w^ar,  and  the  Indians  on \nthe  American  frontier  were  incited  by  their  French \nneighbors  to  make  bloody  raids  upon  the  unpro- \ntected settlements  of  their  enemies.  The  war  con- \ntinued until  1697,  in  which  year  the  Peace  of  Ryswick \nwas  celebrated  in  Boston  with  an  earnestness  which \nonly  the  relief  from  such  distresses  as  accompany  an \nIndian  war  can  give.  The  struggle  had  lingered  for \nten  years,  and  many  inhabitants  of  Boston  had  been \nkilled  by  the  savages  or  lost  on  the  weary  marches \nthrough  the  woods.  The  Indians  had  escaped \nalmost  with  impunity,  and  it  was  estimated  that \nevery  one  of  them  that  was  killed  cost  the  country \na  thousand  pounds.  For  several  years  a  noted  chief \nfrom  the  Kennebec  region  named  Bomazeen,  who \nhad  incited  many  of  the  enormities  that  his  tribe \nhad  committed,  was  imprisoned  in  Boston  in  a  jail \nthat  Hutchinson  confesses  was  \"  a  very  bad  one.\" \nHe  was  exchanged  in  December,  1698. \n\n\nXV. \n\n\nTHE  GOVERNORS  AND  THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nThe  period  during  which  Boston  was  governed \nby  rulers  of  the  king's  appointment  was  one  of  per- \npetual strife  and  friction,  and  we  find  several  ques- \ntions coming  up  with  constancy,  all  being  connected \nwith  the  paramount  topic,  the  independence  of  the \ncolonists  of  all  interference  from  England.  The \nAmericans  had  opposed  the  change  of  government \nfor  so  long  a  time  and  with  such  persistence  that \nthey  could  not  very  easily  fall  into  the  ways  that  the \nking  and  his  agents  pointed  out  for  them. \n\nThe  colonists  protested  in  the  first  place  against \nthe  appointment  of  rulers  for  them  by  any  authority \nbut  their  own  votes,  and  Boston  was  always  the  most \nactive  in  protesting.  They  naturally  fortified  them- \nselves with  the  pertinent  words  of  Jeremiah — \n\n\"  Their  nobles  shall  be  of  themselves, \nAnd  their  governors  shall  proceed  from  the  midst  of \nthem.\" \n\nThis  privilege  had  been  exercised    from  the  day \nwhen  John  Winthrop  was  first  chosen  to  ofifice,  and \nit  did   not  appear  to  the  colonists  that  any  right  to  - \nchange  the  custom  existed,  nor  that  there  was   any \nneed  for  such  a  departure   from  old   usage.     If  the \n\n190 \n\n\nSUSPICION  AND   CONFLICT.  191 \n\nroyal  governor  were  a  representative  of  the  king,  his \npresence  was  an  impertinence  ;  and  he  certainly  did \nnot  represent  the  Americans,  The  presence  there- \nfore of  such  an  officer  gave  them  a  not  unnatural \nfeeling  that  they  were  looked  upon  as  citizens  of  a \nconquered  province.  This  sensation  was  deepened \nwhen  Massachusetts  lost  its  separate  and  distinct \nexistence,  and  became  but  a  fraction  of  a  satrapy \nthat  stretched  from  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  to \nDelaware  Bay  ;  when  her  governor  was  acting  under \na  roving  commission, — was  at  one  time  attending  to \ntheir  concerns  in  their  own  Town-House,  and  at \nanother  holding  court  at  Hartford  or  New  Amster- \ndam ;  when  the  laws  that  their  representatives \nmade  (sitting  with  deputies  from  Plymouth  colony \nand  appointees  of  the  king)  were  suspended  from \ntheir  full  force  for  three  years,  in  order  that  his \nMajesty  might  have  that  unreasonable  length  of  time \nin  which  to  consider  their  bearing  upon  current \npolitics. \n\nUnder  such  conditions  there  was,  of  necessity,  a \nperpetual  jealousy  and  a  constant  fretting,  for  the \ngovernors  were  sure  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  every \nassertion  of  an  independent  spirit,  and  the  colonists \nwere  equally  alive  to  all  suspected  usurpations  of \nauthority  based  upon  kingly  prerogative.  If  the \ncolony  had  been  begun  with  an  organization  of  this \nsort  there  might  have  been  peace  between  the  par- \nties ;  a  spirit  of  loyalty  might  have  been  developed, \nsuch  as  Virginia  showed,  for  example,  in  its  earlier \nhistory,  but  in  Massachusetts,  where  quite  different \nprinciples  had  obtained  at  the  beginning,  nothing \n\n\n192    THE    GOVERNORS  AND  THE   BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nbut  conflict  was  to  be  anticipated, — and  nothing  but \nconflict  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  rule,  from  the \nabrogation  of  the  charter  until  the  time  when  the \nRevolutionary  war  ensured  to  the  entire  body  of \ncolonists,  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  complete  and \nacknowledged  independence  of  the  mother-country. \nWhen  a  governor  was  sent  to  Boston  from  Eng- \nland an  early  question  presented  itself  in  regard  to \nhis  support,  and  the  people  were  always  quite  cer- \ntain that,  as  he  was  not  their  servant,  he  should  not \nbe  in  their  pay.  They  therefore  usually  declined  to \nvote  a  regular  salary  for  him,  and  there  was  gener- \nally an  unseemly  struggle  on  the  subject.  If,  on  the \nother  hand,  the  king  undertook  to  pay  his  servant, \nthe  unlogical  colonists  protested  that  he  had  no \nright  to  keep  an  oflficer  among  them  in  his  pay  for \nthe  purpose  of  acting  the  spy  over  their  affairs. \nThus,  for  example,  when  Joseph  Dudley  demanded \na  salary,  the  court  speciously  argued  that  \"  the  cir- \ncumstances of  this  province  as  to  our  ability  to  sup- \nport the  government  are  at  times  so  different  that \nwe  fear  the  settling  of  fixed  salaries  will  be  of  no \nservice  to  her  majesty's  interest,\"  and  further,  that, \nas  it  was  the  privilege  and  right  of  English  subjects \nfrom  time  to  time  to  raise  and  appropriate  such \nsums  of  money  as  the  immediate  exigencies  may \nrequire,  they  hoped  that  they  might  continue  to \nenjoy  the  privilege  under  her  most  gracious  Majesty. \nOn  the  other  hand,  when  Thomas  Hutchinson  (in \n1772,  seventy  years  later)  received  a  grant  from  the \ncrown  for  his  salary,  a  committee  of  the  Assembly \nreported  that  it  was  \"  a  dangerous  innovation,  which \n\n\nBOSTON'S  FOREIGN  TRADE.  I93 \n\nrenders  him,  as  a  governor,  not  dependent  on  the \npeople,  as  the  charter  has  prescribed,  and  conse- \nquently not,  in  that  respect,  such  a  governor  as  the \npeople  consented  to  *  at  the  granting  thereof \"  ;  and \nthe  house  most  solemnly  protested  that  the  innova- \ntion was  an  important  change  of  the  constitution, \nwhich  exposed  the  province  to  a  despotic  adminis- \ntration of  government.  It  happened  that  each  of \nthe  governors  thus  opposed  was  a  native  of  the \ncolony,  but  that  fact  made  no  difference  to  the  peo- \nple ;  they  were  just  as  much  on  the  alert  in  watching \nthe  movements  of  the  other  governors,  and  not  a \nwhit  more. \n\nMost  of  the  New  England  provinces  had  no  foreign \ncommerce,  but  received  all  their  imported  goods \nthrough  traders  at  Boston,  who  dealt  directly  with \nLondon,  and  therefore  any  laws  made  by  parliament \nwhich  affected  trade  were  of  the  greatest  interest  to \nBoston,  and  the  merchants  there  were  watchful  of \nall  legislation  in  the  mother-country  on  this  subject. \nWhen,  therefore.  Parliament  secured,  in  165 1,  the \nmonopoly  of  trade  with  the  colonies  to  the  English \nmerchant  by  making  active  a  principle  that  had  been \nestablished  in  the  reign  of  Richard  the  Second,  and \nwhen,  in  1660,  it  avowed  its  design  of  sacrificing  the \nnatural  rights  of  the  colonists  to  home  interests,  rul- \ning that  \"  no  merchandise  shall  be  imported  into \nthe  plantations  but  in  English  vessels,  navigated  by \nEnglishmen,\"  and  thus  excluded  the  merchants  of \n*  Governor  Hutchinson  was  prompt  to  point  out  that  the  charter \nwas  not  of  the  nature  of  a  treaty  between  the  king  and  his  New \nEngland  subjects,  but  was  a  grant  of  defined  privileges  of  the  sover- \neign's good  pleasure. \n\n\n194    THE    GOVERNORS  AND   THE   BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nBoston  from  a  profitable  trade,  it  aroused  indignant \nopposition.  Governor  Bellomont  said,  in  1698,  that \nBoston  had  one  hundred  and  ninety-four  ships  of \ndiiTerent  sizes  engaged  in  its  trade,  and  ventured  to \nassert  that  there  were  more  good  vessels  belonging \nof  her  than  all  Scotland  and  Ireland  owned.  The \ncommerce  increased  so  rapidly  that  the  Board  of \nTrade  reported,  in  17 17,  that  the  trade  of  the  coun- \ntry employed  continually  no  less  than  three  thousand \nfour  hundred  and  ninety-three  sailors,  and  four  hun- \ndred and  ninety-two  ships,  making  twenty-five  thou- \nsand four  hundred  and  six  tons.  These  figures \nwere  derived  from  the  accounts  of  the  naval  ofificers \nof  the  ports  of  Boston  and  Salem.  The  activity  of \nBoston  commerce  had  excited  the  envy  of  the  Eng- \nlish, and  the  measures  in  antagonism  to  it  were \nmade  by  degrees  more  strict. \n\nIn  1663,  a  law  was  enacted  prohibiting  the  col- \nonists from  obtaining  supplies  from  Europe  except \nby  way  of  England  and  in  English  vessels.  Later \nstill  Parliament  took  away  even  the  liberty  of  free \ntraffic  between  the  colonies  themselves  ;  and,  grow- \ning more  grasping  as  time  went  on,  it  was  ordered, \nat  last,  that  America  should  not  even  manufacture \nthose  articles  which  might  possibly  compete  with \nEnglish  goods  in  foreign  markets.  What  England \nwould  not  buy  the  colonists  were  entirely  at  liberty \nto  sell  to  other  nations,  for  otherwise  they  might \nfind  it  difficult  to  pay  their  London  bills.  By  unin- \ntended irony,  for  the  protection  of  Virginia,  the  cul- \ntivation of  tobacco  was  prohibited  in  England  and \nWales,  where  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  have \nbrought  a  crop  to  maturity  ! \n\n\nHATH  NOT  A  AT  AMERICAN  EYES?  1 95 \n\nIf  Parliament  had  paid  attention  to  its  Shakes- \npeare, it  might  have  derived  a  lesson  from  Shylock. \nForsooth,  England  hindered  Boston  of  more  than \nShylock's  \"half  a  million\";  she  laughed  at  her \nlosses,  mocked  at  her  gains,  scorned  her  nation, \nthwarted  her  bargains,  cooled  her  friends,  heated \nher  enemies  ;  \"  and  what  's  her  reason  ?  \"  Boston \nwas  in  far-away  America,  and  was  supposed  to  be \nweak.  Boston  might  well  have  retorted  :  \"  Hath  not \nan  American  eyes?  hath  not  an  American  hands, \norgans,  dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions?  fed \nwith  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons, \nsubject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same \nmeans,  warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and \nsummer,  as  an  Englishman  is?  If  you  prick  us  do \nwe  not  bleed?  if  you  poison  us  do  we  not  die?  and \nif  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not  revenge?  If  we  are \nlike  you  in  the  rest,  we  will  resemble  you  in  that. \nThe  villainy  you  teach  us  we  shall  execute,  and  it \nshall  go  hard  but  we  shall  better  the  instruction  !  \" \n\nThere  were  ten  governors  sent  over  during  the \nperiod  we  are  now  considering.  Let  us  see  how  they \nmanaged  their  uneasy  subjects.  The  time  of  sus- \npense during  which  Stoughton  was  at  the  head  of \naffairs  was  pretty  well  filled  up  by  Indian  strife ;  but \nthere  were  also  fears  of  attacks  upon  Boston  by  some \nfleet  from  France ;  commerce  was  always  in  danger \nfrom  buccaneers  or  pirates  ;  and  there  was  an  epi- \ndemic of  small-pox,  which  carried  off  a  thousand \npersons  in  a  twelvemonth,  a  great  proportion  in  a \ntown  which  counted  but  about  seven  thousand  in- \nhabitants in  all.  There  were  some  one  thousand \nhouses  in  Boston  at  this  time. \n\n\n196      THE  GOVERNORS  AND  THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nCotton  Mather  bewailed  the  increase  of  vice,  the \ngreat  number  of  drinking-houses,  and  the  advent  of \nfortune-tellers,  \"  consulted  by  the  sinful  inhabitants,\" \nand  warned  his  fellow-citizens  that  Port  Royal  in \nJamaica  was  \"  swallowed  up  the  other  day  in  a \nstupendous  earthquake,\"  and  that  just  before  that \ncatastrophe  \"  the  people  were  violently  and  scandal- \nously set  upon  going  to  fortune-tellers  upon  all \noccasions.\"  The  town  was  full  of  widows,  in  con- \nsequence of  the  Indian  butcheries;  and  there  were \nmultitudes  of  helpless  orphans.  Mather  estimated \nthat  one  sixth  of  the  communicants  in  his  church \nwere  widows  and  that  the  proportion  was  not  far \nfrom  that  through  the  town. \n\nPhips  was  followed  by  Richard  Coote,  Earl  of \nBellomont,  who  was  appointed  governor  of  both \nNew  York  and  Massachusetts  in  1697.  He  did  not \nreach  Boston  until  May,  1699,  when  he  was  received \nwith  the  cordiality  that  a  nobleman  of  fine  person, \nelegant  manners,  conciliatory  actions,  and  respectable \nyears  might  have  expected.  He  took  occasion  to \nmake  himself  popular  with  the  religious  portion  of \nBoston  citizens  by  attending  the  Thursday  lecture, \nfor  which  the  court  usually  adjourned,  and  by  pro- \nfessing a  high  esteem  for  the  ministers,  though  he \ndid  not  find  the  precisians  the  most  agreeable \nprivate  company,  nor  the  most  entertaining  intimate \nacquaintances,  much  as  he  professed  to  respect  them \nin  public* \n\n*  In  his  efforts  to  achieve  popularity  Governor  Bellomont  avoided \nall  unnecessary  contests  with  private  persons  or  with  the  representa- \ntives of  the  people,  and  knowing  the  general  detestation  in  which \n\n\n\"YOU  HAVE   LOST  A    PRECIOUS   SERMON.\"  1 97 \n\nHistory  records  the  fact  that  on  returning  from \nlecture  one  day  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  curious \ncitizens,  Bellomont  passed  one  Dr.  BulHvant,  who \ndid  not  attend  the  service  ;  upon  which  he  remarked \nin  an  audible  tone,  probably  .for  the  benefit  of  his \nattendants,  \"  Doctor,  you  have  lost  a  precious  ser- \nmon to-day,\"  in  reply  to  which  the  doctor  said  in  a \nwhisper  to  a  companion,  \"  If  I  could  have  got  as \nmuch  by  being  there  as  his  lordship  will,  I  should \nhave  been  there  too.\"  On  another  occasion  when \nthe  governor  was  dining  in  his  own  house  with  a \nnumber  of  deputies  from  the  country  towns,  he  said \nto  his  wife:  \"We  must  treat  these  gentlemen  well, \nfor  they  give  us  our  bread.\"  The  feeling  towards \nthe  royal  governors  is  shown  by  another  anecdote. \nIt  is  related  that  on  an  occasion  when  a  deputy \nobjected  to  voting  money  to  defray  the  funeral  ex- \npenses of  a  governor's  wife,  he  said  that  if  it  were  for \nthe  purpose  of  burying  the  governor,  he  should  have \nvoted  it  gladly. \n\nLord  Bellomont  was  particularly  directed  to  take \norders  for  the  extirpation  of  piracy  and  the  establish- \nment of  the  authority  of  the  acts  of  trade,  which \nwere  very  little  regarded  in  any  of  the  colonies.     In \n\nthe  Stuart  dynasty  was  held,  he  ventured  to  make  ad  captandttm  re- \nmarks about  the  reigning  sovereign,  whom  he  characterized  as  \"  the \nglorious  instrument  of  our  deliverance  from  the  odious  fetters  and \nchains  of  popery  and  tyranny.\"  He  saw  something  godlike  in  King \nWilliam,  though,  speaking  after  the  familiar  manner  of  the  Puritans, \nhe  added  :  \"  I  would  not  be  misunderstood  so  as  to  be  thought  to \nrob  God  of  the  glory  of  that  stupendous  act  of  his  providence,  in \nbringing  to  pass  the  late  happy  and  wonderful  revolution  in  Eng- \nland. His  blessed  work  it  was,  without  doubt,  and  he  was  pleased \nto  make  King  William  immediately  the  author  and  instrument  of  it.\" \n\n\n198      THE  GOVERNORS  AND  THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nendeavoring  to  destroy  piracy,  he  entered  into  an \nagreement  with  one  William  Kidd,  who  was  to  range \nthe  oceans  capturing  pirates,  and  on  his  return  to \ndivide  the  profits  of  his  expeditions  with  Bellomont \nand  others  who  were  associated  with  him.  Whether \nrightly  or  wrongly,  history  has  recorded  that  Kidd \nturned  pirate  himself,  and  he  was  tried,  and,  in  due \ncourse,  hanged  for  the  crime, — an  offence,  be  it  re- \nmembered, of  which  many  persons  who  would  have \nscorned  not  to  be  rated  as  respectable  in  New  York \nsociety  bad  been  for  a  generation  guilty  without \nhaving  penalties  meted  out  to  them,  and  for  which \nBellom':nt's  predecessor  in  office  in  that  city  had \nissued  formal  commissions. \n\nBellomont  remained  at  his  post  in  Boston  but \nabout  fourteen  months.  By  his  suavity  and  con. \nciliatory  measures  he  led  the  court  to  vote  to  him \n\"  presents  \"  (in  lieu  of  a  salary,  which  they  would \nnot  grant  even  to  him),  amounting  in  the  aggregate \nto  a  larger  sum  than  he  had  expressly  desired  as  a \nformal  stipend.  This  was  far  more  than  any  of  the \nother  royal  governors  was  able  to  accomplish.  He \nfound  it  entirely  impossible  to  cajole  the  \"  Bos- \ntoneers,\"  as  Randolph  had  called  them,  into  any \nhabit  of  dependence  upon  the  crown  ;  nor  could  he \nlead  them  to  give  up  a  single  privilege  that  they \nconsidered  theirs  by  right.  He  went  to  New  York \nin  1700,  and  died  there  in  the  following  March. \n\nStoughton  became  the  chief  executive  upon  the \ndeath  of  Bellomont,  but  he  died  himself  in  the  fol- \nlowing July,  and  then  the  council  carried  out  the \nlaws  until  a  successor  could  be  sent  from  England. \n\n\nPROGNOSTICKS  OF  CALAMITIES.         199 \n\nThe  times  were  thought  to  be  very  bad,  and  In- \ncrease Mather  preached  two  sermons  that  he  entitled \n\"  Ichabod  ;  or,  the  Glory  Departing  from  New  Eng- \nland,\" in  which  he  showed  that  both  church  and \nState  were  fast  declining.  \"  O  New  England  !  New \nEngland  !  \"  he  exclaimed,  \"  look  to  it  that  the  glory \nbe  not  removed  from  thee  !  It  has  come  to  the \nthreshold  of  the  house,  if  not  to  the  East  Gate!\" \n\"  If  the  fountain  should  fail ;  I  mean  the  college, \nwhich  has  been  one  of  the  glories  of  New  England, \nor  (which  is  worse)  become  a  nursery,  not  of  plants  of \nrenown,  but  of  degenerate  plants,  .  .  .  the  glory \nis  like  to  be  gone  from  these  churches  in  less  than \none  generation.\"  On  the  death  of  Stoughton,  Mr. \nWillard  preached  another  sermon,  entitled  :  \"  Prog- \nnosticks  of  Impending  Calamities.\" \n\nLooking  from  the  Puritan  stand-point,  there  ap- \npeared to  be  reason  for  these  forebodings.  The  crops \nhad  been  poor  for  several  years,  the  French  and  In- \ndian wars  had  filled  die  land  with  mourning,  and  be- \nsides there  were  efforts  to  give  a  new,  and  in  the \nopinion  of  the  old  ministers,  a  dangerous,  turn  to \nthe  teachings  of  the  college.  It  was  in  1699  that \nBrattle  Street  Church  was  begun,  and  it  was  one  of \nthe  indications  of  change,  for  it  departed  from  the \n\"  Cambridge  Platform,\"  and  broke  in  upon  the \nOrder  of  the  Churches,  for  which  reasons  it  was \nmade  the  object  of  a  protest  by  the  existing  minis- \nters. The  church  bore  the  name  of  the  \"  Manifesto  \" \nChurch,  among  those  opposed  to  it,  because  it  issued \na  manifesto  defending  its  course.  It  had  for  its  first \nminister,  Beniamin   Colman,  and  he  was  followed  by \n\n\n200      THE  GOVERNORS  AND   THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nWilliam  and  Samuel  Cooper,  Joseph  Stevens  Buck- \nminster,  Edward  Everett,  John  Gorham  Palfrey,  and \nthe  late  Samuel  K.  Lothrop,  all  of  them  eminent  as \nscholars  and  preachers.  In  this  church  the  Psalms \nwere  no  longer  read  and  sung  line  by  line,  as  had \nbeen  the  custom,  a  society  for  practising  music  was \nestablished,  and  singing  by  note  was  first  intro- \nduced.* \n\nThe  choice  of  the  sovereign  for  governor  was \nmade  in  1702,  and  Joseph  Dudley,  who  had  been  in \nEngland  since  he  was  sent  there  with  Andros,  some \nten  years  previously,  was  appointed.  He  had  often \nexpressed  a  desire  to  lay  his  bones  in  America,  and \nhad  long  been  an  active  aspirant  for  the  ofifice  that \nhe  now  obtained.  Colman  was  a  friend  of  the  new \ngovernor,  but  the  Mathers  were  his  bitter  opponents. \nDudley  was  determined  to  rule  the  colony  with  a \nfirm  hand,  and,  remembering  his  former  experience, \nhe  immediately  objected  to  every  member  of  the  ex- \nisting council  who  had  taken  part  in  his  condemna- \ntion, and  also  entered  upon  the  usual  struggle  for \nsalary.  The  court  offered  him  less  than  one  half  the \nsum  that  had  been  given  Bellomont  (as  a  present,  of \n\n*  Instrumental  music  was  apparently  not  relished  or  not  approved, \nespecially  in  churches  ;  and  at  about  the  time  of  the  Restoration  of \nthe  Stuarts,  we  find  an  uncle  writing  to  a  student  in  Harvard  College, \nin  regard  to  his  studies  :  \"  Music  I  had  almost  forgotten.  I  suspect \nyou  seek  it  both  too  soon  and  too  much.  This  be  assured  of,  that  if \nyou  be  not  excellent  in  it,  it  is  nothing  at  all  ;  and  if  you  be  excellent, \nit  will  take  up  so  much  of  your  time  and  mind  that  you  will  be  worth \nlittle  else  ;  and  when  all  that  excellence  is  attained,  your  acquest  will \nprove  little  or  nothing  of  real  profit  to  you,  unless  you  intend  to  take \nup  the  trade  of  fiddling.\"  See  Palfrey's  \"  New  England,\"  ii.,  67  ; \niii.,  134. \n\n\nVIRULENT  LETTERS  AGAINST  DUDLEY.      20I \n\ncourse),  and  he  refused  it  until  he  was  advised  to \ntake  it  rather  than  nothing.* \n\nThe  war  known  as  Queen  Anne's  began  in  1702, \nand  did  not  close  until  the  peace  of  Utrecht  in  171 3. \nDuring  that  period  New  England  was  again  devas- \ntated by  the  savages,  and  the  French,  and  armed \nbands  were  sent  out  from  Boston  by  sea  and  land  to \nattack  and  to  repulse  the  enemies.  Bounties  were \noffered  for  Indian  scalps,  as  high  as  forty  pounds, \nin  one  case  at  least,  and  the  men  of  the  colony  were \ndebased  by  this  new  incentive  to  blood-shedding. \nIn  the  midst  of  this  war  a  vessel  was  sent  to  Nova \nScotia  with  a  flag  of  truce,  the  owner  of  which \nremained  absent  a  long  time,  and  on  his  return  he \nwas  accused  of  having  engaged  in  trade  with  the \nenemy.  A  number  of  persons  were  thought  to  have \nbeen  implicated  in  the  venture,  and,  after  a  trial  by_ \nthe  court,  several  of  the  persons  were  heavily  fined. \nDudley  was  accused  of  conniving  in  the  crime,  if  not \nof  sharing  its  profits,  and  a  bitter  petition  was  sent \nto  the  queen  asking  for  his  punishment. \n\nIt  was  at  about  this  time  that  the  Mathers  burst \nout  with  their  virulent  letters  against  Dudley.  They \ncharged  him  with  most  of  the  political  crimes  that \na  statesman  can  be  guilty  of,  among  which  were \nbad  faith,  cruelty,  corruption,  bribery,  and  hypocrisy. \nThree  days  after  these  letters  were  written,  as  Judge \nSewall  was  returning  from  the  funeral  of  Mrs.  Anne \nNeedham    (Jan.    23,    1708),    in    company    with    the \n\n*  In  170S,  about  the  first  of  July,  the  deputies  voted  a  present  to \nthe  governor  of  two  hundred  pounds,  and  two  hundred  and  twenty- \nfive  to  the  treasurer,  \"  at  which  the  governor  was  very  angry,  and  said \nhe  would  pass  none  of  them  [the  votes],  they  would  starve  together.\" \n\n\n202      THE  GOVERNORS  AND  THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nyounger  Mather,  engaged  in  very  devout  conversa- \ntion, they  turned  aside  to  go  to  Madam  Usher's, \nwhere  Mather  showed  the  Judge  a  copy  of  his  letter, \nand  Sewall  expressed  much  interest  to  learn  what \nthe  result  of  such  plain-dealing  would  be. \n\nThese  matters  seem  to  have  been  fought  out  at \nfunerals,  and  in  prayers  and  sermons.     We  are  told \nthat  Mr.  Colman  shortly  after  \"  lashed  \"  the  Mathers \nin    a    sermon,    for    what    they    had    \"  written,    and \npreached,  and  prayed  about  the  present  contest  with \nthe  governor.\"     On  January  25th,  Mr.  Mather  made \na  prayer  about  certain  faithful  ones,  in  which  Judge \nSewall  thought  that  he  intended  to  animadvert  upon \nhis  own  vote  against  the  virulent  petition  sent  to \nEngland   for  the   governor's   removal ;    and   on  the \n26th    of    May    Mr.   John    Norton,    minister    of    the \nchurch  at  Hingham  (nephew  of  the  former  minister \n'of  the  First  Church  in  Boston),  took  up  the  matter \nand   preached   a  \"  flattering  sermon  as  to  the  gov- \nernor.\"   The  newspaper  in  Boston  *  in  those  good  old \ndays  seems  not  to  have  been  familiar  enough  to  be \nused  for  such  personal  matters  as  these.    Mr.  Norton \nwas  formally  thanked  by  the  court  for  his  discourse, \nand  a  copy  of  it  was  desired  for  publication.     Mr. \nSewall  was  in  close  quarters  at  this  time,  for  his  son \nhad  married  a  daughter  of  Governor  Dudley. \n\n*  The  first  American  newspaper,  Publick  Occiirretucs,  appeared  in \nBoston,  September  25, 1690,  but  its  editor,  Benjamin  Harris,  a  \"  brisk \nasserter  of  English  Liberties,\"  possessing  too  great  a  share  of  colonial \nindependence,  uttered  \"  reflections  of  a  very  high  nature,\"  and  the \nauthorities  stopped  his  venture  at  its  first  number.  The  Boston \nNews-Letler,  which  followed,  April  4,  1704,  was  for  fifteen  years  the \nonly  newspaper  in  America. — Hudson,  \"  Journalism  in  the  United \nStates,\"  ch.  i. \n\n\n4^, \n\n\n\\    ^ \n\n\nINTERIOR    OF    CHRIST   CHURCH   AT   PRESENT   (bUILT    1 723). \n\n\n203 \n\n\n204      THE  GOVERNORS  AND  THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nJudge  Sewall  relates  an  amusing  occurrence  of \nthis  sort  that  happened  in  1710.  It  seems  that  the \njudge  had  failed  to  invite  the  testy  pastor  of  the \nSouth  Church,  the  Reverend  Ebenezer  Pemberton, \nwho  was  some  twenty  years  his  junior,  to  court  on \na  certain  November  day  in  that  year.  Mr.  Pember- \nton resented  the  omission  as  an  injury,  \"  with  extra- \nordinary vehemency  \"  and  passion,  \"  capering  with \nhis  feet,\"  the  judge  relates.  Sewall  replied  that  his \n''  carriage  was  neither  becoming  a  scholar  nor  min- \nister,\" and  he  tells  the  readers  of  his  Diary  that  he \nwas  surprised  to  see  himself  insulted  with  such  ex- \ntraordinary fierceness  by  his  pastor.  He  was  destined \nto  be  surprised  again,  for  at  the  afternoon  service  at \nthe  South  Church  on  the  following  Sunday,  Mr. \nPemberton  asked  the  congregation  to  sing  the  first \nfive  verses  of  the  fifty-eighth  Psalm,  and  when  the \njudge  turned  to  the  place  he  saw  that  that  particular \nPsalm  was  directed  against  unjust  judges,  that  it \ndescribed  their  inveterate  wickedness,  and  prayed  for \ntheir  speedy  punishment.    As  the  congregation  sang : \n\n\"  Speak,  O  ye  judges  of  the  earth \nif  just  your  sentence  be  : \nOr  must  not  innocence  appeal \nto  heaven  from  your  decree  ? \n\n\"  Your  wicked  hearts  and  judgments  are \nalike  by  malice  swayed  ; \nYour  griping  hands,  by  weighty  bribes, \nto  violence  betrayed. \n\n\"  No  serpent  of  parched  Afric's  breed \ndoth  ranker  poison  bear  ; \nThe- drowsy  adder  will  as  soon \nunlock  his  sullen  ear. \n\n\nODD    TEXTS  FOR   SERMONS.  20$ \n\nUnmoved  by  good  advice,  and  deaf \n\nas  adders  they  remain  ; \nFrom  whom  the  skilful  charmer's  voice \n\ncan  no  attention  gain.\" \n\nIt  is  not  surprising  that   Sewall  wrote  of  this  act  : \n\n\"  I  think  if  I  had  been  in  his  place,  and  had  been \nkindly  and  tenderly  affectioned,  I  should  not  have  done \nit  at  this  time.  Another  Psalm  might  have  suited  his \nsubject  as  well  as  the  fifth  verse  of  this.  'T  is  certain \none  may  make  libels  of  David's  Psalms  ;  and  if  a  person \nbe  abused,  there  is  no  remedy.  I  desire  to  leave  it  to \nGod,  who  can  and  will  judge  righteously.\" \n\nIn  1 714,  Boston  received  the  news  that  Queen  Anne \nhad  died,  and  that  a  new  dynasty  was  upon  the  British \nthrone.  George  the  First  became  king  August  ist \nof  that  year,  but  the  news  did  not  reach  this  side  of \nthe  ocean  until  September  15th.  Dudley  occupied \nhis  ofifice,  with  a  brief  intermission,  until  November \n9,  1715,  when  he  retired  from  public  office  to  his \nestate  at  West  Roxbury,  where  he  died  in  1720.  On \nthe  occasion  of  his  death  laudatory  notices  were \nprinted,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Colman,  of  the  Manifesto \nChurch,  preached  from  a  pulpit  hung  with  black, \nfrom  the  text,  selected  by  Dudley,  \"  By  faith,  Joseph, \nwhen  he  died.\"  The  clergy  set  the  fashion  of  this \naffected  use  of  Scripture.  When  Sewall's  second \nwife  died  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  the  night, \nThomas  Prince,  of  the  South  Church,  preached  from \nthe  words  :  \"  At  midnight,  behold  a  cry  was  made  \"  ; \nand  when  the  judge  himself  died  the  same  minister \nbased  his  funeral  discourse  upon  the  words  in  I.  Sam- \n\n\n206      THE  GOVERNORS  AND  THE  BOSTON  PEOPLE. \n\nuel  vii.,  15  :  \"And  Samuel  judged  Israel  all  the  days \nof  his  life.\"  This  custom  was  long  continued.  The \nfather  of  Mrs.  John  Adams,  the  Rev.  William  Smith, \nof  Weymouth,  is  said  to  have  preached  in  reference  to \nher  marriage  in  1794,  from  Luke  vii.,  33:  \"John  came \nneither  eating  bread  nor  drinking  wine,  and  ye  say, \n'  He  hath  a  devil.'  \"  John  Adams  was  a  lawyer,  and \nthere  had  been  an  ancient  prejudice  against  his  call- \ning, which  was  thought  hardly  honest.  Mr.  Smith's \neldest  daughter  had  married  Richard  Cranch,  on \nwhich  occasion  he  is  reported  to  have  preached  from \nLuke  X.,  42,  \"  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part, \nwhich  shall  not  be  taken  away  from   her.\" \n\nThe  colony  was  not  in  a  prosperous  condition \nbetween  1675,  when  the  war  with  Philip  began,  and \n171 3,  when  the  struggle  called  Queen  Anne's  war \nclosed.  Five  or  six  thousand  of  the  best  young  men \nof  the  country  had  lost  their  lives,  either  in  actual \nservice  or  by  disease  contracted  in  it.  This  had \nretarded  the  growth  of  population,  and  the  wars \nthemselves  had  directly  increased  taxation,  and  this \nsent  many  persons  to  other  colonies,  thus  adding  to \nthe  burdens  of  those  who  were  left.  The  strife  of \nwar  had  quieted  party  disputes  during  the  last  few \nyears  of  Dudley's  official  life,  but  it  cannot  be  said \nthat  the  experiment  of  governing  Boston  and  the \ncolony  by  rulers  of  the  king's  choosing  had  been \nremarkably  successful  thus  far. \n\n\nXVI. \n\n\nSTRAINED    RELATIONS. \n\n\nCommunities,  like  private  persons,  are  often  free \nto  overlook  matters  in  their  times  of  prosperity  that \nwould  be  considered  very  annoying  in  periods  of \npenury  or  pain.  The  same  contrast  exists  between \ntimes  when  the  mind  is  occupied  by  the  effort  to \naccomplish  a  much  desired  purpose,  and  the  season \nafter  the  design  has  been  effected.  It  Avas  not  sur- \nprising that  while  the  New  England  communities \nwere  occupied  in  war  with  the  Indians  they  allowed \ntheir  party  strifes  to  lapse,  nor  that  at  those  periods \nthey  had  no  wish  to  engage  with  the  governor  in \nquarrels  about  his  salary.  During  the  war  that  was \nclosed  by  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  public  expenses, \nwhich  were  of  course  heavy,  had  been  defrayed  by \nissuing  bills  of  credit  ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  struggle \nit  was  found  that  gold  and  silver  had  been  banished \nfrom  circulation,  that  exchange  had  risen,  and  that \nprices  of  commodities  had  followed  it.  There  was \nfinancial  distress,  and  various  suggestions  were  made \nby  those  who  wished  to  alleviate  it. \n\nThe  first  party  thought  best  to  draw  in  all  paper \ncurrency,  and  return  to  the  use  of  gold  and  silver  ;  a \nsecond,  and  very  numerous  one,  was  in  favor  of  the \n\n207 \n\n\n208  STRAINED  RELA  TIONS. \n\nestablishment  of  a  private  bank,  which  should  issue \nnotes  to  be  received  as  money;  and  the  third  party \nwished  to  arrange  for  loans  from  the  government  to \nsuch  citizens  as  would  mortgage  their  estates  for  the \npurpose  of  providing  security  for  principal  and  inter- \nest. The  hard-money  scheme  had  but  few  support- \ners, and  the  colony  was  divided  between  the  two \nother  plans  ;  but  as  Boston  favored  the  public  loans, \nthat  method  of  relief  was  adopted,  after  a  long \nstruggle,  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  in  bills  of  credit \nwere  placed  in  the  hands  of  trustees  to  be  loaned  to \nany  of  the  inhabitants  at  five  per  cent,  interest  for \nfive  years. \n\nThe  choice  of  the  sovereign  for  governor  at  this \njuncture  fell  upon  Colonel  Samuel  Shute,  whose \nbrother,  afterwards  Lord  Barrington,  was  leader  of \nthe  dissenting  interest  in  Parliament.  The  family \nof  Shute  were  generall}^  dissenters,  and  he  himself \nsustained  a  good  character  as  a  friend  of  liberty,  but \nnot  long  after  his  arrival  in  Boston  he  professed  that \nhe  was  a  member  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  he \nwas  certainly  very  positive  in  efforts  to  bring  the \nBostoneers  into  a  state  of  proper  dependence  upon  the \ncrown.  He  sustained  the  king's  prerogative,  and \nw^as  determined  to  repress  every  token  of  popular \ngovernment.  Such  a  governor  was  destined  to  be \nin  continual  conflict  with  the  inhabitants,  except  in \nmeasures  against  the  still  troublesome  savages. \n\nThe  policy  of  controlling  trade  in  such  a  manner \nas  to  militate  against  the  interests  of  America,  which \nhad  so  long  been  popular  in  England,  was  now \nmaintained  with  oppressive  force.     The  \"  Board  of \n\n\nTROUBLE   ABOUT  MONEY  AND    TRADE.      209 \n\nTrade  \"  was  a  department  of  government  which \nseems  to  have  been  developed  from  an  arrangement \nmade  by  Cromwell  in  1655,  who  then  directed  his \nson  Richard,  and  others,  to  meet  and  consider  means \nto  promote  the  national  commerce.  In  1660,  Charles \nthe  Second  erected  two  councils  of  Trade  and  Plan- \ntations, which  were  soon  made  one,  and  that,  after \nvarious  fortunes,  was  given  a  new  life  in  1695.  John \nLocke,  one  of  its  wisest  and  most  influential  members, \nadvised  the  appointment  of  a  dictator  to  control  the \ncolonies;  and  in  1701  the  entire  board  urged  the \nabrogation  of  all  the  charters  and  the  establishment \nof  such  a  government  as  should  make  the  colonists \nduly  subservient  to  England.  Though  this  policy \nwas  not  determined  upon  in  form,  it  was  the  con- \nstant aim  of  the  governors  to  bring  about  such  a \ndependence  as  it  proposed.  The  Board  of  Trade* \nasserted,  in  1728,  that  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  did \nnot  make  suitable  returns  to  his  majesty  for  the  ex- \ntraordinary privileges  they  enjoyed,  and  were  \"  daily \nendeavoring  to  wrest  the  small  remains  of  power  out \nof  the  hands  of  the  Crown,  and  to  become  indepen- \ndent of  the  mother  kingdom.\" \n\nGovernor  Shute  joined  the  opponents  of  the \nbanking  scheme,  and  while  he  was  incompetent \nto  devise  any  plan  to  give  effectual  financial  relief, \nhe  permitted  another  emission  of  bills  of  one  hun- \ndred thousand  pounds  to  run  ten  years,  which  merely \n\n*  Hutchinson  says  that  Col.  Martin  Bladen,  for  many  years  one \nof  the  Board  of  Trade,  often  expressed  to  the  colonial  agents  and \nothers  his  apprehension  that  the  Bostoneers  intended  to  \"set  up  for \nthemselves.\" \n\n\n2 1 0  S  TRA I  NED  RELA  TIONS. \n\nadded  to  the  difficulties.  He  took  sides  with  the \nroyal  surveyor  of  the  forests  of  Maine,  who  claimed \ncertain  white-pine  trees  for  the  king's  navy,  and \ncaused  the  formation  of  parties  which  continued  to \ngive  him  trouble  as  long  as  he  remained  in  Boston. \nOn  his  arrival  in  America  he  gave  consent  to  the \nlevying  of  an  impost  duty  upon  goods  from  the \nWest  Indies  and  England  brought  to  New  England. \nThis  was  considered  to  conflict  with  the  interests  of \nEnglish  traders,  and  notice  was  received  from  Lon- \ndon  that  the  action  must  be  reversed.  This  the \ncourt  declined  to  do,  and  a  long  conflict  followed. \n\nThe  people  were,  as  usual,  ill-disposed  in  the  mat- \nter of  salary,  and  refused  to  make  this  governor  the \ncustomary  \"  present,\"  reducing  the  sum  offered \nuntil,  in  the  depreciated  currenc}%  it  amounted  to \nbut  three  hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  The  governor \nattempted  to  take  from  the  house  of  deputies  the \nprivilege  of  choosing  its  own  speaker,  and  this  still \nfurther  aroused  their  jealousies.  The  strife  on  this \npoint  was  long  and  bitter.  In  the  midst  of  it  the \nhouse  attempted  to  retaliate  by  taking  into  its  own \nhands  the  appointment  of  the  annual  fast ;  and,  in \nconsequence  of  the  prevalence  of  the  small-pox  in \nBoston,  it  ventured  to  assert  itself  by  adjourning  to \nCambridge,  which  brought  about  another  contro- \nversy. The  resentment  of  the  house  was  finally \nextended  to  the  governor's  friends,  and  at  last \nShute  left  for  England  somewhat  abruptly  at  the \nbeginning  of  the  year  1723,  for  the  purpose  of  laying \nhis  grievances  before  the  king. \n\nThe   year    1 72 1    was    notable    for  the  scourge  of \n\n\nTHE   SMALL-POX  SCOURGE.  211 \n\nsmall-pox,  which  has  been  mentioned.  It  attacked \nsome  six  thousand  persons,  of  whom  one  thousand \ndied.  Inoculation  had  just  been  introduced  in  Eng- \nland by  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montague,  who  began, \nin  the  face  of  intense  opposition,  by  practising  upon \nher  little  daughter,  afterwards  Lady  Bute;  and  now \nDr.  Zabdiel  Boylston  did  the  same  thing  in  Boston, \nin  Uie  face  of  similar  opposition,  which  caused  him \nmuch  suffering  in  business  and  repute.  Dr.  Boylston \nlikewise  submitted  one  of  his  own  children  to  the \nordeal.  The  selectmen  investigated  the  matter  and \npronounced  against  it ;  it  was  thought  little  better \nthan  murder,  but  Cotton  Mather  came  out  in  its \nfavor,  and  gave  his  powerful  encouragement  to  Dr. \nBoylston.  Mather  invited  the  physicians  to  meet \nand  consult  about  undertaking  inoculation,  in  order, \nhe  said,  \"  that  whoever  first  begins  this  practice  may \nhave  the  concurrence  of  his  worthy  brethren  to \nfortify  him.\"  The  conservative  physicians  did  not \naccept  the  invitation,  but  Dr.  Boylston  was  not  de- \nterred ;  he  inoculated  two  hundred  and  eighty-six \npersons,  of  whom  but  six  died,  and  it  was  shown \nthat  the  recovery  of  those  who  died  would  have \nbeen  little  short  of  a  miracle.  Of  five  thousand \nseven  hundred  and  fifty-nine  who  were  not  inocu- \nlated eight  hundred  and  forty-four  died. \n\nThis  scourge  was  a  serious  detriment  to  the \nprogress  of  the  town  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the  in- \nfliction (in  spite  of  the  ill-success  of  the  second \nnewspaper,  the  News-Letter),  James  Franklin,  brother \nof  the  more  celebrated  Benjamin,  began  the  third \npaper  in  Boston.     The  Franklins  had  no  reverence \n\n\n212  STRAINED  RELATIONS. \n\nfor  the  Mathers,  being  more  influenced  probably  by \nthe  puerile  pomposity  and  vanity  of  Cotton  Mather, \nfor  example,  than  by  his  piety  and  learning.  The \nvenerable  Increase,  then  eighty-four  years  of  age, \ndiscerned  \"the  inspiration  of  the  devil  \"  in  the  third \nnumber  of  the  Courant,  in  consequence  of  which  he \ndenounced  it  in  the  columns  of  the  Neivs-Letter. \nHe  said  that  though  it  had  been  reported  that  he \nwas  one  of  the  supporters  of  the  Courant,  he  was,  on \nthe  contrary,  \"  extremely  offended  with  it,\"  because \nin  one  of  its  numbers  it  insinuated  \"that  if  the  min- \nisters of  God  approve  of  a  thing,  it  is  a  sign  it  is  of \nthe  devil ;  which  is  a  horrid  thing  to  be  related.\" \n\"  I,  that  have  known  what  New  England  was  from \nthe  beginning,\"  he  continued,  \"cannot  but  be \ntroubled  to  see  the  degeneracy  of  this  place.  I  can \nwell  remember  when  the  civil  government  would \nhave  taken  an  effectual  course  to  suppress  such  a \ncursed  libel,  which  if  it  be  not  done,  I  am  afraid  that \nsome  awful  judgment  will  come  upon  this  land,  and \nthe  wrath  of  God  will  arise  and  there  will  be  no \nremedy.  I  cannot  but  pity  poor  Franklin.\"  The \ncourt  did  take  the  matter  in  hand,  and  the  publisher \nwas  obliged  to  give  bonds  not  to  print  any  thing \nthat  had  not  passed  an  appointed  censor. \n\nGovernor  Shute  did  not  return  to  Boston,  and  for \nseveral  years  the  lieutenant-governor,  William  Dum- \nmer,  occupied  the  post.  He  was  largely  employed \nby  the  ever-active  Indians  to  the  eastward.  Being \na  native,  it  might  have  been  expected  that  he  would \naccomplish  something  towards  mediating  between \nthe  crown  and  the  colonists,  but  he  did  not  affect \n\n\nONE   OF  SEWALVS   PICTURES.  213 \n\nany  thing  in  that  direction.  During  the  time  that \nhe  was  performing  the  duties  of  chief  executive,  the \nefforts  of  Shute  resulted  in  the  granting  of  an \n\"  Explanatory  Charter\"  (in  1725),  which  ensured  to \nthe  governor  a  veto  power  upon  the  nomination  for \nopeaker  of  the  house,  and  took  from  that  body  the \nright  of  adjourning  for  longer  periods  than  two  days  ; \nbut  left  the  vexed  subject  of  salary  open,  to  remain \na  matter  of  constant  dispute. \n\nDuring  this  interval,  also,  both  Increase  and  Cot- \nton Mather  died,  the  one  in  1723,  and  the  other  five \nyears  later,  and  with  them  closed  the  paramount \ninfluence  of  the  dynasty  upon  the  affairs  of  the  town \nand  the  colony.  The  father  had  preached  sixty-six \nyears,  and  had  presided  over  Harvard  College  for \ntwenty;  the  son  was  in  the  pulpit  forty-seven  years, \nand  was  one  of  the  overseers  of  the  college.  In  spite \nof  his  lack  of  ordinary  judgment  and  his  great \ncredulity,  he  must  be  acknowledged  to  have  been  a \nperson  of  merit,  and  his  ability  to  acquire  all  sorts  of  re- \ncondite information  has,  perhaps,  never  been  equalled \nin  America.  Six  of  the  first  ministers  of  Boston  bore \nCotton  Mather  to  the  tomb,  and  the  body  was  fol- \nlowed by  alLthe  principal  officials,  ministers,  scholars, \nand  men  of  affairs,  while  the  streets  were  thronged \nand  the  \"  windows  were  filled  with  sorrowful  specta- \ntors all  the  way  to  the  burying-place,\"  which  was  on \nCopp's  Hill. \n\nJudge  Sewall  lets  us  into  many  an  intimate  view \nof  character  in  the  days  of  the  Mathers,  and  some  of \nhis  pictures  are  by  no  means  adapted  to  hold  up  the \ngood  old  times  to  our  admiration.     In  many  particu- \n\n\n214  STRAINED  RELATIONS. \n\nlars  the  men  of  those  days  acted  in  a  way  that  would \nbe  thought  quite  unworthy  of  persons  in  the  same \nstations  now,  and  the  way  in  which  they  used  lan- \nguage, especially  opprobrious  language,  is  astonishing \nto  those  not  familiar  with  the  vigor  of  some  of  the \ncontemporary  worthies  in  the  mother-country.  There \nwas  in  those  days  a  bookseller  named  Richard  VVil- \nkins,  whose  shop  was  a  favorite  resort,  and  we  are \ntold  that  one  day  Mr.  Cotton  Mather  went  there  and \ntalked  very  sharply  against  Sewall,  who  was  then \ncaptain  of  the  \"  Ancient  and  Honorable  '\"  Artillery \nCompany.  He  said  that  Sewall  had  used  his  father. \nIncrease,  worse  than  a  nigger  ;  and  he  spoke  so  loud \nthat  he  was  audible  in  the  street.*  The  humble  and \nguileless  captain  says  that  he  had  read  that  morning \nMr.  Dod's  saying  \"  Sanctified  afflictions  are  good \npromotions,\"  which  he  now  found  was  a  cordial ; \nbut  he  thought  it  well  to  expostulate  with  Mr. \nMather  a  little  in  the  same  shop  two  days  later, \n\"from  I.  Timothy  v.,  i,\"  in  company  with  witnesses. \nMather  said  he  had  considered  the  passage  men- \ntioned ;  whereupon  Sewall  turned  upon  him  his  own \nbook  upon  the  \"Law  of  Kindness  for  the  Tongue,\" \nand  asked  whether  Mather  considered  that  his  acts \ncorresponded  with  his  precepts,  and  whether  they \ncorresponded  with  Christ's  rule.  Mather  only  justi- \nfied his  \"  reviling  me  behind  my  back,\"  says  Sewall, \n\n*  When  Cotton  Mather  was  excited  in  debate  he  found,  as  he  said \nto  Governor  Dudley,  in  170S,  with  his  usual  pompous  verbiage,  that \n\"  the  schemes  of  speaking  and  modes  of  addressing  used  among  per- \nsons of  the  most  polite  education  \"  did  not  prove  equal  to  the  demands \nmade  upon  them.  He,  therefore,  adopted  the  \"  schemes  of  speaking\" \nused  among  less  polished  persons,  as  in  the  present  instance. \n\n\nJO  ST  AH  WILLARD    CUTS  HIS  HAIR.  21  5 \n\nand  charged  the  council  with  \"  lying,  hypocrisy, \ntricks,  and  I  know  not  what  all.\"  Sewall  asked  if \nthis  were  done  with  meekness  ;  and  Mather  replied, \nconfidently,  \"  Yes  !  \"  retorting  a  speech  made  by \nSewall  in  the  council,  to  the  effect  that  if  Mather \nshould  go  to  Cambridge,  his  example  would  do  more \nhurt  than  his  going  would  do  good.  Sewall  owned \nhis  words,  and  asked  if  Mather  would  like  to  have \nhim  exclaim  against  him  in  the  street,  if  he  supposed \nhim  to  have  done  amiss  as  a  church  officer,  and \nadded,  very  appropriately,  it  seems  to  us,  that  he \nconceived  that  Mather  had  done  much  that  was  un- \nbecoming a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  The  discussion' \nbecame  so  loud  and  unseemly  that  Wilkins  was  fain \nto  have  Mather  go  into  a  private  room  ;  but  Mather \nwould  not,  and  soon  Sewall  was  called  to  a  meeting \nof  the  council,  where,  he  says,  we  \"  hammered  out \nan  order  for  a  Day  of  Thanksgiving.\"  The  next \nday  Mr.  Increase  Mather  went  to  the  shop,  and  de- \nclared that,  as  he  was  a  servant  of  Jesus  Christ, \n\"  some  great  judgment  would  fall  on  Captain  Sewall \nor  his  family.\"  Two  days  later  still,  Sewall  gave \na  copy  of  his  speech  in  council  to  Wilkins,  to  show, \nin  order  that  all  might  see  the  grounds  of  Mr. \nMather's  anger. \n\nWhile  we  are  with  this  unreserved  diarist,  let  us \nsee  something  of  the  customs  of  the  time,  as  he \nexhibits  them  in  his  bland  and  childlike  style.  One \nJune  day  in  the  year  1701,  Sewall  heard  that  Josiah \nWillard,  son  of  the  minister  of  the  Old  South  Church, \nhad  cut  off  his  hair,  and  put  on  a  wig, — and  he  had \na  full  head  of  hair, — so  he  felt  it   his  duty  to  call \n\n\n2 1 6  S  TRA  IN  ED  RE  LA  TtONS. \n\nupon  the  young  gentleman.  He  found  his  mother, \nand  announced  his  errand,  upon  which  Josiah  was \nsent  for.  Sewall  began  the  conversation  by  enquiring \nwhat  \"  extremity  had  forced  him  to  put  off  his  nat- \nural hair,\"  and  Josiah  was  obliged  to  reply  that \nthere  was  none  at  all  ;  but  said  that  his  hair  was \nstraight  and  parted  behind,  and  seemed  to  argue \nthat  men  might  as  well  shave  their  heads  as  their \nfaces.  Sewall  responded  that  half  of  mankind  never \nhave  any  hair  on  the  face,  which  was  an  unexpected \nadmission  that  women  belonged  to  \"  mankind.\"  He \ncontinued  to  the  effect  that  God  seems  to  have \n*given  men  hair  as  a  test,  to  see  if  they  would  be \ncontent  to  remain  as  he  made  them,  or  whether  they \nwould  be  their  own  \"  carvers  and  lords.\"  He  said \nthat  such  conduct  as  this  of  Willard's  would  be  dis- \npleasing to  good  men,  and  \"  they  that  care  not  what \nmen  think  of  them,  care  not  what  God  thinks  of \nthem.\"  Sewall  was  prepared  for  this  interview,  for \nhe  had  that  morning  read  the  \"  tenth  chapter  of  the \nthird  book  of  Calvin's  Institutions,\"  \"  in  course,\" \n{Comment  il  faiit  user  de  la  vie  prhent  et  ses  aides) \nand  he  commended  the  same  to  Willard.  He  told \nhim  that  such  cutting  of  the  hair  was  condemned  at \na  meeting  of  ministers  at  Mr.  Stoddard's  house  in \nNorthampton,  \"  when  the  said  Josiah  was  there,\" \nupon  which  the  young  man  wavered,  ''  and  seemed \nto  say  that  he  would  leave  off  his  wig  when  his  hair \nwas  grown.\"  Willard's  father  afterwards  thanked \nSewall  for  this  plain-dealing,  and  promised  that  when \nthe  son's  hair  was  long  enough  to  cover  his  ears,  the \nwig  should  be  put  off ;  that  the  cutting  should  never \n\n\nSEW  ALL   DRLNKS  TO   MATHER.  21/ \n\nhave  been  accomplished  had  he  known  it ;  and  that \nMrs.  Willard  heard  her  son  talk  of  doing  it,  but  seemed \nto  fear  to  forbid  it,  lest  the  son  should  do  it  in  spite \nof  her,  and  \"  so  be  more  faulty.\" \n\nIn  June,  1701,  the  aged  lieutenant-governor \nwished  to  go  to  commencement  at  Cambridge,  his \nspecial  desire  being  to  make  a  present  of  a  \"grace \ncup  to  the  corporation.\"  He  proved  too  feeble  to \ngo,  and  Sewall  made  the  presentation  in  a  vein  of \nsolemn  pleasantry.  After  the  dinner,  Sewall  took \nthe  cup,  had  it  filled  up,  and  drank  to  the  President \n(Increase  Mather),  saying  that  by  reason  of  the  ab- \nsence of  \"him  who  was  the  firmament  and  ornament \nof  the  province  and  of  that  society,\"  he  presented \nthe  Grace  Cup,  adding,  \"  The  providence  of  our \nSovereign  Lord  is  very  investigable  in  that  our \nGrace  Cups,  brim-full,  are  passing  round,  when  our \nbrethren  in  France  *  are  petitioning  for  their  coup \nde  grace y  It  was  not  only  on  such  occasions  as  this \nthat  Mr.  Sewall  and  those  of  his  strictly  religious \nviews  partook  of  the  brimming  cup  ;  they  appreci- \nated highly  the  virtues  of  \"  canary  wine  \"  and  good \nbeer,  and  we  find  that  it  was  a  not  infrequent  custom \nto  step  into  a  place  where  such  creature  comforts \nwere  legally  supplied,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining \nthem  and  of  using  them  \"  on  the  premises.\" \n\nThey  were  exceedingly  careful  about  many  things \nthat  are  yet  considered  important,  as  well  as  about \nsuch  indifferent  matters  as  cutting  the  hair,  and  the \n\n*  This  was  at  the  time  of  suspense  between  the  death  of  Charles  the \nSecond,  of  Spain,  and  the  formation  of  the  Grand  Alliance  against \nLouis  the  Fourteenth. \n\n\n2l8  STRAINED   RELATIONS. \n\nstyle  of  dress.  The  world  has  overtaken  them  in \nthe  matter  of  dress,  and  any  man  who  should  now \narray  himself  in  the  ribbons  and  gold  that  were \nafTected  by  the  Cavaliers,  and  against  which  the \nPuritans  protested  would  be  deemed  little  better \nthan  a  coxcomb,  if  he  were  not  supposed  to  have \nlost  his  wits.  The  simple  black  of  the  Puritans \nis  now  the  color  of  all  well-dressed  gentlemen  in \nAmerican  society.  On  the  other  hand  we  have  not \nfollowed  them  in  their  views  about  the  garments  of \nwomen,  nor  in  their  appreciation  of  the  moderate \namount  of  education  that  the  fair  sex  may  be  per- \nmitted to  obtain.  We  can  w^ell  sympathize  with  Sew- \nall,  however,  when  he  writes :  \"  Having  been  long  and \nmuch  dissatisfied  with  the  trade  of  fetching  Negroes \nfrom  Guinea,  at  last  I  had  a  strong  inclination  to \nwrite  something  about  it ;  but  it  wore  off.  At  last \nreading  Bayne  about  servants,  who  mentions  Black- \namoors, I  began  to  be  uneasy  that  I  had  so  long \nneglected  doing  any  thing.  .  .  .  Mr.  C.  Mather  re- \nsolves to  publish  a  sheet  to  exhort  masters  to  labor \nfor  their  conversion,  which  makes  me  hope  that  I \nwas  called  of  God  to  write  this  apology  for  them.\" \nJudge  Sewall  was  decidedly  in  advance  of  \"  C. \nMather,\"  for  he  wrote  a  tract  entitled  \"  The  Selling \nof  Joseph,\"  in  which  he  amplified  an  expression  of \nhis  own  that  we  have  already  quoted  regarding  the \nslave  trade.  He  said  there  was  no  \"  proportion \nbetween  twenty  pieces  of  silver  and  LIBERTY\" \n(which  he  spelled  large);  that  Joseph's  brethren  had \nno  right  to  sell  him,  and  that  (bringing  the  argument \ndown  to  a  low  basis)  it  \"  may  be  a  question  whether \n\n\nEARLY  CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.  219 \n\nall  the  benefit  received  by  Negro  slaves  will  balance \nthe  account  of  cash  laid  out  upon  them.\"  Finally, \nrising  in  the  argument,  he  says  :  \"  Methinks  when \nwe  are  bemoaning  the  barbarous  usage  of  our  friends \nand  kinfolk  in  Africa,  it  might  not  be  unseasonable \nto  enquire  whether  we  are  not  culpable  in  forcing \nthe  Africans  to  become  slaves  among  ourselves.\" \nSewall  was  out  of  sympathy  with  his  time,  but  we  find \nthat  six  months  after  this  tract  was  published,  some \nhad  come  to  see  the  weight  of  his  reasoning,  for  one \nof  the  officers  of  the  crown,  at  the  time  of  taking \nhis  official  oath,  thanked  him  for  \"  The  Selling  of \nJoseph,\"  saying  \"  't  was  an  ingenious  discourse.\" \n\nThe  correspondence  and  diaries  of  the  time  are \nfull  of  evidences  of  that  conscientiousness  which  is  ap- \nparent in  those  of  the  earlier  day.  Sewall  tells  us, \nfor  example,  that  in  August,  1701,  he  went  down \nthe  harbor  to  the  Castle,  now  Fort  William,  where \nColonel  Romer,  a  famous  engineer,  more  noted  for \nhis  ability  in  the  line  of  his  profession  than  for  his \nPuritanic  character,  was  rebuilding  the  works.  The \nobject  of  the  visit  was  to  \"  tell  the  young  men  that \nif  any  intemperate  language  proceeded  from  Col. \nRomer,\"  it  was  not  the  intention  of  the  authorities \nin  employing  him  to  \"countenance  that,  or  to  en- \ncourage their  imitation,\"  but  that  they  should  obey \nhis  directions  only  in  so  far  as  he  was  exercising  his \nprofessional  skill  in  the  work,  \"  lest  it  should  be \nthought,\"  he  carefully  adds,  \"  that  the  Council  had \ntoo  much  winked  at  his  cursing  and  swearing,  which \nwas  complained  of.\" \n\nWe  find  that  the  tables  at  this  time  were  exceed- \n\n\n220 \n\n\nSTRAINED  RELATIONS. \n\n\ningly  well  provided.  Mrs.  Sewall  feasted  some  of \nher  women  one  day  with  a  dinner  that  her  husband \ncalled  \"  good,\"  comprising  \"  boiled  pork,  beef,  fowls, \nvery  good  roast-beef,  turkey  pie  and  tarts.\"  On \nother  occasions  there  were  provided  \"  roast  beef,  veni- \nson pastry,  cake  and  cheese,\"  and  there  was  not  un- \ncommonly \"  cider,  apples,  and  a  glass  of  wine,\"  sack \nand  posset,  or  similar  provisions,  even  when  they \n\"sung  several  Psalms,\"  or  when  there  were  exhorta- \ntions and  prayers. \n\n\nXVII. \n\n\nIS   IT   LAWFUL   TO    RESIST? \n\n\nIn  the  last  days  of  the  Mathers  there  stood  in  the \nNorth  End,  on  the  corner  of  an  alley  that  ran  from \nNorth  Street  eastward  to  Ship  Street,  an  inn  some- \ntimes known  as  the  Two  Palavcrcrs,  because  it  bore \non  its  sign  a  representation  of  two  old  gentlemen  in \nwigs,  cocked  hats,  and  knee-breeches,  ceremoniously \nsaluting  each  other.  It  was  better  known  as  Saluta- \ntion Inn,  and  from  this  fact  the  alley  was  called  Salu- \ntation Alley.  It  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  ship-yards, \nand  the  hospitable  apartments  of  this  inn,  at  about \nthe  year  1724,  a  score  of  men,  most  of  whom  lived \nin  that  region  of  Boston,  were  accustomed  to  meet \nfrom  time  to  time  as  a  club,  or  \"caucus,\"  to  lay \nplans  \"  for  introducing  certain  persons  into  places  of \ntrust  and  power.\"  *  The  most  prominent  member  of \nthis  club  was  Samuel  Adams,  a  man  born  to  be  a \nleader,  then  thirty-five  years  of  age,  a  justice  of  the \npeace,  and  deacon  in  the  Old  South  Church,  not  far \nfrom  which  he  occupied  a  pleasant  home  on  Pur- \nchase Street.     He  was  a  wise  man,  a  good  man,  and \n\n*  \"  The  History  of  the  Rise,  Progress,  and  Establishment  of  the \nIndependence  of  the  United  States  of  America,\"  by  Wm.  Gordon, \nD.D.,  vol.  i.,  p.  252,  note. \n\n221 \n\n\n222  IS  ir  LAWFUL   TO  RESIST? \n\nwas  entrusted  by  his  fellow  townsmen  with  the  im- \nportant offices  of  selectman  and  member  of  assembly.* \nSamuel  Adams  was  of  Celtic  blood,  descended  from \nan  immigrant  reputed  to  have  come  to  Ouincy  from \nDevonshire,  England,  who  became  ancestor  of  a  long \nline  of  men  who  made  the  name  of  Adams  famous \nin  the  annals  of  America  for  a  century  and  a  half. \nThe  \"  Caulker's  Club,\"  as  the  organization  just  re- \nferred to  was  called,  is  an  indication  that  the  Bos- \ntoneers  were  uniting  for  the  purpose  of  strengthen- \ning their  hold  on  public  affairs,  and  wc  shall  find \nthat  it  proved  an  educating  influence  that  was  influ- \nential not  on  the  membership  alone,  but  also  through \nthem  upon  the  whole  Boston  community. \n\nAt  the  time  of  the  departure  of  Governor  Shute, \nand  during  the  interval  that  Dummer  was  acting  in \nhis  stead,  a  son  of  the  famous  Bishop  Burnet  was \ngoverning  New  York  and  New  Jersey,  and  he  was \ndoing  it  so  judiciously  that  when  George  the  Second \nwished  that  position  for  a  favorite,  he  transferred \nWilliam  Burnet  to  Boston,  and  made  him  governor \nof  Massachusetts.  Burnet  did  not  look  upon  this \nchange  as  a  reward,  but  as  a  calamity;  for  he  had \ncome  to  America  to  retrieve  his  fortune,  and  he \nforesaw  that  the  new  post  was  not  a  favorable  one \nfor  that  purpose,  as,  indeed,  it  was  not.  He  com- \nplained that  his  fate  was  a  hard  one,  and  it  was \nevident  that  his  spirits  were  depressed. \n\n*  Mr.  Adams  was  one  of  the  most  influential  among  those  persons \nwho  formed  the  New  South  Church  in  1715,  and  built  a  meeting-house \non  land  granted  them  by  the  town.  The  site  was  apparently  intended \nby  the  early  settlers  for  such  a  use,  and  was  known  as  Church  (Ireen. \nIt  was  on  Summer  Street,  in  the  \"  South  End\"  of  those  days.  The \nbuilding  was  completed  in  1717. \n\n\nSAMUEL   ADAMS — AT  THE  AGE  OF  45  YEARS. \nAfter  the  portrait  by  Copley  in  the  Art  Museum  (1772). \n\n\n223 \n\n\n224  IS  IT  LA  WFUL   TO  RESIST? \n\nWhen  he  came  to  Boston,  which  was  not  until \nJuly,  1728,  he  was  welcomed  with  wondrous  pomp  ; \nmany  gentlemen  went  as  far  as  Narragansett  Bay  to \nmeet  him  as  he  disembarked  from  the  schooner  in \nwhich  he  arrived  from  New  York,  and  such  a  multi- \ntude of  horses  and  carriages  waited  upon  him  as  he \napproached  Boston  that  he  passed  along  the  Neck \naccompanied  by  a  cavalcade  greater  than  had  ever \nbeen  seen  on  such  an  occasion,  and  none  equalled  it \nfor  many  years  afterwards.*  The  town  expended \neleven  hundred  pounds  upon  the  pomp  and  parade ; \nthere  was  a  thunder  of  artillery,  from  the  ships  in \nthe  harbor  and  the  cannon  in  the  forts,  and  loud \nhuzzas  from  a  multitude  that  was  described  as  al- \nmost numberless  ;  there  were  addresses  and  there  was \na  poetical  welcome  written  by  that  uncontrollable \npunster,  the  bombastical  Mather  Byles,  afterwards \nminister  of  the  Hollis  Street  Church.  In  this  effu- \nsion the  young  theologian  gave  free  wing  to  his \nfancy  and  patriotism,  crying  out  in  his  enthusiasm, \n\n\"  Welcome,  great  man,  to  our  desiring  eyes  ; \nThou  earth  proclaim  it,  and  resound  ye  skies  ! \n\n*  At  the  time  of  these  joyous  proceedings,  Sir  William  Keith,  once \nGovernor  of  Pennsylvania,  proposed  to  the  king  that  duties  of  stamps \non  parchment  and  paper  should  by  act  of  Parliament  be  extended  to \nthe  American  colonies.  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  it  is  said,  remarked \nthat  he  would  leave  the  taxing  of  the  colonies  to  some  successor \npossessing  more  courage  and  less  desire  to  increase  commerce. \nWalpole  wished  to  enlarge  American  trade  ;  but  eleven  years  later \nthe  proposal  was  renewed  by  some  British  merchants,  and  received \nconsideration.  Later  still  (1765)  the  suggestion  was  adopted,  much \nto  the  disadvantage  of  English  commerce,  as  Samuel  Adams  shall \nshow  us. \n\n\nGOVERNOR  BURNET  WELCOMED.  22$ \n\nVoice  answering  voice  in  joyful  consort  meet, \nThe  hills  all  echo,  and  the  rocks  repeat : \nAnd  thou,  O  Boston,  mistress  of  the  towns. \nWhom  the  pleased  bay  with  amorous  arms  surrounds, \nLet  thy  warm  transports  blaze  in  numerous  fires, \nAnd  beaming  glories  glitter  on  thy  spires  ; \nLet  rockets  streaming  up  the  ether  glare. \nAnd  flaming  serpents  hiss  along  the  air  !  \" \n\"  While  rising  shouts  a  general  joy  proclaim, \nAnd  every  tongue,  O  Burnet,  lisps  thy  name  ! \" \n\nBurnet's  commission  was  opened  at  the  court- \nhouse, and  received  with  uncommon  joy.  He  was \nhimself  conducted  to  the  BuncJi  of  Grapes  tavern,  a \nfew  doors  from  the  town-house,  for  what  reason  the \nanti-temperance  principles  of  the  people  may  allow \nus  to  guess.  It  is  not  strange  that  in  the  face  of  such \nexuberance  as  this  Burnet  should  think  that  his  path \nwas  to  be  smoother  than  he  had  been  led  to  expect. \nIn  addressing  the  citizens  he  disssimulated  his  dis- \nappointment and  said  that  it  was  not  easy  for  him  to \nexpress  the  pleasure  he  had  in  coming  to  Boston,  that \nhis  commission  had  been  received  \"  in  so  respectful \nand  noble  a  manner,\"  and  the  \"glory  and  wealth  of \nthis  great  province  had  appeared  in  so  strong  a \nlight  \"  that  he  had  no  doubt  that  they  would  settle \nthe  matter  of  salary  in  a  suitable  manner. \n\nThis  began  a  contest,  for  the  people  were  then \njust  as  determined  as  they  had  been  before,  that  all \ntaxes  should  be  laid  of  their  own  free  will,  and  not \nby  dictation  of  king  or  parliament.  They  were  just \nas  determined  then  as  they  were  fifty  years  later ; \nin  fact,  their  stand  was  not  changed  from  the  begin- \nning,— they  were    independent   at    all  times.     The \n\n\n226  IS  IT  LA  WFUL   TO  RESIST? \n\nhouse  was  willing  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  gov- \nernor's coming  to  them,  and  to  support  him  ;  but \nthey  would  not  vote  a  \"  salary  \"  ;  and  the  governor \nwas  true  to  his  instructions ;  he  would  receive  noth- \ning less  than  an  established  stipend.  The  colonists \nwere  somewhat  encouraged  in  their  course  by  the  fact \nthat  the  inhabitants  of  Barbadoes  were  at  the  same \ntime  engaged  in  a  contest  with  their  governor  against \na  fixed  salary,  especially  as  the  islanders  could  not \nsustain  their  cause  by  an  appeal  to  a  charter.  The \npeople  of  the  Barbadoes  had  given  their  governor  a \nlarge  salary,  but  he  had  oppressed  them,  and  they \nretaliated  in  this  way.  They  gave  up  the  struggle \nat  last,  but  compromised  by  decreasing  the  amount \nof  the  stipend.  Governor  Burnet  thought  to  gain \nhis  point  by  refusing  consent  to  all  acts  of  the  legis- \nlature until  the  salary  should  be  voted,  and  thus  the \nmembers  of  the  house  were  unable  to  obtain  their \nown  pay  ;  but  the  merchants  of  Boston  stepped  to \ntheir  relief  and  advanced  the  necessary  funds,  the \npeople  voting  them  at  the  spring  town-meeting.* \nThe  governor  said  that  the  house  was  too  much \ninfluenced  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town;  for  in \nvoting  the.  money  to  the  representatives  the  Bos- \ntonians  had  unanimously  declared  their  opposi- \ntion to  the  salary.  This  Burnet,  in  great  wrath, \npronounced  \"an  unnecessary  forwardness,  an  at- \ntempt to  give  law  to  the  country,\"  and  accordingly \nhe    adjourned    the    legislature    to    Salem,    \"  where \n\n*  In  all  of  these  discussions  the  town  of  Boston  was  stiff  in  its \nindependence,  though  the  deputies  from  the  country  places  sometimes \nfavored  the  royal  prerogative. \n\n\nGLOVES  AND   KINGS  FOR   MOURNERS.        22/ \n\nprejudice  had  not  taken  root.\"  The  change  of \nplace  did  not  effect  any  change  of  temper,  and \nthe  unhappy  dispute  continued.  Nothing  was  done \nafter  several  unsuccessful  sessions,  and  the  governor \nadjourned  the  house  to  Cambridge.  Meantime  he \nwas  in  straits  for  money,  himself,  but  no  town \noffered  to  give  him  help,  and  he  was  much  dis- \ntressed ;  but  ever  true  to  his  royal  master,  he  would \nnot  compromise  the  matter.  The  discussion  grew \nwarmer,  the  breach  wider,  and  messages  flew  faster \nand  faster  between  the  house  and  the  governor, \nuntil,  at  last,  the  governor  being  overthrown  in  his \nchaise  on  the  Cambridge  causeway,  caught  a  cold, \nwhich,  with  his  ofificial  perplexities,  so  wore  upon \nhim,  that  his  death  followed,  of  a  fever  (after  an \nillness  of  about  five  days),  at  Boston,  September \n7,  1729.  He  had  held  his  office  but  fourteen  months. \nGovernor  Burnet  was  an  amiable  and  estimable \nman  in  many  respects,  and  the  people  of  Massachu- \nsetts found  no  fault  with  him  ;  they  objected  to  a \nprinciple  only.  When  he  died  they  appropriated \neleven  hundred  pounds  for  the  expenses  of  his \nfuneral,  which  was  conducted  after  the  English \nfashion.  Gloves  and  rings  were  given  to  the  mourn- \ning members  of  the  general  court,  and  the  ministers \nof  King's  chapel,  to  three  physicians,  the  bearers, \nthe  president  of  Harvard  College,  and  the  women \nwho  laid  out  the  body ;  while  gloves  only  were \ngiven  to  the  under-bearers,  the  justices,  the  captains \nof  the  castle  and  of  the  man-of-war  in  the  harbor,  to \nofficers  of  the  customs,  professors  and  fellows  of  the \ncollege,  and  the  ministers  of  Boston  who  happened \n\n\n228  /S  IT  LA  WFUL   TO  RESIST? \n\nto  attend  the  funeral.  Wine  was  furnished  to  the \nBoston  regiment  as  much  as  was  thought  needful.* \nSeveral  years  later  a  grant  of  three  thousand  pounds \nwas  made  to  the  governor's  children,  who  were \norphans. \n\nGeorge  the  Second  now  commissioned  as  governor \nJonathan  Belcher,  son  of  a  prosperous  Boston  mer- \nchant, and  a  graduate  of  Harvard  College,  who  had \npreviously  been  in  ofifice  in  the  colony.  He  was \na  polished  and  sociable  gentleman,  had  travelled \nextensively,  and  in  the  course  of  his  European  wan- \nderings had  been  more  than  once  at  the  court  at \nHanover,  where  he  had  been  noticed  with  distin- \nguished politeness.  As  governor  he  lived  elegantly, \nentertained  much,  made  great  show  in  equipage \nand  dress,  and  might  have  been  popular  had  he  not \nbeen  indiscreet  in  his  personal  remarks  about  those \nwhom  he  disapproved.  He  was  a  supporter  of  the \nroyal  prerogative,  and  the  people  found  very  soon \nthat  in  changing  governors  they  had  gained  nothing  ; \nbut  had  simply  changed  the  person  with  whom  they \nwere  fighting. \n\n*  The  distribution  of  rings  was  common  at  New  England  funerals, \nand  gloves  and  scarfs  were  also  given  away  at  such  times,  until  1721 \nwhen  the  general  court  decreed  that  scarfs  must  not  longer  he  dis- \ntributed, because  a  burdensome  custom.  In  1741,  wine  and  rum \nwere  forbidden  to  be  distributed.  In  the  English  funerals  of  the \nolden  time  vast  quantities  of  eatables  and  drinkables  were  given  away, \nand  we  read  that  on  the  occasion  of  burying  a  lord  in  the  time  of \nCharles  the  Second,  \\\\hile  an  oration  was  delivered,  \"a  large  pot  of \nwine  stood  upon  the  coffin,  out  of  which  every  on  drank  to  the  health \nof  the  deceased.\"  One  Boston  clergyman,  in  T748,  left  a  record  of \ntwo  thousand  nine  hundred  and  forty  pairs  of  gloves  that  he  had \nreceived.      He  sold  as  many  of  the  rings  and  gloves  as  he  could. \n\n\nDISCUSSIONS  OF  SALARY  AND    CURRENCY.        22g \n\nGovernor  Belcher  landed  from  a  war-ship,  August \n10,  1730,  and  was  received  with  much  parade.  He \nsoon  began  his  efforts  to  obtain  a  salary,  and  it  was \nfound  that  his  instructions  were  couched  in  much \nstronger  terms  than  those  of  Burnet,  the  sovereign \nthreatening  that  in  case  of  obstinacy  the  previous \nunwarrantable  practices  of  the  colonists  would  be \nbrought  to  the  attention  of  Parliament.  Belcher \nwas  directed  to  return  immediately  to  England  if \nthe  salary  were  not  voted.  Session  after  session \npassed  ;  the  house  voting  as  usual  that  to  grant  a \nsalary  would  deprive  themselves  of  their  rights  as \nEnglishmen,  and  the  governor  threatening  that  he \nwould  go  back  to  London  if  a  salary  were  not  pro- \nvided. At  last,  in  1735,  orders  came  from  England \nto  Belcher,  first  to  accept  certain  particular  grants, \nand  then  to  take  whatever  he  could  get.  Robert \nWalpole,  who  did  not  care  to  meddle  with  the \naffairs  of  the  colony  when  he  could  with  decency  let \nthem  alone,  probably  had  enough  to  occupy  his \nattention  in  his  efforts  to  keep  England  out  .of  a \ncontinental  war,  and  did  not  enjoy  the  constant \nstories  of  bickerings  that  came  to  him  from  the  dis- \ntant colonies  of  New  England,  the  importance  of \nwhich  he  could  not  so  clearly  estimate  as  he  could \nthat  of  those  nearer  home.  The  victory  seems  to \nus  to  have  been  clearly  on  the  side  of  the  Americans. \n\nAt  this  time  (1740)  the  currency  was  paper,  and  it \nhad  so  greatly  depreciated  that  five  hundred  and \nfifty  pounds  of  it  were  worth  but  one  hundred \npounds  of  sterling  exchange.  The  balance  of  trade \nwas  against  Boston,  and  the   good  coins  that  Hull \n\n\n230  IS  IT  LAWFUL   TO   RESIST? \n\nhad  made  in  1650  and  1660  had  all  gone  out  of  cir- \nculation. The  projector  of  the  bank  of  17 14.,  who \nhad  seen  his  plan  ignored,  now  proposed  it  anew, \nand  the  people  were  pleased  to  establish  what  was \nknown  as  the  \"  Land  Bank  \"  scheme,  a  private  en- \nterprise by  which  it  was  hoped  to  put  farther  off  the \nday  Avhen  financial  affairs  should  be  brought  to  a \nspecie  basis.  This  action  was  opposed  to  an  act  of \nParliament  passed  twenty  years  before,  which  had, \nhowever,  no  bearing  upon  the  plantations  ;  and  now \nParliament  suppressed  the  new  bank,  by  simply  de- \nclaring that  its  former  act  should  extend  to  the  col- \nonies from  its  passage  ;  a  singular  retroactive  asser- \ntion, the  propriety  of  which  may  well  be  doubted. \nIts  effect  was  not  only  to  stop  the  operations  of  the \nland  bank,  but  to  give  every  bill-holder  a  right  to \nsue  every  partner  or  director  for  the  sum  which  he \nmight  have  lost.  This  threw  the  directors  into  con- \nsternation. The  stockholders  of  this  bank  were \nmen  of  character,  and  among  them  we  find  the \nnames  of  Samuel  Adams,  of  Purchase  Street,  Robert \nHale,  of  Beverly,  and  others  of  equally  high  repute. \nDuring  this  time  there  had  been  a  dispute  between \nMassachusetts  and  New  Hampshire  regarding  their \nrespective  jurisdictions,  and  it  was  settled  by  Belcher \nin  such  a  way  that  Massachusetts  lost  a  considerable \nterritory  that  she  had  claimed.  The  same  process \nhad  been  pursued  in  the  region  of  Plymouth  and \nRhode  Island,  and  Massachusetts  had  also  lost  in \nthose  directions.  There  had  always  been  a  party  in \nthe  colony  disaffected  with  the  governor,  and  his \nopposition  to  the  bank  strengthened  it  and  increased \n\n\nTHE  FIRST  \"CENTENNIAL.\"  23 1 \n\nthe  number  of  his  enemies  to  such  an  extent  that \nthey  were  able  to  undermine  him  in  England  and \nfinally  to  effect  his  recall.  He  was  removed  in  1741. \nEngland  had  accomplished  nothing  in  the  way  of \nbreaking  down  the  spirit  of  independence  in  New \nEngland  by  his  instrumentality. \n\nThe  year  that  Governor  Belcher  came  to  Boston \nwas  the  close  of  the  first  century  of  its  existence, \nand  \"  centennial  sermons  \"  were  preached  in  which \nthe  occasion  was  made  the  most  of,  not  by  way  of \nhistorical  edification  so  much  as  for  the  purpose  of \nimpressing  proper  moral  and  religious  lessons.  It \nhappened  that  Judge  Samuel  Sewall  died  on  the \nfirst  day  of  January  in  that  }'ear,  and  at  his  funeral \nhis  pastor,  Thomas  Prince,  the  chronologist,  who  was \nminister  of  the  South  Church,  being  colleague  of \nJoseph  Sewall,  son  of  the  judge,  preached  a  sermon \nwhich  was  of  the  nature  of  a  centennial  discourse. \nAt  the  opening  of  the  general  court  in  May,  Mr. \nThomas  Prince  again  was  preacher,  and  he  made \nfitting  reference  to  the  events  of  1630,  and  probably \nrepeated  to  his  hearers  many  facts  that  he  had  re- \nceived from  his  old  parishioner  Judge  Sewall,  who \nhad  been  familiar  with  the  history  of  Boston  to \nwithin  thirty  years  of  the  landing  of  Winthrop.  In \nAugust  Mr.  Thomas  Foxcroft  of  the  First  Church \nfollowed  with  a  discourse  entitled  \"  Observations \nHistorical  and  Practical  on  the  Rise  and  Primitive \nState  of  New  England  \"  ;  and  during  the  sessions  of \nthe  court  Mr.  John  Webb,  of  the  North  Church, \npreached  a  Thursday  lecture  \"  On  the  Great  Con- \ncern of  New  England,\"  in  which  he  brought  before \n\n\n232  IS  IT  LAWFUL  TO   RESIST? \n\nhis  congregation  the  \"  awful  signs  of  God's  with- \ndrawing from  us,\"  mentioning  especially  the  \"  flood \nof  irreligion  and  profaneness,\"  the  \"  terrible  cursing \nand  swearing,  pernicious  lying,  slandering  and  back- \nbiting, cruel  injustice  and  oppression,  rioting  and \ndrunkenness,\"  etc. \n\nIn  1740  Boston  had  a  visit  from  the  celebrated \nyoung  evangelist,  George  Whitefield,  who  had  gone \nto  Georgia  the  year  before  and  now  stopped  in  New \nEngland  on  his  way  home.  He  preached  for  Dr. \nColman  and  Mr.  Cooper  in  the  Brattle  Street  Church \nfirst,  September  19th,  and  at  the  South  Church  the \nfollowing  day,  to  vast  crowds  on  each  occasion  ;  and \nhe  spoke  several  times  on  the  Common  to  audiences \nestimated  at  from  eight  thousand  to  twenty  thou- \nsand persons.  A  very  acrimonious  warfare  of \npamphlets  was  waged  over  him  afterwards,  but  it  is \nunquestioned  that  his  audiences  were  deeply  im- \npressed by  discourses  which  are  said  to  have  been \ndelivered  in  \"  such  a  tender,  earnest,  and  moving \nmanner  as  melted  the  assembly  into  tears.\" \n\nWhen  Mr.  Whitefield  visited  Cambridge,  he  was \nrather  sharp  in  his  criticism  of  the  college.  In  his \ndiary,  published  afterwards,  he  wrote,  under  date  Sep- \ntember 24,  1740  : \n\n\"  Went  this  morning  to  see  and  preach  at  Cambridge, \nthe  chief  college  for  training  up  the  sons  of  the  prophets \nin  all  New  England.  It  has  one  president,  four  tutors, \nupwards  of  one  hundred  students.  It  is  scarce  as  big  as \none  of  our  least  colleges  in  Oxford,  and  as  far  as  I  could \ngather  from  some  who  well  knew  the  state  of  it,  not  far \nsuperior  to  our  universities  in  piety  and  true  godliness. \n\n\nWHITEFIELD    VS,    HARVARD    COLLEGE.       233 \n\nTutors  neglect  to  pray  with  and  examine  the  hearts  of \ntheir  pupils.  Discipline  is  at  too  low  an  ebb.  Bad  books \nare  becoming  fashionable  among  them.\" \n\nA  few  weeks  later  he  added  :  \"  As  for  the  univer- \nsities, I  believe  it  may  be  said  their  light  is  now \nbecome  darkness, — darkness  that  may  be  felt  ;  and \nis  complained  of  by  the  most  godly  ministers.\" \n\nPresident  Holyoke  was  inclined  to  think  well  of \nWhitefield,  though  he  deprecated  his  extravagance, \nand  thought  that  his  \"  godly  jealousy  for  the \nchurches  of  Christ  \"  had  caused  him  to  bear  false \nwitness  against  the  college,  and  he  united  with  the \nprofessors  in  publishing  a  pamphlet  in  which  the \nevangelist's  \"  arrogance,  rashness,  and  censoriosness  \" \nwere  exposed,  and  he  himself  boldly  pronounced  an \n\"  uncharitable  person  and  a  deluder  of  the  people.\" \nTutor  Flynt  thought  that  Whitefield  was  a  \"  com- \nposition of  a  great  deal  of  good  and  some  bad,\"  as \n\"very  apt  to  judge  harshly,  and  censure  in  the \nseverest  terms  those  who  differ  from  his  scheme.\" \nDoubtless  there  was  truth  in  what  Tutor  Flvnt  said. \nIt  must  be  remembered  that  Whitefield  was  at  the \ntime  only  twenty-five  years  of  age,  had  been  flattered \nand  caressed  in  a  remarkable  manner,  and  that  he \nmight  well  have  been  led  into  extravagances  by  per- \nsons not  friendly  to  the  college. \n\nThe  last  years  of  the  official  life  of  Governor \nBelcher  are  to  be  remembered  as  connected  with \nthe  foundation  of  one  of  Boston's  most  noted  public \nbuildings.  For  many  years  the  subject  of  markets \nhad  been  discussed  in  one  form  and  another.  In \n1717  it  was   represented   that   the   inhabitants  were \n\n\n234  ^^  IT  LAWFUL   TO   RESIST? \n\nimposed  upon  by  hucksters,  and  a  committee  of  the \ntown-meeting  reported  in  favor  of  establishing  a \nmarket-house,  but  the  town,  after  debating  the  sub- \nject, disallowed  it.  It  1733  it  was  voted  to  put  up \nthree  such  buildings  in  different  parts  of  town, \nand  money  was  appropriated  for  the  purpose.  They \nwere  erected  ;  but  that  at  the  North  End  was  taken \ndown  and  the  timber  used  for  building  a  work-house  ; \none  at  the  South  End  was  changed  into  shops ;  and \nthe  third,  which  was  at  Dock  Square,  was  demol- \nished by  a  mob  that  carried  off  the  timber  for  pri- \nvate use. \n\nNow  the  matter  was  brought  up  again,  and  many \nfavored  the  erection  of  such  a  structure,  but  a \nmajority  could  not  be  obtained  at  town-meeting \nuntil  Mr.  Peter  Faneuil,  a  wealthy  member  of \na  Huguenot  family  from  Rochelle,  offered  to \nbuild  a  market-house  on  the  site  of  the  one  de- \nstroyed at  Dock  Square,  provided  the  town  would \nlegally  authorize  it  and  make  proper  regulations  for \nits  care.  So  great  was  the  opposition  to  the  project \neven  in  this  form  that  three  hundred  and  sixty \npersons  voted  against  accepting  the  gift,  and \nbut  seven  more  in  favor  of  it.  The  majority  of \nseven  votes  carried  the  day,  however,  and  Faneuil \nHall  was  given  to  the  town.  It  Was  finished  and \nformally  accepted  in  1742  ;  but  so  few  people  re- \nsorted to  it  that  it  was  almost  entirely  abandoned, \nand  in  1747  the  town  voted  to  close  it.  It  was \nopened  again  in  March,  1748,  for  three  days  in  the \nweek,  but  in  1752,  after  a  sharp  contest,  it  was  in- \ndefinitely closed.     It  was  destroyed  by  fire  in    1761, \n\n\nFANEUIL  HALL  IS  BUILT. \n\n\n235 \n\n\nbut  rebuilt  in  1763,  with  some  alterations,  but  of  the \noriginal  size,  a  lottery  being  authorized  for  the  pur- \npose of  supplying  the  funds.  The  first  building  was \nof  brick,  one  hundred  feet  by  forty;  in  1806  it  was \nenlarged  to  eighty  feet  in  width  and  one  story  was \nadded  to  its  height.  Faneuil  Hall  became  the  favorite \nplace  for  public  meetings,  and  it  is  not  a  little  notable \n\n\nTHE    SECOND    FANEUIL   HALL    (1764). \n\n\nthat  the  first  formal  oration  pronounced  in  it  was \ndelivered  March  14,  1743,  on  the  occasion  of  the \nfounder's  death.  The  Reverend  Charles  Chauncy, \nof  the  First  Church,  began  the  exercises  with  prayer, \nafter  which  Mr.  John  Lovell,  master  of  the  South \nGrammar  School,  advanced  to  the  moderator's  seat, \nand   pronounced   his   eulogy,  in  the  course  of  which \n\n\n236  IS  IT  LAWFUL  TO  RESIST? \n\nwith  prophetic  forecast  he  exclaimed  :  \"  May  Liberty \nalways  spread  its  joyful  wings  over  this  place  !  \" \n\nThe  year  1740  is  memorable  because  it  was  the \none  in  which  a  son  of  Samuel  Adams  of  the  Caulk- \ners' Club  graduated  at  Cambridge,  Of  all  the  orators \nwho  ever  opened  their  lips  in  Faneuil  Hall  this  son, \nwho  was,  like  his  father,  named  Samuel,  was  the  one \nwho  gave  it  the  right  to  be  called  the  \"  Cradle  of \nLiberty,\"  and  may  be  said  to  have  begun  the  fulfil- \nment of  the  somewhat  rhetorical  prophesy  of  Master \nLovell.  \"  Sam  \"  Adams,  as  his  contemporaries \ncalled  him,  probably  in  affectionate  distinction  from \nhis  father,  was  a  Puritan  of  the  Puritans;  educated \nin  the  atmosphere  of  strict  fidelity  to  the  religious \nfaith  of  the  fathers,  familiar  with  the  independent \nconversation  of  the  members  of  the  Caulkers'  Club, \nsome  of  whom  were  doubtless  among  the  throng  of \nwelcome  visitors  at  the  Purchase  Street  dwelling,  an \nintelligent  pupil  at  the  wooden  school-house  that \nthen  stood  back  of  King's  Chapel,  and  gave  its  name \nto  the  street ;  stirred  in  his  soul  by  the  preaching  of \nWhitefield,  which  quickened  all  Boston,  he  was \nready  after  his  college  course  was  completed  to  ex- \nemplify in  his  life  the  principles  upon  which  the  gen- \nerations before  him  had  founded  the  commonwealth. \nThree  years  after  graduation  Sam  Adams  began  to \nshow  that  he  was  to  be  a  thoughtful  and  daring \nspeaker  for  the  liberties  of  the  people,  for  he  took  for \nhis  subject  when  candidate  for  the  degree  of  Master \nof  Arts  the  question,  \"  Whether  it  Be  Lawful  to  Re- \nsist the  Supreme  Magistrate,  if  the  Commonwealth \nCannot  Otherwise  be  Preserved  ?  \" \n\n\nADAMS  ASKS  A    QUESTION.  237 \n\nWhatever  Adams  said  on  this  occasion,  standing \nin  the  presence  of  the  President,  Edward  Holyoke, \nthe  dignified  professors,  and  his  excellency  the  gov- \nernor, representing  His  most  gracious  Majesty,  King \nGeorge  the  Second,  besides  the  other  officials  of  the \nCrown,  he  showed  in  what  direction  events  were \ntending.  The  people  had  now  been  for  a  hundred \nyears  standing  up  for  what  they  considered  their \nrights,  in  the  employment  of  measures  of  a  peaceful \nkind  ;  they  had  placed  every  obstacle  in  the  way \nof  the  king  when  he  attempted  to  take  from  them \ntheir  charter ;  and  when  it  had  been  snatched  away, \nthey  had  made  the  path  of  the  governors  sent  to \nthem  as  full  of  thorns  as  they  could,  interposing  ob- \nstacles almost  insurmountable  to  the  peaceful  per- \nformance of  the  duties  demanded  of  them;  now  they \nstood  at  a  place  where  Samuel  Adams  could  ask \nthem  whether  it  was  lawful  to  take  up  arms  in  case \nthe  liberties  of  the  people  could  not  otherwise  be \npreserved.  It  was  a  bold  step  on  the  part  of  a \nyoung  man,  and  it  was  taken  at  a  moment  when  its \ninfluence  must  have  been  great,  and  on  a  spot  to  be \nremembered. \n\nPublic  occasions  at  Harvard  College  were  import- \nant in  those  days,  and  they  are  still  considered  times \nwhen  high  themes  are  to  be  presented  and  discussed \nin  a  rational  manner.  In  one  of  his  least  objection- \nable \"  poems,\"  Mather  Byles  describes  a  festal  occa- \nsion at  Harvard  College  in  glowing  terms.  It  was  a \nday  when  all  the  neighboring  towns  emptied  them- \nselves into  Cambridge,  when  those  who  followed  the \nthrong  hastened \n\n\n238  IS  IT  LAWFUL    TO  RESIST? \n\n\"  To  that  admired  solemnity,  whose  date, \nTho'  late  begun,  will  last  as  long  as  fate  !  \" \n\nMr.  Byles  describes  the  passage  of  the  Charles  River \nby  ferry  in  a  way  that  is  quite  amusing.  He  shows \nus  the  crowd  from  Boston  waiting  for  the  slow- \napproaching  boat,  into  which \n\n\"  With  impetuous  haste  they  clustering  pour  ; \nThe  men  the  head,  the  stern  the  ladies  grace. \nAnd  neighing  horses  fill  the  middle  space. \nSunk  deep,  the  boat  floats  slow  the  waves  along. \nAnd  scarce  contains  the  thickly  crowded  throng  ; \nA  general  horror  seizes  on  the  fair,   .   .   . \nTill  rowed  with  care,  they  reach  the  opposing  side, \nLeap  on  the  shore  and  leave  the  threatening  tide. \nAnd  now  the  time  approaches  when  the  bell \nWith  dull  continuance  tolls  a  solemn  knell. \nNumbers  of  blooming  youth  in  black  array \nAdorn  the  yard  and  gladden  all  the  day.\" \n\nIn  the  rugged  and  monotonous  verse  we  see  the \nprocession  formed,  the  president  at  the  head,  fol- \nlowed by  the  senate,  the  clergy,  the  undergraduates, \nand  the  populace,  until  they  enter  the  church,  where \n\n\"  The  work  begun  with  prayer,  with  modest  pace \nA  youth  advancing  mounts  the  desk  with  grace, \nTo  all  the  audience  sweeps  a  circling  bow, \nThen  from  his  lips  ten  thousand  graces  flow. \nThe  next  that  comes  a  learned  thesis  reads.\" \n\nWe  can  readily  imagine  Adams  \"  sweeping  the \ncircling  bow \"  to  the  crowded  audience  at  Cam- \nbridge, and  dropping  into  their  minds  seeds  that  he \ndesired  to  have  spring  up  in  the  future.  No  man \nknew  better  how  to  time  his  utterances,  and  we  may \n\n\nADAMS  EMBRACES  AN   OPPORTUNITY.       239 \n\nbe  sure  that  it  was  not  chance,  nor  the  prescription \nof  any  tutor,  that  led  him  to  take  the  particular \nsubject  that  he  discussed  on  this  notable  occasion. \nHe  knew  that  Cambridge  would  be  crowded,  that \nthe  audience  would  come  from  all  the  country \naround,  that  Boston  would  be  well  represented,  that \nthe  learned  clergy  would  be  present,  that  the  hearers \nwould  be  in  a  frame  of  mind  adapted  to  receive \nwhat  was  told  them  without  specially  questioning  it, \nand,  above  all,  he  knew  that  he  was  to  address  the \nyoung  men  upon  whom  the  answer  to  the  question \nwas  to  depend  a  few  years  later.  Perhaps  James \nOtis,  who  was  a  member  of  the  class,  graduated  that \nmorning,  heard  the  weighty  words,  and  did  not  forget \nthem. \n\n\nXVIII. \n\n\nTESTED   AND   NOT   FOUND   WANTING. \n\n\nMore  than  a  hundred  years  before  this  time, \nafter  the  war  with  the  Pequods,  it  seemed  to  some \nof  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  that  a  military  organi- \nzation would  be  a  good  thing,  and  accordingly,  in \n1637,  certain  men  formed  themselves  into  a  company, \nwhich  continues  to  this  day,  the  oldest  band  of  citi- \nzen soldiery  in  America.  The  organization  was  very \ninformal  at  first.   John  Winthrop  says,  in  his  journal : \n\n\"  Divers  gentlemen  and  others  being  joined  in  a  mili- \ntary company  desired  to  be  made  a  corporation,  but  the \ncouncil,  considering  from  the  example  of  the  Praetorian \nBand  among  the  Romans  and  the  Templars  in  Europe, \nhow  dangerous  it  might  be  to  erect  a  standing  authority \nof  military  men,  which  might  easily  in  time  overtop  the \ncivil  power,  thought  fit  to  stop  it  betimes  ;  yet  they  were \nallowed  to  be  a  company,  but  subordinate  to  all  authority.\" \n\nAccordingly,  the  \"  Military  Company  of  the  Mas- \nsachusetts \"  was  formed,  and  Robert  Keayne  (who \nafterwards  had  the  trouble  with  Mrs.  Sherman  and \nher  pig)  was  captain.  These  persons  had  a  formal \ncharter  authorizing  them  to  choose  oi^cers,  to  as- \nsemble   and    drill    wherever    they   pleased,    and   to \n\n240 \n\n\n\"  THE  ANCIENT  AND   HONORABLE\"  24I \n\nmake  laws  for  their  own  government  ;  it  being \nspecially  stipulated  that  no  officers  should  be  put \nupon  them  but  those  of  their  own  choice.  One \nthousand  acres  of  land  were  given  them  for  the  pay- \nment of  any  charges  they  should  be  put  to,  and  the \nfirst  Monday  of  every  month  was  set  apart  for  their \ndrill-day,  no  other  training,  or  even  town-meetings, \nbeing  permitted  on  that  day.  Captain  Keayne  had \nbeen  connected  with  the  \"  Honourable  Artillery \nCompany  \"  of  London,  and,  in  course  of  time,  this \nnew  organization  was  called  the  \"  Honourable \" \nArtillery  Company.  In  1738,  it  was  styled  the \n\"Honourable  and  Ancient  Company;\"  since  that \ntime  it  has  been  known  as  the  \"Ancient  and  Honor- \nable Artillery  Company,\"  and  the  last  name  has  been \nconfirmed  by  the  Legislature.  In  1770,  this  body \nstood  forth  in  gold-laced  hats,  blue  coats,  buff  under- \nclothes, silk  stockings,  and  white-linen  spatterdashes  ; \nits  days  of  parade  were  signalized  by  a  drummer, \nwho  passed  through  the  principal  streets  vigorously \nbeating  the  rappel,  and  the  company  was  assembled \nbv  the  same  martial  sounds.*  The  election  of  its \nofficers  is  a  notable  ceremony,  and  on  the  occasion \nthere  is  still,  as  there  was  in  the  days  of  the  fathers,  an \n\"  Election  Sermon.\" \n\nAll  men  in  Boston  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and \nsixty  were,  in  early  times,  required  to  belong  to  the \nmilitia,  and  the  privates  were  provided  with  pikes, \nmuskets,  swords,  bandoleers  (pouches  for  powder \nand  bullets),  and  a  rest  for  use  in  taking  aim  ;   while \n\n*  \"  History  of  the  Ancient  and  Honorable  Artillery  Company,\"  by \nZacariah  G.  Whitman,  Boston,  1842,  p.  456. \n\n\n242         TESTED   AND   NOT  FOUND   WANTING. \n\ntheir  bodies  were  sometimes  protected  by  little \ncuirasses,  and  by  coats  quilted  with  cotton.  These \nmen  were  formed  into  train-bands,  each  of  which \ncounted  not  less  than  sixty-four,  nor  more  than  two \nhundred,  members,  and  these,  in  turn,  were  .distrib- \nuted into  regiments,  the  governor  being  commander- \nin-chief.  At  stated  times,  the  train-bands  met  for \nexercise,  and  there  were  prayers  before  and  after  the \ndrill ;  the  whole  business  being  entered  upon  and \nperformed  with  the  same  religious  earnestness  that \ncharacterized  all  the  doings  of  the  Bostoneers  of  the \nolden  time.  Officers,  when  chosen,  considered  their \nelections  cause  for  thanksgiving  to  God,  and  entered \nupon  the  discharge  of  their  duties  after  solemn \nprayer.  The  people  believed  and  said  that  \"  piety \ncould  not  be  maintained  without  church  ordinances \nand  officers,  nor  justice  without  laws  and  magistracy, \nno  more  can  our  safety  and  peace  be  preserved  with- \nout military  orders  and  officers,\"  and  that  it  was  an \nequally  solemn  duty  to  support  them  all.  Doubtless \nthe  trained  soldiers  of  the  regular  armies  of  France \nand  England,  when  they  came  in  contact  with  these \nAmerican  militiamen  in  times  of  peace,  felt  some  dis- \ndain for  them  ;  but,  when  they  met  in  war,  they \nfound  to  their  dismay  that  the  New  Englanders, \ntrained  from  early  life  to  the  use  of  the  musket,  and \naccustomed  to  desperate  encounters  with  savage \nfoes,  were  not  wanting  in  courage  nor  in  effective- \nness, though  they  did  not  wear  the  gorgeous  uniforms \nnor  understand  the  intricate  manceuvres'  of  older \npeoples.  Probably  the  Boston  company  that  did \nescort   duty   to  the  soldiers  of   La  Tour,    on    that \n\n\nA    BUSTLING  AND    SPIRITED    GOVERNOR.     243 \n\n\\ \n\ntraining-day  in  1643  when  the  Frenchmen  were  per- \nmitted to  come  ashore  for  purposes  of  exercise,  were \nas  much  interested  as  the  governor  and  magistrates \nwere  in  the  \"variety  of  miHtary  movements  \"  that \nthe  strangers  went  through  ;  and  at  other  times, \nwhen  English  veterans  came  among  the  Bostonians, \nsimilar  feelings  must  have  been  excited. \n\nThe  next  royal  governor,  William  Shirley,  though \na  native  of  London,  was  practising  law  in  Boston  at \nthe  time  of  his  appointment,  May  16,  1741.  He  was \nwell  acquainted  with  the  distracted  condition  of  the \ncolonial  currency,  and  he  knew  also  what  dififilculties \nhis  predecessor  had  encountered  in  managing  His \nMajesty's  affairs  among  an  unsympathetic  people. \nHe  served  until  1756  ;  but  was  absent  from  Boston \nfour  years  of  that  time.  He  was  much  occupied  by \nimportant  movements  in  King  George's  War,  which \nlasted  from  1744  to  1748,  and  in  the  French  and \nIndian  War,  so-called,  which  began  two  years  before \nhe  left,  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  having  proved \nonly  a  truce  in  the  contest  that  was  at  the  same \nperiod  exciting  Europe.  Governor  Shirley  was  a \nbustling  and  spirited  military  man,  and  took  his \nshare  in  actual  warfare,  besides  giving  his  counsel  to \nthose  who  fought  when  he  did  not ;  though  he  left \nthe  colony  in  a  state  of  great  depression,  probably \ngreater  than  that  in  which  he  found  it. \n\nThree  points  demand  notice  in  the  career  of  Gov- \nernor Shirley  :  first,  the  struggle  for  a  salary ;  next, \nthe  capture  of  Louisburg  ;  and  lastly,  the  Albany \nConvention  of  1754,  called  by  the  American  gov- \nernors, by  advice  of  the  English   Board   of  Trade. \n\n\n244        TESTED  AND  NOT  FOUND  WANTING. \n\nThe  governor  opened  the  dispute  about  the  salary \nvery  promptly,  and  it  ran  through  the  usual  stages, \nuntil,  at  last,  both  he  and  the  ministry  at  home  con- \ncluded that  the  colonists  were  only  aggravated  by \npressing  the  matter  and  that  it  had  better  be  dropped, \nespecially  since  the  cooperation  of  the  colony  was \nneeded  in  war  at  the  time. \n\nKing  George's  War  was  declared  in  the  early  spring \nof  1744.  By  means  of  fast  sailing  vessels  the  news \nhad  reached  the  French  at  their  strong  fortress  at \nLouisburg  some  time  before  it  was  known  at  Boston \nor  by  the  English  in  America  anywhere.  Immediate \nadvantage  was  taken  of  this  early  information,  and \nan  expedition  was  sent  out  which  captured  an  Eng- \nlish garrison  at  Canso.  It  was  an  unfortunate  ad- \nvantage, for  it  alarmed  Boston  and  the  rest  of  New \nEngland,  and  put  them  in  the  way  of  valuable  infor- \nmation that  might  not  otherwise  have  come  into \ntheir  possession.  Some  of  the  prisoners  from  Louis- \nburg found  their  way  to  Boston  and  told  the  author- \nities just  what  they  wished  to  know  about  the \nstrength,  but  especially  the  weakness,  of  that  cele- \nbrated garrison. \n\nThe  French  had  occupied  themselves  for  thirty \nyears  in  building  fortifications  around  Louisburg, \nand  it  was  thought  at  this  time  that  every  point  that \nan  enemy  could  possibly  approach  was  protected  by \nthe  wall,  which  was  of  stone,  from  thirty  to  thirty-six \nfeet  high,  guarded  by  a  ditch  eighty  feet  wide  out- \nside of  it.  Two  batteries  commanded  the  entrance \nto  the  harbor.  The  position  of  Louisburg  was  very \nimportant  to  the  French,  for  it  was  not  only  conve- \n\n\nA    HARVARD   MAN'S  PLAN\".  245 \n\nnient  to  protect  the  St.  Lawrence,  but  it  was  also  a \ngood  place  from  which  to  send  out  expeditions  to \noperate  on  the  New  England  coast.  There  was  at \nthe  time  living  at  Damariscotta,  Maine,  a  graduate \nof  Harvard  College,  who  was  engaged  in  the  fishing \nbusiness,  and  therefore  interested  in  whatever  the \nFrench  might  do  affecting  the  safety  of  vessels  in \nthat  part  of  the  Atlantic.  He  collected  all  the  in- \nformation that  he  could  about  Louisburg,  and  then \nwent  to  Boston  to  tell  Governor  Shirley  what  he \nhad  learned.  The  governor  was  also  informed  that \nin  the  winter  the  snow  was  piled  up  against  the \ngreat  walls  in  such  a  way  that  soldiers  could  easily \nclimb  over  into  the  fortress,  and  that  the  garrison \nwas  badly  provisioned  and  insubordinate. \n\nThe  court  of  Massachusetts  had  already  been \nwarned  by  the  governor  that  it  was  necessary  to \nprepare  for  a  war,  and  the  fact  was  well  adapted  to \ncarry  dismay  among  the  members  as  they  contem- \nplated the  condition  of  the  colonial  finances  ;  but  he \namazed  them  now  by  bringing  before  them,  under \nthe  seal  of  secrecy,  a  scheme  for  the  capture  of  the \n\"  Gibraltar  of  America,\"  as  Louisburg  was  called. \nHe  told  them  all  that  he  had  learned  from  Vauehan \nand  the  escaped  prisoners,  and  added  that  he  had \nasked  for  a  fleet  from  England  to  \"  defend  Annap- \nolis,\" and  had  written  to  Commodore  Warren,  then \ncommanding  the  forces  in  the  West  Indies,  asking \nhim  to  take  some  of  his  vessels  thither.  The  court \nwas  naturally  astonished  ;  the  proposition  that  Mas- \nsachusetts should  send  out  an  expedition  against  a \nplace  so  well  fortified  was  preposterous.     The  mat- \n\n\n246         TESTED   AND   NOT  FOUND   WANTING. \n\nter  was  submitted  to  a  committee,  which  reported \nthat  the  undertaking  was  altogether  beyond  the \npower  of  the  province,  and  that,  if  it  were  possible, \nthere  was  not  enough  money  in  the  treasury  to  per- \nmit of  entering  upon  the  project.  The  matter  was \ndropped  ;  but  one  of  the  members,  who  referred  to \nit  in  his  domestic  worship,  in  a  moment  of  inadver- \ntency, was  the  means  of  bringing  it  again  to  public \nnotice,  upon  which  the  people  became  excited  about \nit.  The  governor,  we  may  be  sure,  took  no  pains  to \nallay  the  interest  ;  in  fact,  it  is  thought  that  he  en- \ncouraged it,  and  in  consequence  a  petition  was  pre- \nsented to  the  court  from  merchants  in  Boston  and \nelsewhere  urging  the  undertaking  of  the  enterprise. \nA  committee  now  reported  in  favor  of  it,  and  the \ncourt  approved  the  report  by  a  single  vote  ;  though \neven  this  majority  would  have  been  wiped  out  had \none  of  the  delegates  not  fallen  and  broken  his  leg \nwhen  on  his  way  to  the  meeting,  where  he  intended \nto  oppose  the  scheme. \n\nWhen  the  plan  was  once  adopted  it  was  entered \nupon  with  enthusiasm,  and  the  citizens  of  Boston \nand  the  towns  about  vied  with  one  another  in  mak- \ning preparations.  Business  was  dull ;  seamen  were \nunemployed  ;  provisions  were  abundant,  thanks  to  a \ngood  harvest  ;  and  when  it  was  known  that  William \nPepperell,  of  Kittery,  had  taken  the  position  of  com- \nmander of  the  expedition,  grave  deacons  and  justices \nof  the  peace  presented  themselves  ready  to  officer \nthe  regiments  ;  while  rich  farmers,  mechanics,  and \nenthusiastic  Protestants,  desirous  of  wiping  away \nthe  popish  French  from  the  northern  region,  volun- \n\n\nHOW  THEY   TOOK   LOUISBURG.  247 \n\nteered  to  take  places  in  the  ranks.  After  a  day  of \nfasting  and  prayer  the  fleet  started  for  its  foolhardy \nenterprise  in  March,  1745.  On  the  seventeenth  of \nJune  the  garrison  surrendered,  the  victorious  New \nEnglanders  marched  in,  and  the  Catholic  chapel  was \noccupied  for  religious  worship  by  Protestants.  The \ncolonists  were  much  elated  by  this  success,  which, \nhowever,  was  more  creditable  to  their  daring  than  to \ntheir  judgment  or  their  military  skill. \n\nGovernor  Shirley  had  given  directions  that  the \nfleet  should  sail  through  wintry  seas,  to  a  harbor \nthat  its  pilots  had  not  explored  ;  should  meet  after \ndark,  effect  a  landing  in  spite  of  the  surf,  march \nthree  miles  through  woods  and  bogs,  and  then  sim- \nply scale  the  stone  walls  and  take  the  place  !  When \nthe  fortunes  of  war  placed  him  inside  of  the  fortress, \nPepperell  saw,  of  course,  the  futility  of  such  wild \nplans  as  these.  The  joyful  news  reached  Boston  on \nthe  morning  of  the  third  of  July,  and  the  exultant \npopulace  kept  holiday  with  earnestness  that  night \ndid  not  repress.  England  showed  the  same  jubilant \nsymptoms,  and  Pepperell  was  made  a  baronet,  being \nthe  first  native  American  to  receive  that  distinction. \nThe  colonists  were  lost  to  reason,  and  visionary \nplans  were  made  for  the  capture  of  all  Canada,  plans \nwhich  the  British  ministry  deemed  too  grand,  fearing \nthat  the  conquest  of  a  country  so  vast  might  give \nrise  to  too  strong  a  sentiment  of  independence  in \nthe  Americans. \n\nThe  colony  paid  the  price  of  victory  in  a  greatly \nincreased  public  debt,  and  all  institutions  and  persons \nthat  depended  upon  incomes  found  themselves  in  a \n\n\n248        TESTED   AND  NOT  FOUND  WANTING. \n\ncondition  of  distress,  for  the  currency  depreciated \nanew  to  an  alarming  extent.  Clergymen  and  officers \nemployed  by  government  felt  the  depreciation  keenly, \nand  the  governor  informed  the  court  that  many  of \nthe  ministers  would  probably  be  forced  to  betake \nthemselves  to  secular  occupations  for  a  livelihood.* \nTrade  degenerated  into  barter,  and  sharp  practices, \nwhich  many  felt  necessary  in  order  that  they  should \nincrease  their  incomes  to  the  utmost,  threatened  to \nmake  the  whole  body  of  the  people  corrupt.  Parlia- \nment at  last  came  to  the  rescue  and  British  gold \nwas  seen  in  Boston  streets,  sent  over  in  settlement \nof  an  equitable  claim  which  the  ministry  recognized \non  account  of  the  efforts  of  the  Americans  in  a \ncommon  cause.  The  war  had,  indeed,  been  brought \nupon  them  rather  by  European  complications  than \nby  any  reason  touching  the  needs  of  the  colonies. \nIt  was  four  years,  however,  before  the  distress  was \nalleviated.  Then  the  financial  troubles  which  had \nso  long  perplexed  legislators  and  people  were \nsettled.  In  September,  1749,  the  money  for  this \npurpose  arrived  at  the  Boston  wharves  in  hundreds \nof  casks  and  chests,  containing  Spanish  dollars \nand  coins  of  copper.  It  is  much  to  the  credit  of \nThomas  Hutchinson,  then  Speaker  of  the  House, \nthat  through  his  efforts  this  coin  was,  with  the  ap- \n\n*  The  ministers  were  probably  not  all  in  this  danger.  Some  may \nhave  had  the  foresight  oi  the  Rev.  Nicholas  Gilman  (H.  C.  1724), \nwho,  when  he  was  settled  over  a  parish  at  Durham,  N.  H.,  made  out \n\"  A  Carnal  Scheme,\"  in  which  he  put  down  in  detail  the  supplies \nthat  were  to  be  furnished  him,  especially  stipulating  that  in  case  the \ncurrency  should  depreciate  his  nominal  income  should  increase  in  the \nsame  ratio.      \"  The  Gilman  Family,\"  by  Arthur  Gilman,  page  59. \n\n\nBOSTON  INFLUENCES   THE   COLONIES.       249 \n\nproval  of  the  governor,  set  apart  for  the  payment \nof  the  provincial  bills,  and  that  thus  the  embar- \nrassnnents  of  fifty  years  of  paper  money  were  done \naway,  and  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  afterwards \nMassachusetts  was  blessed  with  a  solid  medium  of \nexchange.  Rhode  Island  and  Connecticut,  which \ndid  not  at  this  time  reform  their  currency,  felt  a \nshock  in  their  trade  from  which  it  took  long  to \nrecover. \n\nWe  have  now  to  notice  the  influence  of  Boston  in \nthe  direction  of  self-government  in  the  colonies  in \ngeneral.  In  the  year  1690,  when  the  news  of  the \nmassacre  at  Schenectady  reached  the  Bay,  Governor \nBradstreet  urged  upon  the  other  colonies  the  neces- \nsity of  providing  immediately  for  common  defense, \nand  the  general  court  of  Massachusetts  caused  let- \nters to  be  written  to  the  governors  inviting  them  to \nsend  delegates  to  a  meeting  to  be  held  at  New  York. \nWilliam  Stoughton  and  Samuel  Sewall  of  Boston \nwere  commissioned  from  Massachusetts,  and  in  ac- \ncordance with  the  plan  laid  down  by  their  governor \nthey  there  met  the  others.  On  the  first  of  May  an \nagreement  was  signed  to  raise  a  force  for  the  pur- \npose, \"  by  the  help  of  Almighty  God,  of  subduing \nthe  French  and  Indian  enemies.\"  This  was  the  first \ntime  that  the  colonists  had  held  a  congress.  The \nseed  thus  dropped  (it  was  during  the  interval  just \nafter  Andros  had  been  banished  from  Boston)  was \ndestined  to  bear  fruit  nearly  two  generations  after; \nthough  there  were  to  be  important  intermediate \nsteps  before  a  union  could  actually  be  formed.  In \n1698    William    Penn    presented    a    plan    for   united \n\n\n250        TESTED  AND  NOT  FOUND  WANTING. \n\naction ;  and  from  time  to  time  the  different  govern- \nors met  or  sent  delegates  to  meetings  for  consultation \nupon  occasions  of  common  danger.  The  people \ngenerally  were  slowly  learning  lessons  of  self-govern- \nment ;  but,  singularly  enough,  it  was  not  from  them- \nselves but  from  the  British  ministry  that  the  motion \nfor  a  general  congress  next  came.  The  Board  of \nTrade  invited  a  meeting,  that  was  held  at  Albany, \nJune  19,  1754,  at  which  the  delegates  of  most  note \nwere  Thomas  Hutchinson,  of  Massachusetts,  and \nBenjamin  Franklin,  then  of  Philadelphia.  Franklin \nand  Shirley  had  discussed  the  subject  of  colonial \nunion  at  Boston  earlier  in  the  year  without  coming \nto  common  ground,  and  Franklin  had  published  in \nhis  paper*  a  rough  picture  of  a  snake  cut  into  thir- \nteen pieces,  accompanied  by  the  motto:  \"  Unite  or \ndie  !  \"  No  plan  presented  at  Albany  found  general \nacceptance,  the  delegates  being  too  positively  di- \nvided between  prerogative  men  and  independents,  f \nand  the  subject  was  dropped  for  the  time. \n\nIn  1755,  Governor  Shirley,  the  most  prominent \npolitical  character  in  the  colonies,  met  a  number  of \nroyal    governors    at   Alexandria,   and   with    General \n\n*  The  press  was  now  becoming  very  important  in  American  history. \nIt  dropped  its  fresh  intelligence  and  its  stirring  appeals  into  a  thou- \nsand minds  at  the  same  moment,  and  gave  the  same  impulse  to  each \nof  the  thousand.  We  shall  see  with  what  eminent  skill  it  was  used \nby  Samuel  Adams  and  those  who  knew  its  power  in  the  preliminary \nstages  of  the  Revolution. \n\nf  The  origin  of  the  two  parties,  patriots  and  prerogative  men,  is \ndated  from  16S3,  and  the  controversy  between  them  did  not  end  until \nAmerica  was  free  from  Britain.  There  had  been  the  same  difference \nin  earlier  times  between  those  who  stood  for  all  the  privileges  of  the \ncharter  and  those  who  sided  with  the  king  and  Parliament. \n\n\n.;  -fi \n\n\n^m>..      o^ \n\n\n< \n\n\nz \no \n\n\nEd \nZ \n\nO \n\n\n1:4 \n< \n\n\n2 \n\n\nZ \n\n(4 \nen \n\nA< \n\nW \nX \nH \n\na \n\no \n\nS \nw \n\nH \n\nz \n\n\n252        TESTED  AND  NOT  FOUND  WANTING. \n\nBraddock,  then  commander-in-chief  of  His  Majesty's \nforces,  planned  the  quadruple  scheme  for  the  con- \nquest of  the  French  by  campaigns  respectively \nagainst  Ohio  and  the  Northwest,  Crown  Point,  Fort \nNiagara,  and  Nova  Scotia, — for  Louisburg  and  the \nregion  about  had  been  restored  to  France  by  the \ntreaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  In  putting  this  great \nscheme  into  practice,  Braddock  was  defeated  and \nkilled  ;  Shirley  failed  at  Niagara  ;  John  Winslow,  of \nBoston,  effected  the  pitiful  carrying  away  of  the  poor \nAcadians;  and  Sir  William  Johnson  accomplished \nnothing  at  Crown  Point.  Shirley,  who  had  become \ncommander-in-chief  upon  the  death  of  Braddock,  was \nsuperseded  after  his  disastrous  campaign,  and  was \nrecalled  to  England  in  the  autumn  of  1756.  When \nLouisburg  had  been  acquired,  it  was  necessary  to \nprotect  it,  and  as  a  very  large  number  of  soldiers  had \ndied  there,  in  consequence  of  a  severe  winter,  Gov- \nernor Shirley  \"  impressed  \"  such  seamen  as  he  could \nfind  on  the  Boston  wharves,  and  sent  them,  much \nagainst  their  will,  down  to  the  dreary  land  of  colds \nand  disease.  This  simply  irritated  the  people  ;  but \nwhen  the  testy  Commodore  Knowles,  who  had  co- \noperated with  Pepperell,  arrived  in  the  harbor  and \nproceeded  to  fill  the  places  of  some  deserters  by \ncarrying  away  mariners  from  the  vessels  moored  at \nthe  wharves  and  men  peacefully  at  work  building \nships,  he  threw  the  citizens  into  a  flame  of  anger. \nBoston  was  not  familiar,  as  London  was,  with  this \nhard  and  arbitrary  custom,  and  the  bereaved  families \nof  the  impressed  men  cried  to  the  court,  which  con- \nvened that  day,  for  revenge.     The  mob  armed  them- \n\n\nIMPRESSMENTS   CAUSE   IRRITATION.         253 \n\nselves  with  sticks  and  clubs  and  pitch-mops,  and,  in \ntheir  rage,  caught  an  innocent  lieutenant,  who  hap- \npened to  be  ashore,  and  threatened  him  with \nvengeance.  They  surrounded  Governor  Shirley's \ndwelling,  where  it  was  said  that  some  officers  were ; \nthey  filled  the  yard  ;  they  seized  a  sheriff  who  tried \nto  calm  them,  and  carried  him  off  to  the  stocks, \nwhere  he  furnished  them  a  little  merriment,  and  put \nthem  in  a  frame  of  mind  more  ready  for  dinner  than \nfor  blood.  When  ^dusk  fell  upon  the  town,  another \ncrowd  of  several  thousand  persons  gathered  about \nthe  town-house  ;  bricks  and  stones  were  thrown \nthrough  the  windows  into  the  apartment  in  which \nthe  council  was  sitting,  and  quiet  was  not  restored \nuntil  the  governor  appeared  at  a  balcony  and  ex- \npressed his  disapproval  of  the  impressment,  and  his \nintention  to  obtain  the  freedom  of  the  men  that  had \nbeen  arrested.  The  mob  demanded  the  seizure  and \nrestraint  of  the  officers  in  town,  and  the  governor \nwas  so  much  alarmed  that  he  retired  to  his  house, \nwhere  the  mob  soon  appeared  with  a  boat,  supposed \nto  belong  to  one  of  the  ships,  and  proposed  to  burn \nit  on  the  spot.  On  consideration  of  the  danger  to  the \ntown,  this  boat,  which  proved  to  belong  to  quite \na  different  vessel,  was  burned  elsewhere.  The  gov- \nernor retreated  to  the  Castle  for  safety  ;  Commodore \nKnowles,  in  his  blunt  and  reckless  fashion,  threat- \nened to  bombard  the  town  ;  and  Captain  Erskine,  of \nthe  Canterbury,  and  other  officers  were  arrested  by \nthe  authorities.  The  military  was  aroused  by  Shir- \nley, and  Boston  was  thronged  with  men  from  Cam- \nbridge, Roxbury,  and  other  towns,  many  of  whom \n\n\n254         TESTED   AND   NOT  FOUND   WANTING. \n\nhad  never  carried  a  gun.  The  governor  was  escorted \nby  them  to  his  house  with  great  parade,  the  people \nhaving  expressed  in  town-meeting  at  once  their  sense \nof  their  insults  and  injuries,  and  their  desire  that \ntumultuous  and  riotous  acts  should  be  stopped.  The \nHouse  also  indicated  its  determination  to  stand  by \nthe  governor,  and  to  make  exertions  to  have  the \nwrongs  redressed.  The  upshot  of  the  tempest, \nwhich  was  indeed  very  threatening,  was  that  the \nirascible  Knowles  released  most  ,of  those  whom  he \nhad  impressed,  and  sailed  out  to  sea,  greatly  to  the \nrelief  of  Boston. \n\nGovernor  Shirley  is  to  be  remembered  for  another \nreason.  At  the  beginning  of  the  year  1752,  one \nCharles  Paxton,  a  native  of  America,  was  commis- \nsioned as  Surveyor  of  the  Port  of  Boston.  He  was  a \nman  of  energy,  who  had  obtained  his  office  by  pur- \nchase, for  the  purpose  of  making  his  fortune.  The \nof^cers  of  the  crown  at  the  time  openly  allowed \nsmuggling,  and  a  large  trade  had  grown  up,  in  con- \ntravention of  the  Molasses  Law,  or  Sugar  Law,  as  it \nwas  indifferently  called,  which  (1733)  laid  a  duty  on \nmolasses,  sugar,  rum,  etc.  This  law  was  felt  to \nbe  so  unnatural,  that  scarcely  any  attempts  had  been \nmade  to  carry  it  into  execution,*  and  of^cers  of  His \nMajesty's  customs  service  accumulated  fortunes  by \nconniving  at  the  importation  of  contraband  goods, \ndividing  the  ill-gotten  gain  with  their  English \npatrons,  to  whom  they  were  indebted  for  the  oppor- \ntunity  of  wrenching   it  from  the  merchants.     The \n\n*  See  \"The  Rise  of  the  Republic,\"  by  Richard  Frothingham, \npage  163. \n\n\nGENERAL    WARRANTS  GIVE    TROUBLE.       255 \n\nindependent  people  were  indignant  at  the  thought \nthat  England,  supposed  to  be  bankrupted  by  its  late \nheavy  war  with  France,  was  determined  to  make \nAmerica  pay  a  part  of  her  indebtedness.  The  cus- \ntoms officers  aroused  them  still  more  by  demanding \nof  Governor  Shirley  general  warrants,  authorizing \nthem  to  enter  any  house,  shop,  cellar,  warehouse, \nroom,  or  other  place  in  which  they  might  suspect \nprohibited  goods  would  be  found,  and,  in  case  of  re- \nsistance, to  break  open  doors,  chests,  trunks,  or  other \npackages,  and  take  the  goods  to  His  Majesty's  ware- \nhouse for  examination.  Hutchinson  considered  it \nextraordinary  that  Shirley,  who  was  a  lawyer  by \neducation  and  a  man  of  sense,  should  have  given \nsuch  authority,  and  expressed  the  belief  that  the \nwrits  had  no  legal  value.  When  Shirley  learned  (in \n1752)  that  his  warrants  were  pronounced  illegal,  he \ndiscontinued  them ;  but  they  were  issued  by  the \nSuperior  Court,  on  application  of  the  revenue  officers. \nThis,  Judge  Sewall  thought,  was  also  illegal,  though \nit  was  not  disputed  that  the  court  might  issue  a \nwarrant  authorizing  search  of  a  particular  place \nmentioned,  in  which  there  was  ground  to  suppose \ncontraband  goods  were  to  be  found.  The  \"general\" \ncharacter  was  objected  to.  These  warrants  were \nsimilar  to  the  writs  of  assistance  issued  by  the  Eng- \nlish Court  of  Exchequer,  and  their  legality  was  ac- \ncepted in  the  mother-country.  Much  more  irritation \nwas  caused  by  them  a  little  later  in  Boston. \n\n\nXIX. \n\n\nA   MALTSTER   ENTERS   POLITICS. \n\n\nWhen  Samuel  Adams  left  college  he  began  to \nprepare  himself  to  practise  law  ;  but  he  soon  turned \nto  commerce  and  entered  the  counting-room  of  a \nprominent  merchant,  though  he  had  no  taste  for \ntrade.  Leaving  this  pursuit  in  turn,  he  began  busi- \nness for  himself  upon  money  given  him  by  his  father, \nall  of  which  he  managed  to  lose,  and  then  he  joined \nhis  father  in  carrying  on  a  malt-house  on  Purchase \nStreet.  He  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-three  when \nthe  triumphant  soldiers  from  Louisburg  brought \nhome  the  iron  cross*  which  they  wrenched  from  the \nchapel  in  that  stronghold,  and  when  the  tumultuous \ncrowds  in  Boston's  streets  celebrated  the  victory \nprobably  no  one  rejoiced  more  heartily  than  he. \nHis  father  was  prominent  in  all  public  affairs,  and \nwas  a  member  of  the  military  committees  of  the \nlegislature,  while  the  son,  though  looked  upon  as  a \nthriftless  person,  was  making  himself  felt  in  the \nclubs  and  the  newspapers.  Three  years  after  the \nvictory  the  father  died,  and  the  following  year  the \n\n*  This  cross,  freshly  gilded,  now  stands  over  the  principal  sntrance \nto  the  Library  of  Harvardljjiiversity. \n\n256 \n\n\nJOHN   HANCOCK, \nAfter  the  Portrait  by  Copley  in  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts  (1737-1793). \n\n257 \n\n\n258  A    MALTSTER  ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\nson  married  and  settled  down  in  Purchase  Street, \nnominally  to  attend  to  the  malt-house. \n\nAt  the  time  of  the  Louisburg  rejoicings  a  younger \nman,  James  Otis,  who  had  graduated  at  Harvard  the \nyear  that  Adams  took  his  second  degree,  began  also \nto  study  law,  and  he  did  not,  like  Adams,  give  it  up. \nHe  began  to  practise  at  Plymouth  in  due  time,  and \nhe  was  laboring  there  in  his  vocation  at  the  time \nthat  Adams  married.  Younger  than  either  of  these \nmen — fifteen  years  younger  than  Adams — there \nwas  John  Hancock,  just  ready  to  enter  Harvard \nCollege,  in  1749,  whose  home  was  in  Quincy.  He \nwas  destined,  a  little  later,  to  be  identified  with  the \ncontest  in  which  both  Adams  and  Otis  were  soon  to \nbe  engaged,  and  by  his  considerable  inherited  wealth \nto  serve  it  effectively. \n\nThomas  Pownall,  the  next  royal  governor,  reached \nBoston  in  August,  1757,  while  the  last  French  and \nIndian  War  was  in  progress,  at  a  time  when  Boston \nwas  stirred  by  news  of  the  capture  of  Fort  William \nHenry  under  circumstances  of  barbarity  which  spread \ndismay  throughout  all  the  northern  provinces,  and \nespecially  gave  pain  to  Boston,  because  many  of  the \ntroops  had  been  sent  from  that  place.  There  was  a \ngeneral  feeling  of  despair,  and  this  was  intensified \nwhen  the  governor  received  a  letter  from  Captain \nChristie,  in  command  at  Albany,  dated  August  lOth \nand  nth,  couched  in  these  frantic  terms:  \"For \nGod's  sake  exert  yourselves  to  save  a  province  ;  New \nYork  itself  may  fall;  save  a  country;  prevent  the \ndownfall  of  the  British  government  upon  this  conti- \nnent !  \"     This  letter  was  well  calculated  to  spread \n\n\nTHE   FALL    OF  NEW  FRANCE,  259 \n\nalarm,  and,  in  fact,  all  Massachusetts  was  aroused, \nfor  it  was  thought  that  there  would  be  a  prompt \nadvance  upon  both  New  York  and  the  Bay  State. \nTwenty  thousand  militiamen  were  soon  under  arms \nunder  command  of  Pepperell.  The  fortunes  of  the \nwar  are  not  the  subject  of  these  pages  ;  suffice  it  to \nsay  that  Louisburg,  Ticonderoga,  Crown  Point, \nQuebec,  and  Montreal  were  all  taken  by  1760,  and \nthat  there  was  great  rejoicing  in  Boston.  In  cele- \nbrating the  fall  of  Quebec  forty-five  tar  barrels,  two \ncords  of  wood,  and  fifty  pounds  of  powder,  besides \nother  combustibles,  were  burned  on  Copp's  Hill. \nThe  Peace  of  Paris,  in  1763,  marked  the  close  of  the \nFrench  and  Indian  wars,  which,  for  nearly  fourscore \nyears,  had  filled  the  land  with  horror,  and  made  the \nsettlers  on  the  frontiers  and  in  many  a  Nev/  England \nhamlet  familiar  with  savage  butchery. \n\nIt  was  the  good-fortune  of  Governor  Pownall  to \narrive  in  Boston  at  the  time  of  distress,  when  all \nminor  matters  were  forgotten  in  thoughts  of  the \nnecessities  of  self-preservation,  and  to  leave  when \nthe  successes  at  the  close  of  the  long  struggle  with \nFrance  made  it  certain  that  the  colonists  were  no \nlonger  to  be  menaced  by  that  enemy,  and  that  her \ndominion  was  soon  to  be  extinguished  on  the  conti- \nnent. The  people  were,  however,  uneasy,  and  ready \nto  magnify  every  act  that  could  possibly  be  con- \nstrued as  antagonistic  to  their  interests,  and  to  with- \nstand the  execution  of  any  scheme  that  could  be \nmade  to  appear  as  a  contravention  of  their  rights \nand  privileges  as  British  subjects  living  under  a \ncharter  government. \n\n\n26o  A    MALTSTER  ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\nWhen  Shirley  had  been  relieved  of  the  command \nof  His  Majesty's  forces  in  America,  the  commission \nwas  given  to  Lord  Loudoun,  and  soon  after  Governor \nPownall  came  to  his  ofifice  there  arose  a  conflict  be- \ntween this  ofificer  and  the  Massachusetts  legislature. \nLord  Loudoun  sent  soldiers  to  Boston,  and  the  officers \ncalled  upon  the  justices  to  allow  them  to  be  quar- \ntered on  the  inhabitants,  according  to  the  terms  of \nan  act  of  parliament.  The  justices  refused  ;  Lord \nLoudoun  became  furious,  and  threatened  ;  but  all  to \nno  purpose,  the  general  court  insisted  that  the  act  of \nParliament  did  not  affect  the  colonies,  and,  after  a \nshort  but  fierce  quarrel,  the  court  came  off  victorious. \nThe  troops  were  quartered  at  the  Castle,  and  not \nlong  afterwards  Lord  Loudoun  was  relieved  of  his \ncommand,  though  not  until  another  angry  quarrel \nseemed  imminent  between  him  and  the  court. \n\nIt  was  evident  that  the  strong  sentiment  of  loyalty, \nwhich  Cotton  Mather  said  was  felt  in  Boston  in  1726, \nhad  become  much  weakened  by  August,  1760,  when \nFrancis  Bernard  arrived,  though  as  the  commissioned \ngovernor  he  was  received  with  respectful  parade  and \ndue  ceremony.  Governor  Pownall,  who  was  a  man \nof  intelligence  and  cultivation,  had,  during  his  short \nadministration,  made  himself  very  pleasing  to  most \nof  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  and  of  the  colony,  and, \nwhen  he  went  away  he  carried  with  him  a  mass  of \ninformation  in  regard  to  the  province,  which  he  used \nin  writing  works  on  the  subject.  From  1768  to \n1780  he  was  a  member  of  parliament,  and  in  that \nposition  he  uttered  warnings  against  the  measures \nopposed  to  the  interests  of  the  Americans,  and  fore- \n\n\nGOVERNOR   P  OWN  ALL'S   SAGACLTY.  26 1 \n\ntold  the  fact  that  our  country  was  destined  to  take \nits  place  among  the  nations,  a  prophecy  which,  as  he \nlived  until  1805,  he  saw  fulfilled.  Of  all  the  Eng- \nlishmen who  held  that  the  Americans  had  rights \nthat  ought  to  be  respected,  Pownall  was  the  most \nclear  and  definite  in  his  views  and  in  his  expressions. \nHe  was  the  first  person  to  call  American  citizens \n\"  sovereigns,\"  and  though  Governor  Shirley  thought \nthat  centuries  would  pass  before  the  Americans \nwould  \"  grow  restive,  and  disposed  to  throw  ofT  their \ndependency  upon  their  mother-country,\"  Pownall \nsaw  the  great  possibilities  of  the  New  World,  and \nprophesied  that  the  Americans  were  soon  to  be  an \nindependent  sovereign  people,  with  which  it  would \nbe  well  for  England  to  make  sure  of  friendly  rela- \ntions. He  expressed  high  hopes  for  the  \"  liberties \nof  America,\"  and  for  the  country  itself,  which  he \nthought  would  be  \"  an  asylum  one  day  or  another  to \na  remnant  of  mankind  who  wish  and  deserve  to  live \nwith  political  liberty.\" \n\nGovernor  Hutchinson  says  in  his  history  that \nspeculative  men  had  figured  in  their  minds  \"  an \nAmerican  empire,\"  but  that  they  placed  it  at  such  a \ndistant  age  that,  like  Governor  Shirley,  they  did  not \nthink  that  any  one  then  living  could  expect  to  see  it. \nIn  this  respect  Governor  Pownall  was  far  in  advance \nof  his  English  contemporaries,  and  comparatively \nfew  in  America  even  were,  up  to  this  time,  able  to \ndiscern  with  like  distinctness  the  trend  of  affairs.  It \nsoon  became  apparent,  however.  The  antagonism \nthat  had  long  been  strengthening  between  the  Bos- \ntonians  and  the  officers  of  the  crown  began  to  show \n\n\n262  A    MALTSTER   BAXTERS  POL/ TICS. \n\nitself  in  tlie  language  of  the  town,  for  those  who \nwere  attached  to  the  principles  of  the  house  of \nHanover,  who  approved  the  views  of  the  ancient \nwhigs,  and  felt  that  the  revolution  which  brought \nWilliam  and  Mary  to  the  throne  was  a  benefit  to  the \npeople  of  England  and  America,  were  called  whigs, \nwhile  the  small  number,  comprising  the  officers  of \nthe  king  and  those  who  supported  them  and  the \nroyal  prerogative  against  the  \"  rights  of  the  people,\" \nwere  branded  as  tories.  The  mass  of  the  inhabi- \ntants of  Boston,  and  of  the  entire  colony  in  fact, \nlooked  upon  the  English  whigs  as  right,  and  consid- \nered a  tory  to  be  a  sympathizer  with  despotism  and \nwrong. \n\nWhile  this  feeling  was  rising  in  Boston,  Mr.  Adams \nwas  by  no  means  a  silent  observer  of  the  progress  of \nevents.  He  saw  that  a  storm  was  coming,  and  felt \nthat  a  responsibility  rested  upon  every  American  to \nstand  for  the  right  as  he  saw  it.  His  speech,  on  tak- \ning his  second  degree  at  Cambridge,  has  already  been \nreferred  to  ;  it  was  but  a  part  of  a  methodical  scheme \nof  action  that  he  had  marked  out  for  himself.  He \nplainly  saw  that  the  state  must  look  to  her  educated \nyoung  men  for  direction  and  support  in  the  coming \nemergency,  and  he  took  every  favorable  opportunity \nto  lay  his  views  before  such  youth  of  parts  as  he \ncould  find.  Among  the  young  men  whom  Adams \nthus  brought  out  to  help  his  cause,  were  Otis  and \nHancock,  who  have  been  already  mentioned,  besides \nJohn  Adams,  of  Quincy,  afterwards  President  of  the \nUnited  States;  Dr.  Joseph  Warren,  afterwards  ma- \njor-general   of  the    colonial   militia,   and   martyr  at \n\n\nTHE   GREAT    WIRE-PULLER.  263 \n\nBunker  Hill ;  Josiah  Quincy,  called  by  John  Adams \n\"  the  Boston  Cicero,\"  a  man  of  marked  moral  cour- \nage, who  wrote  vigorous  essays  against  the  British \nministry,  and  stirred  the  Bostonians  by  his  powerful \neloquence  ;  and  Benjamin  Church,  who,  though  he \nproved  recreant  to  the  American  cause  afterwards, \nwas  perhaps  as  active  and  popular  before  his  defec- \ntion as  either  Hancock  or  Warren,  or  even  as  Adams \nhimself.  Adams  did  not  make  himself  unduly  promi- \nnent, but  put  forward  one  or  another  of  those  upon \nwhom  he  trusted,  as  from  time  to  time  he  saw \nthat  their  peculiar  qualifications  made  their  services \nuseful. \n\nIt  was  not  only  in  this  way  that  Adams  urged  his \ncause.  He  became  a  constant  and  vigorous  contrib- \nutor to  the  newspapers  of  the  day,  and  for  fifty  years \nPrincipiis  Obsta,  A  Religious  Politician,  Valerius  Pop- \nlicola,  Vindcx,  Candidus,  Ait  American,  A  Son  of \nLiberty,  Alfred,  Sincerus,  Ccdant  Anna  Togcv,  A \nLayman,  Determinatus,  Populus,  A  Bostonian,  even \nA  Chatterer,  or  A  Tory,  were  the  ostensible  authors \nof  the  sarcastic,  sharp,  forcible,  patriotic,  argumenta- \ntive, indignant  papers  that  his  hand  wrote,  often  by \nthe  light  of  the  candle  that  passers-by  found  burning \nin  his  librarv  window  late  in  the  nigrht.  Nor  did \nMr.  Adams  stop  with  this  wonderfully  prolific  pub- \nlic correspondence.  As  early  as  1747,  during  the \ntime  of  Governor  Shirley,  he  formed  a  club  with \nsome  of  his  political  friends,  (\"  ardent  young  rebels,\" \nHudson,  the  historian  of  American  journalism,  calls \nthem,)  the  object  of  which  was  to  present  to  the  peo- \nple   essays    on    public    affairs,  every  one    of    which \n\n\n264  A    MALTSTER  ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\nshould,  of  course,  strengthen  the  cause  that  they \nhad  at  heart.  The  Independent  Advertiser,  printed \nby  Rogers  &  Fowle,  became  the  medium  through \nwhich  these  essays  saw  the  Hght.  It  began  its  ca- \nreer January  4,  1748.  For  some  time  this  pioneer \nrevolutionary  paper  managed  to  avoid  collision  with \nthe  authorities,  but  it  was  not  at  the  expense  of  con- \nsistency, or  by  holding  back  one  whit  of  the  truth \nabout  the  nature  of  loyalty  or  the  rights  of  freemen, \nas  its  supporters  held  them.  Isaiah  Thomas,  who \nwas  a  well-known  printer  in  Boston  a  few  years  later, \nsaid  that  the  club  which  supported  the  Independent \nAdvertiser  was  composed  of  whigs  who  \"  advocated \nthe  rights  of  the  people  against  those  measures  of \ngovernment  which  were  supposed  to  infringe  upon \nthe  privileges  of  the  province  secured  by  charter.\" \n\nWe  can  scarcely  imagine  with  what  avidity  this \nlittle  sheet  was  welcomed  as  it  presented  itself  each \nweek  with  its  roughly  engraved  embellishment  at \nthe  head  of  columns  that  contained  a  few  items  of \nforeign  and  domestic  news,  accompanied  by  a  strong \ndose  of  argument  for  loyalty  and  against  sedition,  in \nfavor  of  \"  liberty,\"  and  against  any  form  of  govern- \nment that  did  not  provide  for  the  representation  of \nthe  people.  The  readers  were  assured  that,  as  no \nman  ought  to  be  abridged  of  his  liberty,  so  also  no \none  had  the  \"  right  to  give  up  or  even  part  with  any \nportion  of  it  \"  ;  that  multitudes  of  persons  have  not \neven  the  vestige  of  such  liberty,  \"  but  hold  their \nproperty  and  even  their  lives  by  no  other  tenure \nthan  the  sovereign  will  of  a  tyrant,  and  he  often  the \nworst  and  most  detestable  of  men  \"  ;  and  that  \"  our \n\n\nWHA  T  ADAMS  MEDITA  TED.  265 \n\ninvaluable  charter  secures  to  us  all  the  English  lib- \nerties, besides  which  we  have  some  additional  privi- \nleges which  the  common  people  there  [in  England] \nhave  not.\"  True  loyalty,  the  club  informs  its  read- \ners, cannot  subsist  in  an  arbitrary  government,  its \nobject  being  a  \"  good  legal  constitution,\"  which  con- \ndemns oppression  and  lawless  power,  and  allows  the \nsufferer  to  \"  remonstrate  his  grievances,\"  and  points \nout  \"  methods  of  relief  ivJicn  the  gentle  arts  of  per- \nsuasion have  lost  their  efficacy.''  Finally  the  Adver- \ntiser included  ad  capta^idum  arguments,  as,  for  exam- \nple, when  it  said  that  he  who  \"  despises  his  neigh- \nbor's happiness  because  he  wears  a  worsted  cap  or \nleathern  apron,  he  that  struts  immeasurably  above \nthe  lower  size  of  people  and  pretends  to  adjust  the \nrights  of  men  by  the  distinctions  of  fortune,  is  not \nover  loyal.\"  No  doubt  that  Adams  at  least  was  at \nthis  time  meditating  a  separation  of  the  colonies \nfrom  England,  and  the  suggestion  that  other  argu- \nments than  the  \"  gentle  arts  of  persuasion  \"  might \nbe  used  seems  to  indicate  that  he  was  ready  to  apply \nthem  in  case  of  necessity,  and  that  he  was  intention- \nally preparing  men's  minds  to  agree  with  him  when \nthe  time  for  action  should  arrive. \n\nOpposed  to  this  little  band  of  Bostonians  stood \nthe  governor,  Bernard,  and  his  lieutenant,  Thomas \nHutchinson,  both  dependent  upon  the  crown,  and \nnot  representatives  of  the  people  whom  they  gov- \nerned, though  Hutchinson  was  probably  attached  to \nthe  land  of  his  birth.  He  was  a  descendant  of  Anne \nHutchinson,  who  had  been  so  severely  dealt  with  by \nthe  Bostonians  in  the  time  of  Winthrop,  was  polite \n\n\n266  A    MALTSTER   ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\nand  intelligent,  and,  at  a  previous  period,  quite  pop- \nular with  the  people.  He  wrote  a  history  of  the \nprovince,  in  three  volumes,  which  is  remarkable  for \nthe  self-restraint  that  it  shows,  for  Hutchinson  was \ncalled  upon  to  bear  much  treatment  that  must  have \nappeared  extremely  harsh  to  him.  Both  the  gov- \nernor and  his  lieutenant  were  greedy  of  office  for  the \nwealth  that  they  expected  to  derive  from  it,  and \nthis  was  not  adapted  to  beget  in  them  traits  that \nwould  commend  them  to  the  colonists.  Besides \nbeing  lieutenant-governor,  Hutchinson  held  the  office \nof  governor  of  the  Castle,  was  a  member  of  the \nCouncil,  and  judge  of  Probate,  and  finally  took  the \noffice  of  chief-justice,  thus  combining  legislative,  ex- \necutive, and  judicial  functions  in  a  way  that  was \nconsidered  incongruous  and  monstrous.  Mr.  Otis \nseverely  criticised  Hutchinson  for  this,  and  said  that \nit  was  a  fundamental  maxim  that  the  legislative  and \njudicial  powers  should  be  kept  separate  ;  asserting \nthat  when  they  are  combined  in  one  person  the \ngovernment  is  hastening  fast  to  ruin,  and  its  mis- \nchief and  miseries  are  apt  to  be  \"  as  bad  as  those \nfelt  in  the  most  absolute  monarchy.\" \n\nIt  happened  that  James  Otis,  of  the  group  that \nsympathized  with  Adams,  was  the  one  first  to  come \ninto  conflict  with  Bernard  and  Hutchinson.  He  was \na  person  of  fiery  temper,  sensitive  nature,  and  fitful \npassions  ;  he  lacked  the  caution  and  cool  calculation \nof  Adams,  and  he  was  so  poorly  balanced  that  his \nmind  soon  gave  way  under  the  strain  of  the  exciting \ntimes.  Incapable  of  malice,  his  sympathetic  nature \ncaught   the   enthusiasm   of  the   circle    in   which    he \n\n\n(1725-1783-)     AT  THE  AGE  OF  THIRTY. \nAfter  a  portrait  by  Blackburn. \n\n267 \n\n\n268  A    MALSTER   ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\nhappened  to  be  ;  and  he  sometimes  took  up  a  cause \nof  which  he  repented,  which  made  his  course  appear \nat  times  irresolute  and  contradictory.  In  1761  Mr, \nOtis  was  employed  by  some  Boston  merchants,  who \nhad  been  affected  by  forfeitures  under  the  Molasses \nAct,  to  which  reference  has  been  made  in  a  former \nchapter,  to  appear  for  them  in  a  trial  brought  for  the \npurpose  of  settling  the  question  whether  the  provin- \ncial treasurer  might  not  demand  the  money  that  had \naccrued  to  the  colony  from  fines  collected  under  that \nact.  The  effort  of  Mr.  Otis  was  successful,  and  he \nwas  soon  after  engaged  in  a  much  more  important \ncause.  The  legality  of  the  writs  of  assistance  had \nbeen  called  in  question,  and  the  matter  was  now  to \ncome  before  the  court  for  decision.  James  Otis  then \nheld  the  profitable  office  of  advocate-general,  and  it \nwas  his  duty  to  support  the  cause  of  the  customs \nofficers  ;  but  he  believed  the  writs  to  be  illegal  and \n\"  tyrannical,\"  and  promptly  resigned,  to  argue  the \ncause  of  the  suffering  merchants,  though  it  must  be \nconfessed  that  these  merchants  had  themselves  been \ndoubtless  guilty  of  infringing  the  letter  of  the  law \nin  their  illicit  importations. \n\nThe  now  famous  trial  came  on  in  February,  1761, \nin  the  council-chamber  of  the  old  town-house  of \nBoston.  This  was  an  imposing  and  elegant  apart- \nment at  the  east  end  of  the  building,  ornamented \nwith  fine  full-length  portraits  of  Charles  the  Second \nand  James  the  Second.  Hutchinson,  who  had  just \nbeen  made  chief-justice,  presided,  and  there  were \nfour  associate-judges,  in  great  wigs,  their  persons \nadorned  with  scarlet  robes  and  broad  bands  ;  while \n\n\nOTIS  AGAINST   THE    WRITS.  269 \n\nabout  them  were  the  chief  citizens  and  the  officers \nof  the  crown,  all  of  whom  were  very  anxious  to  hear \nthe  arguments  on  the  subject,  for  everybody  felt  the \nimportance  of  the  occasion.  The  case  was  opened \nby  Jeremiah  Gridley,  who  was  king's  attorney.  He \nhad  been  the  instructor  of  Otis  in  his  younger  days, \nand  the  pupil  now  treated  him  with  respect  and \nesteem,  almost  with  affection,  while,  as  John  Adams \nsays,  with  some  exaggeration,  he  \"  confounded  all \nhis  authorities,  confuted  all  his  arguments,  and  re- \nduced him  to  silence.\" \n\nOtis  began  by  saying  that  he  had  been  asked  to \nexamine  the  subject  of  writs  of  assistance  ;  that  he \nhad  done  so  ;  and  that  the  result  was  that  he  had \ndetermined  to  oppose,  with  all  the  powers  and  facul- \nties that  God  had  given  him,  every  such  instrument \n\"  of  slavery  on  the  one  hand  and  villainy  on  the \nother.\"  He  explained  his  resignation  of  public  of- \nfice because  he  could  not  conscientiously  uphold  the \ncause  that  his  official  oath  would  have  obliged  him \nto  support,  and  added  that  \"  the  only  principles  of \npublic  conduct  that  are  worthy  of  a  gentleman  or  a \nman  are  to  sacrifice  ease,  health,  and  applause,  and \neven  life,  to  the  sacred  calls  of  his  country.\"  After \nthis  preamble  he  went  on  to  consider  the  rights  of \nman  in  a  state  of  nature,  the  rights  of  British  sub- \njects to  representation,  external  and  internal  taxes, \nthe  acts  of  trade,  the  navigation  act,  and  the  writs \nof  assistance,  as  designed  to  enforce  the  acts  of \ntrade.  He  described  the  tyranny  of  taxation  with- \nout representation,  and  in  treating  this  branch  of  his \ntheme   gave   full   scope   to   his  powerful   talent    for \n\n\n270  A   MALTSTER  ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\ndeclamation  and  invective.  He  emphasized  the \nmaxim  that  every  Englishman's  house  is  his  castle, \nand  showed  how  the  writs  made  it  possible  for  cus- \ntom-house officers  and  their  menials  to  destroy  this \nmost  essential  branch  of  British  liberty — the  freedom \nof  one's  home  ;  and  at  last  he  argued  that  the  writs \nwere  not  consistent  with  the  colonial  charter.  He \nclosed  his  speech  of  five  hours  with  a  reproach  of  the \nnation,  the  parliament,  and  the  king  for  their  \"  injus- \ntice, illiberality,  ingratitude,  and  oppression  \"  of  the \nAmericans,  in  a  style  of  oratory  that  John  Adams, \nwho  was  an  attentive  listener,  declares  he  never \nheard  equalled  in  this  or  any  other  country. \n\nAt  the  end  of  the  term,  Hutchinson  declared  that \nthe  court  was  not  satisfied  of  the  legality  of  the \nwrits,  but  that,  in  order  to  learn  the  practice  in  Eng- \nland, it  was  thought  best  to  continue  the  question \nuntil  the  next  term.  The  next  term  came  in  Novem- \nber, 1761,  and  the  legality  of  the  writs  was  sustained, \nwhereupon  the  general  court  reduced  the  annual \nappropriation  for  the  judges,  of  whom  Hutchinson \nwas  the  chief.  Upon  the  opening  of  the  legislature, \nGovernor  Bernard  recommended  the  members  to \n\"  give  no  attention  to  declamations  tending  to  pro- \nmote a  suspicion  of  the  civil  rights  of  the  people \nbeing  in  danger.\"  Mr.  Otis  had  just  been  elected  a \nmember,  and  it  was  thought  that  these  words  were \naimed  at  him  ;  the  representatives  therefore  replied \nthat  they  would  give  due  weight  to  the  words  of  the \ngovernor,  but  that  it  was  their  intention  to  see  for \nthemselves,  and  that  in  fact  they  did  not  observe  any \ncause  for  suspicion.     They  considered  the  governor's \n\n\nAN   UNWARRANTED   OUTLAY.  2/1 \n\ncommunication  highly  indecent  and  improper  ;  but \nthey  restrained  their  feeHngs  and  replied  in  words  of \ncalm  good  judgment.  Otis  had  now  put  himself \nforward,  and  was  recognized  as,  \"  the  great  incen- \ndiary of  New  England,\"  though  Samuel  Adams  was \nstanding  by  pouring  oil  on  the  flames  that  it  may  be \nsaid  he  himself  had  kindled. \n\nIn  the  summer  of  1762,  Governor  Bernard,  with \nthe  approval  of  the  council,  took  the  liberty,  during \na  recess  in  the  sessions  of  the  legislature,  to  expend \na  comparatively  trifling  sum  in  fitting  out  a  vessel \nto  quiet  the  fears  of  the  Boston  merchants,  who \nwere  alarmed  lest  the  French  should  make  advances \nupon  the  fisheries.  The  jealousy  of  the  opponents \nof  the  administration  led  to  a  remonstrance  against \nthe  governor's  unwarranted  outlay,  by  a  committee \nof  the  legislature,  of  which  Otis  was  chairman.  In \nthis  it  was  said  that  \"  no  necessity  can  be  sufificient \nto  justify  the  House  of  Representatives  in  giving  up \nsuch  a  privilege  ;  for  it  would  be  of  little  conse- \nquence to  the  people  whether  they  were  subject  to \nGeorge  or  Lewis,  the  king  of  Great  Britain  or  the \nFrench  king,  if  both  were  arbitrary,  as  both  would \nbe,  if  both  could  levy  taxes  without  a  parliament.\" \nWhen  this  passage  was  read,  a  member  cried  out, \n\"  Treason  !  treason  !  \"  and  there  was  an  excitement \nsimilar  to  that  which  occurred  in  the  Virginia  House \nof  Burgesses  three  years  later,  when  Patrick  Henry \nuttered  his  memorable  words  of  similar  import.  The \nrepresentatives  were  unreasonably  sensitive,  and  the \ngovernor  was  clearly  injudicious  in  stickling  for  the \nroyal  prerogative.     The  times  demanded  calm  con- \n\n\n2/2  A   MALTSTER  ENTERS  POLITICS. \n\nsideration  of  the  proprieties  and  necessities  of  the \ncase,  and  this  neither  Bernard  nor  Otis  was  prepared \nto  offer.  Otis,  indeed,  at  the  request  of  the  court, \nbut  without  waiting  for  its  approval,  pubhshed  \"  A \nVindication  of  the  House,\"  in  which  he  argued  with \nquaint  extravagance  that  the  punctiHousness  of  the \nrepresentatives  was  warranted,  and  laid  down  a  series \nof  political  maxims  in  some  respects  similar  to  the \narguments  used  by  Franklin  against  Governor  Shirley \nin  1754.  \"  This  production,\"  according  to  Dr.  Snow, \n\"  has  been  considered  the  original  source  from  which \nall  subsequent  arguments  against  taxation  were  de- \nrived.\"* Otis  asserted  that  God  had  made  all  men \nnaturally  equal ;  that  kings  were  made  for  the  good \nof  the  people,  and  not  the  people  for  them  ;  that  no \ngovernment  had  the  right  to  make  \"  hobby-horses, \nasses,  and  slaves\"  of  its  subjects,  nature  having \nmade  enough  of  the  two  former,  and  none  of  the \nlatter,  which  proves  them  unnecessary ;  and  he  ridi- \nculed the  governor's  sensitiveness,  while  he  applauded \nwarmly  all  outspoken  and  bold  resistance  to  \"  every \nsort  and  degree  of  usurped  power.\"  At  the  same \ntime  he  declared  that  plain  English  when  used  in \ncomplaints  of  grievances  was  not  dangerous  to \nthe  province. \n\n*  \"  History  of  Boston,\"  p.  253. \n\n\nXX, \n\n\nBOSTON   OPPOSES   A   TAX. \n\n\nThe  plantations  now  engaged  almost  the  whole \nthoughts  of  men  in  power  in  England,  and  of  the \nplaces  that  were  carefully  watched  Boston  stood \nfirst.  It  was  looked  upon  with  truth  as  a  centre  of \ndiscussion,  and  as  a  community  that  would  not  fail \nto  act  when  the  time  came  for  action.  The  people \nof  Boston  were  watchful,  too,  and  among  those  who \nwere  jealously  marked  by  the  \"  friends  of  freedom,\" \nthe  members  of  the  Church  of  England  were  promi- \nnent ;  for  every  officer  of  the  king,  from  the  highest \ndown,  was  presumably  a  member  of  that  body,  and \nsuspected  of  intriguing  for  its  establishment  in  the \nNew  World.  The  discussion  of  taxation  was  min- \ngled with  more  or  less  violent  debates  on  the  subject \nof  the  Establishment,  and  in  1763  these  grew  more \nexciting  than  ever.  Then  the  Reverend  Mr.  East \nApthorp,  rector  of  Christ  Church,  Cambridge,  who \nwas  said  to  be  \"  hot  from  Oxford,\"  discussed  the \npurposes  of  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the \nGospel  in  Foreign  Parts,  arguing  that  a  portion  of  its \nduty  was  to  give  the  \"  British  subjects  on  this  vast \ncontinent  the  means  of  public  religion,\"  whereas  the \nconversion  of  the  Indians  seemed  to  be  the  sole  ob- \n\n273 \n\n\n274  BOSTON  OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\nject  aimed  at  by  its  conductors.  The  mere  sugges- \ntion that  there  was  a  society,  a  part  of  the  object  of \nwhich  was  to  supplant  the  form  of  rehgion  estab- \nhshed  by  the  founders  of  the  colony,  and  to  bring \nin  a  sort  of  worship  that  the  fathers  had  opposed, \naroused  an  active  spirit  of  discussion,  which  before \nit  ended  involved  all  denominations  in  America,  and \nbrought  forward  the  then  aged  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson, \nand  others  in  Europe.  It  was  thought  that  if  parlia- \nment could  tax  the  colonies,  it  had  power  to  estab- \nlish the  Episcopal  form  of  worship,  and  thus  the \nquestion  became  one  of  religion  as  well  as  of  politics. \nThe  two  subjects  were  united  also  by  Dr.  Jonathan \nMayhew  of  the  West  Church,  one  of  the  most  out- \nspoken preachers  of  civil  liberty,  who  denied  that \nparliament  had  any  control  over  religion  in  Massa- \nchusetts, arguing  that  the  charter  conferred  absolute \n-authority  in  such  matters  upon  the  colonists.  Dr. \nMayhew,  then  a  young  man,  had  in  1750  delivered  a \ndiscourse  on  the  Sunday  following  the  anniversary \nof  the  execution  of  \"  King  Charles,  the  Martyr,\"  as \nhe  was  still  called  in  the  Prayer-Book,  in  which  he \ndiscussed  \"  unlimited  submission  and  non-resistance \nto  the  higher  powers,  with  some  reflections  on  the \nresistance  made  to  King  Charles  the  First,\"  in  much \nthe  same  spirit  that  Samuel  Adams  had  shown  seven \nyears  before  on  the  platform  at  Cambridge,  boldly \nand  eloquently  declaring  the  principle  of  free  civil \ngovernment.  It  has  been  called  \"  the  morning  gun \nof  the  Revolution.\" \n\nAll  Boston  was  soon  engaged  in  a  fervent  discus- \nsion of  topics  of  this  sort,  and  opinions  were  formed \n\n\nTHE   EXASPERATING  BOSTONIANS.  275 \n\nand  principles  established,  which  afterwards  united  the \ncitizens  firmly  upon  the  basis  of  entire  independence \nof  the  mother-country.  It  is  often  said  that  the \ncolonists  did  not  desire  this  political  independence  ; \nthat  they  loved  England  and  rejoiced  in  her  pros- \nperity ;  and  that  they  submitted  with  docility  to \ngross  abuses  and  high-handed  political  measures  in \na  way  that  proves  this  statement.  One  cannot  read \nthe  history  of  Boston  from  the  time  of  Winthrop  to \nthe  days  of  Samuel  Adams  without  seeing  that  the \nsame  spirit  filled  the  hearts  and  controlled  the  actions \nof  her  citizens  from  first  to  last.  Doubtless  they  all \nhad  the  interest  in  England's  past  that  is  still  felt \nby  enlightened  Americans ;  doubtless  they  were \nlong-suffering,  and  wished  to  keep  the  peace ;  but \nthere  can  be  no  mistake  in  asserting  that  their \nactions  were  exasperating  to  the  kings  and  their \nministers,  and  that  they  asserted  themselves  and \nclaimed  their  assumed  rights  under  the  charters  in  a \nway  which  made  it  unmistakable  that  nothing  less \nthan  practical  independence  would  ever  give  them \nsatisfaction.  The  only  wonder  is  that  the  supreme \ncontest  was  not  precipitated  sooner  than  it  was  ;  and \nthe  only  explanation  of  the  anomaly  is  found  in  the \nfact  that  the  sovereigns  were  so  much  occupied  at \none  time  and  another  with  matters  of  deep  signifi- \ncance at  home  that  it  was.  impracticable  for  them  to \ndeal  with  their  rampant  Boston  subjects  in  the \nstrong  manner  that  their  case  required.  The \n\"  causes \"  of  the  American  Revolution  generally \ngiven  would  not  have  been  sufficient  to  produce \nthat  great   upturning,  had  they  not  been  preceded \n\n\n276  BOSTON  OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\nby  years  and  years  of  struggle,  which  had  finally \nbrought  the  contestants  to  a  point  at  which  each \nwas  unyielding. \n\nIn  spite  of  these  facts,  it  required  all  the  unrivalled \nskill  of  Samuel  Adams  in  managing  men  to  keep  the \nfreemen  of  Boston  up  to  the  pitch  of  daring  indigna- \ntion and  rebellion  that  he  thought  necessary  for  his \npurposes  ;  and  it  may  be  reasonably  doubted  if  there \nwould  have  ever  been  any  independence  if  he  had \nnot  labored  in  season  and  out  of  season,  openly  and \nin  secret,  by  himself  and  through  others,  in  the  town \nand  the  colony,  and  in  the  other  colonies,  for  the  at- \ntainment of  an  end  that  he  had  determined  in  the \ncouncils  of  his  own  tenacious  will  should  be  accom- \nplished. It  was  he  who  years  before  dropped  the \nseed  into  the  minds  of  educated  youth  ;  he  harangued \nthe  populace  ;  he  counselled  the  clubs  in  secret  ;  he \nfaced  the  king's  officers  in  their  strength  ;  he  mocked \nthem  and  taunted  them  ;  he  elevated  a  street  riot \ninto  a  \"  Massacre,\"  and  caused  it  to  be  celebrated \nyear  after  year ;  he  devoted  himself  without  reserve \nto  the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose,  indifferent \nalike  to  poverty  and  pleasure,  daring  proscription \nand  death  ;  he  succeeded,  and  his  name  will  always \nremain  on  the  tablets  of  history  as  the  Father  of  the \nAmerican  Revolution. \n\nIn  arguing  against  the  writs  of  assistance,  Otis  had \ndeclared  that  taxation  without  representation  is  tyr- \nanny ;  not  that  any  Bostonian  desired  representa- \ntion in  the  British  parliament,  for  that  was  wellnigh \nimpracticable  ;  but  no  one  was  willing  to  bear  tax- \nation for  the  purpose  of  replenishing  an  exhausted \n\n\nWHAT  GALLED    THE    COLONISTS.  277 \n\ntreasury  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean.  Adams \nargued  at  length  at  another  time  against  the  pro- \npriety of  levying  taxes  for  the  government  and \ndefence  of  the  regions  that  had  been  acquired  in \nAmerica  from  France.  He  urged  that  the  colonists \nhad  already  incurred  debts  in  the  war,  which  was \nrather  for  the  increase  of  British  trade  than  for  the \nsake  of  affording  stability  and  security  to  the  Ameri- \ncan governments,  and  that  England  had  the  whole \nadvantage  of  the  new  commerce.  The  national  debt \nhad  increased  to  one  hundred  and  forty  million \npounds,  or  more  than  sixty  million  pounds  in  one \nyear — the  last  of  the  war,  and  it  was  to  make  the \nhome  burdens  easier  that  the  American  tax  was \nlaid.  This  was  the  feature  that  galled  the  colonists.* \nWhen,  therefore,  in  1764,  it  was  known  in  Boston \nthat  a  stamp  tax  was  to  be  laid  upon  the  colonies, \nthat  stamps  were  to  be  obligatory  upon  all  legal  and \nbusiness  documents,  that  offenders  against  the  new \nlaw  under  which  it  was  laid  were  not  to  have  the \nprivilege  of  trial  by  jury,  and  that  the  policy  was  to \nbe  enforced  as  asserting  the  right  of  England  to  obe- \ndience, Boston,  as  well  as  other  centres,  was  dis- \nturbed by  heated  discussions  of  the  relations  between \nthe  mother-country  and  the  colonies.     In  May  Bos- \n\n*  It  was  all  the  more  galling  because  the  taxes  were  already  extrav- \nagant. Dr.  Gordon  relates  that  some  time  before  this  date  a  Boston \ngentleman  of  fortune  sent  his  tax  bills  to  London  for  comparison \nwith  such  rates  there.  His  correspondent  replied  that  he  did  not  be- \nlieve there  was  a  man  in  all  England  who  paid  so  much  in  proportion \nto  the  support  of  the  government.  A  man  was  actually  obliged  to  pay \nin  taxes  two  thirds  of  his  income,  beside  the  excise  on  tea,  coffee, \nrum  and  wine. — \"  American  Revolution,\"   vol.   i.,   page  no. \n\n\n2/8  BOSTON   OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\nton  instructed  her  representatives  in  the  general \ncourt  to  maintain  the  rights  of  the  province  under \nthe  charter  and  the  rights  of  the  citizens  as  free-born \nsubjects  of  Great  Britain,  by  preventing  the  proposed \nproceedings  against  the  colonies.  The  important \npaper  in  which  these  instructions  were  conveyed, \ndrawn  up  by  Samuel  Adams,  contains  the  first  pub- \nlic denial  of  the  right  of  parliament  to  tax  America, \nand  the  first  suggestion  of  a  union  of  all  the  colonies \nfor  mutual  protection,  and  an  intimation  that  if  the \nburdens  were  not  removed,  the  Americans  would  re- \ntaliate upon  English  manufacturers  by  entering  into \nagreements  to  import  none  of  their  goods.  It  would \nbe  difficult  to  mention  any  paper  in  the  history  of \nour  country  that  proved  so  momentous  in  its  conse- \nquences as  this,  the  first  public  document  that  re- \nmains in  the  handwriting  of  its  author.  It  was \nimmediately  published,  and  accepted  as  expressing \nthe  sentiments  of  Boston,  and  of  Massachusetts,  and \nit  became  the  basis  of  the  public  policy  of  the  prov- \nince. A  year  later  Patrick  Henry  wrote  on  the \nblank  leaf  of  a  law  book  the  now  celebrated  \"  Vir- \nginia Resolves,\"  as  they  are  called,  in  which  he  took \nthe  same  ground,  asserting  that  obedience  was  not \ndue  to  a  law  imposing  a  tax  unless  it  had  been  sanc- \ntioned by  the  representatives  of  the  people,  and  the \nprinciple  was  accepted  by  the  colonies  in  general. \nThe  idea  struck  off  by  the  sagacious  Boston  patriot \nbecame  the  keynote  of  the  Revolution. \n\nIn  all  of  the  acts  of  these  stirring  times  Adams  was \nsupported  by  James  Otis  with  his  impetuous  and  un- \nrestrained eloquence  ;  and  by  Oxenbridge  Thacher, \n\n\nA    COMMITTEE   OF  CORRESPONDENCE.        279 \n\nthe  calm  and  business-like  defender  of  colonial  rights, \nwho  stood  in  the  confidence  of  the  men  of  Boston  as \nhigh  as  any  other  of  her  patriotic  citizens.  When \nthe  legislature  met  in  June,  it  was  Otis  who  pre- \npared a  memorial  to  be  sent  to  the  Massachusetts \nagent  in  England,  following  almost  the  very  words \nof  Samuel  Adams,  and  it  was  he  who  published  a \ntreatise  on  the  rights  of  the  colonies,  though  he \nmade  the  usual  assertion  that  independence  was  not \nthe  aim  of  the  Americans.  It  is  dif^cult  to  follow \nthe  line  of  argument  by  which  the  patriots  discrimi- \nnated between  their  determination  not  to  submit  to \ncertain  acts  of  parliament,  and  their  reservation  of \nsovereign  rights  to  themselves,  and  their  disclaimers \nof  all  desire  to  free  themselves  from  the  authority  of \nthe  king.  That  they  were  honest,  we  must  allow  ; \nbut  we  must  also  think  that  they  imperfectly  com- \nprehended the  meaning  of  their  acts,  and  the  real \ndesire  for  complete  independence  that  they  harbored \nin  their  hearts.  Doubtless  they  thought  that  they \nwould  \"  choose  subjection  to  Great  Britain  upon  any \nterms  above  absolute  slavery,\"  rather  than  \"  indepen- \ndency \"  ;  but  when  the  time  for  action  came  they  re- \nsented every  act  on  the  part  of  the  king  and  parlia- \nment which  involved  subjection,  or  seemed  to  limit \ncolonial  liberty  in  the  remotest  degree. \n\nThe  legislature  took  up  another  idea  of  Mr.  Adams \nby  appointing  a  committee  to  correspond  with  the \nsimilar  bodies  in  the  other  colonies,  and  thus  take \nadvantage  of  union  as  a  means  of  strength.  The \nBostonians  were  familiar  with  this  idea,  for  upon  it \nthe  New  England  Confederation  of  1643  was  found- \n\n\n280  BOSTON   OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\ned  ;  but  its  revival  at  this  juncture  is  none  the  less \ncreditable  to  Adams.  Out  of  it  grew  the  congress  at \nNew  York  in  1765,  the  continental  congress  at  Phila- \ndelphia in  1774,  and  finally  the  union  of  the  colonies, \nand  independence. \n\nNone  of  the  resolves,  instructions,  protests,  or \nprayers  of  Boston  had  any  effect  in  warding  off  the \nhated  tax,  and  on  the  twenty-second  of  March,  1765, \nthe  stamp  act  received  the  king's  sanction.  The \nnews  arrived  at  Boston  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  May, \nand  then  the  people  found  that  they  were  doomed \nto  pay  a  duty  of  from  half  a  penny  to  twenty  shil- \nlings on  every  skin  of  vellum  or  parchment,  or  sheet \nor  piece  of  paper  on  which  any  document  should  be \nAvritten  or  printed,  if  it  was  to  have  legal  validity. \nThey  learned  also  that  parliament  had  passed  a \n\"  Mutiny  Act,\"  which  required  the  colonies  to  pro- \nvide quarters  for  the  king's  troops  (even  in  private \nhouses)  when  on  service  in  their  limits.  Three  days \nlater,  Patrick  Henry  made  his  celebrated  speech  in \nthe  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses  ;  and  the  Massa- \nchusetts legislature  almost  immediately  proposed  a \ncongress,  to  be  held  in  New  York  on  the  first  Tues- \nday of  October,  since  the  act  was  to  begin  its  opera- \ntion on  the  first  of  November. \n\nPeople  were  everywhere  excited  to  watchfulness  ; \nit  was  whispered  about  that  some  provinces  were \nresolved  not  to  use  the  stamps,  though  business \ncould  not  legally  go  on  without  them  ;  though  ves- \nsels could  not  enter  nor  go  out  of  a  harbor  without \nstamped  papers  ;  though  colleges  could  not  grant \ntheir  degrees,  and  marriages  could  not  be  made  legal \n\n\nTHE   CHILD  INDEPENDENCE.  28 1 \n\nwithout  them  ;  though  newspapers  and  ahnanacs \nshould  be  stamped  ;  though  ''  this  mark  of  slavery  \" \nwas  necessary  in  every  line  of  activity.  There  was \nmore  than  a  spirit  of  watchfulness  abroad  ;  Mayhew \nwrote  :  \"  I  am  clear  on  this  point,  that  no  people \nare  under  a  religious  obligation  to  be  slaves  if  they \nare  able  to  set  themselves  at  liberty  \"  ;  and  the  Bos- \nton papers  declared  that,  though  Liberty  was  dead, \nhappily  she  had  \"  left  one  son,  the  child  of  her  bosom, \nprophetically  named  Independence,\"  and  that  all \nlooked  for  the  day  when  he  should  come  of  age.  It \nis  too  late  for  us  to  be  dragooned  out  of  our  rights, \nthe  people  declared,  when  there  are  two  million  in- \nhabitants in  America,  and  two  hundred  thousand  in \nthe  province  of  Massachusetts  alone.  It  was  deter- \nmined that  the  of^cers  appointed  by  the  king  to \ndistribute  the  stamps  should  be  forced  to  resign, \nand  it  was  evident  that  the  act  would  not  execute \nitself. \n\nAndrew  Oliver,  secretary  of  Massachusetts,  ac- \ncepted with  temerity  the  office  of  distributer  of \nstamps  in  Boston.  When  the  sun  rose  on  the  four- \nteenth of  August,  a  few  days  later,  passers  by  \"  the \nGreat  Tree,\"  which  was  one  of  a  group  of  majestic \nelms  that  stood  at  the  head  of  Essex  Street,  near \nthe  entrance  to  the  town  and  opposite  Boylston \nMarket,  saw  hanging  from  its  branches  an  eflfigy  of \nMr.  Oliver,  with  a  boot  (representing  Lord  Bute) \nfrom  which  the  devil  peeped  out,  bearing  a  copy  of \nthe  stamp  act  in  his  hands.  No  one  was  permitted \nto  take  the  image  down,  though  Lieutenant-Governor \nHutchinson  demanded  that  it  should  be  done.  \"  We \n\n\n282  BOSTON  OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\nwill  take  them  down  in  the  evening,\"  said  the  crowd. \nFrom  the  streets  about,  and  from  adjoining  towns, \nmen  gathered  to  look  at  the  sight,  and  business  was \nquite  laid  aside.  Governor  Bernard  and  Mr.  Hutch- \ninson conferred  with  their  council,  but  all  the  satis- \nfaction they  obtained  was  the  statement :  \"  The \ncountry  will  never  submit  to  the  execution  of  the \nstamp  act  !  \"  As  the  day  wore  on,  the  numbers \nabout  the  tree  grew  to  a  multitude.  Then  the  effigy \nwas  taken  down,  according  to  promise,  and,  with \nhuzzas  and  cries  of  defiance,  it  was  carried  in  orderly \nprocession  towards  the  town-house,  where  the  gov- \nernor heard  his  subjects  shouting  at  the  top  of  their \nvoices  :  \"  Liberty,  property,  and  no  stamps !  \"  \"  Death \nto  the  man  who  offers  a  piece  of  stamped  paper  to \nsell !  \"  \"  All  the  power  of  Britain  shall  not  oblige  us \nto  submit !  \"  \"  We  will  die  upon  the  place  first  !  \" \nA  building  on  Kilby  Street,  that  was  supposed  to  be \nintended  as  a  stamp  oflfice,  was  demolished,  and  the \nmen,  taking  sticks  from  the  ruins,  carried  them  to \nFort  Hill,  where  a  bonfire  was  made,  in  which  the \neffigy  was  burned  in  view  of  Mr.  Oliver's  house. \nThe  residence  itself  was  afterwards  attacked,  its \nwindows  broken,  and  its  fences  torn  down.  The \nlieutenant-governor  and  the  sheriff,  who  attempted \nto  disperse  the  crowd,  were  set  upon  with  sticks  and \nstones,  and  escaped  with  bruises  by  favor  of  the \ndarkness.  The  next  day,  Oliver  was  forced  to  resign \nhis  office. \n\nIn  the  midst  of  these  excitements.  Dr.  Mayhew \npreached  a  sermon,  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  August, \nfrom  the  words  :     \"  I  would  they  were  even  cut  off \n\n\nDR.  MAYHEW'S  SERMON.  283 \n\nwhich  trouble  you,  for,  brethren,  ye  have  been  called \nunto   liberty.\"     (Galatians  v.,    12,    13.)      He   spoke \nagainst  the  stamp  act  as  a  heavy  grievance,  and  ex- \npressed himself  strongly  in  favor  of  civil  and  religious \nliberty;  but,   at   the    same   time,   protested   against \nabuses  of  liberty,  and  cautioned  his  hearers  against \nriotous  proceedings.     The  following  day  was  marked \nby  an  occurrence  of  the  character  against  which  Dr. \nMayhew  had  protested.     A  mob,  inflamed  by  strong \ndrink,  attacked  Hutchinson's  house  with  savage  fury, \nscarcely  allowing  him  to  escape  with  his  life  ;  they \ncarried    off   his  family  plate,  his  specie,  and    other \nvaluables,   and   destroyed   his   unique    collection    of \nmanuscripts  that  it  had  required  a  lifetime  to  bring \ntogether.     The  next  morning  the  house  was  found \nwith  its  roof  partially  uncovered,  its  cupola  thrown \ndown,  its  ornaments  destroyed,  and  the  streets  about \nscattered  with  money,  plate,  gold  rings,  etc.,  which \nhad  been  dropped  in  the   darkness.     The   frenzied \nspirits  had  also  destroyed  the  records  of  the  vice- \nadmiralty    court,    and    ravaged    the    house    of    the \ncomptroller  of    customs.     The    day    after   this    dis- \ngraceful riot,  the  enemies  of  Dr.  Mayhew  circulated \nreports  of  his  sermon,  declaring  that  he  had  encour- \naged the  resistance  to  the  government,  and  had  thus \nbeen   the  cause  of  the   public  disgrace.      The  doc- \ntor wrote  directly  to  the  governor,   expressing  his \nhorror  at  the  riot,  and  said  that  he  would  rather  lose \nhis  hand  than  encourage  such    outrages.     The  cir- \ncumstance shows  that  in  times  of  such  excitement \nthe  better  class,  while  limiting  themselves  to  lawful \nmethods  of  action,  cannot  put  such  restrictions  upon \n\n\n284  BOSTON  OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\nthose  whose  unbridled  passions  find  opportunity  for \nbursting  out, — who  cannot  distinguish  liberty  from \nlicense. \n\nSuch  proceedings  were,  of  course,  abhorred  by \nAdams  also,  and  the  soberer  inhabitants  generally, \nand  on  the  following  day  at  a  town-meeting  held \nin  Faneuil  Hall,  which  was  as  full  as  had  ever \nbeen  known,  a  unanimous  vote  was  passed,  declar- \ning an  utter  detestation  of  the  violent  doings  of \nthe  mob,  and  calling  upon  the  selectmen  to  sup- \npress such  disorders  in  the  future.  Hutchinson \nstates  that  many  of  the  immediate  actors  in  the \norgies  of  the  night  before  were  present  at  this  meet- \ning ;  and  he  shows  that  he  appreciated  the  situa- \ntion of  affairs,  for  he  says  also  that  England  had \nplaced  herself  in  a  serious  dilemma,  for  if  \"  parlia- \nment should  make  concessions,  their  authority  would \nbe  lost,  while  if  they  should  use  external  force,  affec- \ntion would  be  forever  alienated.\"  Governor  Bernard \nhad  already  fled  for  safety  to  the  Castle,  and  now \nH^utchinson  followed  him,  while  the  attorney-gen- \neral dared  not  to  sleep  in  his  house,  nor  for  two  con- \nsecutive nights  in  the  same  place  elsewhere,  and  all \nthe  other  officers  of  the  crown  were  terror-stricken. \n\nJohn  Adams  expressed  the  fears  of  many  persons \nin  Boston  when  he  said  :  \"  There  seems  to  be  a  direct \nand  formal  design  on  foot  in  Great  Britain  to  en- \nslave all  America,\"  and  he  announced  her  determina- \ntion also  when  he  added  that  liberty  was  to  be \ndefended  at  all  hazards.  He  called  upon  the  pulpit \nto  declare  the  truth  that  consenting  to  slavery  is  a \nsacrilegious  breach  of  trust ;  upon  the  bar,  to  pro- \n\n\nTHE    STAMP  ACT  DENOUNCED.  285 \n\nclaim  the  rights  of  man  delivered  from  remote  an- \ntiquity, having  their  foundations  in  the  constitution \nof  the  intellectual  and  moral  world,  in  truth,  liberty, \njustice,  and  benevolence ;  upon  the  colleges,  to  im- \npress upon  the  tender  mind  of  youth  the  beauty  of \nliberty,  the  true  ideas  of  right,  and  the  sensation  of \nfreedom;  and  finally  on  all,  to  impress  upon  their \nsouls  the  aims  of  the  forefathers  in  exchanging  their \nnative  country  for  a  wilderness.  Under  direction \nof  Samuel  Adams  the  town  of  Boston  denounced \nthe  stamp  act  and  the  courts  of  admiralty,  as  con- \ntrary to  the  constitution  of  Great  Britain,  the  prov- \nince charter,  and  human  rights,  and  expressed  a \nlively  interest  in  the  result  of  the  congress  to  be \nheld  in  New  York  in  October.  This  body  met  in \naccordance  with  the  call,  and  remained  in  session \na  single  week.  It  accomplished  its  most  important \nlabor  in  bringing  together  representative  men  from \nthe  different  colonies,  and  in  making  them  familiar \nwith  their  mutual  views  as  a  basis  for  concerted \naction  in  the  future ;  but  it  also  prepared  and  issued \naddresses  to  the  king,  the  lords,  and  the  commons \nof  England,  all  of  which  were  consistent  with  the \nalready  familiar  expressions  of  Samuel  Adams. \n\nMeantime  preparations  were  making  in  Boston \nand  elsewhere  for  the  first  of  November.  Every- \nwhere it  was  the  universal  determination  that  the \nstamp  act  should  not  go  into  operation.  Merchants \ncountermanded  their  orders  for  British  goods,  do- \nmestic manufactures  were  encouraged,  engagements \nwere  made  to  eat  no  lamb  in  or-der  that  the  supply \nof   wool    for   cloth    might    increase,    and    men    and \n\n\n286  BOSTON   OPPOSES  A    TAX. \n\nwomen  vied  with  one  another  in  admiration  of  cloth- \ning that  was  entirely  of  American  manufacture.  Otis \n'declared  that  one  act  of  parliament  had  \"  set  the \npeople  a-thinking  more  in  six  months  than  they  had \ndone  in  their  whole  lives  before.\"  The  papers \nabounded  in  songs  intended  to  rouse  the  citizens  to \naction.  The  Massachusetts  Gazette  contained  a  Bos- \nton Song,  of  which  the  following  is  a  stanza : \n\n\"  With  us  of  the  woods \n\nLay  aside  your  fine  goods, \nContentment  depends  not  on  fine  clothes  ; \n\nWe  hear,  smell,  and  see, \n\nTaste  and  feel  with  high  glee, \nAnd  in  winter  have  huts  for  repose.\" \n\nEfforts  of  this  kind  were  long  continued,  and  the \nBoston  Evening  Post  of  February,  1766,  contained  in- \nstructions for  the  children  of  America,  in  which  we \nread: \n\n\"  With  nervous  arm  strike  deep  the  whale, \n\npluck  codfish  tugging  at  your  line  ; \nTake  the  broiled  mackerel  by  her  tail, \n\nlet  fops  among  tea-trinkets  shine. \nLet  oxen  spread  my  valleys  over, \n\ndrinking  at  the  crystal  rills  ; \nWhile  fleecy  flocks  do  nibble  clover, \n\ngrowing  on  my  verdant  hills. \nRise  up,  my  daughters,  light  your  tapers, \n\ntake  the  spinning-wheel  in  hand. \nYour  babes  shall  prattle  how  your  labors \n\nhelped  to  save  a  sinking  land  !  \" \n\nNotwithstanding  the  fact  that  many  of  the  best \ncitizens  feared  that  the  day  on  which  the  stamp  act \nwas  to  go  into  effect  might  be  marked  by  the  same \n\n\nTHE    TREE    OF  LIBERTY.  287 \n\nexcesses  that  had  made  the  twenty-sixth  of  August \nnotorious,  the  hberty  party  determined  to  make  a \ndemonstration,  probably  with  a  hope  that  the  author- \nrities  might  be  overawed  and  caused  to  give  up  all \nexpectation  that  the  act  would  either  execute  itself, \nas  some  had  thought  it  would,  or  be  submitted  to, \nas  most  of  the  partisans  of  the  crown  expected. \nThe  spot  selected  for  the  purpose  was  the  vicinity  of \nEssex  and  Newbury  (now  Washington)  streets, \nalready  mentioned.  In  September  the  largest  of \nthe  famous  elms  that  stood  at  that  place  had  been \nadorned  with  a  copper  plate  on  which  was  stamped \nin  letters  of  gold  :  \"  The  Tree  of  Liberty,  August  14, \n1765.\" \n\nThe  fateful  first  of  November  was  a  Friday  ;  it \nwas  ushered  in  by  the  tolling  of  bells ;  and  the  ves- \nsels in  the  harbor  displayed  their  colors  at  half-mast \nin  token  of  mourning  ;  the  Liberty  Tree  was  orna- \nmented by  two  effigies  of  British  statesmen  who \nsupported  the  tax,  which  remained  hanging  until \nthree  in  the  afternoon,  the  subject  of  ridicule  by \nthousands  of  spectators  who  gathered  from  town \nand  country.  Amid  the  shouts  of  the  crowd  the \nimages  were  finally  cut  down  and  carried  in  solemn \nprocession  to  the  court-house,  where  the  assembly \nwas  in  session,  and  then  to  the  gallows  on  the  Neck, \nwhere  they  were  suspended  again,  and  afterwards \ncut  down  and  subjected  to  indignities  thought  to  be \nmerited  by  the  persons  they  represented.  After \nloud  cheers  the  multitude  dispersed  quietly  to  their \nhomes,  and  the  detestation  of  the  Bostonians  was \nsupposed  to  have  been  duly  expressed.     The  town \n\n\n288  BOSTON  OPPOSES  A   TAX. \n\nwas  more  than  ordinarily  quiet  that  night,  as  though \nthe  citizens  desired  to  bear  witness  to  their  disap- \nproval of  the  riotous  proceedings  of  the  twenty-sixth \nof  August. \n\nThere  was  by  no  means  unity  on  the  other  side  of \nthe  sea  in  regard  to  the  propriety  of  enforcing  the \nstamp  tax,  and  intimations  of  this  fact  were  received \nfrom  time  to  time  in  Boston,  before  and  after  the \nfirst  of  November.  This  encouraged  the  resistance \nthat  had  been  determined  upon.  Parliament  be- \ncame the  arena  upon  which  one  of  the  most  memor- \nable debates  in  the  annals  of  England  occurred. \nThe  subject  of  managing  America  was  uppermost \nin  all  minds.  Adams  and  Otis  on  the  one  side,  and \nBernard  and  Hutchinson  on  the  other,  stood  for  the \ntwo  phases  of  the  question  in  Boston.  Benjamin \nFranklin,  the  Boston  boy,  was  brought  before  the \nHouse  of  Commons,  and  examined,  in  order  that \nlight  might  be  cast  upon  the  debate  by  one  well \nacquainted  with  both  sides  of  the  question.  When \nasked  if  he  thought  that  America  ought  to  be  pro- \ntected without  paying  any  portion  of  the  cost,  he \nreplied  that  the  colonies  had  during  the  late  war \nraised,  clothed,  and  paid  twenty-iive  thousand  men, \nand  spent  many  million  pounds.  He  assured  his \nquestioners  that  the  stamp  tax  would  never  be \npaid  ;  that  if  an  armed  force  were  sent  to  carry  out \nthe  act,  no  one  would  be  found  in  arms,  and  that  it \nwould  be  impossible  to  force  the  citizens  to  buy \nstamps,  if  they  chose  to  go  without  them. \n\nIn  March,  of  the  year  1776,  the  act  was  repealed  ; \nthe   king  gave   his   consent   very  much  against   his \n\n\nSOBER  MEN-  REFLECTED.  289 \n\nwishes;  the  bells  were  set  to  ringing  in  London  ;  flags \nwere  generously  displayed  from  all  the  ships  on  the \nThames  ;  there  were  bonfires  and  illuminations.  On \nthe  sixteenth  of  May  the  news  was  known  in  Boston, \nbrought  by  a  vessel  owned  by  John  Hancock ;  and \nsimilar  scenes  were  repeated.  The  Liberty  Tree \nwas  covered  with  flags  by  day  and  illuminated  at \nnight  three  days  later  ;  money  was  raised  to  release \npoor  debtors  from  jail ;  Hancock  gave  a  grand  dinner, \nand  treated  the  populace  in  the  street  to  a  pipe  of \nMadeira  wine. \n\nBoston  rejoiced  that  America  had  resisted,  and \nthat  England  had  been  forced  to  give  up  her  darling \nproject ;  but  sober  men  reflected  with  solicitude  that \nparliament  still  declared  itself  supreme  over  all  col- \nonies, in  all  cases  whatsoever.  There  was  cause  for \ncongratulation  that  the  courts  of  law,  which  had  for \nsome  time  been  closed,  were  open,  and  that  busi- \nness, which  had  been  embarrassed,  was  able  to  run \non  in  its  usual  channels,  but  the  future  was  not  clear  ' \nto  those  who  reflected. \n\n\nXXI. \n\n\nIN    THE    GRIP    OF    THE    ARMY. \n\n\nThe  time  at  which   we   have   now  arrived  in   our \nstory  is  one   of    continually    increasing  excitement \nin  Boston,    and    the    skill    and    sagacity    of  Samuel \nAdams,   and   of  the   company  of  men  of  which  he \nformed  the  centre,  become  more  and  more  impress- \nive at  every  step.    They  were  men  of  positive  views, \nwho  suffered  no  doubts  of  the  righteousness  of  their \ncause  to  shake   the   firmness  of  their  actions.     The \ninfluence   of  the  chief  town  in  the  colony  grew  day \nby  day  ;  the  jealousy  that  had  from   time  to  time \nbeen  felt  by  other  towns,  and  their  delegates  in  the \ncourt,  had  now,  according  to    Hutchinson's  History, \ndisappeared,    and   all  were    more    than   willing   that \nBoston   should  exert  the  power  that  it   seemed  to \nthem  her  patriots  had  the  ability  and  the  wisdom  to \nuse  aright  for  the  common  good.    In  bringing  about \nthis  result   no  one   had  been   more  influential  than \nJames  Otis,  since   his  entrance  upon  the  duties  of \nlegislator.    There  were  constant  meetings  of  the  gen- \neral court  in  which  his  voice  was  effectively  heard  ; \nand  in  the  intervals  there  were  more  frequent  gath- \nerings  of  the   freemen   of  Boston,   at  which  action \nwas  taken  without  reluctance  that  affected  the  inter- \n\n290 \n\n\nTHE    SONS   OF  LIBERTY.  2gi \n\nest  of  Boston  no  more  than  that  of  the  entire  prov- \nince. The  leaders  in  both  legislature  and  town- \nmeeting  were  the  same,  and  the  chief  among  them \nheld  private  evening  meetings,  at  least  once  a  week, \nat  which  arrangements  were  made  for  concerted  ac- \ntion in  the  public  gatherings.  Thus  measures  were \nprojected  and  settled  by  the  few  that  were  ratified \nby  the  many,  and  at  the  same  time  it  was  deter- \nmined how  the  public  should  be  influenced  through \nthe  press,  for,  as  has  been  observed,  Adams  knew \nthe  power  of  printing-ink,  and  it  is  certain  that \nthose  who  labored  with  him  agreed  with  him  almost \nunanimously. \n\nIn  a  speech  delivered  in  parliament  by  Colonel \nBarr6,  one  of  the  staunch  friends  of  Massachusetts, \nhe  called  the  Bostonians  \"  Sons  of  Liberty,\"  and  the \nname  was  adopted  by  a  society  comprising  about \nthree  hundred  active  patriots,  many  of  \\\\'hom  were \nmechanics  and  laboring  men,  organized  under  saga- \ncious leaders.  This  influential  body  was  successful \nin  arranging  secret  caucuses,  preliminary  to  elec- \ntions and  celebrations,  and  in  the  \"  Life  of  Samuel \nAdams,\"  by  W.  V.  Wells  (vol.  i.,  p.  64),  it  is  said \nthat  it  went  so  far  as  even  to  issue  warrants  for  the \narrest  of  suspected  persons.  The  public  gather- \nings of  the  society  were  held  in  \"  Hanover  Square,\" \nas  it  was  then  called,  which  was  the  open  space  in \nthe  highway  around  \"  Liberty  Tree,\"  at  the  junc- \ntion of  Newbury,  Orange,  and  Essex  streets,  which \nwas  re-named  \"  Liberty  Hall,\"  and  afforded  room \nsufificient  for  several  thousand  oersons  to  come  to- \ngether.     More  private  meetings  were  held,  it  is  said, \n\n\n292  IN  THE   GRIP   OF  THE  ARMY. \n\nin  a  counting-room  on  the  same  square.  Through \nthis  organization  the  leaders  directed  the  popular \nmovement  against  the  government.  As  early  as \n1766  the  Sons  of  Liberty,  whose  organization  was \nquickly  imitated  in  other  towns,  had  every  thing  in \ntheir  hands,  and  just  before  the  news  of  the  repeal \nof  the  stamp  act  reached  Boston,  they  put  Adams, \nHancock,  Otis,  and  other  tried  men  into  the  legis- \nlature. Adams  was  chosen  clerk,  a  position  that \nenabled  him  to  keep  a  watch  of  all  action,  and  made \nit  possible  for  him  to  give  form  to  much  of  the \nlegislation,  while  it  did  not  at  all  interfere  with  his \nfreedom  as  a  debater  whenever  he  wished  to  utter \nhis  sentiments. \n\nIn  spite  of  the  repeal  of  the  stamp  act,  England \nhad  in  no  degree  renounced  her  intention  of  deriv- \ning a  revenue  from  America,  and  parliament  now \nfelt  new  incentives  to  this  plan  in  consequence  of \nwounded  pride  and  mortified  ambition  over  the \n\"  fatal  compliance,\"  as  the  king  called  the  repeal. \nAccordingly,  in  June,  1767,  through  the  influence  of \nCharles  Townshend,  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, \na  tax  was  laid  upon  glass,  paper,  paints,  and  tea,  a \nboard  of  commissioners  of  customs  was  established \nat  Boston,  and  writs  of  assistance  were  formally \nmade  legal.  Such  acts  as  these  gave  the  leaders  of \nthe  Sons  of  Liberty  the  opportunity  they  wished, \nfor  they  represented  that  liberty  was  to  be  snatched \nfrom  the  helpless  colonists,  that  ships  and  troops \nwould  soon  come,  that  military  rule  would  be  es- \ntablished, and  that  the  officers  who  were  to  carry \nout  the  acts  of  oppression  would  be  paid  out  of  the \nmoneys  wrenched  from  the  Bostonians. \n\n\nCELEBRATIONS  OF  ANNIVERSARIES.         293 \n\nOne  of  the  means  of  keeping  the  people  interested \nin  the  movement  against  the  government,  that  Adams \nand  Otis  knew  would  be  efficacious,  was  the  celebra- \ntion of  appropriate  anniversaries.  When  the  anni- \nversary of  the  repeal  of  the  stamp  act  came  around, \nMarch  18,  1768,  the  occasion  was  celebrated  with \nenthusiasm,  but  without  any  exhibitions  of  violence, \nthough  Hutchinson  says  that  \"  fresh  disturbances  '' \nwere  threatened,  and  Bernard  in  his  timidity  re- \ncorded that  \"  many  hundreds  paraded  the  streets  with \nyells  and  outcry s  which  were  quite  terrible,\" — quite \nterrible,  indeed,  the  shouts  of  the  people  may  have \nseemed  to  his  Excellency,  conscious  of  his  own  deserts, \nremembering  how  he  had  hectored  the  people's  rep- \nresentatives, encouraged  all  movements  that  they \nfeared  and  opposed,  and  how  he  was  then  constantly \ntrying  to  influence  the  home  government  to  send \nhim  troops  that  he  might  intimidate  and  not  be \nintimidated.  There  was,  it  is  true,  a  feast  at  Faneuil \nHall,  and  toasts  had  been  drunk  to  \"  martyrs  of \nliberty,\"  but  the  company  separated  early,  and  a \ncrowd  that  assembled  in  the  evening  desisted  from \nlighting  bonfires,  at  the  earnest  request  of  influential \ngentlemen.  Two  effigies  were  suspended  on  Liberty \nTree  in  the  morning,  but  they  were  cut  down  with- \nout excitement.  In  like  spirit  the  outbreak  of  the \nfourteenth  of  August  against  the  stamp  act  was \ncelebrated  the  same  year.  The  British  flag  was \nflung  to  the  breeze  from  the  Liberty  Tree  at  dawn \n(August  1 5th,  for  the  14th  was  Sunday) ;  the  principal \ngentlemen  and  chief  inhabitants  met  under  its  shade; \nthe  populace  crowded  around;  there  was  music; \n\"  the  universally  admired  American  Song  of  Liberty  \" \n\n\n294  I^  THE    GRIP   OF  THE  ARMY. \n\nwas  sung ;  cannon  were  discharged  ;  \"  the  fair  daugh- \nters of  Hberty\"  adorned  the  windows  of  the  neigh- \nboring houses,  from  which  they  \"  testified  their \napprobation  by  smiles  of  satisfaction.\"  After  all, \nthe  gentlemen  repaired  to  the  Greyhound  Tavern  at \nRoxbury,  the  cavalcade  being  allowed  to  be  the \nfinest  that  had  ever  been  seen  in  America,  and  there \nwere  salutes,  toasts,  and  a  frugal  entertainment.  In \n1769  there  was  another  celebration  on  the  fourteenth \nof  August,  at  which  there  were  present  besides  Otis, \nAdams  and  Hancock,  John  Adams,  and  visitors \nfrom  Philadelphia  with  whom  the  Bostonians  had \nsympathetic  converse.  Two  tables  were  laid  in  the \nopen  field  by  the  barn  near  Robinson's  Liberty- \nTree  Tavern  at  Dorchester,  and  there  were  three  or \nfour  hundred  plates.  Three  large  pigs  were  \"  bar- \nbecued,\" there  were  toasts  and  thunders  of  cannon, \nFrancis  Bernard  and  the  commissioners — \"  infamous \ncalumniators  of  North  America\" — were  denounced \nas  worthy  of  condign  punishment,  \"strong  halters, \nfirm  blocks,  and  sharp  axes\"  were  spoken  of  as \nappropriate  for  the  \"  taskmasters  \"  of  America,  and \nall  was  life,  patriotism,  and  jollity.  John  Adams  re- \nmarks that  such  celebrations  tend  to  \"  tinge  the \nminds  of  the  people,  they  impregnate  them  with  the \nsentiments  of  liberty,  they  render  the  people  fond  of \ntheir  leaders  in  the  cause,  and  adverse  and  bitter \nagainst  all  opposition.\"  Hancock  led  the  procession \nin  his  chariot  on  this  occasion,  and  the  line  extended \na  mile  and  a  half  behind  him.  Before  the  day  came \naround  again  the  chiefs  had  found  another  day  fit \nfor  celebration,  and  one  that  they  thought  it  would \n\n\nDEBATES    OPENED    TO    THE  PUBLIC.         295 \n\nbe  even  more  profitable  to  impress  on  the  popular \nmind. \n\nTroops  were  now  constantly  expected  in  real \nearnest.  Adams  gave  himself  up  to  the  cause  of \nliberty  without  reserve,  laboring  day  and  night,  and \nnot  making  a  single  personal  scheme,  or  looking \nforward  to  laying  up  any  thing  for  himself  or  his \ndescendants;  in  fact,  it  is  certain  that  with  his  de- \nvotion to  the  public  good  he  could  have  succeeded \nin  no  business  of  a  private  nature.  He  owned  his \nmodest  Purchase  Street  home,  over  which  his  thrifty \nwife  presided  with  care,  and  for  income  he  had  a  pit- \ntance as  clerk  of  the  assembly ;  but  it  is  evident  that \nit  must  have  required  all  the  skill  of  the  most  skilful \nNew  England  housewife  to  keep  the  children  and \nherself  fed  and  clothed.  Adams  was  not  afraid  of \nhonest  poverty ;  his  \"  wife  and  children  understood \nhim  and  idolized  him  as  their  protector,  adviser  and \ncompanion,  whose  genial,  courageous  disposition \nknew  not  despondency  and  preserved  a  warm  sun- \nshine in  the  hearts  of  all  who  shared  his  society.\"  * \n\nAt  the  motion  of  James  Otis,  June  3,  1766,  the \ndebates  of  the  assembly  were  thrown  open  to  the \npeople,  a  gallery  was  provided  for  their  accommoda- \ntion, and  \"  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  legisla- \ntive associations  it  was  made  the  right  of  the  plain \ncitizen  to  hear  and  see — a  usage  which  has  modified \nin  important  ways  the  proceedings  and  very  charac- \nter of  deliberative  bodies.\"  f     This    politic    step  is \n\n*  \"The  Life  and  Public  Services  uf  Samuel  Adams,\"  by  William \nVincent  Wells,  vol.  i.,  page  273. \n\n\\  \"  Samuel  Adams,\"  by  James  K.  Ilosmer,  page  94. \n\n\n296  IN  THE   GRIP   OF  THE  ARMY. \n\nanother  mark  of  the  sagacity  of  the  leaders  of \nBoston  at  this  juncture.  It  was  a  means  of  edu- \ncating and  inspiring  the  people  at  once,  and  at  the \nsame  time  it  increased  the  importance  of  the  legis- \nlative proceedings.  * \n\nIn  June,  1768,  another  of  the  irritating  occurrences \nof  the  day  aroused  the  citizens.  Some  men  were \nimpressed  by  the  captain  of  the  frigate  Roniney, \nwhich  lay  in  the  harbor,  lately  arrived  from  Halifax. \nThe  captain  made  peace  with  a  committee  of  gentle- \nmen who  called  upon  him  to  remonstrate,  but  the \npeople,  from  among  whom  the  men  had  been  taken, \ncherished  their  resentments,  while  the  merchants \nbelieved  that  the  frigate  had  been  sent  to  enforce \nthe  revenue  laws.  A  few  days  after  these  impress- \nments customs  ofificers  seized  a  vessel  named  the \nLiberty,  belonging  to  John  Hancock,  declaring  that \nshe  had  violated  the  revenue  laws,  f  She  was  carried \noff  and  placed  under  cover  of  the  guns  of  the  Roni- \nney.  A  furious  mob  collected  at  the  wharf  from \nwhich  the  Liberty  had  been  taken,  and  swore  ven- \ngeance   against    the    \"  oppressors,\"  as  most    of   the \n\n*  \"  Life  of  James  Otis,\"  by  Professor  Francis  Bowen,  page  143. \nTudor,  \"  Life  of  Otis,\"  page  253. \n\nf  Tliere  is  little  doubt  that  the  revenue  laws  had  really  been  vio- \nlated, and  yet  it  would  be  a  harsh  use  of  language  to  call  John  Han- \ncock a  \"  smuggler.\"  The  new  commissioners  enforced  laws  that  had \nlong  been  in  a  state  of  desuetude,  and  the  Liberty  was  made  an \nexample  of  quite  unexpectedly.  In  popular  fancy  laws  lapse  through \ndesuetude,  and  it  seems  as  though  the  burdensome  customs  laws  had \nso  lapsed  at  this  time,  not  only  in  popular  fancy,  but  by  the  law  of \nlong  custom  and  with  the  connivance  of  English  officers  in  America, \nperhaps  influenced  by  intimations  from  their  superiors  on  the  other \nside  of  the  Atlantic. \n\n\nA   BOSTON  MOB.  297 \n\nrepresentatives  of  the  royal  government  were  habit- \nually called,  for  it  was  supposed  that  more  impress- \nments had  been  made.  When  it  was  known  that  a \nvessel  belonging  to  so  popular  a  man  as  Hancock \nhad  been  seized,  the  mob  set  upon  the  ofificers ; \nJoseph  Harrison,  the  collector,  was  severely  wounded \nby  a  stone ;  his  son,  who  held  no  ofificial  position, \nwas  thrown  down  and  barbarously  used  ;  other  offi- \ncers were  similarly  treated  ;  the  house  of  the  in- \nspector-general was  broken  into  and  damaged,  while \na  pleasure  boat  belonging  to  the  collector  was \ndragged  to  the  Common  and  burned.  There  was  no \nfurther  violence  that  night,  and  Saturday  and  Sun- \nday, which  followed,  were  quiet,  but  the  feelings  of \nthe  people  were  rising,  and  there  were  threatening \ngatherings  in  different  parts  of  the  town.  The  com- \nmissioners began  to  feel  insecure  and  took  refuge  on \nboard  the  Romney,  asking  the  governor  to  admit \nthem  to  the  Castle  for  protection.  The  governor \ngave  them  permission  to  go  to  the  Castle,  but  at  the \nsame  time  informed  them  that  he  could  not  guaran- \ntee them  protection. \n\nOn  Monday,  June  13th,  notices  were  posted  by \nthe  leaders,  calling  a  meeting  at  \"  Liberty  Hall  \"  on \nthe  following  day  ;  but  when  the  day  arrived  it  was \nrainy,  and  the  gathering,  which  was  composed  of \nseveral  thousand  persons,  adjourned  to  Faneuil  Hall. \nA  town-meeting  was  called  for  three  o'clock,  at  the \nsame  place,  but  the  room  was  found  too  small,  and \nthere  was  another  adjournment  to  the  Old  South \nmeeting-house,  where  James  Otis  was  moderator. \nOtis  directed  the  meeting  with  great  good  judgment, \n\n\n2g8  IN  THE   GRIP    UF  THE  ARMY. \n\nand  put  aside  all  extravagant  motions  without  of- \nfending the  movers.  A  committee  was  appointed \nto  address  Governor  Bernard  at  his  seat  in  Roxbury. \nThe  governor,  knowing  that  he  was  completely  at \nthe  mercy  of  the  people,  treated  the  committee  with \ngreat  consideration,  gave  them  wine  before  they  left, \nand  led  them  to  think  that  he  was  really  a  well- \nwisher  of  the  town.  Bernard's  fears  were  well \nfounded.  The  town  of  Boston  had  said,  in  instruct- \ning its  representatives  :  \"  It  is  our  unalterable  reso- \nlution at  all  times  to  assert  and  vindicate  our  dear \nand  invaluable  rights  and  liberties,  at  the  utmost \nhazard  of  our  lives  and  fortunes,\"  and  the  people \nmeant  what  they  said,  as  the  governor  well  knew. \n\nThere  had  been  expectations  before  this  that \ntroops  would  be  brought  to  Boston  to  overawe  the \ncitizens,  and  these  anticipations  were  now  intensified, \nfor  it  was  evident  to  both  governor  and  people  that \nunless  an  armed  force  should  support  the  royal \nofiticers  they  would  be  powerless.  Still,  Bernard  was \ntoo  timid  to  ask  for  troops  ;  he  wished  to  be  able  to \nsay  that  he  had  not  gone  so  far  as  that.  He  there- \nfore continued  to  satisfy  himself  by  making  com- \nplaints intended  to  show  that  troops  were  needed. \nIn  July  he  received  information  from  Gage,  who \nwas  commander-in-chief,  that  troops  had  been  or- \ndered from  Halifax  to  Boston,  \"  if  they  are  wanted  \"  ; \nand  he  replied  that  he  could  not  apply  for  troops, \nbut  wrote  home  that  he  felt  it  improper  to  prevent \ntheir  coming,  if  they  were  ordered  by  others. \n\nEarly  in  September  an  officer  arrived  from  Halifax, \nwhose  mission  was  suspected  to  be  to  look  for  quar- \n\n\nA    CONVENTION   OF  DEPUTIES.  299 \n\nters  for  soldiers.  On  the  thirteenth  a  town-meeting \nwas  held,  and  it  was  voted  that  \"  as  there  is  at  this \ntime  a  prevailing  apprehension  of  approaching  war \nwith  France,  every  inhabitant  is  requested  to  provide \nhimself  with  a  well-fixed  firelock  musket,  accoutre- \nments, and  ammunition,\"  though  in  reality  such  a \nwar  was  as  much  a  legal  fiction  as  ever  was  John \nDoe  or  Richard  Roe.  A  committee,  comprising \nAdams,  Otis,  Hancock,  Warren,  and  others,  had \nalready  been  formed  to  take  the  state  of  public \naffairs  into  consideration  ;  and  now  a  fast  was  ap- \npointed, and  the  town  was  in  consternation.  A \nconvention  of  deputies  from  all  the  towns  in  the \nprovince  was  called  to  meet  in  Faneuil  Hall,  Sep- \ntember 22d,  and,  at  the  time  set,  more  than  ninety \ntowns  sent  delegates.  This  body  declared  its  al- \nlegiance to  the  king,  as  usual,  and  its  abhorrence \nof  violence  and  riot,  though,  at  the  same  time,  it \nasserted  the  natural  and  chartered  rights  of  the  peo- \nple, and  expressed  confidence  that  the  wrongs  under \nwhich  the  colony  felt  that  it  was  suffering  would  be \nredressed  by  their  \"  gracious  sovereign.\"  The  con- \nvention adjourned  September  29th,  and  the  next \nday,  Friday,  six  of  His  Majesty's  ships-of-war  came \nup  the  harbor  and  anchored  around  the  town  with \nloaded  cannon,  as  if  intending  a  regular  siege.  On \nthe  following  day  two  regiments,  a  train  of  artillery, \nand  two  pieces  of  cannon  were  landed  at  Long \nWharf,  and  the  soldiers  marched  up  King  Street, \n\"  with  insolent  parade,\"  the  citizens  thought,  their \ndrums  beating,  their  fifes  playing,  and  their  colors \nflying,   each   one    supplied    with    sixteen   rounds  of \n\n\n300  IN  TH'E   GRIP   OF  THE  ARMY. \n\nshot.  Then  there  was  a  dispute  about  quarters,  and \nfinally  some  of  the  troops  were  lodged  at  Faneuil \nHall,  others  in  the  town-house,  and  the  remainder  in \nstore-houses.  The  people  of  Boston  went  to  bed  that \nnight  feeling  that  they  lived  in  a  garrisoned  town, \nand  that  his  \"  gracious  Majesty  \"  was  a  cruel  father. \n\nThere  was  a  period  of  quiet  after  the  arrival  of  the \ntroops,  though  it  was  the  calm  before  a  storm  ;  the \npeople  were  not  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  soldiers, \nand  were  in  fear  ;  day  by  day  their  discontent  be- \ncame more  manifest.  Very  little  matters  irritated \nthe  citizens  ;  they  were  accustomed  to  the  night- \nwatch  of  the  town,  but  they  did  not  like  to  be \nstopped  and  called  upon  to  answer  for  themselves \nby  an  armed  sentinel ;  they  objected  to  the  noise  of \ndrum  and  fife  and  the  sight  of  marching  men  on \nSunday.  The  general  and  the  other  military  ofificers \nwere  desirous  of  avoiding  unnecessary  irritation  of \nthe  people,  and  the  rules  of  the  army  were  relaxed, \nas  far  as  consistent  with  discipline  ;  but  it  was  not \nat  all  the  desire  of  certain  citizens  that  the  army \nshould  appear  inoffensive.  Every  occasion  of  dis- \nturbance was  taken  up  and  magnified  by  the  papers, \nand  the  intruders  were  made  as  odious  as  possible. \n\nAt  the  same  time,  patriotism  was  stimulated  in \nevery  way.  Students  of  Harvard  College,  \"  with  a \nspirit  becoming  Americans,\"  bound  themselves  to \nuse  no  more  tea,  which  was  stigmatized  as  \"  that \ndespised  article,\"  the  \"  pernicious  herb,\"  and  by  the \nsixth  of  October  two  hundred  families  in  Boston  had \nalso  agreed  to  give  up  its  use.  The  agreement  ex- \ntended to  other  towns,  as  also  to  other  provinces. \n\n\nTHE    WOMEN  OF  BOSTON.  30I \n\nCongenial  and  innocent  amusements  were  renounced, \none  reason  being  that  they  would  necessarily  have  to \nbe  shared  with  men  who  were  the  \"  instruments  of \ndespotism  \"  ;  and  when  the  British  officers,  thinking \nthat  the  prevailing  gloom  was  disloyal,  endeavored  to \nengage  the  fashionable  classes  in  assemblies,  no  ladies \noutside  of  their  own  limits  favored  the  occasions \nwith  their  presence.  \"  Elegant  manners,  gay  uni- \nforms, animating  bands  of  musick,  the  natural  im- \npulse of  youth, — all  were  resisted  ;  the  women  of \nBoston  refused  to  join  in  ostentatious  gayety  while \ntheir  country  was  in  mourning,\"  as  the  contemporary \njournals  tell  us. \n\nDuring  the  closing  weeks  of  1768,  Boston  was \ndisturbed  in  many  ways  by  the  presence  of  the \nsoldiery ;  outrages  were  complained  of  every  day ; \nthere  were  drunken  brawls  in  the  streets ;  men \nwere  knocked  down  at  night  ;  women  were  in- \nsulted by  day  ;  one  Captain  Wilson  was  accused  of \nexciting  the  slaves  against  their  masters  ;  a  trades- \nman was  thrust  at  by  a  soldier  with  a  bayonet  as  he \nwas  going  under  the  rails  of  the  Common  on  his  way \nhome;  a  merchant  was  struck  down  by  an  officer; \nand  finally  John  Hancock  was  arrested  by  the  com- \nmissioners for  some  matter  connected  with  the \nseizure  of  his  sloop  Liberty.^  The  Superior  Court \nconvened  on  the  eighth  of  November,  in  the  town- \nhouse,  where  troops  were  quartered,  and  Mr.  Otis \nmoved  to  have  the  session  in  Faneuil  Hall,  for,  as \nhe  said,  \"  not  only  might  the  stench  occasioned  by \n\n*  The  charges,   Mr.   Bancroft  says,  were  \"confidently  made,  but \nnever  established.\"     \"  History  of  the  U.  S.,\"  vol.  vi.,  page  213. \n\n\n302  IN    THE   GRIP    OF    THE   ARMY. \n\nthe  troops  in  the  representative's  chamber  prove  in- \nfectious,\" but  because  it  was  derogatory  to  the  court \nto  administer  justice  at  the  mouths  of  cannon  and \nthe  points  of  bayonets.  In  May,  1769,  the  general \ncourt  came  together,  and,  finding  the  building  sur- \nrounded by  troops,  Otis  rose,  and  in  a  short  speech \ndeclared  that  it  was  unworthy  of  a  free  legislature  to \ndeliberate  in  the  presence  of  the  military,  and  moved \nthat  the  governor  be  called  upon  to  order  the  imme- \ndiate removal  of  the  soldiery,  by  sea  and  land,  out  of \nthe  port  and  gates  of  the  city  during  the  sessions.* \nThe  governor  replied  that  he  had  no  control  over  the \ntroops  ;  and  the  legislature  thereupon  declined  to  at- \ntend to  business,  upon  which  Bernard  adjourned  the \nbody  to  Cambridge.  It  assembled  in  the  chapel  of \nHarvard  College,  and  the  students  naturally  came  to \nhear  the  discussions.  Otis,  following  the  example \nset  by  Samuel  Adams  twenty-six  years  before,  took \nadvantage  of  the  occasion  to  excite  the  young  men \nwith  the  enthusiasm  that  he  was  controlled  bv.  He \nexpatiated  on  the  darkness  of  the  times,  spoke  of  the \n\"  persecution  \"  under  which  the  colony  was  suffering, \n\n*  It  has  lieen  remarked  that  the  leaders  in  the  cohiiiial  legislature \nwere  also  the  leaders  in  the  councils  of  the  town  of  Boston.  It  is  natu- \nral, therefore,  to  find  that  this  action  had  been  taken  by  the  selectmen, \nbefore  the  town-meeting  at  which  the  Boston  delegates  were  chosen. \nThey  waited  upon  General  Gage,  and  informed  him  that  an  election \nwas  to  occur  on  May  5th,  and  that  the  presence  of  the  troo])s  was  not \nin  accordance  with  the  rights  of  British  subjects.  Gage  replied  that \nthough  he  could  not  march  the  soldiers- out  of  town,  he  would  confine \nthem  to  their  barracks  ;  but  even  that  was  not  considered  sufificient, \nand  the  town  protested  that,  though  the  election  should  be  held,  the \nact  should  not  be  esteemed  a  precedent  at  any  future  time. \n\n\nHARVARD    STUDENTS  ROUSED.  303 \n\nmade  rapid  and  glowing  allusions  to  the  classic  models \nof  patriotism  that  then  formed  the  study  of  the \nyoung  men,  which  they  might  soon  be  called  upon \nto  emulate,  and  assured  them  that  they  might  ere- \nlong have  an  opportunity  to  perform  the  noblest  of \nall  duties, — to  serve  their  country,  even,  perhaps,  to \ngive  up  to  her  their  lives.  The  students  were  roused \nto  a  high  pitch  of  excitement,  for  they  already  held \nthe  principles  that  Otis  recommended,  and  were  pre- \npared to  be  affected  by  such  an  eloquent  harangue. \n\nThe  legislature  resolved  to  petition  the  king  to \nremove  Governor  Bernard,  who  had  lost  all  the  little \npopularity  that  he  ever  possessed  by  writing  letters \nto  the  British  ministers,  in  which  he  urged  measures \nthat  were  considered  prejudicial  to  American  inter- \nests. Probably  this  petition  had  no  more  to  do  with \nthe  recall  of  the  governor  than  similar  less  public \nprayers  had  had  ;  but  the  following  day  he  announced \nthat  he  was  called  to  London  to  give  a  report  to  the \nking  of  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  colony.  The  legis- \nlature asserted  that  it  was  owing  to  his  misrepresen- \ntations to  the  ministers  that  the  military  force  was, \nat  the  time,  quartered  in  the  town  of  Boston  ;  that \nhe  was  an  avowed  enemy  of  the  colony  and  of  the \nnation  in  general ;  that  he  was  wanton  and  precipitate \nin  his  official  actions,  and  acted  against  the  spirit  of \na  free  constitution. \n\nPerhaps  the  ministers  thought  that  there  might  be \nsome  truth  in  the  statement  that  the  troubles  in  Bos- \nton were  owing  to  the  injudicious  actions  of  Bernard. \nHe  did  not  again  assume  the  duties  of  governor  of \nMassachusetts.     The  day  of  his  departure  was  made \n\n\n304  IN    THE   GRIP   OF   THE  ARMY. \n\na  time  of  rejoicing ;  flags  were  raised,  bells  pealed \nforth  their  liveliest  notes,  cannons  roared,  Fort  Hill \nwas  crowned  with  a  huge  bonfire  that  night,  and \nLiberty  Tree  was  exultantly  adorned.  This  gov- \nernor's character  has  been  blackened  by  writers  since \nhis  day,  as  it  was  at  the  time  ;  but  he  was  apparently \nan  honest  supporter  of  prerogative,  and  not  an  un- \nprincipled trickster  as  he  has  been  represented.  He \nhad  education,  refinement,  and  good  taste  ;  but  he \ndid  not  know  how  to  govern  Massachusetts  in  a  way \nthat  would  please  its  citizens.  It  is  not  easy  to  say, \neven  now,  how  any  man  could  have  filled  the  place \nthat  he  held  to  the  satisfaction  of  Samuel  Adams \nand  King  George  at  once.  He  is  credited  with  hav- \ning brought  about  the  Revolution  by  his  injudicious \nmanagement  of  affairs ;  but  it  is  probable  that  the \nRevolution\" would  not  have  been  greatly  retarded \nby  the  most  judicious  governor  that  England  could \nhave  sent  to  Massachusetts. \n\n\nXXII. \n\n\nBLOOD   IS   SPILLED. \n\n\nAt  the  time  that  Governor  Bernard  left  Bos- \nton, the  public  life  of  James  \"Otis,  long  one  of  the \npopular  idols  of  the  town,  and  one  of  the  most \ninfluential  of  the  group  of  patriots,  practically  came \nto  an  end.  Otis  had  labored  with  all  his  might,  and \nhis  mind  began  to  show  the  effects  of  overwork ;  he \ngrew  garrulous  and  reckless  in  his  utterances,  he  was \nirritable  and  curiously  eccentric.  The  abuse  and \nfalse  charges  that  were  made  against  the  popular \nparty,  and  largely  against  him,  specially  aroused  his \nindignation,  and  by  means  of  an  ill-advised  advertise- \nment, inserted  in  the  Boston  Gazette  of  September  4, \n1769,  he  took  occasion  to  give  vent  to  his  disordered \nfancies  in  very  plain  word-s,  addressed  to  the  four \ncommissioners  of  customs,  whom  he  mentioned  by \nname.  The  following  evening  he  encountered  one \nof  these  commissioners  at  the  British  Coffee-House, \nand  there  was  an  altercation,  from  which  Mr.  Otis \ncame  out  bearing  severe  wounds  that  had  been  given \nwith  a  sword  in  the  hands  of  the  commissioner.  The \noccurrence  excited  the  public  mind,  already  in  a \nfeverish  state,  and  intensified  the  opposition  to  the \ngovernment. \n\n305 \n\n\nOtis  took  legal  measures  against  the \n\n\n3o6  BLOOD   IS   SPILLED. \n\ncommissioner,  and  recovered  two  thousand  pounds \ndamages,  not  a  penny  of  which  would  his  proud  spirit \nallow  him  to  accept  above  the  doctor's  bill  and  the \nactual  expenses  of  the  trial,  as  the  records  of  the \nSupreme  Judicial  Court  of  Massachusetts  still  testify. \nMr.  Otis  was  from  this  time  seen  little  in  the  coun- \ncils of  Boston  and  of  the  colony,  the  leadership  de- \nvolving more  exclusively  upon  Samuel  Adams  ;  but \nthe  cause  did  not  suffer,  as  the  friends  of  the  king \nsupposed  it  would,  if  only  \"  Otis  and  two  or  three \nmore  factious   leaders-  could   be   removed.\" \n\nThe  place  occupied  by  Bernard  was  taken  now  by \nThomas  Hutchinson,  lieutenant-governor,  whose  his- \ntory we  are  already  somewhat  familiar  with.  De- \nscended from  worthy  Puritan  ancestors,  a  graduate \nof  Harvard  College,  possessing  ample  wealth,  and \nagreeable  manners,  he  had  been  at  this  time  in  pub- \nlic life  for  more  than  thirty  years.  He  had  been \nselectman  of  the  town,  a  member  of  the  colonial \nlegislature,  and  its  agent  in  London,  and  latterly  he \nhad,  as  has  been  stated,  held  a  number  of  almost \nincompatible  ofifices, — offices  possessing  both  legis- \nlative and  judicial  functions, ^ — that  the  leaders  in \nBoston,  at  least,  thought  incompatible,  however \njudiciously  their  duties  may  have  been  performed. \nHe  had  been  opposed  by  Adams  in  the  past,  and  now \nthat  patriot  becomes  the  one  among  the  opponents \nthat  he  had  to  meet  whom  he  deemed  of  any  im- \nportance. Hutchinson  called  Adams  \"  the  master \nof  the  puppets,\"  a  title  that  is  not  just  to  the \nstrong  men  who  were  about  him,  though  the  ability \nwith  which  Adams  directed  legislation  and  popular \n\n\nLONDON   TEMPTS  BOSTON.  307 \n\nmovements  forces  us  to  allow  that  it  had  a  remark- \nable significance. \n\nThe  breach  between  the  Bostonians  and  the  king \nwidened  in  a  very  natural  way.  When  Governor \nBernard  returned  to  London  he  was  looked  upon  as \none  who  must  be  acquainted  with  the  sentiments  of \nthe  Americans,  and  his  counsel  was  accepted  accord- \ningly, as  based  upon  thorough  information.  When, \ntherefore  he  assured  the  Londoners  that  the  most \nrespectable  of  the  Boston  merchants  would  not  ad- \nhere to  their  non-importation  agreements,  merchants \nin  England  were  encouraged  to  renew  their  exporta- \ntions.  In  the  autumn  of  1769  Samuel  Adams  re- \nceived intimations  that  large  importations  might \nsoon  be  expected  \"  under  ministerial  favor.\"  This \ninformation  was  correct.  On  September  4th  an \nagent  arrived,  charged  with  a  considerable  consign- \nment of  goods.  The  merchants  who  had  agreed  not \nto  receive  such  importations  held  a  meeting  the \nnext  day,  at  which  they  directed  that  the  goods \nshould  be  returned  to  England.  The  town  of  Bos- \nton, which  Hutchinson  said  was  the  \"  chief  seat  of \nthe  opposition,\"  held  a  meeting  likewise,  and  began \na  list  of  those  who  had  made  themselves  \"  infamous\" \nby  violating  the  non-importation  agreement,*  in \norder  \"  that   posterity  might   know  who   those  per- \n\n*  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  was  most  ardent  in  urging  retaliation  on \nGreat  Britain,  and  insisted  upon  breaking  off  not  only  business  rela- \ntions, but  also  \"all  social  intercourse  with  those  whose  commerce \ncontaminates,  whose  luxuries  poison,  whose  avarice  is  unsatiable,  and \nwhose  unnatural  oppressions  are  not  to  Ije  borne.\"  {Boston  Gazette, \nFeb.  12,  1770.)  \"Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr..\"  by \nJosiah  Quincy,  page  23. \n\n\n308  BLOOD    TS   SPILLED. \n\nsons  were  that  preferred  their  little  advantage  to \nthe  common  interest  of  all  the  colonies  in  a  point \nof  the  greatest  importance.\"  At  the  same  meeting \na  strong  committee  was  appointed  to  vindicate  the \ntown  from  the  false  imputations  put  upon  it  by \nBernard,  Gage,  and  others,  in  their  letters,  and  after \na  delay  of  but  two  weeks  an  \"  Appeal  to  the  World,\" \nappeared,  from  the  pen  of  Samuel  Adams.  In  this \nthe  town  calmly  placed  itself  on  record  as  determined \nnever  to  consider  its  wrongs  redressed  until  the \nwhole  assumed  right  of  taxation  was  renounced  by \nEngland,  whose  ministers  were  thus  boldly  warned \nagainst  the  consequences  of  persistence  in  the  action \nurged  by  the  governor  and  others  like-minded. \n\nConsiderable  forbearance  was  shown  by  the  troops \nat  this  time,  for  the  people  often  goaded  them  al- \nmost beyond  endurance;  and  though  Hutchinson \nthought  that  matters  ought  to  have  gone  to  extrem- \nities, he  doubted  his  authority  to  order  the  soldiers \nto  fire  upon  the  populace.  In  October  an  informer \nwho  had  given  evidence  regarding  some  wine  that \nhad  been  smuggled  from  Rhode  Island,  was  tarred \nand  feathered  and  carried  in  a  cart  accompanied  by \na  large  concourse  of  people,  and  at  last  was  brought \nto  the  Liberty  Tree,  where  he  was  obliged  to  swear \nnever  to  be  guilty  \"  of  a  like  crime  in  the  future.\"  An \nintelligent  Scotch  bookseller,  who  published  a  news- \npaper which  found  its  interest  in  supporting  the  gov- \nernment, was  threatened  with  the  like  treatment,  but \nescaped.  In  many  other  ways  the  soldiers  were \noffered  opportunities  to  interfere,  but  they  were  re- \nstrained until  the  following  spring.  Meantime  the \nfirst  blood  was  spilled. \n\n\n\"  THE   FIRST  MARTYR\"  309 \n\nOn  the  twenty-second  of  February,  1770,  some \nboys  set  up  a  board  before  the  shop  of  an  importer* \nnamed  Lillie,  who  had  been  denounced  for  breaking \nthe  non-importation  agreement,  on  which  were \ncarved  the  faces  of  four  similar  offenders.  One \nRichardson,  an  informer,  endeavored  to  persuade \nsome  country  teamsters  to  drive  their  carts  against \nthe  board  and  to  throw  it  down,  and  this  incensed \nthe  crowd  that  stood  around.  Insulting  language \nwas  used  on  both  sides ;  boys  threw  stones  at \nRichardson  ;  he  withdrew  to  his  house,  shut  himself \nin,  and  at  last  fired  upon  the  crowd.  Two  boys \nwere  wounded,  one  of  whom,  Christopher  Schneider, \naged  eleven,  died  the  next  day.  The  bells  of  the \nNew  Brick  were  set  ringing,  a  vast  concourse  col- \nlected, Richardson  was  arrested  and  held  for  trial.f \nSchneider  died  at  his  father'  s  house  on  Frog  Lane, \nnow  Boylston  Street,  and  was  announced  as  the \n\"  first  martyr  to  the  noble  cause,\"  the  \"  first  victim  to \nthe  cruelty  and  rage  of  oppressors.\"  Opportunity \nwas  taken  to  have  an  impressive  funeral.  The  little \ncorpse  was  brought  to  the  Liberty  Tree  on  Monday, \nthe  twenty  sixth,  in  a  cofifin  that  bore  Latin  inscrip- \ntions adapted  to  excite  the  lookers-on.  Six  of  the \nboy's  playfellows  acted  as  pall-bearers  ;  a  procession  of \nfour  hundred  or  more  schoolboys  marched  in  couples \nbefore  the  body ;  thirteen  hundred  citizens  followed \n\n*  This  shop  was  near  the  Second  Church  or  New  Brick,  which \nthen  stood  on  Hanover  Street.  The  church  was  surmounted  by  the \nlarge  gilded  cock  shown  in  Revere's  picture  of  Boston,  which  now \nstands  on  the  spire  of  the  Shepard  Memorial  Church  in  Cambridge. \n\n\\  Richardson  was  found  guilty  of  murder,  but  was  finally  pardoned \nby  the  king,  Hutchinson  having  refused  to  sign  a  warrant  for  his \nexecution. \n\n\n3IO  BLOOD   IS   SPILLED. \n\non  foot,  and  many  chariots  and  chaises  closed  the \nprocession,  which  made  a  lasting  impression  on  the \nbeholders;  and  indeed  the  whole  of  the  citizens \nshared  the  sadness,  or  reflected  upon  the  conse- \nquences that  might  flow  from  the  circumstance  that \n\"the  son  of  a  poor  German,\"  as  Hutchinson  ex- \npressed it,  had  been  killed. \n\nDoubtless  the  funeral  was  exasperating  to  Hut- \nchinson and  to  the  soldiers,  who  were  cordially  hated \nby  the  populace,  as  the  constant  bruising  affrays \nbetween  them  amply  testif}-.  The  troops  were  some \nof  them  quartered  in  \"  Murray's  Barracks,\"  near  the \nformer  site  of  the  Brattle  Street  church,  and  most \nof  the  remainder  just  south  of  King  Street,  the \nmain  guard  being  directly  opposite  the  south  door \nof  the  town-house.  A  sentinel  was  placed  in  a \ntunnel  or  covered  passage  between  Cornhill  and \nBrattle  Street,  then  known  as  Draper's  or  Boylston's \nalley.  The  position  of  the  soldiers  became  more \nand  more  difficult,  and  within  a  week  after  the  fune- \nral a  notable  affray  occurred  between  the  twenty- \nninth  regiment  and  some  men  employed  in  one  of \nthe  rope-walks  *  near  the  present  Post-office  Square, \nwhich  was  not  far  from  the  home  of  Samuel  Adams. \nIt  is  impossible  to  determine  on  which  side  the  fault \n\n*  Rope  making  was  one  of  the  most  important  industries  in  early \nBoston.  It  dates  from  1641  or  1642,  when  John  Harrison  set  up  his \nestablishment  on  ground  at  the  foot  of  Sumner  Street,  afterwards \n\"  purchased  \"  by  the  town,  whence  the  name  of  the  street  on  wliich \nSamuel  Adams  lived, — Purchase  Street.  In  1712  Edward  Gray  began \nhis  business  on  a  tract  near  Pearl  Street,  and  soon  the  family  were  the \nmost  celebrated  of  all  in  their  line  of  business.  Harrison  Gray,  grand- \nfather of  Harrison  Grav  Otis,  was  a  son  of  the  first  Edward. \n\n\nROPE-MAKERS  TROUBLE   THE   TROOPS.        31I \n\nshould  be  placed  in  this  case,  for  the  accounts  differ \nwidely ;  it  is  enough  for  our  purposes  to  know  that \nthe  strained  relations  between  the  soldiery  and  the \ntownspeople,  especially  the  less  intelligent  of  them, \nresulted  in  a  serious  street  affray,  and  that  in  the \ndesperate  encounter  several  of  the  soldiers  were  se- \nverely wounded,  while  the  rope-makers  fared  equally \nbadly.  The  soldiers  were  constantly  followed  in \nthe  streets  by  hooting  and  hissing  crowds,  and  it \nrequired  all  the  skill  of  the  officers  to  restrain  them \nfrom  showing  natural  resentment. \n\nOn  the  third  of  March  the  commanding  officer  of \nof  the  twenty-ninth  made  formal  complaint  to  Lieu- \ntenant-Governor Hutchinson  of  the  insults  that  his \nmen  had  received,  especially  from  some  of  the  men \nof  the  rope-walk,  and  on  Monday,  the  fifth,  the  mat- \nter was  brought  to  the  attention  of  the  council. \nSome  of  the  council  assured  Hutchinson  that  the \npeople  would  be  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  the \nremoval  of  the  troops,  and  another  said  that  he  knew \nthat  some  of  the  principal  citizens  had  several  times \nmet  for  the  purpose  of  consulting  about  a  plan  for \ntheir  removal.  Nothing  was  done,  however,  and \nsoon  after  nine  o'clock  that  evening,  which  was \nmoonlight,  the  danger  from  the  presence  of  the  sol- \ndiers was  proved  again.  Hutchinson  relates  that \nearly  in  the  evening  parties  of  soldiers  had  been  ob- \nserved driving  about  the  streets  as  though  there  was \nsomething  more  than  ordinary  on  their  minds,  and \nthat  the  citizens  had  been  noticed  clustering  to- \ngether; that  at  eight  o'clock  a  bell  was  rung  as  if \nfor  fire,  and  that  this  brought  a  crowd  to  the  mar- \n\n\n312  BLOOD   IS   SPILLED. \n\nket-place,  not  far  from  King  Street,  armed  with  blud- \ngeons. Whether  there  was  really  any  extraordinary \nstir  at  that  time  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  the  streets \nwere  soon  thronged  by  excited  men  and  boys  who \npelted  the  sentinels  with  bits  of  ice,  and  when  a \nbody  of  nine  soldiers  was  brought  out  and  stood \nbefore  them  with  loaded  pieces,  they  still  shouted \ncoarse  insults  and  dared  the  men  to  fire.  It  is  not \nunlikely  that  some  of  the  threats  were  thought  by \nthe  soldiers  to  be  a  command  from  their  own  ofBcer, \nCaptain  John  Preston,  for  there  was  such  a  din  that \nwords  could  with  difificulty  be  distinguished.  How- \never it  happened,  the  mass  of  confused  and  contra- \ndictory testimony  does  not  make  clear,  but  the  re- \nsults we  know.  There  lay  on  the  icy  snow  the  bodies \nof  Crispus  Attucks,  a  mulatto,  and  Samuel  Gray, \none  of  the  rope-makers  who  had  had  previous  quar- \nrels with  the  soldiers,  both  of  whom  were  active  in \nthis  affray,  and  James  Caldwell,  a  sailor.  Several \nother  persons  were  more  or  less  wounded,  and  two \nof  them  died.  The  wildest  confusion  followed ; \nPreston  restrained  his  men  from  a  second  discharge  ; \nbut  the  bells  were  rung,  the  drums  beat  to  arms, \nand  soon  King  Street  was  crowded  by  a  throng  said \nto  comprise  four  or  five  thousand  men,  Hutchinson \nappeared  and  reprimanded  Captain  Preston  for  his \nshare  in  the  affair,  while  he  called  upon  the  people \nto  retire  to  their  homes.  Being  informed  that  the \ncrowd  would  not  disperse  until  Preston  had  been \nplaced  under  arrest,  Hutchinson  had  the  captain \nbrought  before  him  and  an  investigation  was  begun \nwhich  lasted  until  three  o'clock  the  next  morning. \n\n\n''MEN  WHO  PRAY.\"  313 \n\nAs  soon  as  daylight  came  the  town  was  again  filled \nwith  buzzing  crowds,  that  gathered  from  the  coun- \ntry around  to  learn  every  detail  of  the  thrilling \nevents.  An  informal  town-meeting  was  held  in \nFaneuil  Hall  at  eleven  o'clock,  at  which  witnesses \nof  the  affray  gave  their  accounts  of  what  had \noccurred,  and  Samuel  Adams  made  an  address.  A \ncommittee  was  sent  to  the  governor,  to  tell  him \nagain  that  the  peace  could  not  be  preserved  while \nthe  troops  remained,  and  a  more  formal  town-meet- \ning was  appointed  for  three  in  the  afternoon,  so \nurgent  was  the  emergency  considered.  At  the  ap- \npointed hour  the  people  came  to  the  hall,  but  it  was \nfound  too  contracted  for  the  throng,  and  an  adjourn- \nment was  had  to  the  Old  South,  where  the  result \nof  the  interview  with  Hutchinson  was  awaited  with \nbreathless  interest.  The  crowd,  as  it  passed  from \nthe  hall  to  the  meeting-house,  went  over  the  ground \nstill  stained  by  the  blood  shed  the  evening  before, \nand  under  the  windows  of  the  town-house  in  which \nAdams  and  the  others  were  engaged  in  their  im- \nportant argument  with  Hutchinson.  \"  This  multi- \ntude are  not  such  as  pulled  down  your  house,\"  said \none  of  the  council  to  the  lieutenant-governor,  as  the \npeople  passed  beneath  their  eyes ;  \"  but  they  are \nmen  of  the  best  characters,  men  of  estates,  and  men \nof  religion  ;  men  who  pray  over  what  they  do.\" \n\nInto  this  determined  crowd  Samuel  Adams  soon \nissued  at  the  head  of  the  committee,  with  the  report \nthat  the  regiments  could  not  both  be  removed ;  that \nonly  one  was  to  go  ;  and  as  he  passed  along  with \nbowed  head,  he  whispered  to  those  near  him  :  \"  Both \n\n\n314  BLOOD  IS  SPILLED. \n\nregiments  or  none  !  Both  regiments  or  none !  \" \nOnce  inside  of  the  crowded  building,  the  report  was \nformally  announced  that  the  twenty-ninth,  because \nof  the  part  it  had  played  in  the  affray,  was  to  be \nremoved  to  the  Castle,  but  that  the  fourteenth  would \nremain  in  town.  Then  the  shout  of  the  people,  who \nremembered  their  cue,  burst  forth  in  deafening \npower:  \"  Both  regiments  or  none!  Both  regiments \nor  none  !\"  A  new  committee  was  carefully  selected, \nand  Hancock  and  Adams  were  counted  in  it,  with \nJoseph  Warren,  the  eloquent  physician.  These  gen- \ntlemen returned  to  the  council-chamber  and  reported \nto  the  lieutenant-governor  the  determination  of  the \npeople.  Adams  spoke  in  his  usual  manner,  arguing, \nas  he  had  so  often  argued,  against  the  legality  of  quar- \ntering troops  on  the  people  in  time  of  peace  without \nthe  consent  of  the  legislature,  and  insisting  upon  the \nnecessity  of  the  removal  of  them  all.  To  this  Hutch- \ninson replied  that  the  presence  of  the  soldiers  was \nboth  legal  and  necessary,  and  that  they  were,  how- \never, not  under  his  command.  Adams  replied  that \nif  he  had  power  to  remove  one,  he  had  power  to \nremove  both  regiments.  \"  A  multitude,\"  said  he, \n\"  highly  incensed,  now  wait  the  result  of  this  appli- \ncation. The  voice  of  ten  thousand  freemen  demands \nthat  both  regiments  be  forthwith  removed.  Their \nvoice  must  be  respected,  their  demand  obeyed.  Fail \nnot,  then,  at  your  peril,  to  comply  with  this  requisi- \ntion. On  you  alone  rests  the  responsibility  of  this \ndecision  ;  and  if  the  just  expectations  of  the  people \nare  disappointed,  you  must  be  answerable  to  God \nand   your   country   for    the  fatal   consequences  that \n\n\no \n\n\nX \n\n\no \n\n•^     CO \n\n\no   z \n\nc/3      PQ \n\n\n2     <^ \n\nr    1  l-l \n\n\nt. \n\nQ \n\na \n\nZ \n\n--* \n\na \n\nen \n\na \n\n\"P \n\n'<;;; \n\n'■r\\ \n\nes \n\n;d \n\nen \n\n— ' \n\nZ \n\n~\" \n\no \n\nH \n\nU \n\nh- 1 \n\nz \n\n') \n\nC/J \n\nK \n\nhH \n\nin \n\n< \n\n^. \n\n^ \n\noj \n\nn \n\n3 \n\nO \n\ni-H \n\n^ \n\nM \n\n<: \n\n-n \n\na \n\nJ \n\no \n\na \n\nw \n\nX \n\nH \n\n3l6  BLOOD  IS  SPILLED. \n\nmust  ensue.\"  Hutchinson  declares  that  he  indiV- \nnantly  resented  the  menace  and  absolutely  refused \nto  dismiss  the  troops.  However,  after  a  long  debate, \nthe  commander  of  the  forces,  Lieutenant-Colonel \nDalrymple,  gave  his  word  of  honor  as  a  soldier  that \nthe  removal  should  take  place  at  once,  and  the  com- \nmittee returned  to  the  waiting  crowd  at  the  church \nto  announce  the  news.  The  report  was  received \nwith  tokens  of  great  satisfaction,  but  the  cautious \ncitizens  did  not  feel  like  adjourning  until  they  had \nappointed  the  gentlemen  who  had  just  waited  on \nthe  authorities  a  Committee  of  Safety,  and  had \nmade  arrangements  for  a  strong  night-watch  in \nwhich  the  most  important  citizens  were  afterwards \ncalled  upon  to  carry  their  muskets  and  cartridge- \nboxes.  This  guard  was  continued  until  every  sol- \ndier had  left  town. \n\nBefore  the  troops  could  be  removed,  on  the  fol- \nlowing Thursday,  March  8th,  the  funerals  of  the \nslain  were  celebrated  with  all  the  pomp  that  Boston \nwas  capable  of  displaying  at  the  time.  The  assem- \nblage was  the  \"  largest  ever  known \"  '^\\  the  bells \nwere  tolled  in  Boston,  Cambridge,  Roxbury,  Charles- \ntown  ;  the  bodies  of  Caldwell  and  Attucks,  the \nfriendless  ones  among  the  victims,  were  taken  to \nFaneuil  Hall,  Maverick's  was  borne  from  his  moth- \ner's home  on  Union  Street,  and  that  of  Gray  from \nhis  brother's  on  Royal  Exchange  Lane.  The  four \nhearses  formed  a  junction  on  the  fatal  King  Street, \n\n*  This  estimate  of  the  numbers  in  public  gatherings  is  often  re- \npeated liy  enthusiastic  narrators,  and  probably  means  that  the  crowd \nwas  great. \n\n\nFUNERALS  OF  THE  MASSACRED,  317 \n\nand  thence  the  procession  continued  six  deep  to  the \nMiddle  or  Granary  Burying-ground,  where  the  bodies \nwere  solemnly  laid  in  a  single  grave.  Thus  the  last \nview  that  the  retreating  soldiers  had  of  King  Street \nwas  marked  by  the  passage  of  thousands  of  Bostonians \ndoing  honor  to  the  men  whose  taunts  and  insults  had \ngoaded  them  beyond  endurance,  and  they  felt  the- \nhumiliation  of  their  situation  as  they  gave  way  be- \nfore the  successful  \"  bullies  \"  of  the  little  town  who \nhad  put  them  to  ignominious  flight.  It  was  not \n\"  ignominious  \"  in  Dalrymple,  however,  to  take  his \nmen  away  from  an  infuriated  populace  ;  there  were \nthen  thousands  of  sturdy  New  Englanders  in  the \ntowns  about,  ready  to  crowd  into  Boston  at  the \nproper  signal ;  and  what  were  two  single  regiments \nto  do  if  they  had  come  ?  It  was  foolhardy  in  Hutch- \ninson to  resist  the  demand  of  the  determined  gath- \nering at  the  Old  South.  He  had  been  w^se  the  eve- \nning before,  but  on  that  day  his  sagacity  deserted \nhim.  When  Lord  North,  the  unwise  minister  of \nKing  George,  heard  of  the  circumstances,  he  was  in- \nterested in  every  detail,  and  the  picture  of  Adams \nbefore  Hutchinson  impressed  him  so  deeply  that  he \nafterwards  called  the  fourteenth  and  twenty-ninth \n\"the  Sam  Adams  regiments.\" \n\nThe  Boston  leaders  showed  their  practical  knowl- \nedge of  human  nature  by  making  notable  the  fune- \nrals of  the  men  killed  on  the  fifth  of  March  ;  they \nshowed  it  again  when  they  put  forth  John  Adams \nand  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  patriots  whose  loyalty  could \nnot  be  aspersed,  to  defend  Preston  and  the  soldiers \nwhen  they  came  to  their  trial.     It  was  real  courage \n\n\n3l8  BLOOD   IS  SPILLED. \n\nthat  these  men  exhibited  when  they  appeared  in \ncourt  for  this  purpose,  at  a  time  when  the  public \nmind  was  exasperated  by  what  the  people  considered \nthe  \"  murder  \"  of  their  fellow-citizens  by  a  brutal \nsoldiery.*  It  is  an  instance  of  the  desire  of  Samuel \nAdams  and  the  other  leaders  to  have  their  motives \nproved  above  suspicion.  John  Adams  said,  that  he \nand  Mr.  Ouincy  heard  their  \"  names  execrated  in \nthe  most  opprobrious  terms \"  whenever  they  ap- \npeared in  the  streets  of  Boston,  by  men  who  could \nnot  restrain  their  passions  long  enough  to  let  justice \nbe  heard.  The  trials  came  off  in  October  and  No- \nvember, and  Preston  was  acquitted.  Of  the  eight \nmen,  two  were  found  \"  not  guilty,\"  and  two  were \nsentenced  to  be  slightly  branded  in  the  hand  in \nopen  court,  for  manslaughter,  after  which  all  were \ndischarged  and  sent  to  the  Castle. \n\nMagnified  into  a  patriotic  \"  struggle  for  liberty  \" \nagainst    an    oppressive    military    power,    the    King \n\n*  Mr.  Quincy's  father  wrote  from  Braintree  :  \"Good  God!  Is  it \npossible  ?  I  will  not  believe  it.  ...  I  have  been  told  that  you  have \nactually  engaged  for  Captain  Preston  ;  and  I  have  heard  the  severest \nreflections  made  upon  the  occasion,  by  men  who  had  just  before  mani- \nfested the  highest  esteem  for  you  as  one  destined  to  be  a  savior  of \nyour  country.  I  must  own  to  you,  it  has  filled  the  bosom  of  your  aged \nand  infirm  parent  with  anxiety  and  distress.  .  .  .  I  will  not  believe  it \nunless  it  be  confirmed  by  your  own  mouth,  or  under  your  own  hand.\" \nTo  this  the  son  replied  that  the  criminals,  though  charged  with  murder, \nwere  entitled  to  all  legal  counsel  and  aid,  and  that  he  at  first  de- \nclined to  be  engaged  until  urged  by  an  Adams,  a  Hancock,  a  Moli- \nneux,  a  Gushing,  a  Henshaw,  a  Pemberton,  a  Warren,  a  Cooper,  and \na  Phillips,\"  and  added  :  \"  I  dare  affirm  that  you  and  this  whole  people \nwill  one  day  REJOICE  that  I  became  an  advocate  for  the  aforesaid \n'criminals,'  chaj-ged  with  the  murder  of  our  fellnw-cili/ens.\" — \"  Life \n^^{  Ouincy,\"  page  2S. \n\n\nPAUL  REVERE  ILLUMINATES.  319 \n\nStreet  affray  had  an  immense  influence  in  strength- \nening the  sentiment,  then  rapidly  growing,  in  favor \nof  the  independence  that  Adams  had  been  laboring \nfor.     \"  From  that  moment,\"  said  Daniel   Webster, \n\"  we  may  date  the  severance  of  the  British  empire.\" \nWhen  the  fifth  of  March  came  around,  in  1771,  some \ncitizens   gathered  in    \"  the   Manufactory  House,\"  a \nbuilding  then  standing  on  the  present  site  of  Hamil- \nton  Place  (selected  because  the  first  opposition  to \nthe  soldiers  had  been  made  there  in  1769,  when  it \nhad  been  refused  to  Governor  Bernard  as  a  barracks \nfor  the  troops),  and  listened  to  a  patriotic   address \nby  Dr.   Thomas  Young.     The  same   evening,   Paul \nRevere  had  his  house  in  North  Square  illuminated, \nexhibiting  in   one  window   a   representation   of  the \nghost  of  young  Schneider,  in  another  a  view  of  the \n\"  Massacre,\"  and  in  a  third  the  Genius  of  America  in \ntears.     Several  thousand  persons  thronged  about  the \nhouse,  and  a  melancholy  gloom  and  solemn  silence \nsubdued  them  as  they  looked,  which  were  intensified \nby  the  dismal  tolling  of  the  bells  on  the  meeting- \nhouses from  nine  to  ten  o'clock.     This  was  a  private \ncelebration,  but  in  accordance  with  their  policy  of \nemphasizing  any  event  that  might  increase  the  dif- \nferences between  the  people  and   the   government, \nthe  leaders  dignified  the   King  Street  encounter  by \ncalling   it    \"  the    Boston    Massacre,\"   and   then   cele- \nbrating its  anniversary.     The  fourteenth  of  August \nwas  no  longer  honored,  as  it  had  been,  for  the  stamp- \nact  riot;  and,  until  1783,  when  the  Fourth  of  July \nbecame  the  day  for  stirring  up  the  patriotism  of  the \npeople,  the  fifth  of  March  was  taken  advantage  of  by \n\n\n320  BLOOD   IS   SPILLED. \n\nthe  delivery  of  an  annual  oration,  and  by  a  com- \nmemoration of  the  \"  martyrs  \"  of  the  day.  The \nfollowing  lines,  which  were  circulated  at  the  time  of \nthe  funeral  of  the  victims,  show  the  spirit  in  which \nthe  affair  was  regarded. \n\n\"  Well-fated  shades  !  let  no  unmanly  tear \nFrom  Pity's  eye  disdain  your  honored  bier  ; \nLost  to  their  view,  surviving  friends  may  mourn, \nYet  o'er  thy  pile  shall  flames  celestial  burn  ; \nLong  as  in  Freedom's  cause  the  wise  contend. \nDear  to  your  country  shall  your  fame  extend, \nWhile  to  the  world  the  lettered  stone  shall  tell \nHow  Caldwell,  Attucks,  Gray,  and  Maverick  fell.\" \n\n\nXXIII. \n\n\nSTIRRING   UP   A   CONTINENT. \n\n\nThe  day  of  the  Boston  \"  Massacre  \"  was  that  on \nwhich  parliament  removed  all  of  its  odious  duties \nexcept  that  upon  tea,  which  was  retained  in  order  to \ninsist  that  England  still  had  the  right  to  impose  such \ntaxes  on  her  colonists.  The  \"  Massacre  \"  itself  had \nthe  influence  of  making  the  opponents  of  Boston  in \nEngland  still  more  determined  that  the  spirit  of  the \nAmericans  should  be  broken,  and  it  made  the  Bos- \ntoneers  more  firm  in  their  opposition  to  all  encroach- \nments upon  their  \"  liberties.\"  Hutchinson  was  now \nmore  than  ever  jealous  and  afraid  of  the  influence  of \nBoston  in  the  councils  of  the  colony,  and  in  calling \nthe  legislature  together  he  mentioned  Cambridge  as \nthe  place  of  meeting.  He  had  thought  of  Salem, — \n\"  the  further  from  Boston  the  better,\"  he  said. \nThis  fear  on  the  part  of  colonial  governors  was  no \nnew  thing  ;  we  have  seen  the  legislature  meet  before \nthis  at  Cambridge,  and  we  shall  yet  see  it  meet  at \nSalem.  Hutchinson  thought  the  legislature  as  a \nwhole  \"  sour  and  troublesome  enough,\"  but  all  the \nother  delegates  were  comparatively  easy  to  manage, \nand  he  said  :  \"  I  am  very  sure,  if  the  members  of \nBoston  were  out  of  the  house,  I  should  find  a  ma- \n\n321 \n\n\n322  STIRRING    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\njority  in  favor  of  the  government.\"  All  that  the \nother  towns  can  do,\"  he  exclaimed,  \"  will  be  a  perfect \ntrifle  compared  with  the  trouble  the  town  of  Boston \ngives  me.  ...  I  would  give  up  all,  if  the  town \ncould  be  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  province. \n.  .  .  It  is  the  common  language  of  Adams  and \nthe  rest  that  they  are  not  to  be  intimidated  by  acts \nof  parliament,  for  they  will  not  be  executed  here.\" \nThis  he  wrote  in  a  letter  to  England,  and  he  cau- \ntiously said  to  his  correspondent  :  \"  I  am  sure  you \nwill  not  suffer  what  I  write  to  come  back  again,  even \nby  rumours.\"  Hutchinson  was  to  have  occasion  not \nlong  after  this  to  mourn  that  some  of  the  things  that \nhe  had  written  came  back  again,  but  in  a  more  pow- \nerful form  than  mere  rumors. \n\nOne  of  the  results  of  the  doings  of  March  5th,  was \nthat  the  king  made  Boston  harbor  the  rendezvous \nfor  all  his  ships  stationed  in  North  America,  and  di- \nrected that  the  Castle  should  be  garrisoned  by  his \ntroops,  instead  of  by  those  of  the  province.  Hutchin- \nson lost  no  time  in  giving  up  the  keys  of  the  fortress \nto  Colonel  Dalrymple,  though  the  act  was  a  direct \ncontravention  of  the  charter,  and  while  the  lieutenant- \ngovernor  looked  upon  his  prompt  action  as  a  means \nof  giving  him  favor  at  home,  and  of  furthering  his \ndesign  to  get  the  appointment  as  successor  of  Ber- \nnard, as  well  as  a  sure  step  towards  armed  coercion, \nAdams  saw  in  it  a  stab  at  the  public  liberties  and  an \nopportunity  for  stirring  up  the  town  and  the  province \nagainst  the  government.  Both  obtained  what  they \nexpected.  It  was  but  a  few  months  before  Hutch- \ninson received  a  commission  as  governor,  with  the \n\n\nA   ROSE-COLORED  PICTURE.  323 \n\npromise  of  a  salary  directly  from  the  sovereign.  This \nprovision  for  the  salary  did  not  quiet  the  Bostonians; \nthey  looked  upon  it  as  making  the  governor  an  in- \nstrument of  the  king  in  establishing  \"  a  perfect \ndespotism,\"  as  Adams  expressed   it. \n\nGovernor  Hutchinson  draws  a  rose-colored  picture \nof  the  condition  of  affairs  in  Massachusetts  at  this \ntime.  There  was  certainly  \"  a  pause  in  politics,\"  as \nDr.  Cooper  wrote  ;  but  Hutchinson  said  that  \"  in  no \nindependent  state  in  the  world  could  the  people  have \nbeen  more  happy  than  they  were  in  the  government \nof  Massachusetts  Bay.\"  The  province,  he  asserted, \nwas  free  from  real  evils,  and  felt  so  lightly  the  ordi- \nnary burdens  that  all  people  in  a  state  of  civilization \nmust  feel,  that  in  order  to  keep  up  a  spirit  of  discon- \ntent it  was  necessary  to  excite  them  by  merely \nimaginary  evils.  Molasses  and  tea  were  the  only \narticles  that  paid  any  tax  of  account  ;  more  tea  was \nannually  imported  into  Massachusetts  legally,  in  spite \nof  the  opposition  to  its  use,  than  into  all  the  other \ncolonies,  and  the  tax  was  so  small  that  \"  the  poor \npeople  in  America  drank  the  same  tea  in  quality,  at \nthree  shillings  the  pound,  which  the  people  in  Eng- \nland drank  at  six  shillings.\"  The  governor  verily \nseemed  to  think  that  if  the  men  and  women  of  Bos- \nton only  had  enough  to  eat  and  drink,  they  ought  to \nbe  contented  ;  he  had  no  sympathy  with  the  feelings \nof  men  who  did  not  relish  the  sight  of  ships-of-war  in \ntheir  harbor,  and  of  red-coated  soldiers  in  their  streets, \ncommanded  and  paid  by  other  authorities  than  their \nown  legislature,  and  apparently  menacing  the  free- \ndom  of   their  actions.     He   did   not   realize   that  a \n\n\n324  STIRRING    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\nsmall  tax  laid  upon  an  unwilling  people  bears  harder \nthan  a  heavy  one  that  the  same  people  assume  of \ntheir  own  free-will.  He  had  so  long  trained  his  per- \nceptions to  sympathize  with  a  king,  that  he  was \nunable  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of  the  people  among \nwhom  he  had  been  born  and  bred,  and  whose  aspira- \ntions ought  to  have  been  his  own. \n\nIn  pursuance  of  the  order  making  Boston  harbor \na  place  of  rendezvous  for  the  English  fleet,  twelve \nwar  vessels  arrived  in  August,  1771,  and  another  op- \nportunity was  afforded  Samuel  Adams  for  warning \nhis  fellow  townsmen  of  the  danger,  that  was  rapidly \napproaching,  of  the  \"  slavery  \"  with  which  they  were \nthreatened.  He  told  them  that  it  was  useless  to  en- \ndeavor to  console  themselves  because  the  duty  was \nremoved  from  all  articles  excepting  tea,  because, \nthat  remaining,  it  was  plain  that  parliament  proved \nits  power  to  levy  taxes,  and  if  it  was  allowed  that  it \nhad  the  right  to  take  three  pence  because  it  pleased, \nthe  sovereign  control  of  the  purses  was  given  up  to \nit  ;  it  was  no  better  to  have  the  charter  taken  away \nin  parts  than  in  the  whole.  \"  The  liberties  of  our \ncountry,\"  he  exclaimed,  \"  the  freedom  of  our  civil \nconstitution,  are  worth  defending  at  all  hazards  ;  and \nit  is  our  duty  to  defend  them  against  all  attacks. \nWe  have  received  them  as  a  fair  inheritance  from \nour  worthy  ancestors.  They  purchased  them  for  us \nwith  toil  and  danger,  and  expense  of  treasure  and \nblood,  and  transmitted  them  to  us  with  care  and \ndiligence.  It  will  bring  an  everlasting  mark  of  in- \nfamy on  the  present  generation,  enlightened  as  it  is, \nif  we  should  suffer  them  to  be  wrested  from  us  by \n\n\nCONFLICTING  VIEWS.  325 \n\nviolence  without  a  struggle,  or  be  cheated  out  of \nthem  by  the  artifices  of  false  and  designing  men.\" \nMr.  Adams  did  not  confine  himself,  as  some  others \ndid,  to  denunciations  of  governmental  measures,  and \nappeals  to  patriotic  motives  ;  he  went  much  farther, \nand  denied  all  right  on  the  part  of  parliament  to  tax \nthe  colonies,  to  control  their  legislatures,  or  in  any \nway  to  exercise  authority  over  them. \n\nIn  January,  1772,  Hutchinson  wrote:  \"Except \nin  this  town,  there  is  now  a  general  appearance  of \ncontentment  throughout  the  province  \"  ;  for  Boston \nalways  had  to  be  excepted  in  such  statements,  though \nthere  were  many  of  her  citizens  who  did  not  burn \nwith  the  ardor  of  Samuel  Adams.*  Otis  would  not \nfollow  him  in  denying  all  parliamentary  authority  ; \nDr.  Church,  the  subsequent  traitor,  was,  as  Hutchin- \nson said,  \"  now  a  writer  on  the  side  of  government  \"  ; \neven  John  Adams,  who  had  removed  back  to  Brain- \ntree,  had  devoted  himself  anew  to  his  law  practice, \navoided  politics,  political  clubs,  and  town-meetings, \neven  refused  to  deliver  the  address  on  the  second  re- \ncurrence of  the  day  of  the  \"  Massacre,\"  and  thought \nthat  there  was  not  spirit  enough  to  bring  the  ques- \n\n*  The  king  and  his  ministers  preferred  to  believe  Bernard  and \nHutchinson  rather  than  Pownall,  and  thus  they  were  quite  deceived \nin  regard  to  the  true  state  of  public  opinion.  Hutchinson,  for  exam- \nple, \"  repeatedly  assured  the  ministry  that  a  union  of  the  colonies  was \nutterly  impracticable  ;  that  the  people  were  greatly  divided  among \nthemselves  in  every  colony  :  and  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  all \nAmerica  would  submit,  and  that  they  must,  and,  moreover,  would \nsoon  \"  (1774).  Governor  Pownall  insisted  that  all  the  measures  against \nAmerica  were  planned  and  pushed  on  by  Bernard  and  Hutchinson. \nSee  the  \"  Memoir  of  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,\"  pages  197,  205,  211,  215. \n\n\n326  STIRRING    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\ntion  to  a  decision,  that  there  would  never  be  a \nredress  of  American  grievances,  but  a  \"  trimming.\" \nThere  was  Joseph  Warren,  however,  who  could  hold \nan  audience  spellbound,  as  he  did  when  he  stood  up \nin  the  South  meeting-house,  March  5th,  of  this  year, \nand  uttered  patriotic  words  on  the  subject  of  the \nconnexion  between  England  and  the  colonies;  and \nthere  were  others  like  him  ready  to  unite  for  the \nprotection  of  right.  Samuel  Adams  had,  as  we \nknow,  long  held  in  abeyance  a  plan  for  concentra- \nting the  influence  of  all  who  were  like-minded  with \nhim,*  and  he  thought  this  a  proper  time  to  take \na  step  in  that  direction.  His  plans  were  far-reach- \ning, but  at  this  time  he  proposed  to  make  an  humble \nbeginning,  to  avoid  opposition.  As  long  ago  as  1766, \nhe  had  written  to  Gadsden,  of  South  Carolina,  that \nhe  longed  for  a  union  and  a  correspondence  between \nthe  merchants  throughout  the  continent ;  and,  in \n1 77 1,  he  wrote  again  that  when  the  liberty  of  one  is \ninvaded  the  liberty  of  all  is  in  danger,  and  that  he \nthought  it  would  be  wisdom  for  the  colonists  to  cor- \nrespond with  one  another  in  the  times  of  distress. \nAll  the  time,  from  1764  to  1774,  he  was  using  his \ninfluence  in  favor  of  concert  of  action  between  the \nprovinces. \n\nThe  king  had  established  a  salary  for  the  governor, \nand  it  was  known  that  the  judges  were  likewise  to  be \nmade  independent  of  the  people.  Boston  thought  it \nproper  to  hold  a  town-meeting  to  censure  the  gov- \nernor for  accepting  a  salary,  and  to  ask  him  if  it  was \ntrue  that  the  judges  were  to  be  paid  in  the  same \n\n*  See  chapter  xx.  for  reference  to  the  stamp-act  Congress. \n\n\nA    COMMITTEE   OF   CORRESPONDENCE.        327 \n\nmanner.  John  Hancock  was  moderator  of  the  meet- \ning, which  was  held  October  28th.  The  governor \ngave  unsatisfactory  repHes  to  the  question  pro- \npounded to  him,  and  the  freemen  became  restless. \nThen  Adams  rose,  and  moved  that  \"  A  committee \nof  correspondence  be  appointed,  to  consist  of  twen- \nty-one persons,  to  state  the  rights  of  the  colonists, \nand  of  this  province  in  particular,  as  men  and \nChristians  and  as  subjects  ;  and  to  communicate  and \npublish  the  same  to  the  several  towns  and  to  the \nworld,  as  the  sense  of  this  town,  with  the  infringe- \nments and  violations  thereof  that  have  been,  or  from \ntime  to  time  may  be  made.\"  The  discussion  on  this \nresolution  was  prolonged  into  the  evening,  and  it  is \nsaid  that  it  was  not  agreed  to  until  ten  o'clock, \nthough  then  almost  every  voter  gave  his  assent.  A \ncommittee  was  appointed,  consisting,  as  Hutchinson \nwrote  to  Pownall,  of  deacons,  atheists,  and  black- \nhearted fellows  whom  one  would  not  choose  to  meet \nin  the  dark,  though  other  historians  consider  them \nreputable  Boston  citizens.  Whatever  was  the  char- \nacter of  the  members  of  the  committee,  it  gave  life \nto  the  Revolution,  and  enabled  the  colonists  soon  to \nact  with  order  and  system,  instead  of  irregularly  and \ninharmoniously. \n\nThe  committee  reported  at  a  meeting  held  in \nFaneuil  Hall,  November  20th,  presenting  a  state- \nment of  rights,  a  statement  of  grievances,  and  a \nletter  to  the  other  towns.  The  letter  asked  for  a \nfree  expression  of  sentiment  from  each  town,  and \nrhetorically  expressed  the  confidence  that  the  people \nwere  not  prepared  to  \"  doze,  or  sit  supinely  indiffer- \n\n\n328  STIRRING    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\nent  on  the  brink  of  destruction,  while  the  iron  hand \nof  oppression  was  daily  tearing  the  choicest  fruit \nfrom  the  fair  tree  of  liberty,  planted  by  their  worthy \npredecessors,  at  the  expense  of  their  treasure,  and \nabundantly  watered  with  their  blood.\"  Six  hundred \ncopies  of  the  report  were  printed  and  sent  out,  ac- \ncording to  the  plan.  Many  persons  thought  it  was \na  trifling  and  unnecessary  scheme  ;  but  the  towns \nappointed  similar  committees,  and  through  them  re- \nechoed the  sentiments  of  Samuel  Adams,  that  the \nreport  comprised.  The  tories  ridiculed  the  affair, \nbecause  some  of  the  meetings  of  the  interior  towns \nwere  slightly  attended  ;  but  when  it  was  found  that \nalmost  all  of  them  had  adopted  the  measures  pro- \nposed, they  ceased  to  think  that  there  was  any  thing \n\"  ludicrous  \"  about  the  scheme,  and  one  of  the  ablest \nof  them  declared  that  it  was  \"  the  foulest,  subtlest, \nand  most  venomous  serpent  ever  issued  from  the  egg \nof  sedition.\"  John  Adams  wrote  of  the  feeling  else- \nwhere :  \"  They  are  still  quiet  at  the  south,  and  at \nNew  York  they  laugh  at  us.\"  In  the  south  there \nwas,  indeed,  much  jealous  fear  of  Boston.  Josiah \nQuincy,  Jr.,  met  at  Charleston  in  March,  1773,  an \nexpression  of  this  feeling  in  the  words  of  Mr.  Thomas \nShirley,  \"  a  well-bred  and  learned  but  very  warm  and \nirascible  \"  gentleman,  who  said  to  him  :  \"  Boston \naims  at  nothing  less  than  the  sovereignty  of  this \nwhole  continent, — I  know  it.  .  .  .  Take  away \nthe  power  and  superintendence  of  Britain,  and  the \ncolonies  must  submit  to  the  next  power.  Boston \nwould  soon  have  that.\" \n\nThus,  said  Hutchinson,  \"all  of  a  sudden,  from  a \n\n\nTHE  TOWNS  EXPRESS   SENTIMENTS.         329 \n\nstate  of  peace,  order,  and  general  contentment,  as \nsome  expressed  themselves,  the  province  more  or \nless  from  one  end  to  the  other  was  brought  into  a \nstate  of  contention,  disorder,  and  general  dissatis- \nfaction ;  or,  as  others  would  have  it,  was  roused \nfrom  stupor  and  inaction  to  sensibility  and  activity.\" \nThe  town  of  Gorham  wrote :  \"  It  is  better  to  risk \nour  lives  and  fortunes  in  the  defence  of  our  rights, \ncivil  and  religious,  than  to  die  by  piecemeal  in  slav- \nery.\" The  selectmen  of  Petersham  declared  that \n\"  The  late  appointment  of  salaries  to  be  paid  to  our \nsuperior  court  judges,  whose  creation,  pay,  and \ncommission  depend  upon  mere  will  and  pleasure, \ncompletes  a  system  of  bondage  equal  to  any  ever \nbefore  fabricated  by  the  combined  efforts  of  the \ningenuity,  malice,  fraud,  and  wickedness  of  man  ; \nthat  it  is  the  first  and  highest  social  duty  of  this \npeople  to  consider  of,  and  seek  ways  and  means  for \na  speedy  redress  of  these  mighty  grievances  and \nintolerable  wrongs,  and  that  for  the  obtaining  this \nend  this  people  are  warranted  by  the  laws  of  God \nand  nature  in  the  use  of  every  rightful  art  and  energy \nof  policy,  stratagem,  and  force.\" \n\nThese  meetings,  says  the  biographer  of  Samuel \nAdams,  \"  constitute  the  highest  mark  the  town- \nmeeting  has  ever  touched.  Never  before  and  never \nsince,  have  Anglo-Saxon  men,  in  lawful  folk-mote \nassembled,  given  utterance  to  thoughts  and  feelings \nso  fine  in  themselves  and  so  pregnant  with  great \nevents.  To  each  letter  stand  aflfixed  the  names  of \nthe  committee  in  autograph.  This  awkward  scrawl \nwas   made  by  the  fist  of  a  Cape  Ann  fisherman,  on \n\n\n330  STIRRING    UP   A    CONTINENT. \n\nshore  for  the  day  to  do  at  town-meeting  the  duty \nhis  fellows  had  laid  upon  him  ;  the  hand  that  wrote \nthis  other  was  cramped  from  the  scythe-handle,  as \nits  possessor  mowed  an  intervale  on  the  Connecti- \ncut ;  this  blotted  signature,  where  smutted  fingers \nhave  left  a  black  stain,  was  written  by  a  blacksmith \nof  Middlesex,  turning  aside  a  moment  from  forging \na  barrel  that  was  to  do  duty  at  Lexington.\"  * \n\nThe  result  of  the  committee's  first  effort  was  un- \nexpected, and  completely  astonished  loyalist  and \nwhig.  Hutchinson,*  who  had  written  to  Pownall \nthat  the  scheme  was  \"  foolish,\"  and  that  the  com- \nmittee must  necessarily  make  itself  ridiculous, f  now \nbecame  \"  greatly  alarmed  with  so  sudden  and  unex- \npected a  change  in  the  state  of  affairs  \"  ;  and,  as  he \nrecords  in  his  history,  \"  was  greatly  perplexed  with \ndoubts  concerning  his  own  conduct  on  the  occasion.\" \nHe  said  that  the  measure,  if  pursued  to  its  end, \nmust  cause  \"  not  a  return  of  the  colonies  to  their \nformer  submission,  but  a  total  separation  from  the \nkingdom,  by  their  independency.\"  He  alleged,  at \nabout  this  time,  that  no  line  could  be  drawn  between \nan  acknowledgment  of  the  authority  of  parliament \nand  absolute  independence,  and  it  is  dif^cult  to  con- \ntrovert his  assertion,  though  this  is  what  the  people \nof  Massachusetts  had  been  endeavoring  to  do  from \nthe  year  1 630,  when  they  first  began  to  establish  on \n\n*  \"  Samuel  Adams,\"  by  James  K.  Hosmer,  page  202. \n\n\\  In  liis  fatuity  Hutchinson  wrote,  February  23,  1773  :  \"I  have \nstopped  the  progress  of  the  towns  for  the  present  ;  and  I  think  I \nhave  stopped  the  prosecution  of  another  part  of  the  scheme,  which \nwas  for  the  assembly  to  invite  every  otlier  assembly  upon  the  Con- \ntinent to  assent  to  the  same  princiijles.\" \n\n\nHUTCHINSON  IN  A    DILEMMA.  33 1 \n\nAmerican  soil  a  government  that  professed  to  de- \npend upon  the  charter  and  not  upon  parliament  for \nits  authority. \n\nIn  his  doubt  as  to  what  steps  he  ought  to  pursue, \nHutchinson  saw  that  he  was  in  danger  of  being \nabused  both  at  home  and  in  Boston,  but  it  was  plain \nthat  unless  he  should  act  in  some  way,  he  would  be \nproperly  accused  in  England  of  conniving  at  the \nproceedings  which  he  confessed  were  unwarrantable \nand  threatening. '  He  knew  that  if  he  were  to  bring \nthe  matter  before  the  general  court  he  would  precipi- \ntate a  discussion  that  would  tax  his  abilities,  and  raise \na  flame  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  suppress.  He \ndecided,  however,  to  call  the  court  together,  and  in \nJanuary,  1773,  he  opened  its  sessions  with  a  speech \nin  which  he  argued  for  parliamentary  supremacy  in \na  cool  and  able  manner,  reviewing  past  history,  with \nwhich  he  was  fully  acquainted,  and  assuming  suc- \ncessfully an  air  of  candor  and  moderation  that  gave \na  profound  effect  to  his  words.  The  speech  was \npublished  in  the  papers  and  spread  throughout  the \ncolony  and  in  England,  the  tories  thinking  it  unan- \nswerable, and  the  patriots  being  in  some  cases  stag- \ngered by  its  arguments.  It  was  followed,  after  a \nsufficient  delay,  by  a  paper,  probably  prepared  by \nSamuel  Adams, — handed  to  the  governor  by  that \ngentleman,  at  least, — which  caused  Hutchinson  to \nfear  that  he  had  made  a  mistake  in  admitting  that \nthe  authority  of  parliament  was  a  matter  about \nwhich  it  was  possible  to  raise  a  doubt,  or  around \nwhich  a  discussion  could  be  created.  The  governor \nreplied,  and  the  court  retorted,  but  neither  party  was \n\n\n332  STIRRING    UP   A    CONTINENT. \n\nable  to  produce  conviction  in  the  mind  of  the  other; \nAdams,  however,  succeeded  in  placing  Hutchinson \nin  the  wrong,  by  making  him  sensible  that  it  was  he \nwho  had  raised  the  unfruitful  controversy.  The \ncourt  was  prorogued  on  the  sixth  of  March,  one  day \nafter  another  celebration  of  the  \"  Massacre  \"  had \noccurred  in  the  South  meeting-house.  At  that  time \nDr.  Benjamin  Church  delivered  an  eloquent  and \nlogical  oration  to  a  crowded  audience.  In  this  ad- \ndress the  speaker  said  that  he  rejoiced  that  Massa- \nchusetts had  been  alarmed  by  the  committees  of \ncorrespondence,  that  the  people  had  been  led  to \nesteem  their  rights  under  the  charter  to  be  the  \"  ark \nof  God  to  New  England.\"  He  prophesied  that \nsome  future  congress  was  to  be  the  \"  glorious  source \nof  the  salvation  of  America,\"  and  declared  that  the \nAmphictyons  of  Greece,  who  formed  the  diet  or \ngreat  council  of  the  states,  were  \"  an  excellent \nmodel  for  the  rising  Americans.\" \n\nIt  was  just  at  this  time  that  Hutchinson  wrote  the \nwords  about  the  influence  of  Boston,  and  the  cor- \nporate powers  of  the  Massachusetts  towns,  to  which \nreference  has  been  made,*  in  which  he  exposed  the \nstrength  of  the  opposition  that  he  had  to  face.  The \ngovernor  had  the  sagacity  to  see  the  great  influence \nof  the  towns,  and  he  reiterated  his  views  of  the \nsubject  to  his  different  correspondents.  He  much \nwished  that  some  change  could  be  made  in  the  char- \nter that  would  deprive  the  town-meetings  of  their \npowers,  and  thus  keep  from  the  people  the  constant \nmindfulness  of  their  rights.     The    town  of  Boston \n\n*  Letter  of  March  7lh,  1772  to  Gage,  see  page  91. \n\n\nBOSTON   COMES    TO    THE   FRONT. \n\n\n333 \n\n\nnow  proceeded  to  take  the  part  in  the  discussion  of \nprovincial  matters  that  the  governor  asserted  that  it \nwas  accustomed  to  take,  by  assembhng  ahnost  im- \nmediately   after    the    adjournment    of    the    general \n\n\nGOVERNOR  THOMAS   HUTCHINSON. \n\nAfter  a  portrait  in  possession  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  once  the \nproperty  of  Jonathan  Mayhew. \n\n\ncourt,  for  the  purpose  of  considering  the  misrepre- \nsentations of  the  governor  in  his  late  messages, \nwhich  related  to  the  meeting  of  the  town  at  which  the \ncommittees  of  correspondence  had  been  appointed. \n\n\n334  STIRRING    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\nWhile  Adams  was  thus  engaged  in  local  affairs,  so \ndeeply  that  he  could  give  no  attention  to  the  plan \nthat  he  had  so  long  hoped  to  see  realized,  for  a  com- \nmittee of  correspondence  uniting  the  different  col- \nonies, the  House  of  Burgesses  of  Virginia,  under \nthe  lead  of  such  patriots  as  Patrick  Henry  and \nRichard  Henry  Lee,  adopted  resolutions  providing \nfor  a  system  of  intercolonial  correspondence.  The \nresolutions  reached  Boston  in  time  for  action  at  the \ntown-meeting  called  for  the  purpose  of  choosing \ndelegates  to  the  general  court,  and  a  vote  was  passed \nrecommending  the  resolutions  to  the  serious  consid- \neration of  the  court.  One  of  the  arguments  men- \ntioned by  the  town  for  the  restoration  of  harmony \nwith  Great  Britain  must  have  made  some  of  the \ndelegates  smile,  for  it  was  gravely  stated  that  if \nEneland  were  cut  off  from  her  connexion  with  the \nAmerican  continent,  she  \"  must  eventually  fall  a \nprey  to  her  numerous  and  jealous  neighbors.\" \n\nThe  general  court  adopted  the  Virginia  plan  al- \nmost unanimously,  towards  the  end  of  May,  and  thus \nthere  were  two  committees  of  correspondence,  the \none  uniting  each  little  hamlet  and  every  large  town \nin  the  province  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  the \nother  extending  its  insidious  influence  to  every  legis- \nlature of  the  thirteen  colonies,  and  through  them \nstirring  up  every  patriotic  citizen  on  the  continent. \nOf  this  action  of  Massachusetts  and  Virginia,  Hutch- \ninson said  that  it  \"  ought  to  have  been  considered  as \nan  avowal  of  independency,  because  it  could  be  justi- \nfied only  on  the  principle  of  independency.\"  It  was, \nhe  asserts,  a  most  glaring  attempt  to  alter  the  con- \n\n\nMYSTERIOUS  LETTERS.  335 \n\nstitution  of  the  colonies,  against  which  England \nought  to  have  made  a  stand  ;  but  an  opinion  still \nprevailed  that  independency  was  not  the  object,  and \nthat  reasonable  concession  would  lead  to  due  sub- \nmission, \"  though  advances  were  every  day  making \nto  render  reconciliation  more  difficult.\" \n\nAmong  the  advances  that  were  making  reconcilia- \ntion more  difficult  may  be  included  an  \"  exposure  \" \nmade  at  this  time  of  some  of  the  private  correspond- \ndence  of  the  governor,  which  had  by  some  means \nfallen  into  the  hands  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  then \nagent  of  Massachusetts  in  London,  and  by  him  had \nbeen  sent  to  Boston.  Hancock,  who  was  apparently \nor  really  indignant  at  the  contents  of  these  letters, \ndetermined  to  make  them  public.  He  took  occasion \none  day  to  announce  mysteriously  that  an  important \ndisclosure  was  to  be  made  within  forty-eight  hours  ; \nwell  knowing  that  the  spectators  in  the  gallery,  that \nhad  been  set  apart  for  the  public  by  the  suggestion \nof  Otis,  would  spread  the  information  everywhere. \nThe  press  took  up  the  matter,  and  reported  that \ndark  things  were  to  be  brought  to  light  which  would \n\"make  tyrannical  rulers  tremble,  and  give  occasion \nfor  the  whole  people  to  bless  the  providence  of  God, \nwho  causeth  the  wicked  man  to  fall  into  the  pit  that \nhe  hath  digged  for  another.\"  When  the  due  time \narrived,  Samuel  Adams  asked  to  have  the  galleries \ncleared,  which,  of  course,  made  the  public  more  than \never  anxious  to  know  what  the  great  matter  was \nthat  would  cause  so  deep  a  convulsion.  The  letters \nwere  then  read,  the  injunction  being  given  that  they \nwere  not  to  be  copied  or  printed  in  whole  or  in  part. \n\n\n336  STIRRING    UP   A    CONTINENT. \n\nThey  were  given  to  a  committee,  which  reported \nthat  they  tended  and  were  designed  to  overthrow \nthe  constitution  of  the  government  and  to  introduce \narbitrary  power  into  the  province.  The  deductions \nthus  made  from  the  governor's  confidential  com- \nmunications to  his  friends  in  England  are  scarcely \nsuch  as  calm  readers  think  legitimate,  and  they  can \nonly  be  accounted  for  by  supposing  that  there  was \na  deliberate  plan  to  render  the  governor  odious  ;  or \nthat  the  patriots  had  become  so  deeply  filled  with \nthe  belief  that  all  representatives  of  the  crown  were \nplotters  against  the  liberties  of  America,  that  they \nallowed  themselves  to  be  led  captive  by  their  too \nvivid  imaginings.  Whatever  the  cause,  and  what- \never the  motives  which  actuated  Adams,  Hancock, \nand  the  rest,  the  effort  to  base  accusations  on  the \nletters  thus  theatrically  brought  to  the  public  notice \nproved  successful.  It  was  voted  that  the  governor \nhad  lost  the  confidence  of  the  people,  and  was  an \nunsuitable  instrument  for  promoting  the  interests  of \nthe  king  and  the  colonists,  and  that  it  would  be \npromotive  of  good  will,  and  of  the  good  of  His  Ma- \njesty's loyal  and  affectionate  people,  if  he  were \nremoved  from  ofifice.  This  vote,  as  well  as  the  letters \nthemselves,  was  afterwards  printed  and  distributed \nfor  the  purpose  of  exciting  the  colonists  against \nHutchinson. \n\nNews  reached  Boston  in  the  spring  of  this  year \nthat  the  East  India  Company,  which  was  embar- \nrassed by  the  accumulation  of  tea  in  England,  owing \nto  the  refusal  of  the  Americans  to  buy  it,  had  in- \nduced   parliament    to    permit    its    exportation    to \n\n\n\"THE  DETESTED    TEA.\"  337 \n\nAmerica  without  the  payment  of  the  usual  duty. \nThis  was  intended  to  bribe  the  colonists  to  buy  ;  for \nthere  had  been  a  duty  both  in  England  and  in \nAmerica.  That  in  England  was  six  pence  a  pound, \nthat  in  America,  three  pence.  Ships  were  laden  and \nsent  to  Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Charles- \nton, and  they  were  now  expected  to  arrive  in  a  short \ntime.  Samuel  Adams  felt  that  the  hour  had  arrived \nfor  his  Continental  Congress,  and  he  proposed  that \none  should  be  called,  for  the  purpose  of  drawing  up \nand  publishing  to  the  world  a  Bill  of  Rights,  of  pro- \nviding for  an  annual  congress,  and  of  choosing  an \nambassador  to  reside  at  the  British  court ;  for  he \nthought  that  there  was  no  scheme  for  preserving  the \nliberties  of  the  people,  except  by  forming  \"an \nAmerican  Commonwealth.\"  Though  Adams  labored \nearnestly  to  lead  others  to  see  as  he  saw,  his  longing \nfor  a  general  congress  was  not  to  be  satisfied  yet. \n\nAs  late  as  the  end  of  July,  1773,  George  Clymer, \nof  Philadelphia,  wrote  to  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  that  the \nidea  of  American  liberty  seemed  \"  to  have  taken \nbut  shallow  root  in  some  places,  particularly  at  New \nYork,  where  all  political  principles  are  truly  as \nunfixed  as  the  wind.  One  year  sees  the  New \nYorkers,\"  he  adds,  \"  champions  for  Liberty,  and  the \nnext  hugging  their  chains.  Our  Pennsylvanians  I \ntake  to  be  in  the  mean  betwixt  both.  I  cannot  call \nit  the  golden  mean^  This  state  of  affairs  was  soon \nto  change. \n\nThough  the  Congress  was  not  held,  all  Boston, \nand  finally  all  America,  was  excited  intensely  by  the \nexpectation  of  the  arrival  of  the  tea-ships.     Arthur \n\n\n338  '    ST/RRIXG    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\nLee  wrote  to  Adams  that  in  his  opinion  the  intro- \nduction of  the  tea  ought  to  be  opposed  ;  but  said \nthat  he  was  ready  to  be  overruled  by  his  corre- \nspondent. Adams  had  no  intention  of  opposing  such \na  plan.  He  influenced  the  Bostonians  to  adopt  it. \nThe  agents  who  had  been  appointed  to  receive  the \ntea  were  called  upon  to  resign  ;  and  as  they  refused, \na  town-meeting  was  appointed  for  November  5th,  at \nwhich  the  demand  was  renewed  ;  it  was  again  re- \nfused. Again  the  town  came  together,  and  again \nthe  demand  was  renewed,  but  the  commissioners \nstill  refused  to  resign.  The  reply  was  at  last  voted \n\"not  satisfactory,\"  and  the  meeting  immediately \nbroke  up.  This  sudden  action,  which  appeared  pre- \nconcerted, struck  terror  into  the  commissioners. \nThere  was  nothing  more  for  the  town  to  do,  and  the \ncommittee  of  correspondence,  in  connexion  with \nthose  of  Cambridge  and  of  other  towns  near  by, \ntook  the  management  of  afTairs. \n\nOn  the  twenty-eighth  of  November,  1773,  which \nwas  Sunday,  the  first  tea-ship  (the  Dartmouth)  en- \ntered the  harbor.  The  following  morning  the  citizens \nwere  informed  by  placard  that  the  \"  worst  of  plagues, \nthe  detested  tea,\"  had  actually  arrived,  and  that  a \nmeeting  was  to  be  held  at  nine  in  the  morning,  at \nFaneuil  Hall,  for  the  purpose  of  making  \"a  united \nand  successful  resistance  to  this  last,  worst,  and \nmost  destructive  measure  of  administration.\"  The \nCradle  of  Liberty  was  not  large  enough  to  contain \nthe  crowd  that  was  called  together.  Adams  rose  and \nmade  a  stirring  motion  expressing  determination \nthat  the  tea  should  not  be  landed,  and  it  was  unani- \n\n\nBREATHLESSLY    WAITING.  339 \n\nmously  agreed  to.  The  meeting  then  adjourned  to \nthe  Old  South  meeting-house,  where  the  motion  was \nrepeated,  and  again  adopted  without  an  opposing \nvoice.  The  owner  of  the  ship  protested  in  vain  that \nthe  proceedings  were  illegal  ;  a  watch  of  twenty-five \npersons  was  set,  to  see  that  the  intentions  of  the \ncitizens  were  not  evaded,  and  the  meeting  adjourned \nto  the  following  morning.  The  throng  at  that  time \nwas  as  great  as  usual,  and  while  the  deliberations \nwere  going  on,  a  message  was  received  from  the \ngovernor,  through  the  sheriff,  ordering  them  to  cease \ntheir  proceedings.  It  was  voted  not  to  follow  the \nadvice,  and  the  sheriff  was  hissed  and  obliged  to \nretreat  discomfited.  It  was  formally  resolved  that \nany  person  importing  tea  from  England  should  be \ndeemed  an  enemy  to  his  country,  and  it  was  declared \nthat  at  the  risk  of  their  lives  and  properties  the \nlanding  of  the  tea  should  be  prevented,  and  its \nreturn  effected. \n\nIt  was  necessary  that  some  positive  action  should \nbe  taken  in  regard  to  the  tea  within  twenty  days \nfrom  its  arrival,  or  the  collector  of  customs  would \nconfiscate  ships  and  cargoes.  The  time  for  this  was- \nfast  approaching,  and  all  parties  concerned  appreci- \nated the  importance  of  every  moment.  The  govern- \nor felt  that  he  was  entirely  impotent ;  his  council \ncould  not  be  depended  upon  ;  and  Hancock,  who \nwas  in  command  of  the  cadets,  declined  to  act, \nbecause  of  the  danger  to  which  he  would  be  subject. \nNo  justice  of  the  peace  even  was  ready  to  do  the \ngovernor's  bidding;  he  stood  firmly  for  prerogative, \nbut   still  argued   and  pleaded,  though  he  was  told \n\n\n340  STIRRING    UP  A    CONTINENT. \n\nthat  he  was  \"  officious,\"  and  his  acts  useless.  The \ntwenty  days  would  expire  on  the  sixteenth  of \nDecember.  On  the  fourteenth  a  crowded  meeting \nwas  held  at  the  Old  South,  and  the  importer  was \nenjoined  to  apply  for  a  clearance  to  allow  his  vessel \nto  return  with  its  cargo.  He  applied,  but  the  col- \nlector refused  to  give  an  answer  until  the  following \nday.  The  meeting  therefore  adjourned  to  the  six- \nteenth, the  last  day  before  confiscation  would  be \nlegal,  and  before  the  tea  would  be  placed  under \nprotection  of  the  ships  of  war  in  the  harbor. \n\nThere  was  another  early  morning  meeting,  and \nseven  thousand  people  thronged  about  the  meeting- \nhouse, all  filled  with  a  sense  of  the  fact  that  some- \nthing notable  was  to  occur.  The  importer  appeared \nand  reported  that  the  collector  refused  a  clearance. \nHe  was  then  directed  to  ask  the  governor  for  a  pass \nto  enable  him  to  sail  by  the  Castle.  Hutchinson  had \nretreated  to  his  mansion  at  Milton,  and  it  would  take \nsome  time  to  make  the  demand.  The  importer \nstarted  out  in  the  cold  of  a  New  England  winter, \napologized  to  his  Excellency  for  his  visit,  but  assured \nhim  that  it  was  involuntary.  He  received  a  reply \nthat  no  pass  could  be  given  him.  By  three  o'clock \nthe  people  gathered  again  at  the  meeting-house,  but \nthe  importer  had  not  arrived.  The  time  was  filled \nup  by  speeches;  \"Who  knows,\"  asked  one,  \"how \ntea  will  mingle  with  salt  water?\"  Josiah  Ouincy, \nJr.,*  spoke  vigorously  from  the  gallery  against  the \n\n*  There  were  three  persons  of  note  bearing  the  colonial  name \nJosiah  in  the  Quincy  family,  viz.  :  Josiah,  son  of  Judge  Edmund, \nborn  in  1709  ;  Josiah,  junior,  born  in  1744  ;  and  Josiah,  afterwards \nmayor  of  Boston,  and  president  of  Harvard  College,  born  in  1772. \n\n\n341  THE   OLD    SOUTH    CHURCH    IN    ITS    PRESENT    CONDITION    (bUILT    IN    I-2q). \n\n\n342  STIRRING    UP   A    CONTINENT. \n\nBritish  government,  and  Harrison  Gray  responded \nfrom  the  floor,  warning  \"the  young  gentleman  in \nthe  gallery  \"  against  the  consequences  of  intemperate \nlanguage.  Quincy  replied:  \"If  the  old  gentleman \non  the  floor  intends  by  his  v/arning  to  '  the  young \ngentleman  in  the  gallery,'  to  utter  only  a  friendly \nvoice  in  the  spirit  of  paternal  advice,  I  thank  him. \nIf  his  object  be  to  terrify  and  intimidate,  I  despise \nhim  !  \"  As  he  spoke  some  men  disguised  as  Indians \nentered,  and  he  added  :  \"  I  see  the  clouds  which  now \nrise  thick  and  fast  upon  our  horizon  ;  the  thunders \nroll,  and  the  lightnings  play ,» and  to  the  God  who \nrides  on  the  whirlwind  and  directs  the  storm  I  com- \nmit my  country !  \" \n\nIt  was  six  o'clock  before  the  importer  returned, \nand  a  few  candles  were  brought  in  to  relieve  the  fast- \nincreasing  darkness.  He  reported  the  governor's \nreply,  and  Samuel  Adams  rose  and  exclaimed  : \n\"  This  meeting  can  do  nothing  more  to  save  the \ncountry!\"  In  an  instant  there  was  a  shout  on  the \nporch  ;  there  was  a  war-whoop  in  response,  and  forty \nor  fifty  of  the  men  disguised  as  Indians  rushed  out \nof  the  doors,  down  Milk  Street  towards  Grififin's \n(afterwards  Liverpool)  Wharf,  where  the  vessels  lay. \nThe  meeting  was  declared  dissolved,  and  the  throng \nfollowed  their  leaders,  forming  a  determined  guard \nabout  the  wharf.  The  \"  Mohawks  \"  entered  the  ves- \nsel ;  there  was  tugging  at  the  ropes  ;  there  was  break- \ning of  light  boxes  ;  there  was  pouring  of  precious \ntea  into  the  waters  of  the  harbor.  For  two  or  three \nhours  the  work  went  on,  and  three  hundred  and \nfort)--two    chests  were   emptied.     Then,    under  the \n\n\nPHILADELPHIA    REJOICES.  343 \n\nlicrht  of  the  moon,  the  Indians  marched  to  the  sound \nof  fife  and  drum  to  their  homes,  and  the  vast  throng \nmelted  away,  until  not  a  man  remained  to  tell  of  the \ndeed.  The  committee  of  correspondence  held  a \nmeeting  the  next  day,  and  Samuel  Adams  and  four \nothers  were  appointed  to  prepare  an  account  of  the \naffair  to  be  posted  to  other  places.  Paul  Revere, \nwho  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  the  \"  Mohawks,\" \nwas  sent  express  to  Philadelphia  with  the  news, \nwhich  was  received  at  that  place  on  the  twenty-sixth. \nIt  was  announced  by  ringing  of  bells,  and  there  was \nevery  sign  of  joy.  A  meeting  of  citizens  was  held, \nand  the  action  was  endorsed  with  claps  and  huzzas. \nOne  prominent  gentleman  wrote  to  Boston  :  \"  We \nall  allow  you  have  had  greater  trials  than  any  of \nthe  colonies,  and  we  wonder  much  of  your  great \npatience.\"  The  continent  was  universally  stirred,  at \nlast. \n\n\nXXIV. \n\n\nWAR. \n\n\n\"  Our  western  brother  had  a  dispute  with  his \nnurse  about  a  cup  of  tea.  She  wanted  to  force  the \nboy  to  drink  it  according  to  her  own  receipt.  He \nsaid  that  he  did  not  like  it,  and  that  it  absolutely \nmade  him  ill.  After  a  good  deal  of  sparring,  she \ntook  up  the  birch  rod  and  began  to  whip  him  with \nuncommon  severity.  He  turned  upon  her  in  self- \ndefence,  showed  her  to  the  outside  of  the  nursery \ndoor,  and  never  more  allowed  her  to  meddle  with \nhis  affairs.\"  Such  are  the  words  of  an  English  trav- \neller who  visited  America  a  generation  after  the \nBoston  Tea-Party.*  The  nurse  and  the  western \nbrother  had  now  had  the  dispute  about  the  cup  of \ntea,  but  it  remains  to  see  how  the  birch  rod  was  ap- \nplied, and  how  the  nursery  door  was  shut  upon  the \nnurse. \n\nWe  may  be  sure  that  when  the  news  of  the  doings \nof  the  evening  of  December  i6th  reached  England \nthere  was  considerable  excitement.  Parliament  was \nin  session,  and  there  was  no  need  of  losing  time  in \napplying  the  rod   to  the   rebellious  boy  across  the \n\n*  Charles  Waterton,  quoted  in  Winsor's  \"  Memorial   History,\"  vol. \niii.,  page  51.. \n\n344 \n\n\nDELE  NBA   EST  CARTHAGO!  345 \n\nsea.  It  was  declared  that  the  unruly  and  defiant  spirit \nof  Boston  must  be  checked  at  all  hazards,  or  there \nwould  be  an  end  to  the  rule  of  Britain  in  America. \nThis  sentiment  was  far  from  universal  in  England. \nPrivate  interest  led  many  to  be  fast  friends  of  Amer- \nica, but  they  were  unable  to  make  their  influence \nfelt.  Many  sensible  Englishmen  besides  those  whose \nvoices  were  heard  in  parliament  justified  and  even \napplauded  the  action  of  Boston,  and  denounced  the \ndesperate  measures  of  the  ministry.  \"  The  mer- \nchants are  alarmed,\"  wrote  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  in  Jan- \nuary, 1775,  from  London,  \"  the  manufacturers  are  in \nmotion,  the  artificers  and  handicraftsmen  are  in \namaze,  and  the  lower  ranks  of  the  community  are \nsuffering \"  ;  and  they  were  petitioning  parliament \nto  the  advantage  of  America,  prodded  by  self-interest \nand  misery.* \n\nThe  king  sent  a  message  to  parliament,  in  which \nhe  denounced  the  outbreak  at  Boston  as  an  inter- \nference with  British  trade  and  an  outrage  on  the \nEnglish  constitution,  and  a  bill  was  presented  for \nthe  punishment  of  the  town.  In  the  debate  that \nfollowed  it  was  said  :  \"  The  town  of  Boston  ought \nto  be  knocked  about  their  ears  and  destroyed.  De- \nlenda  est  Carthago  !  You  will  never  meet  with  proper \nobedience  to  the  laws  of  this  country  until  you  have \ndestroyed  that  nest  of  locusts.\"  Lord  George  Ger- \nmaine,  in  introducing  the  bill,  said  :  \"  Nor  can  I  think \nhe  will  do  a  better  thing  than  to  put  an  end  to  their \ntown-meetings.  I  would  not  have  men  of  a  mercan- \ntile cast  every  day  collecting  themselves  together  and \n\n*  \"  Memoir  of  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,\"  pp.  251,  255,  etc. \n\n\n34^  IVAJ?. \n\ndebating  about  political  matters.  I  would  have  them \nfollow  their  occupations  as  merchants,  and  not  con- \nsider themselves  as  ministers  of  that  country.  .  .  . \nThe  whole  are  the  proceedings  of  a  tumultuous  and \nriotous  rabble,  who  ought,  if  they  had  the  least  pru- \ndence, to  follow  their  mercantile  employments,  and \nnot  trouble  themselves  with  politics  and  govern- \nment, which  they  do  not  understand.\"  Lord  North \nconsidered  these  sentiments  \"  worthy  of  a  great \nmind,\"  and  the  fact  shows  how  little  the  real  state \nof  affairs  in  Boston  was  understood  in  England  at \nthat  time,  though  it  also  proves  that  the  strength  of \nthe  Americans  stood  in  their  democratic  gatherings, \nin  which  the  average  of  the  wisdom  of  all  still  seems \nto  be  greater  than  the  wisdom  of  the  wisest  among \nthem. \n\nParliament  passed  an  act  closing  the  port  of  the \ndoomed  city  during  the  pleasure  of  the  king,  and \ngiving  the  army  and  the  fleet  directions  to  see  that \nit  was  enforced  ;  it  was  determined  that  the  council- \nlors, who  had  before  been  chosen  by  the  general \ncourt,  should  be  appointed  by  the  king  ;  the  superior \njudges  were  to  hold  office  during  the  king's  pleasure, \nand  receive  their  salaries  from  him  ;  the  inferior \njudges  were  to  be  removable  by  the  governor  ;  no \ntown-meetings  were  to  be  permitted  except  such  as \nmight  be  convoked  by  the  governor  for  the  discus- \nsion of  such  business  as  he  might  allow;  soldiers, \nmagistrates,  and  officers  of  the  revenue,  charged  with \ncapital  offences,  were  to  be  tried  in  England  or  Nova \nScotia  ;  provision  was  made  for  the  legal  quartering \nof  troops  upon   the  towns  ;    Salem   was    made  the \n\n\nADAMS   DEFENDS    THE   BOSTONIANS.         347 \n\ncapital  of  the  province,  and  the  port  of  Boston  was \nclosed.  It  was  vainly  thought  that  the  power  of \nparliament  to  make  laws  for  the  colonies  in  all  cases \nwhatsoever  was  now  vindicated. \n\nThe  general  court  met  in  January,  1774.  Hutch- \ninson made  an  opening  speech,  in  which  he  avoided \nreference  to  the  \"  tea-party,\"  and  to  the  fact  that \nother  shipments  of  the  \"detested  herb\"  had  been \ntreated  to  salt-water  baths,  because  he  feared  the \nresponse  that  he  might  meet  from  the  deputies \nin  their  excited  state.  The  governor  contented \nhimself  by  mentioning  \"  such  things  only  as  were \nleast  likely  to  give  room  for  any  harsh  or  unkind \nreturn  \"  ;  that  is,  he  brought  up  the  general  business \nand  expressed  the  king's  disapprobation  of  the  sit- \ntings of  the  committees  of  correspondence  during \nthe  recess  of  the  court.  This  gave  Adams  an  op- \nportunity to  defend  the  committees  and  their  action \nbefore  the  public,  and  to  strengthen  the  faith  of  any \nwho  might  be  weak.  He  argued  that,  during  the \nrecesses  of  the  court,  the  governor  and  other  officers \nof  the  king  were  accustomed  to  correspond  with  the \nministers  and  to  concert  measures  grievous  to  the \ncolonists,  and  urged  that  as  the  court  met  only  at \nthe  pleasure  of  the  governors  (who  therefore  had  the \npower  to  hinder  any  measures  that  the  colonists \nmight  wish  to  carry  for  their  protection),  it  could \nnot  be  thought  unreasonable  or  improper  for  the \ncolonists  to  correspond  with  their  agents,  as  well  as \nwith  one  another,  to  the  end  that  their  grievances \nmight  be  so  explained  to  his  Majesty  that,  in  his \njustice,  he  might  afford  them  necessary  relief. \n\n\n348  .  IVAJ?. \n\nThe  next  move  looked  to  the  impeachment  of  the \nchief-justice,  Peter  Oliver,  for  accepting  the  salary \npromised  by  the  king  ;  but  the  governor  resolved  to \nprorogue  the  court  before  action  could  be  completed. \nHe  therefore  prepared  a  message  in  which  he  said \nthat  he  had  passed  over  the  illiberal  charges  and \ninsinuations  against  himself,  but  that  when  they \nstruck  \"  directly  at  the  honor  and  authority  of  the \nking  and  of  the  parliament,  he  was  obliged  to  stop \nthem  from  proceeding  any  farther.\"  The  house \nlearned  that  such  a  message  was  coming,  and  barred \nits  doors  so  efTectually  that  the  governor's  secretary \nwas  unable  to  obtain  admission.  Meanwhile  they \nperfected  arrangements  for  their  own  pay,  and  passed \na  resolution  to  the  effect  that  they  had  done  all  that \nthey  could  do  for  the  removal  of  the  chief  justice, \nand  boldly  declaring  that  the  refusal  of  the  governor \nto  act  with  them  was  probably  because  he  also  re- \nceived his  support  from  the  crown.  They  also  directed \nthe  committee  of  correspondence  to  write  to  Benja- \nmin Franklin,  the  colonial  agent  in  London,  on  the \npublic  grievances.  This  was  the  last  appeal  made \nby  Massachusetts  for  redress. \n\nThe  governor  had  previously  prepared  the  court \nfor  prorogation,  and  had  informed  them  that  he  had \nobtained  the  king's  permission  to  go  to  England, \nand  intended  soon  to  go.  The  close  of  the  session \nof  the  court  left  the  management  of  affairs  in  the \nhands  of  the  committee  of  correspondence,  which \nhad,  indeed,  directed  the  action  of  that  body  during \nits  sessions.  The  governor's  authority  was  now \ngone  ;   the  course  of  law  was  stopped,  because  juries \n\n\nJOHN  HANCOCK  PUT  FORWARD.  349 \n\nwould  not  act  while  Oliver  held  his  office ;  and \nHutchinson  declared  that  \"the  danger  of  revolt  was \ndaily  increasing.\"  At  this  juncture  the  lieutenant- \ngovernor,  Andrew  Oliver,  died  from  a  stroke  of \napoplexy,  and  Hutchinson  postponed  his  departure, \nbecause  his  absence  at  the  moment  would  have \ngiven  up  all  power  to  the  opponents  of  the  king's \ngovernment. \n\nThe  fifth  of  March  arrived  three  days  before  the \ncourt  closed  its  sessions,  and  a  remarkable  arrange- \nment was  made  for  its  celebration.  The  town  assem- \nbled at  Faneuil  Hall,  but  adjourned  to  the  Old  South, \nwhere  the  usual  oration  was  delivered  by  John \nHancock.  It  was  the  speaker's  first  public  address, \nand  was  pronounced  with  dignity,  grace,  and  ora- \ntorical skill,  but  it  was  not  the  composition  of  the \norator.  Samuel  Adams  is  reputed  to  have  written  it, \nand  he  \"sat  blandly  by  as  moderator,  while  the \npeople  were  deceived  into  the  belief  that  the  man \nwho  surpassed  all  in  social  graces  and  length  of \npurse  could  thunder  also  from  the  rostrum  with  the \nbest.\"*  John  Adams  records  that  \"the  composi- \ntion, the  pronunciation,  the  action,  all  exceeded  the \nexpectations  of  everybody.\"  The  oration  closed \nwith  those  impressive  words  of  Habakkuk,  from \nwhich  Judge  Sewall  derived  so  much  comfort  on  the \ndark  day  that  Andros  arrived:  \"Although  the  fig- \ntree  shall  not  blossom,\"  etc.f  As  the  dignified  speaker \nresumed  his  seat,  a  committee,  of  which  Samuel \nAdams  was  chairman,  was  appointed  to  thank  the \n\n*  \"  Samuel  Adams,\"  by  J.    K.  Hosmer,  page  263. \nf  See  page  164. \n\n\n350  JVAJ?. \n\norator  in  the  name  of  the  town  for  \"  his  elegant  and \nspirited  oration,\"  and  to  ask  a  copy  for  pubHcation, \nwhile  thanks  were  unanimously  voted  to  Adams \nhimself  for  \"  his  good  services  as  moderator.\" \nHancock  thus  gained  applause  that  he  did  not  de- \nserve, and  (what  was  most  desired  by  \"  the  mover \nof  the  puppets\")  was  more  firmly  committed  to \nthe  cause,  while  the  people  were  impressed  by  the \npatriotism  of  a  rich  and  well-born  gentleman  ;  but \nit  was  a  peculiar  transaction.* \n\nThe  port  was  to  be  closed  on  the  first  of  June. \nThe  news  reached  Boston  on  the  tenth  of  May ; \nthere  was  a  convention  of  the  committees  of  cor- \nrespondence of  eight  neighboring  towns,  including \nLexington  and  Cambridge,  on  the  twelfth  ;  and  a \ncircular-letter,  prepared  by  Samuel  Adams,  was  issued, \ndeclaring  that  the  town  of  Boston  was  suffering  in \n\"  the  common  cause,\"  and  that  \"  all  should  be  united \nin  opposition  to  this  violation  of  the  liberties  of  all.\" \n\n*  This  is  not  the  only  occasion,  if  history  does  not  malign  him,  on \nwhich  Hancock  availed  himself  of  the  help  of  another  in  literary \ncomposition.  When  the  adoption  of  the  federal  constitution  was \nunder  consideration  in  Boston,  in  17S8,  he  was  much  in  doubt  as  to \nhis  course,  and,  in  order  to  avoid  discussion,  remained  at  home,  as \nwas  usual  with  him  on  such  occasions,  wrapped  in  flannel,  suffering \nfrom,  or  affecting  to  suffer  from,  the  gout.  He  was  flattered  into  the \nbelief  that  \"  the  salvation  of  the  nation  \"  rested  upon  him,  by  some \npersons  interested  in  the  adoption  of  the  constitution,  and  after  much \nurging  he  appeared  in  the  convention,  (which  was  in  session  in  the \nPederal  Street  church,  by  adjournment  from  the  Town  House,)  car- \nried in  the  arms  of  several  young  gentlemen,  and  asked  permission \nto  read  a  speech  whicli  lie  said  he  was  unable  to  make  in  any  other \nmanner.  He  then  read  a  speech  which  had  been  written  for  him  by \nTheophilus  Parsons,  and  when  he  concluded  one  of  his  friends  hastily \ntook  the  manuscript  from  him,  that  the  handwriting  might  not  be \nobserved.     (See  WelK'  \"  Life  of  Samuel  Adams,\"  vol.  iii.,  page  25S.) \n\n\nPOWDER  HASTILY  PURCHASED.  35  I \n\nMilitary  companies  were  formed,  and  everywhere \nmen  were  assiduous  in  learning  the  use  of  firearms; \nthough,  as  Hutchinson  says,  \"  not  under  the  officers  of \nthe  regiments  to  which  they  belonged,\"  but  \"  under \nofficers  of  their  own  choosing.\"  Five  hundred \nbarrels  of  gunpowder  were  purchased,  ostensibly \n\"  for  His  Majesty's  safety  in  the  service  of  the  prov- \nince,\" and  it  was  plain  that  a  conflict  was  only  to  be \navoided  by  the  most  judicious  measures  on  the  part \nof  the  royal  officers.  A  town-meeting  was  held  on \nthe  thirteenth,  so  promptly  did  one  act  follow  another, \nat  which  it  was  voted,  against  the  opposition  of  the \ntories  who  came  out  to  confuse  the  public  counsels, \nthat  the  salvation  of  the  liberties  of  America  was \nto  be  obtained  by  a  joint  resolution  of  all  the \ncolonies  to  stop  all  importations  from  and  exporta- \ntions  to  England,  and  that,  \"on  the  other  hand,  if \nthey  continue  their  exports  and  imports,  there  is \nhigh  reason  to  fear  that  fraud,  power,  and  the  most \nodious  oppression  will  rise  triumphant  over  right, \njustice,  social  happiness,  and  freedom.\"  The  day  of \nthis  town-meeting  was  made  memorable  by  the \narrival  of  the  new  governor.  General  Gage.  Paul \nRevere  carried  this  manifesto  of  the  town  to  Phila- \ndelphia, reaching  that  place  on  this  occasion  in  six \ndays,  and  responses  of  the  most  encouraging  char- \nacter began  immediately  to  come  to  Boston,  offering \nhelp,  assuring  her  that  she  was  considered  as  \"  suffer- \ning in  the  common  cause,\"  and  calling  for  a  congress \nof  the  colonies.* \n\n*  John  Adams  wrote  to  his  wife  :  \"  We  live,  my  dear  soul,  in  an \nage  of  trial.  What  will  be  the  consequence,  I  know  not.  The  town \nof  Boston,   for   aught   I  can  see,  must  suffer  martyrdom  ;  it  must  ex- \n\n\n35-  WAR. \n\nGage  had  been  instructed  to  act  with  promptness \nagainst  the  leaders  ;  but  he  was  a  man  of  moderation,* \nand  feared  the  effect  of  any  decided  action  before \nhe  had  brought  together  troops  enough  to  ensure \nhimself  against  a  popular  rising,  though  the  impres- \nsion was  general  among  Englishmen  that  Americans \nwere  all  cowards  and  poltroons.  The  general  court \nmet  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  May,  and  on  the  first  of \nJune  was  adjourned  to  Salem,  by  General  Gage. \nHutchinson  left  that  morning  for  England.  At \nnoon  the  port  of  Boston  was  closed  ;  no  ferry-boat \ncould  start  forCharlestown,  no  vessel  sail  for  London  ; \nthe  bells  were  tolled,  and  there  were  profuse  signs \nof  mourning.  Even  in  Philadelphia  business  stopped, \nand  in  Virginia  the  day  was  observed  by  fasting  and \nprayer.  Bancroft  paints  a  graphic  picture  of  the \ntransformation  of  the  busy  town  into  a  place  of \nidleness  and  want :  \"  No  anchor  could  be  weighed, \nno  sail  unfurled,  no  vessel  so  much  as  launched  from \nthe  stocks  \"  ;  the  king  had  changed  the  \"  busy  work- \nshops into  scenes  of  compulsory  idleness,  and  the \nmost  skilful  naval  artisans  in  the  world,  with  the \nkeenest  eye  for  forms  of  beauty  and  speed,\"  were \nforced  by  act  of  parliament  to  fold  their  hands. \n\"  Want  scowled  on  the  laborer,  as  he  sat  with  his \n\npire  ;  and  our  principal  consolation  is  that  it  dies  in  a  noble  cause, — \nthe  cause  of  truth,  of  virtue,  of  liberty,  of  humanity,  and  that  it  will \nprobably  have  a  glorious  resurrection  to  greater  wealth,  splendor,  and \npower  than  ever.\"     May  12,  1774. \n\n*  Joseph  Warren  considered  Gage  \"a  man  of  honest,  upright \nprinciples,  and  one  desirous  of  accommodating  the  differences  be- \ntween Great  Britain  and  her  colonies  in  a  just  and  honorable  way,\" \nthough  he  confessed  that  he  wrote  an  \"ill-judged\"  answer  to  the \nprovincial  congress. \n\n\nTHE   PORT  OF  BOSTON   SHUT    UP.  353 \n\nwife  and  children  at  his  board.  The  sailor  roamed \nthe  streets  listlessly  without  hope  of  employment.\" \n\nThe  law  was  enforced  with  a  rigor  that  went  beyond \nthe  intentions  of  its  authors.  It  went  hard  with \nBoston ;  but  the  people  of  Philadelphia  sent  her \nsympathy,  and  gifts  were  offered  from  far  and  near. \nSouth  Carolina  sent  two  hundred  barrels  of  rice, \nand  promised  to  make  the  gift  a  thousand  ;  Washing- \nton headed  a  subscription  paper  in  Fairfax  County, \nVirginia,  with  fifty  pounds ;  Wilmington,  N.  C, \nraised  two  thousand  pounds  currency  in  a  few  days ; \nflour,  cattle,  sheep,  fish,  came  from  New  England \ntowns ;  Quebec  sent  over  a  thousand  bushels  of \nwheat ;  and  Augusta  County,  Virginia,  ofl'ered  one \nhundred  and  thirty-seven  barrels  of  flour.  Salem \nand  other  ports  were  open,  and  received  all  that  was \nsent,  conveying  it  overland  to  the  distressed  town  ; \nwhile  the  Bostonians  themselves  endeavored  to  smile \nat  the  strange  fact  that  they  were  \"  seventeen  miles \nfrom  a  seaport.\" \n\nThere  were  a  large  number  of  delegates  present  at \nthe  meeting  of  the  court  at  Salem  ;  and  business  was \nbegun,  after  listening  to  Governor  Gage's  speech,  by \nprotesting  against  the  removal,  and  then  arrange- \nments were  made  by  Adams  and  those  in  sympathy \nwith  him  for  the  selection  of  delegates  to  the  con- \ngress that  was  to  be  held  in  Philadelphia,  for  which \nit  was  intended  that  Boston  should  make  the  plans. \nAdams  proceeded  with  secrecy,  and  on  the  seven- \nteenth of  June,  when  he  thought  all  was  ready,  after \nlocking  the  door  and  putting  the  key  into  his  pocket, \nhe  submitted  resolutions  assigning  September  ist  as \n\n\n354  ^AR. \n\nthe  day,  and  Philadelphia,  \"  or  any  other  place \nthat  should  be  decided  upon,\"  as  the  place  for \nthe  congress.  Five  delegates  were  chosen,  and  five \nhundred  pounds  were  provided  for  their  expenses. \nIn  the  midst  of  the  discussion,  which  began  by  an \nuproar  at  the  bold  and,  to  some,  unexpected  sugges- \ntion, a  member,  feigning  illness,  managed  to  get  out  of \nthe  room  and  to  give  Gage  information  of  what  was \ngoing  on.  The  governor  immediately  sent  his  sec- \nretary with  a  brief  message  dissolving  the  assembly. \nThe  closed  door  made  his  entrance  impossible,  and \nthe  messenger  stood  on  the  stairway  and  read  the \nimpotent  proclamation  to  a  few  loungers.  When \nAdams  was  ready,  the  door  was  opened,  the  proro- \ngation was  allowed,  and  there  was  no  longer  a \ngeneral  court  in  Massachusetts. \n\nWhile  the  sleepy  town  of  Salem  was  agitated  by \nthese  proceedings  there  was  a  town-meeting  in  Boston \n(June  17th)  over  which  John  Adams  presided.  It  was \ncalled  for  the  purpose  of  providing  employment  for \nthe  poor,  and  to  talk  about  paying  for  the  tea  that \nhad  been  destroyed.*  Though  there  had  been  two \nopinions  on  the  propriety  of  paying  for  the  tea,  and \nthough  Franklin  thought  best  to  take  such  a  concili- \natory step,  the  meeting  was  firm  and  unanimous  in \nasserting    that   Boston    was  willing  to    endure    the \n\n*  Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  citizens  of  Boston  no  longer  had  the \nright  to  hokl  town-meetings  at  their  pleasure,  this  one,  known  as  the \nPort  Bill  Meeting,  was  not  dissolved,  but  simply  \"adjourned,\" \nin  order  that  when  another  meeting  should  he  found  serviceable, \nit  would  not  be  necessary  to  ask  Governor  Gage's  permission  to  hold \nit.  The  \"  adjourned  \"  meeting  was  finally  held  on  the  day  appointed \nfor  the  celebration  of  the  Massacre,  March  6,  1775. \n\n\nTHE   SUFFOLK'  RESOLVES.  355 \n\nworst  rather  than  surrender  any  right.  A  memora- \nble meeting  was  held  at  Dr.  Joseph  Warren's  house \nthat  evening,  and  the  hearts  of  those  who  were \npresent  were  cheered  by  the  intelligence  from \nSalem,  by  letters  from  Baltimore  and  New  York,  and \nby  the  news  found  in  the  public  journals. \n\nCongress  met  at  Philadelphia,  September  5th,  and \nremained  in  session  until  October  26th.  After  it  had \nadjourned  John  Dickinson  wrote  to  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.: \n\"  I  now  congratulate  you  on  the  hearty  union  of  all \nAmerica  from  Nova  Scotia  to  Georgia,  in  the  common \ncause.  If  it  be  possible  the  return  of  the  members \ninto  the  several  colonies  will  make  them  still  more  firm. \nThe  most  peaceable  provinces  are  now  animated.\"  Dr. \nCharles  Chauncy  wrote  in  November:  \"The  colonies \nare  marvellously  united,  and  determined  to  act  as \none  in  the  defence  of  this  town  and  province.\"  In \nfact  \"  Boston  must  be  regarded  as  suffering  in  the \ncommon  cause  !  \"  became  the  popular  expression  of \ncolonial  sentiment.  Mr.  Adams  considered  the \nCongress  to  be  a  collection  of  the  greatest  men  upon \nthe  continent,  in  point  of  abilities,  virtues,  and \nfortunes.  They  looked  upon  tories  as  the  most \ndespicable  animals  in  creation,  to  be  compared  only \nto  \"  spiders,  toads,  and  snakes.\"  While  this  was \noccurring,  the  patriots  in  Boston  convened  in  a \ncounty  meeting,*  first  at  Dedham,  and  then  at \nMilton,  where  they  passed  the  \"  Suffolk  Resolves,\" \nas  they  are  called,  in  which  it  was  declared  that  no \n\n*  This  was  done  on  account  of  the  difficulty  and  danger  of  holding \nmeetings  in  Boston.  See  \"A  History  of  Boston,\"  by  Caleb  H.  Snow, \nM.D.,  page  298. \n\n\n356  iVAi?. \n\nofficers  appointed  by  parliament  were  to  be  acknowl- \nedged ;  that  no  more  moneys  were  to  be  paid  to  the \nroyal  treasurer  ;  that  friends  of  the  people  should  be \nput  in  command  of  the  militia  ;  and  that  obedience \nshould  be  given  to  the  acts  of  the  continental \ncongress.  A  provincial  congress  was  favored,  and \nthreats  were  made  of  seizing  all  crown  officers  as \nhostages,  in  case  of  any  arrest  by  the  governor  for \npolitical  reasons.  The  gathering  expressed  a  deter- \nmination to  act  on  the  defensive,  as  long  as  reason \nand  self-preservation  would  allow, — \"  and  no  longer.\" \nA  system  of  couriers  was  established  at  the  same \nmeeting,  to  communicate  promptly  with  correspond- \ning committees  and  with  town  officers,  and  the  bold \nresolves  were  sent  to  the  congress  at  Philadelphia, \nby  Paul  Revere,  who  had  been  twice  before  em- \nployed on  like  errands.  They  were  received  with \napplause  and  commended  to  the  country. \n\nGage  was  not  an  uninterested  spectator  of  all  these \nacts.  He  was  busily  collecting  troops  and  ammuni- \ntion, and  building  fortifications  and  barracks  ;  and  he \nthus  stimulated  the  Americans  not  only  to  watchful- \nness, but  to  indignant  opposition,  for  the  powder \nthat  he  took  was  the  property  of  the  province,  and \nthe  men  who  assisted  him  were  looked  upon  as  base \nrenegades.  On  the  first  of  September  two  hundred \nof  his  men  embarked  on  a  marauding  excursion  from \nLong  Wharf,  and  went  up  the  Mystic.  They  took \ntwo  hundred  and  twelve  half-barrels  of  powder  from \nQuarry  Hill,  and  a  detachment  captured  two  field- \npieces  in  Cambridge.  The  next  day  several  thousand \npeople   assembled  at  the  latter  town  armed  to  repel \n\n\nTHE  PROVINCIAL    CONGRESS.  357 \n\nthe  force,  but  as  it  had  disappeared,  they  laid  their \npieces  aside  and  visited  the  houses  of  certain  tories, \nwhom  they  obhged  to  forswear  all  connivance  with \nthe  royal  government  in  the  future. \n\nThe  acts  of  Gage  were  distorted  by  rumor,  and  one \nday  the  country  around  was  aroused  by  a  story  that \nthe  fleet  and  army  were  firing  into  the  town  of \nBoston.  It  is  said  that  thirty  thousand  people \ncollected  from  a  radius  of  thirty  miles  about,  to  take \npart  in  the  action.  The  rumor  reached  Philadelphia \nas  actual  news,  and  had  the  effect  of  uniting  the \ndelegates  and  hastening  their  action.  Mr.  John \nAdams  wrote  from  congress  September  eighth  :  \"  We \nare  waiting  with  the  utmost  anxiety  and  impatience \nfor  further  intelligence.  The  effect  of  the  news  we \nhave  both  upon  the  congress  and  the  inhabitants  of \nthis  city  was  very  great.  Great  indeed  !  Every  gentle- \nman seems  to  consider  the  bombardment  of  Boston \nas  the  bombardment  of  the  capital  of  his  own \nprovince.  Our  deliberations  are  grave  and  serious \nindeed.\" \n\nGage  had  called  a  meeting  of  the  general  court  to \nconvene  at  Salem  October  5th,  but  the  tumults  that \ncame  on  led  him  to  issue  a  proclamation,  on  the \ntwenty-eighth  of  September,  proroguing  the  body. \nThe  members,  however,  met  at  the  time  appointed, \nbut  after  a  little  delay  adjourned  to  Concord  and \norganized  themselves  into  a  \"  provincial  congress.\" \nThe  new  body  held  its  sessions  for  three  weeks,  during \nwhich  time  steps  were  taken  to  provide  the  towns \nwith  ammunition  and  stores,  and  to  organize  the \nmilitia.     The  governor  in  his  impotence  denounced \n\n\n358  PVA/?. \n\nthe  congress,  but  it  met  again  in  spite  of  him  in \nNovember,  at  Cambridge,  and  kept  on  with  its  work. \nIt  provided  at  this  time  for  a  \"committee  of  safety,\" \nwhich  became  the  real  executive  of  Massachusetts, \nwith  power  to  procure  stores,  organize  the  militia, \nand  generally  to  look  out  for  the  welfare  of  the \npeople.  Thus,  in  various  ways,  Massachusetts  calmly \nprepared  for  any  aggressive  movement,  taking  every \nprecaution,  however,  not  to  be  aggressive  herself. \nMinute-men  were  enrolled  by  the  towns  and  carefully \ndrilled  and  equipped.  These  soldiers  were  looked \nupon  with  disdain  by  the  regulars  under  Gage,  while \nsome  of  them,  who  had  been  with  Pepperell  at \nLouisburg,  ridiculed  the  earthworks  on  the  Neck, \nwhich  they  compared  disdainfully  with  the  great \nstone  walls  that  had  proved  no  obstacle  to  their \nsuccess  in  that  memorable  campaign. \n\nThe  second  provincial  congress  convened  at  Cam- \nbridge on  the  first  of  February,  1775,  with  John \nHancock  as  president,  and  proceeded  to  exercise \nthe  functions  of  the  general  court.  It  appropriated \nmoneys  for  the  purchase  of  warlike  stores,  selected \nofificers  for  the  command  of  the  minute-men  who \nmight  be  brought  into  actual  service,  and  appointed \nSamuel  and  John  Adams,  John  Hancock,  Robert \nTreat  Paine,  and  Thomas  Cashing  delegates  to  the \ncontinental  congress.  Meantime,  events  crowded \nupon  one  another.  The  fifth  of  March  came  around \nagain,  and  Dr.  Warren  craved  the  privilege  of  deliv- \nering the  customary  address  in  the  Old  South.  A \nwarrant  was  issued  for  a  town-meeting  on  March \n6th  (the  fifth  being  Sunday),  in  adjournment  of  the \n\n\nh'ARREN  ENTERS  A    WINDOW.  359 \n\nPort  Bill  Meeting  of  June  17th  of  the  previous  year. \nGase  had  now  crathercd  a  considerable  force  in  Bos- \nton.  At  the  close  of  1774  he  had  eleven  regiments \nof  infantry  and  four  companies  of  artillery,  and  five \nhundred  men  were  on  duty  every  day  to  overawe \nthe  citizens.  It  required  considerable  nerve  to  speak \nin  public  at  the  time,  for  it  was  known  that  some \nattempt  was  to  be  made  to  interrupt  the  meeting  on \nthis  hated  anniversary.  When  forty  British  officers \nentered  the  building  Adams  asked  the  civilians  occu- \npying the  front  seats  to  vacate  them,  and  seated  the \nmilitary  men  in  their  places.  He  was  determined  to \nput  them  in  the  wrong,  in  case  of  any  disturbance.  It \nwas  afterwards  learned  that  an  attempt  was  to  have \nbeen  made  to  seize  the  persons  of  Adams,  Hancock, \nand  Warren,  and  that  a  certain  ensign  had  been  ap- \npointed to  give  the  signal  for  the  others  by  throwing \nan  egg  at  Dr.  Warren  in  the  pulpit.  The  young \nfellow  had  a  fall  on  his  way  to  the  meeting,  which \ndislocated  his  knee  and  broke  the  egg,  on  which \naccount  the  scheme  failed. \n\nThe  oration  was  delivered  by  Warren  without \nmuch  interruption.  He  was  obliged  to  enter  the \nmeeting-house  through  a  window  behind  the  high \npulpit,  and  then,  taking  his  handkerchief  in  his  right \nhand,  he  began  and  ended  without  action.  At  one \npoint  an  officer  held  up  a  few  pistol  bullets  in  his \nopen  palm  ;  Warren  quietly  dropped  his  handker- \nchief upon  them  and  went  on.  It  is  passing  strange \nthat  the  peace  was  not  disturbed,  for  some  of  War- \nren's words  were  well  adapted  to  excite  the  royal- \nists.    He  spoke  of  the  \"ruin  \"  around,  and  asked: \n\n\n360  IVAJ?. \n\n\"  Does  some  fiend,  fierce  from  the  depth  of  hell,  with \nall  the  rancorous  malice  that  the  apostate  damned \ncan  feel,  twang  her  destructive  bow,  and  hurl  her \ndeadly  arrows  at  our  breast  ?  No,  none  of  these  ! \nbut  how  astonishing  !  it  is  the  hand  of  Britain  that \ninflicts  the  wound.  The  arms  of  George,  our  right- \nful king,  have  been  employed  to  shed  that  blood \nwhich  freely  should  have  flowed  at  his  command, \nwhen  justice  or  the  honor  of  his  crown  had  called  his \nsubjects  to  the  field.\" \n\nThe  congress  that  had  met  in  February  at  Cam- \nbridge convened  again,  March  22d,  at  Concord,  w^hen \nit  resolved  anew  that  for  the  people  to  relax  their \npreparations  for  defence  would  be  attended  with  the \nmost  dreadful  consequences,  pointed  out  the  danger \nof  \"  subjugation,\"  and  called  upon  all  to  be  prepared \nto  oppose  force  to  force  if  any  emergency  should \narise.  The  movements  of  the  military  had  been \nstrictly  watched  during  the  winter  by  a  body  of \nthirty  persons  who  patrolled  the  streets  by  twos  at \nnight.  At  about  dark,  on  the  eighteenth  of  April, \neight  hundred  British  troops  were  taken  from  their \nbarracks  and  marched  to  the  foot  of  the  common, \nwhere  boats  had  been  sent  to  meet  them  at  a  point \nnot  far  from  the  present  site  of  the  Providence  rail- \nroad station.  Information  was  taken  to  Dr.  War- \nren, and  he  immediately  sent  one  William  Dawes \nto  Lexington,  to  inform  Adams  and  Hancock,  who \nwere  there.  Dawes  started  across  the  Neck  and \nwent  through  Roxbury.  At  a  later  hour  Warren \nsent  for  Paul  Revere,  and  begged  him  to  go  to \nLexington  also,  to  tell  Adams  and   Hancock  of  the \n\n\nLIGHTS  IN  THE  NORTH  CHURCH.  36 1 \n\nmovement.  Revere  had  given  certain  friends  at \nCharlestown  to  understand  that,  in  case  of  such  a \nmovement  of  troops  by  way  of  the  Neck,  he  would \ndisplay  a  lantern  in  the  steeple  of  Christ  Church  (or \n\"  the  North  Church,\"  as  it  was  familiarly  called),  and \nif  by  Charlestown,  two.  Making  hurried  arrange- \nments, therefore,  to  have  two  lights  hung  out,  he \nhastened  across  the  Charles  River  and  found  his \nfriends,  who  had  seen  the  lights,  waiting  for  him. \nA  horse  was  provided,  and  he  hastened  on  towards \nLexington.  Meantime  most  of  the  inhabitants  of \nBoston  slept  quietly,  little  suspecting  the  momen- \ntous interests  that  were  at  stake.  By  daylight  Gage \nwas  informed  that  the  country  had  been  alarmed  in \nadvance  of  his  troops,  and  he  determined  to  hurry \nforward  reinforcements  underyoungEarl  Percy,  then \nabout  thirty  years  of  age.  It  was  nine  o'clock  before \nthese  were  ready  to  march,  and  then  they  went  out \nthrough  Roxbury  to  the  Brighton  bridge  at  Cam- \nbridge, and  thence  up  the  Menotomy  road  (through \nthe  present  Arlington)  towards  Lexington.  It  was \nhot  and  dusty,  and  Percy's  men  were  soon  fatigued. \nBoston  saw  no  more  of  them  until  eight  o'clock  that \nevening,  when  their  bayonets  gleamed  on  Bunker \nHill,  where  they  bivouacked  for  the  night.  In  the \ninterval  the  \"  battles  \"  of  Lexington  and  Concord  had \nbeen  fought  ;  the  American  minute-men  had  been \ntried,  and  had  learned  that  under  some  circum- \nstances at  least  it  was  possible  for  them  to  make  the \nredcoats  run. \n\nThe  \"  siege  of  Boston  \"  that  was  then  begun  lasted \nfor  eleven  months. \n\n\n362 \n\n\ntVJJ?. \n\n\nJohn  Adams  relates  that  once  on  a  business  Jour- \nney, in  1774,  he  arrived  at  Falmouth  (now  Portland) \nlate  in  the  afternoon  after  riding  at  least  thirty-five \nmiles.  He  said  to  his  hostess:  \"  Madame,  is  it  law- \nful for  a  weary  traveller  to  refresh  himself  with  a  dish \nof  tea,  provided  it  has  been  honestly  smuggled  or \npaid  no  duties?\"  \"No,  sir,\"  said  she;  \"we  have \nrenounced  all  tea  in  this  place ;  but  I  '11  make  you \ncoffee.\"  \"Accordingly,\"  he  added,  \"  I  have  drank \ncoffee  every  afternoon  since,  and  have  borne  it  very \nwell.\" \n\n\nXXV. \n\nBOSTON    BESIEGED. \n\nAfter  the  battles  at  Lexington  and  Concord, \nGovernor  Gage  wrote  to  his  friends  in  England : \n\"Conciliation,  moderation,  reasoning  is  over;  noth- \ning can  be  done  but  by  forcible  means.  Tho'  the \npeople  are  not  held  in  high  estimation  by  the  troops, \nyet  they  are  numerous,  worked  up  to  a  fury,  and  not \na  Boston  rabble,  but  the  farmers  and  the  freeholders \nof  the  country.  A  check  anywhere  will  be  fatal,  and \nthe  first  stroke  will  decide  a  great  deal.  We  should \ntherefore  be  strong,  and  proceed  on  a  good  founda- \ntion before  anything  decisive  is  tried.\"  These  were \ntrue  words,  and  our  story  will  show  how  true  they \nwere.  Gage  acted  upon  them.  During  the  summer \nhe  fortified  the  town  as  carefully  as  he  could,  hav- \ning, after  May  25th,  the  counsel  and  assistance  of \nGeneral  Howe,  who,  with  Burgoyne  and  Clinton  (the \n\"  three  bow-wows,\"  as  they  were  called),  arrived  on \nthat  day. \n\nThe  meetings  of  the  selectmen  of  Boston  ceased \non  the  nineteenth  of  April,  1775,  the  record  being \nbroken  off  in  the  midst  of  a  list  of  the  members  of \nthe  body  who  were  present,  and,  so  far  as  the  records \ngo,  martial  law  then  took  the  place  of  the  usual  gov- \n\n3f'3 \n\n\n364  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\nernment  of  the  town.  Boston  was  closely  shut  up  ; \nand  Governor  Gage  was  obliged  to  leave  all  the  rest \nof  the  province  over  which  he  was  appointed  by \nGeorge  the  Third,  to  be  governed  according  to  the \npleasure  of  those  of  the  colonists  who  were  left  out- \nside. From  every  direction  men  pressed  toward  the \nscene  of  action  as  soon  as  the  alarm  of  the  doings  at \nLexington  and  Concord  reached  them,  and  there  was \na  fair  army  in  Cambridge  by  the  next  evening  after \nthe  battles.  It  was  composed  of  such  men  as  Gage \ndescribes,  and  it  was  so  firm  and  so  efficient  that  no \nforce  was  able  to  get  out  of  the  capital  except  in  one \ndirection, — by  water, — ^and  in  that  direction  all  the \nBritish  were  forced  out  in  the  following  spring. \nMany  of  those  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston  who  sympa- \nthized with  the  British,  hastened  to  find  refuge \nwithin  the  town  ;  and  large  numbers  already  there \nmade  equal  haste  to  get  out,  and  there  was  mutual \nfear  lest  the  Americans  should  march  in,  or  the \nBritish  march  out.  There  was  a  town-meeting  on \nthe  twenty-second,  followed  by  a  conference  with \nGage,  which  resulted  in  an  agreement  to  allow  citi- \nzens who  would  give  up  their  arms  to  take  their \ngoods  and  leave  the  town.  Many  people  actually \ndid  this ;  but  the  general  proved  to  be  like  Pharaoh \nof  old,  for  when  he  feared  that  he  had  made  a  mistake, \nhe  hardened  his  heart,  and  refused  to  let  any  go \nwhom  he  was  able  to  hold  back.  He  reasoned  that \nif  he  could  keep  the  Bostonians  in,  he  would  protect \nhimself,  for  the  patriots  he  thought  would  hesitate \nto  destroy  their  friends.  For  similar  reasons  he \nordered  that  those  who  did  go  out  should  leave  their \n\n\nADAMS  AND   HANCOCK  EXCEPTED.  365 \n\nmost  valuable  possessions  behind  them.  Martial \nlaw  was  formally  established  on  the  twelfth  of  June \nby  a  proclamation,  in  which  pardon  was  offered  to \nall  who  would  accept  it,  with  the  important  excep- \ntions of  Samuel  Adams  and  John  Hancock,  who \nwere  thus  placed  in  the  enviable  position  of  leaders \npar  excellence  of  the  opposing  citizens. \n\nPercy  and  his  troops  did  not  remain  at  their  camp \non  Bunker  Hill.  The  wounded  were  taken  to  Bos- \nton by  transports  as  promptly  as  possible,  and  soon \nafterward  all  the  rest  followed  ;  for  Gage  was  really \nnot  strong  enough  to  do  more  than  protect  himself \nuntil  the  reinforcements  arrived  under  the  \"  three \nbow-wows.\"  The  American  army,  then  under  com- \nmand of  General  Artemas  Ward,  had  reached  the \ntotal  of  fifteen  thousand  men.  There  had  been  no \ngeneral  engagement  since  the  battles  at  Lexington \nand  Concord  ;  but  Charlestown  had  been  astonished \nin  May  by  the  marching  of  an  army  of  two  thousand \nmen  to  the  ferry  and  back  under  General  Putnam  ; \nthe  \"  rebels  \"  had  amused  themselves  also  by  burning \nthe  houses  on  Hog  Island, — \"  just  under  the  admiral's \nnose,\"  Lord  Percy  indignantly  wrote  to  his  father  ; \nthey  had  captured  a  barge  belonging  to  a  man-of- \nwar  at  Noddle's  Island,  and  after  carrying  it  to  Cam- \nbridge in  triumph,  had  taken  it  to  Roxbury  in  a  cart, \nwith  the  sails  up  and  three  men  in  it ;  and  there  had \nbeen  other  raids,  but  no  actual  war.  The  doings \nwith  the  barge  showed  the  exuberant  spirits  of  new \nrecruits  to  whom  blood-shedding  was  unknown. \n\nThe  region  about  was  alarmed  from  time  to  time \nby  reports  that  the  British  were  intending  to  march \n\n\n366  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\nout,  and,  by  the  third  week  in  June,  rumors  of  this \nkind  became  more  definite.  It  was  understood  at \nCambridge  that  an  effort  was  to  be  made  to  fortify \nDorchester  Heights  (now  South  Boston)  and  Charles- \ntown.  General  Ward  determined  to  be  first  at \nBunker  Hill,  and  despatched  a  force,  under  command \nof  Colonel  William  Prescott,  with  orders  to  fortify \nthat  eminence.  When  Prescott  reached  the  point,  a \nconsultation  was  held  under  the  light  of  the  moon, \nand  it  was  determined  to  begin  the  works  on  Breed's \nHill,  which  was  nearer  Boston, — less  than  a  mile,  in- \ndeed, from  the  fortifications  on  Copp's  Hill,  just \nacross  the  Charles  River.  It  was  nine  in  the  even- \ning, of  June  1 6th,  before  the  men  left  Cambridge  ; \nbut  they  worked  very  rapidly,  and  by  dawn  a \nredoubt  had  been  thrown  up  about  eight  rods \nsquare.  Work  was  begun  on  a  breastwork,  to  ex- \ntend from  the  east  side  of  the  redoubt  to  the  bottom \nof  the  hill,  but  hot  and  heavy  firing  by  the  British \ninterrupted  operations.  After  looking  over  the \nground  as  well  as  he  could,  Gage  decided,  against \nthe  advice  of  his  officers,  to  attack  the  works  imme- \ndiately in  front  ;  and  two  thousand  men  were  landed \nfor  the  purpose  under  General  Howe,  near  the  pres- \nent site  of  the  Navy  Yard.  After  hard  fighting  the \nAmericans  were  overcome  by  greater  numbers  and \nforced  to  leave  their  position,  having  lost  one  hun- \ndred and  forty-five  killed  and  missing,  and  three \nhundred  and  four  wounded.  Two  hundred  and \ntwenty-four  of  the  attacking  force  were  killed,  and \neight  hundred  and  thirty  wounded.  It  was  a  fierce \nstruggle,  which  showed  the  colonists  their  fighting \n\n\nBUNKER  HILL.  367 \n\nability,  while  it  taught  the  British  never  to  lead  their \ntroops  against  the  Americans  when  entrenched  ;  and \nit  proved  the  decisive  battle  of  the  war.  The  British \nburned  the  town,  destroying,  with  the  meeting-house, \ncourt-house,  school-houses,  and  nearly  four  hundred \nother  buildings,  all  the  goods  and  chattels  of  the \ninhabitants,  as  well  as  much  property  belonging  to \ncitizens  of  Boston  who  had  hurriedly  carried  it \nthither  for  safety.  Among  the  losses  were  the  books \nand  manuscripts  of  the  Reverend  Samuel  Mather, \ncomprising  those  which  he  had  received  from  his \nfather,  his  grandfather,  and  his  great-grandfather, \nmany  of  them  being,  however,  such  as  the  present \ngeneration  would  probably  consider  of  little  value, \nexcept  as  showing  the  sort  of  books  and  writings \nwhich  were  in  vogue  in  the  colonial   days. \n\nThis  was  a  desperate  battle,  and  Mrs.  John  Adams \nwrites  that  Howe  was  reported  to  have  said  that  the \nfight  upon  the  Plains  of  Abraham  was  but  a  bauble \nto  it.  It  was  thought  astonishing  that  all  the  Ameri- \ncans were  not  cut  off.  The  engagement  began  at \nthree  o'clock  on  Saturday  morning,  and  the  firing \ndid  not  cease  until  after  three  o'clock  Sunday  after- \nnoon. The  towns  about  were  excited.  They  all \ncontained  refugees  from  the  city,  and  everybody \nfeared  that  an  immediate  advance  would  be  made \nover  the  Neck.  There  was  so  much  alarm  at  Brain- \ntree,  that  no  service  was  held  in  the  meeting-house \non  that  Sunday,  nor  even  upon  the  next.  While \nthis  was  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  country,  Boston \nitself  was  no  less  distressed.  After  the  battle,  wag- \nons and  carts  were  in  active  demand  to  convey  the \n\n\n368  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\nwounded  to  hospitals  and  the  dead  to  their  graves, \nand  Howe  was  too  much  occupied  and  astonished  by \nthe  audacity  and  bravery  of  the  Americans  to  make \nplans  for  any  immediate  advance. \n\nWe  must  conceive  of  the  town  at  that  time  as \ndeprived  of  all  of  its  usual  channels  of  supplies;  of \ncourse  provisions  soon  became  scarce,  and  wood  for \nfires  was  to  be  obtained  only  by  taking  down  dwell- \nings and  other  buildings.  Mrs.  Adams,  in  writing  to \nher  husband,  said  : \n\n\"  The  present  state  of  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  is  that \nof  the  most  abject  slaves,  under  the  most  cruel  and  des- \npotic of  tyrants.  Among  many  instances  I  could  men- \ntion, let  me  relate  one.  Upon  the  seventeenth  of  June, \nprinted  handbills  were  posted  up  at  the  corners  of  the \nstreets  and  upon  houses,  forbidding  any  inhabitants  to  go \nupon  their  houses  or  upon  any  eminence  on  pain  of \ndeath  ;  the  inhabitants  dared  not  to  look  out  of  their \nhouses,  nor  to  be  heard  or  seen  to  ask  a  question.  Our \nprisoners  were  brought  over  to  the  Long  Wharf,  and \nthere  lay  all  night,  without  any  care  of  their  wounds,  or \nany  resting-place  but  the  pavements,  until  the  next  day, \nwhen  they  exchanged  it  for  the  jail,  since  which  we  hear \nthey  are  civilly  treated.  Their  living  cannot  be  good,  as \nthey  can  have  no  fresh  provisions  ;  their  beef  we  hear  is \nall  gone,  and  their  wounded  men  die  very  fast,  so  that \nthey  have  a  report  that  the  bullets  were  poisoned.  Fish \nthey  cannot  have,  they  have  rendered  it  so  difficult  to  pro- \ncure ;  and  the  admiral  is  such  a  villain,  as  to  oblige \nevery  fishing  schooner  to  pay  a  dollar  every  time  it  goes \nout.  The  money  that  has  been  paid  for  passes  is  incredi- \nble. Some  have  given  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  and  forty  dol- \nlars to  get  out  with  a  small  proportion  of  their  things.  It \n\n\nTHE  HOWES  DETESTED.  369 \n\nis  reported  and  believed  that  they  have  taken  up  a  num- \nber of  persons  and  committed  them  to  jail,  we  know  not \nfor  what  in  particular.  Master  Lovell  is  confined  in  a \ndungeon  ;  a  son  of  Mr.  Edes  is  in  jail  ;  and  one  Wibert, \na  ship-carpenter,  is  on  trial  for  his  life.  God  alone \nknows  to  what  length  these  wretches  will  go.  We  shall \nsoon  have  no  coffee,  nor  sugar,  nor  pepper  here  ;  but \nwhortleberries  and  milk  we  are  not  obliged  to  commerce \nfor.\" \n\nWords  were  not  strong  enough  to  give  expression \nto  the  hate  and  detestation  felt  for  the  Howes,  and \nJohn  Adams  followed  his  gentle  wife  in  vigorous  de- \nnunciation of  England.  \"  We  have  nothing  to  hope \nfor  from  our  loving  mother-country,\"  he  wrote,  \"  but \ncruelties  more  abominable  than  those  which  are \npractised  by  the  savage  Indians.\"  A  few  days  later, \nMrs.  Adams  received  news  from  a  man  who  escaped \nfrom  Boston  in  a  fishing  schooner,  and  wrote  to  her \nhusband : \n\n\"  Their  distress  increases  upon  them  fast.  Their  beef \nis  all  spent  ;  their  malt  and  cider  all  gone.  All  the  fresh \nprovisions  they  can  procure  they  are  obliged  to  give  to \nthe  sick  and  wounded.  ...  No  man  dared  to  be \nseen  talking  with  his  friend  in  the  street.  They  were \nobliged  to  be  within  every  evening  at  ten  o'clock,  accord- \ning to  martial  law  ;  nor  could  any  inhabitant  walk  any \nstreet  in  town  after  that  time  without  a  pass  from  Gage. \nHe  has  ordered  all  the  molasses  to  be  distilled  into  rum \nfor  the  soldiers  ;  taken  away  all  licenses,  and  given  out \nothers  ;  obliging  to  a  forfeiture  of  ten  pounds  if  any  rum \nis  sold  without  written  orders  from  the  general.  .  .  . \nAs  to  the  situation  of  the  camps,  our  men  are  in  general \n\n\n370  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\nhealthy,  much  more  so  at  Roxbury  than  at  Cambridge. \n.  .  .  Every  article  in  the  West  India  way  is  very \nscarce  and  dear.  In  six  weeks  we  shall  not  be  able \nto  purchase  any  article  of  the  kind.  I  wish  you  would \nlet  Bass  get  me  one  pound  of  pepper  and  two  yards  of \nblack  calamanco  for  shoes.  I  cannot  wear  leather,  if  I \ngo  barefoot.  .  .  .  Not  one  pin  to  be  purchased  for \nlove  or  money.\" \n\nA  writer  inside  of  the  town  wrote  that  the  fare \nwas  \"  pork  and  beans  one  day  and  beans  and  pork \nanother,  and  fish  when  we  can  catch  it.\" \n\nThe  ofificers  of  the  British  occupied  the  best  dwell- \nings they  could  find.  Lord  Percy  lived  apart  of  the \ntime  in  the  Gardiner  Greene  mansion,*  and  a  part  in \na  dwelling  on  the  corner  of  Tremont  and  Winter \nstreets,  which  was  afterwards  the  home  of  Samuel \nBreck  ;  Burgoyne  was  in  the  house  of  the  learned \nJames  Bowdoin,  who  was  governor  of  the  State \nafter  the  war  f  ;  General  Clinton  occupied  the  house \nof  John  Hancock,  on  Beacon  Street,  fronting  the \nCommon.  The  South  meeting-house  was  used  as  a \nriding-school  for  the  light  dragoons ;  some  other \nmeeting-houses  were  occupied  as  barracks ;  the \nNorth  meeting-house  was  pulled  down  for  firewood, \nas  were  many  other  buildings  of  less  pretence,  in- \ncluding, probably,  the  house  of  John  Winthrop,  that \nstood  near  the  Old  South  meeting-house.     Cutting \n\n*  The  estate  of  Gardiner  Greene  comprised  the  greater  portion  of \nPemberton  Hill,  now  kept  in  memory  by  Pemberton  Square,  and  his \ndwelling  was  the  finest  in  Boston. \n\n\\  This  house  stood  on  Beacon  Street,  near  the  corner  of  the  street \nthat  bears  the  governor's  name.  It  stood  back  from  the  street,  and, \nlike  the  massive  building  now  on  the  site,  was  approached  by  a  long \nflight  of  stone  steps. \n\n\nKING  GEORGE  ACTIVE.  371 \n\ndown  the  Liberty  Tree  afforded  the  troops  amuse- \nment one  day. \n\nThe  colonial  congress  met  at  Philadelphia  May \nloth,  and  George  Washington,  of  Virginia,  was  ap- \npointed to  take  the  lead  of  the  armies  of  the  united \ncolonies.  At  the  same  period  the  citizens  of  Massa- \nchusetts, not  being  able  to  get  at  their  rightful \ncapital,  formed  a  new  government,  organizing  the \n\"  Territory  of  Massachusetts  Bay,\"  with  its  capital \nat  Watertown,  where  the  representatives  and  coun- \ncillors, without  any  governor,  held  their  sessions  in \nthe  village  meeting-house.  Washington  was  appoint- \ned two  days  before  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  and \nleft  for  Cambridge  as  soon  as  he  could,  stopping  at \nWatertown  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  new  govern- \nment. On  the  third  of  July  he  took  command  of \nthe  forces,  and  began  to  establish  discipline  among \nthe  men,  who  were  entirely  unaccustomed  to  it.  He \nmade  the  blockade  of  Boston  as  complete  as  possible, \nand  laid  plans  for  the  capture  of  the  town. \n\nOn  the  other  side  of  the  sea,  his  Majesty  George \nthe  Third,  was  fully  occupied  with  considerations \ntouching  America.  He  recalled  Gage  so  soon  as  the \nreport  of  the  \"  victory  \"  at  Bunker  Hill  was  received, \nmade  arrangements  with  the  ruler  of  Hesse  to  buy \nmen  to  send  over  to  fight  his  once  loyal  subjects  in \nBoston.  On  the  twenty-third  of  August,  he  made  a \nproclamation  for  suppressing  rebellion  and  sedition, \nin  which  he  charged  the  colonists  with  forgetfulness \nof  their  allegiance,  with  obstructing  commerce,  with \nactual  rebellion,  and  commanded  all  civil  and  mili- \ntary officers  and  all  loyal  subjects  to  use  their  utmost \nefforts  to  suppress  the  outbreak,  promising  \"  condign \n\n\n372  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\npunishment  \"  to  the  rebels  themselves, — when \ncaught.  His  Majesty  declared  that  he  was  \"  unal- \nterably determined  at  every  hazard,  and  at  the  risk  of \nevery  consequence,  to  compel  the  colonies  to  absolute \nsubmission,\"  and  the  determination  gave  him  the  ap- \npearance of  ease  and  composure,  even  of  gayety,  while \nit  was  said  of  his  minister,  Lord  North,  that  neither  he \nnor  any  one  else  had  ever  been  seen  in  higher  spirits. \nThe  summer  of  1775  was  very  hot,  and  it  was  fol- \nlowed by  a  winter  of  more  than  ordinary  mildness. \nThere  was  inactivity  on  both  sides,  and  this  was,  of \ncourse,  less  endurable  in  the  city  than  outside  of  it. \nThe  British  found  some  enjoyment  in  a  theatre  that \nthey  improvised  at  Faneuil  Hall,  where  amateurs \ntook  parts  in  plays  selected  or  written  for  the  occa- \nsions. One  of  these  is  credited  to  General  Burgoyne. \nIt  was  called  \"  The  Blockade  of  Boston,\"  and  on  the \neighth  of  January,  1776,  when  it  was  performing, \nand  an  actor  was  ridiculing  Washington,  the  alarm \nwas  given  that  the  Yankees  were  attacking  Bunker \nHill.  The  audience  thought  that  this  was  a  part  of \nthe  play,  until  there  came  a  sharp  command  :  \"  Of- \nficers, to  your  posts !  \"  and  the  performance  was \nbrought  to  a  sudden  and  inglorious  end.  In  the \nsame  month,  arrangements  were  made  for  a  masked \nball,  to  be  held  on  the  eleventh  of  the  following \nMarch.     It   was  thus  advertised  : \n\nMasquerade. \n\nOn  Monday,  the  eleventh  of  March,  will  be  given  at \n\nConcert  Hall,  a  Subscription  Masked  Hall. — By  the  fifth  of \n\nMarch  a  number  of  different  masks  will  be  prepared \n\nand  sold  by  almost  all  the  milliners  and  mantua- \n\nmakers  in  town. \n\n\nRUFUS  PUTNAM  MAKES  A    CALL.  373 \n\nThe  Nezvs-Letter  referred  to  the  ball  in  an  editorial \narticle,  on  the  twenty-second  of  February,  saying: \n\"  We  hear  ten  capital  cooks  are  already  employed  in \npreparing  supper  for  the  masquerade,  which  is  to  be \nthe  most  brilliant  thing  ever  seen  in  America.\" \n\nAmong  the  trusted  military  men  about  Washing- \nton was  one  whom  he  was  wont  to  call  the  ablest \nengineer  ofBcer  of  the  war,  whether  American  or \nFrench.  It  was  General  Rufus  Putnam,  a  veteran \nof  the  Old  French  War,  who,  with  a  regiment  from \nWorcester  County,  had  joined  the  camp  at  Cam- \nbridge, just  after  the  battle  at  Lexington.  Washing- \nton wished  for  ice  on  which  he  could  transfer  troops \nfrom  Cambridge  to  Roxbury,  in  order  that  he  might \nmake  an  attack  upon  Boston  from  that  side.  The \nseason  was  open,  and  ice  did  not  form  until  near \nspring,  and  then  the  cold  froze  the  ground  so  that  it \nwas  like  solid  rock  to  the  pickaxe.  One  evening \nduring  the  winter  Washington  invited  Putnam  to  dine \nat  head-quarters,  and  detained  him  after  the  company \nhad  departed  in  order  to  discuss  the  subject  on  his \nmind.  Putnam  was  ordered  to  consider  the  matter, \nand  report  at  once  if  he  should  find  any  means  of \nexecuting  the  plan.  Putnam  left  in  company  with \nanother  gentleman,  and,  on  the  way,  passed  General \nHeath's.  \"  I  had  no  thoughts  of  calling,\"  he  re- \nlates, \"  until  I  came  against  his  door,  and  then  I \nsaid  :  '  L-et  us  call  on  General  Heath,'  to  which  he \nagreed.  I  had  no  other  motive  but  to  pay  my \nrespects  to  the  general.  While  there  I  cast  my  eye \non  a  book  which  lay  on  the  table,  lettered  on  the \nback  '  Muller's  Field   Engineer.'     I   immediately  re- \n\n\n374  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\nquested  the  general  to  lend  it  to  me.  He  denied \nme.  I  repeated  my  request.  He  again  refused,  and \ntold  me  he  never  lent  his  books.  I  then  told  him  that \nhe  must  recollect  that  he  was  one  who,  at  Roxbury, \nin  a  measure  compelled  me  to  undertake  a  business \nwhich,  at  the  time,  I  confessed  I  had  never  read  a \nword  about,  and  that  he  must  let  me  have  the  book. \nAfter  some  more  excuses  on  his  part,  and  close \npressing  on  mine,  I  obtained  the  loan  of  it.\"  When \nPutnam  glanced  over  the  ta*ble  of  contents  his  eye \nwas  attracted  by  the  word  \"  chandelier,\"  which  was \nnew  to  him.  The  word  was  described  as  applying \nto  a  movable  parapet  of  wood  instead  of  earth,  made \nof  stout  timbers  ten  feet  long,  into  which  were \nframed  posts  five  feet  high  and  five  feet  apart. \nThese  were  placed  on  the  ground  in  parallel  lines, \nand  the  spaces  were  filled  in  with  bundles  of  fascines \nstrongly  picketed  together.  The  problem  was  solved. \nWashington  decided  to  take  advantage  of  the \nreturn  of  the  day  of  the  \"Massacre\"  to  open  his \nfires.  Putnam  set  men  at  work  in  apple  orchards  and \nwoodlands  cutting  and  bundling  up  the  fascines  and \ngetting  them  ready  for  the  appointed  time.  As  has \nbeen  well  said :  \"  When  the  sun  went  down  on  Boston \non  the  fourth  of  March  Washington  was  at  Cam- \nbridge, and  Dorchester  Heights  were  as  nature  or \nthe  husbandmen  had  left  them  in  the  autumn.\" \nDuring  that  night  troops  were  transported  thither, \nthe  chandeliers  were  put  in  position,  the  ground  was \nthrown  up  in  the  form  of  earthworks  by  willing \nhands,  and  in  the  morning  the  British,  looking  through \na  fojT  that   had  before  covered  the  Americans  and \n\n\nGOING  TO   HALIFAX.  375 \n\nnow  magnified  the  size  of  their  works,  found  them- \nselves overlooked  by  fortifications  that  seemed  of \nindefinite  magnitude.  It  took  General  Howe  but \ntwenty-four  hours  to  decide  that  his  position  must \nbe  evacuated,  and  after  a  delay  of  some  days,  he \nacted  upon  that  decision. \n\nBy  four  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning,  March  17th, \nthe  British  began  to  embark  on  their  ships,  and \nby  ten  o'clock,  so  rapid  was  the  movement,  the \nvessels  were  all  under  sail,  carrying  with  them  such \nloyalists  as  had  remained  in  the  town  to  share  the \ndiscomfiture.  As  the  last  passengers  went  on \nboard,  General  Washington  entered  the  abandoned \ntown,  crossing  the  Neck  by  the  street  which  now \nbears  his  name  in  memory  of  the  fact.  He  was \nreceived  with  acclamations  as  he  passed  along,  for \nthe  citizens  were  happy  to  be  released  from  their \ntrials. \n\nOn  the  day  that  the  mantua-makers  were  to  have \nsold  masks  for  the  most  brilliant  ball  ever  seen  in \nAmerica,  \"  an  ofificer  of  distinction\"  wrote  that  the \nAmericans  had,  during  the  previous  night  raised \nredoubts  at  Dorchester,  \"  with  an  expedition  equal \nto  that  of  the  genii  belonging  to  Aladdin's  wonder- \nful lamp  \"  ;  and  the  next  day  he  continued  :  \"  We \nare  now  evacuating  the  town  with  the  utmost  expe- \ndition, and  are  leaving  behind  us  half  our  worldly \ngoods.\"  Before  the  day  arrived  that  had  been  set \nfor  the  ball,  Boston  was  in  utter  confusion,  in  vigor- \nous efforts  to  complete  what  the  same  distinguished \nofificer  called  \"  the  retreat  from  the  town.\"  If  the \n\"  ten  cooks  \"  prepared  the  supper  of  which  the  edi- \n\n\n3/6  BOSTON  BESIEGED. \n\ntor  of  the  News-Letter  heard,  they  lost  their  labor. \nAt  noon  of  the  day  of  Washington's  entry,  Mrs, \nAdams  wrote  : \n\n\"  To  what  a  contemptible  situation  are  the  troops  of \nBritain  reduced  !  .  .  .  I  hear  that  General  Howe  said, \nupon  going  on  some  eminence  to  view  our  troops,  who \nhad  taken  Dorchester  Hill  unperceived  by  them  until \nsunrise  :  '  My  God  !  these  fellows  have  done  more  work \nin  one  night  than  I  could  make  my  army  do  in  three  months.' \nAnd  he  might  well  say  so,  for  in  one  night  two  forts  and \nlong  breastworks  were  sprung  up,  besides  several  bar- \nracks. Three  hundred  and  seventy  teams  were  employed, \nmost  of  which  went  three  loads  in  the  night,  besides  four \nthousand  men,  who  worked  with  good  hearts.  From \nPenn's  Hill  we  have  a  view  of  the  largest  fleet  ever  seen \nin  America.  You  may  count  upwards  of  one  hundred \nand  seventy  sail.     They  look  like  a  forest.\" \n\nThe  close  of  the  siege  of  Boston  is  also  the  close \nof  a  period  in  the  existence  of  the  town.  Previously \nto  that  event  it  had  been  the  most  important  place \nin  the  colonies,  and  the  one  against  which  the  Brit- \nish ministry  aimed  their  most  virulent  shafts.  The \nsiege  reduced  the  population  to  about  six  thousand \ninhabitants,  though  there  had  been  more  than  three \ntimes  as  many  before,  and  during  the  period  of \nrecuperation  that  followed,  it  contained  but  little \nmore  than  twelve  thousand  inhabitants,  while  New \nYork  had  more  than  twice  as  many.  The  heroic  age \nof  Boston  ended  when  Washington  took  possession \nof  it  for  America.  There  was  thereafter  no  more \nwar  within  its  limits  ;  there  was  no  longer  a  struggle \nfor  a  charter  ;   there  was  no  odious  tax  to  be   dis- \n\n\nPEACE  IN  BOSTON. \n\n\n177 \n\n\ncussed,  denounced,  and  rebelled  against  ;  thenceforth \nthere  was  only  the  practice  of  the  arts  of  peace, \nof  commercial  enterprise,  varied  by  exhibitions  of \npatriotism  when  any  other  portion  of  the  land  was \naggrieved,  when  the  life  of  the  nation  itself  was \nthreatened.  Boston  was  destined  to  grow  in  the \nlines  that  the  fathers  laid  out  for  it,  to  become  rich \nand  to  be  useful ;  but  never  again  was  it  to  have  an \nheroic  age. \n\n\n^ \n\n^^^^^flE^^^^T! \n\nn \n\n^i\";  '^ \n\np|p^ \n\n^^ \n\nS^gSfB \n\n^a \n\nWk^^j \n\n^^*oIk' \n\n^i \n\n*^ri|^E^^fta \n\n^J^ \n\n^^^S \n\nTn— ^-^---^g^J^T. \n\n^^y \n\nXXVI. \n\nINDEPENDENCE   DECLARED   AND   WON. \n\nAfter  the  departure  of  the  British,  the  scene  of \naction  for  the  men  of  Massachusetts  changed,  and \nthe  more  enlarged  sphere  opened  to  such  men  as \nSamuel  and  John  Adams,  Hancock,  Gushing,  and \nthe  others  who  had  made  the  town-meeting  and  the \nprovincial  legislature  their  means  of  influencing  pub- \nlic opinion.  It  has  been  said  that  \"  no  other  town \never  played  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  connexion  with \nimportant  events  \"  as  Boston  did  in  the  early  period. \nSamuel  Adams,  said  Hutchinson  with  truth,  depended \nupon  the  town-meeting,  where  he  originated  the \nmeasures  that  were  followed  by  the  other  towns  in \nthe  province,  and  adopted  and  justified  by  the  legis- \nlature, and,  he  might  have  added,  were  considered \nat  Philadelphia,  and,  by  his  influence  there,  made  a \npart  of  the  impulse  that  stirred  the  continent.  Mas- \nsachusetts thus,  through  its  representatives,  moved \nthe  general  congress ;  Boston  gave  the  cue  to  Massa- \nchusetts, and  Samuel  Adams-ruled  Boston.  Jefferson \nconsidered  Samuel  Adams,  \"  more  than  any  other \nmember  of  congress,  the  fountain  of  the  most  import- \nant measures,\"  and  declared  that  \"  if  there  was  any \nPalinurus  to  the  Revolution,\"  he  was  the  man.  Adams \n\n378 \n\n\nTHE  AMERICAN  PALINURUS.  379 \n\nwas  constantly  holding  caucuses  in  Philadelphia,  as \nhe  had  held  them  in  Boston,  that  were  attended  by \ndistinguished  men,  where  \"the  generality  of  the \nmeasures  pursued  were  previously  determined  on, \nand  at  which  the  parts  were  assigned  to  the  differ- \nent actors  who  afterwards  appeared  in  them.  John \nAdams  had  a  very  little  part  in  these  caucuses  ;  but \nas  one  of  the  actors  in  the  measures  decided  on  in \nthem,  he  was  the  Colossus.\"  * \n\nAt  an  early  period  Samuel  Adams  was  called  \"  the \nFather  of  America,\"  and  certainly  no  one  better  de- \nserved the  title  ;  after  his  death  he  was  spoken  of  as \nthe  \"  Father  of  the  American  Revolution,\"  and  no \none  could  dispute  that  honor  with  him.  It  is  not \nour  province  to  follow  the  events  that  Massachusetts \nmen  were  engaged  in  after  they  called  them  away \nfrom  Boston,  but  some  reference  to  contemporary \nhistory  is  unavoidable. \n\nThe  British  fleet  remained  in  the  harbor  some \ntime  after  the  evacuation  of  Boston,  and  deserters \nreported  that  there  was  much  sickness  among  the \nmen.  Efforts  were  initiated  for  setting  fire  to  the \nvessels,  but  before  they  were  ready  the  ships  sailed \naway,  perhaps  informed  of  the  proposed  attempt. \nWashington  went  away  in  April,  1776,  leaving  Arte- \nmas  Ward  in  command,  and  he  was  followed  in \nsuccession  by  Heath  and  Gates.  Efforts  were  made \nto  fortify  Fort  Hill ;  the  islands  were  inspected,  and \nslowly  the  place  was  made  strong  ;  but  there  were \noccasional  alarms  lest  the  fleet  should  return  and  do \ndamage.       When    the    inhabitants    recovered    from \n\n*   Thomas  Jefferson,  imder  date  1825. \n\n\n38o      INDEPENDENCE  DECLARED   AND   WON. \n\ntheir  amazement  and  looked  around,  they  found \ntheir  homes  in  many  cases  devastated,  though  a  few \nof  the  occupants  at  the  time  of  the  siege  had  left \nsums  of  money  for  them  in  the  nature  of  rent. \nGoods  were  held  at  extravagant  prices  in  the  two  or \nthree  shops  open,  and  it  was  difflcult  to  obtain  men \nto  do  necessary  work.  The  fortifications  erected  by \nGage  on  the  Neck  were  soon  levelled,  and  the  two \nthousand  effective  men  that  Washington  left,  when \nhe  went  to  the  southward,  were  put  in  the  best  order \npossible  for  the  protection  of  the  town. \n\nThe  Americans  watched  the  movements  of  the \nships  that  came  toward  Boston,  as  well  as  of  those  that \nwent  from  it,  and  in  May  a  large  armed  ship,  named \nthe  Hope,  appeared,  bringing  supplies  to  the  town, \nwhich  was  thought  to  be  still  occupied  by  a  British \ngarrison.  Ward  had  commissioned  a  brave  captain, \nnamed  Mugford,  to  watch  for  such  vessels,  and  he \nattacked  this  one,  which  proved  to  have  on  board \namong  its  cargo  a  supply  of  powder,  which  was  then \nmuch  needed.  Mugford  carried  her  safely  to  Bos- \nton. There  were  other  similar  captures,  which \nrelieved  the  Bostonians  and  were  thankfully  ac- \nknowledged.    Mrs.  Adams   wrote  : \n\n\"  The  remarkable  interpositions  of  Heaven  in  our  be- \nhalf cannot  be  too  gratefully  acknowledged.  He  who \nfed  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness,  '  who  clothes  the \nlilies  of  the  field,  and  feeds  the  young  ravens  when  they \ncry,'  will  not  forsake  a  people  engaged  in  so  righteous  a \ncause,  if  we  remember  his  loving-kindness.  We  wanted \npowder — we  have  a  supply.  We  wanted  arms — we  have \nbeen  favored  in  that  respect.     We  wanted  hard  money — \n\n\nLOCAL    GOVERNMENTS  FORMED.  38 1 \n\ntwenty-two  thousand  dollars  and  an  equal  value  in  plate \nare  delivered  into  our  hands.\" \n\nCongress  was  in  session  at  Philadelphia,  and  on \nthe  nineteenth  of  May,  1776,  a  vote  was  passed, \nrecommending  each  of  the  colonies  to  form  a  local \ngovernment.  The  resolution  asserted  that  it  was \nirreconcilable  with  the  conscience  and  reason  of  the \npeople  to  take  oaths  to  support  the  royal  govern- \nments, that  all  such  ought  to  be  suppressed,  and \ngovernments  established  that  depended  upon  the \npower  of  the  sovereign  people.  The  tories  opposed \nthis,  of  course,  and  so  did  the  representatives  of  the \nproprietary  governments  of  the  middle  colonies,  and \nthere  was  an  outburst  of  bitter  passion  ;  but  all  op- \nposition was  powerless,  and  the  resolution  became \nthe  platform  of  the  popular  party,  the  touchstone  of \nfidelity.  Massachusetts,  we  know,  had  already  taken \nthis  action  ;  New  Hampshire  had  followed  in  Janu- \nary, 1776  ;  and  South  Carolina  did  the  same  March \n26th  that  year.  A  few  days  before  this,  the  most \ninfluential  member  of  the  Massachusetts  legislature, \nthen  in  session  at  Watertown,  wrote : \n\n*'  The  tories  dread  a  declaration  of  independence,  and \na  course  of  conduct  on  that  plan,  worse  than  death.  .  .  . \nMy  hand  and  heart  are  full  of  it.  There  will  be  no \nabiding  union  without  it.  .  .  .  Without  a  real  conti- \nnental government,  our  army  will  overrun  us  ;  and  peo- \nple will,  by  and  by, — sooner  than  you  may  be  aware  of, \n— call  for  their  old  constitutions,  as  they  did  in  England, \nafter  Cromwell's  death,  call  in  Charles  the  Second.  For \nGod's  sake,  let  there  be  a  full  revolution,  or  all  has  been \ndone  in  vain.     Independency  and  a  well-planned  conti- \n\n\n382      INDEPENDENCE   DECLARED   AND   WON. \n\nnental  government  will  save  us.    God  bless  you  !    Amen \nand  amen  !  \" \n\nOne  branch  of  the  Massachusetts  legislature  passed \na  vote  in  favor  of  a  declaration  of  independence,  but \nthe  other  refused  to  agree  until  Congress  had  lecris- \nlated  on  the  subject,  because  it  was  considered  that \nsuch  action  might  appear  dictatorial,  and  thus  injure \nthe  cause.     Both  branches  agreed,   however,  on  an \nact   requiring  all  citizens  to   \"  defend  by  arms  the \nUnited   Colonies,  and  every  part   thereof,\"  against \nthe  fleets  and  armies  of  Britain,  and  the  towns  were \ncalled  upon  to  meet  and  determine  whether,  in  case \nCongress    should    declare    for    independence,    they \nwould  solemnly  engage  with  their  lives  and  fortunes \nto   support   the   measure.     Accordingly,   the  towns \nmet  in  May  and  June,  and  voted,  that  if  the  Ameri- \ncan Republic  were  not  established,  the  age  would  be \nrecreant  to  its  duty  ;  that  there  was  no  alternative \nbut  ruin  or  independence  ;  that  they  would  defend \nsuch  a  measure  to  the  death,  as  the  various  phrase- \nology ran. \n\n\"  In  this  way,  from  the  battlefields  of  Lexington  and \nConcord,  from  the  ruins  at  the  base  of  Bunker  Hill, \nfrom  Faneuil  Hall,  from  a  hundred  villages  aglow  with \npatriotic  fires,  went  forth  the  pledge  of  determined  and \nstern  men  to  support  such  a  declaration  as  Congress \nmight  make  with  their  fortunes  and  their  lives.\"  * \n\nTwelve  of  the  thirteen  colonies  (all,  except  New \nYork)  had,  by  the  end  of  June,  given  their  voices  in \nfavor  of  a  declaration  of  independence,  and  had  des- \nignated Congress  as  the  body  to  take  the  final  action. \n\n*  Frothingham,  \"  The  Rise  of  the  Republic,\"  pages  507,  508. \n\n\nJOHN  ADAMS  AGREEABLY  SURPRISED.      383 \n\nUnder  these  circumstances  Congress  met  at  Phila- \ndelphia on  the  first  of  July,  having  among  its  number \ntwo  members, — Samuel  Adams  and  John  Hancock, \n— who  were  outlaws,  proscribed  by  the  king,  and  it \nset  itself  to  the  consideration  of  independency,  the \nonly  topic  that  seemed  of  present  importance.  John \nAdams,  of  Massachusetts,  was  called  upon  to  present \nthe  arguments  in  favor  of  the  step  that  seemed  to \nbe  demanded.  He  rose  reluctantly  and  somewhat \nconfused,  he  said,  and  expressed  his  views.  The \ndebate  that  followed  was  not  long,  and  on  the  follow- \ning day  it  was  solemnly  resolved  that  \"  These  United \nColonies  are  and  of  right  ought  to  be  free  and  inde- \npendent states ;  that  they  are  absolved  from  all \nallegiance  to  the  British  crown  ;  and  that  all  political \nconnexion  between  them  and  the  state  of  Great \nBritain  is  and  ought  to  be  totally  dissolved.\"  Then \nJohn  Adams  wrote  to  his  wife : \n\n\"  The  greatest  question  has  been  decided  which  ever \nwas  debated  in  America,  and  a  greater  perhaps  than  ever \nwas  or  will  be  decided  among  men.  .  .  .  When  I \nlook  back  to  the  year  1761,  and  recollect  the  argument \nconcerning  the  writs  of  assistance  in  the  Superior  Court, \nwhich  I  have  hitherto  considered  as  the  commencement \nof  this  controversy  between  Great  Britain  and  America, \nand  run  through  the  whole  period  from  that  time  to  this, \nand  recollect  the  series  of  political  events,  the  chain  of \ncauses  and  effects,  I  am  surprised  at  the  suddenness  as \nwell  as  the  greatness  of  this  revolution.  Britain  has \nbeen  filled  with  folly  and  America  with  wisdom,  at  least \nthis  is  my  judgment.  Time  must  determine.  It  is  the \nwill  of  heaven  that  the  two  countries  should  be  sundered \nforever.\" \n\n\n384      INDEPENDENCE  DECLARED  AND   WON. \n\nJohn  Adams  said  that  the  second  day  of  July- \nought  to  be  celebrated  as  a  great  anniversary  festival \nby  succeeding  generations, — \"  commemorated  as  a \nday  of  deliverance, — by  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to \nGod  Almighty.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized  with \npomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games,  sports,  guns, \nbells,  bonfires,  and  illuminations  from  one  end  of \nthis  continent  to  the  other,  from  this  time  forward \nforevermore.\" \n\nHow  was  the  news  that  Adams  sent  to  his  wife \nwith  such  an  outburst  of  patriotic  enthusiasm,  re- \nceived in  Boston  ?  The  day  of  the  Thursday  lecture \nwas  set  apart  for  the  reading  of  the  Declaration,  and \nafter  a  good  sermon  the  congregation  followed  the \ncrowd  to  King  Street.  The  town  was  thronged  by \ncrowds  in  holiday  suits,  with  Joy  beaming  from  every \neye.  Artillery  was  drawn  up  in  front  of  the  jail  on \nCourt  Street,  and  infantry  lined  the  adjoining  streets. \nExactly  as  the  clock  struck  one,  Colonel  Thomas \nCrafts  appeared  on  the  balcony  of  the  State  House, \nand  read  the  Declaration,  the  great  audience  listen- \ning with  attention  to  every  word.  When  he  sat \ndown  a  shout,  ''  God  save  our  American  States  !  \" \nwas  heard  in  the  hall,  to  which  the  throng  below  re- \nsponded with  three  hearty  cheers ;  the  bells  rang, \ncannon  were  discharged  from  the  shipping  and  from \nthe  forts  and  batteries,  the  infantry  followed,  and \nMr.  Bowdoin  gave  the  sentiment,  \"  Stability  and \nPerpetuity  to  American  Independence  !  \"  The  better \nclass  of  citizens  attended  a  banquet  in  the  council- \nchamber ;  much  liquor  was  distributed  to  the  popu- \nlace, according  to  the  old  custom  ;  and   the   king's \n\n\n'fc>  \"^  \"\"'-  ^*^  N-^^^V^.i.       .  IW.^  ^l.V,  .-XWj^ \n\n\nTHE  DEFICIENCIES  OF  BOSTONIANS.        385 \n\narms  were  taken  down  from  the  town-house,  cus- \ntom-house, court-house,  and  every  other  place,  and \nconsumed  in  a  general  bonfire  in  front  of  the  Bunch \nof  Grapes  tavern  at  the  corner  of  Kilby  and  State \nstreets.  In  the  evening  there  was  a  general  illumina- \ntion, and  as  Mrs.  Adams  wrote:  \"Thus  ends  royal \nauthority  in  this  state ;  and  all  the  people  shall  say \namen!\"  On  the  fifteenth  of  August,  by  order  of \nthe  council.  Dr.  Chauncy  read  the  Declaration  from \nthe  pulpit  of  the  Brick  Church,  which  stood  on  the \nspot  now  occupied  by  the  Joy  Building,  on  Wash- \nington Street,  and  asked  a  \"  blessing  upon  the \nUnited  States  of  America,  even  until  the  restitution \nof  all  things,\"  in  a  manner  that  universally  struck \nhis  audience.  Mrs.  Adams  thought,  however,  that \nBoston  was  behind  the  other  colonies  in  joy  over \nthe  establishment  of  the  new  government. \n\nBoth  John  Adams  and  his  wife  had  high  notions \nof  what  ought  to  be  expected  of  Boston,  and  in \nmany  respects  they  doubtless  were  right.  Mr. \nAdams  wrote  from  Philadelphia  that  there  was  no \none  thing  in  which  Massachusetts  excelled  the  other \ncolonies  so  much  as  in  its  university,  scholars,  and \npreachers.  \"  Particular  gentlemen,  here,\"  he  added, \n\"  who  have  improved  upon  their  education  by  travel, \nshine ;  but  in  general  old  Massachusetts  outshines \nher  younger  sisters.  Still,  in  several  particulars  they \nhave  more  wit  than  we.  They  have  societies,  the \nPhilosophical  Society,  particularly,  which  excites  a \nscientific  emulation,  and  propagates  their  fame.  .  .  . \nMy  countrymen  want  art  and  address.  They  want \nknowledge  of  the  world.     They  want   the   exterior \n\n\n386      IXDEPENDENCE  DECLARED  AND  WON. \n\nand  superficial  accomplishments  of  gentlemen,  upon \nwhich  the  world  has  set  so  high  a  value.  In  solid \nabilities  and  real  virtues  they  vastly  excel,  in  gen- \neral, any  people  upon  this  continent.  Our  New \nEngland  people  are  awkward,  and  bashful,  yet  they \nare  pert,  ostentatious,  and  vain  ;  a  mixture  which \nexcites  ridicule  and  gives  disgust.  They  have  not \nthe  faculty  of  showing  themselves  to  the  best  ad- \nvantage, nor  the  art  of  concealing  this  faculty ;  an \nart  and  faculty  which  some  people  possess  in  the \nhighest  degree.  Our  deficiencies  in  these  respects \nare  owing  wholly  to  the  little  intercourse  we  have \nhad  with  strangers,  and  to  our  inexperience  in  the \nworld.  These  imperfections  must  be  remedied,  for \nNew  England  must  produce  the  heroes,  the  states- \nmen, the  philosophers,  or  America  will  make  no \ngreat  figure  for  some  time.\"  * \n\nAt  this  time  the  cost  of  living  was  double  what  it \nhad  been  the  year  previous ;  the  merchant  com- \nplained of  the  farmer,  and  the  farmer  of  the  mer- \nchant, but  both  were  alike  extravagant,  in  the \nopinion  of  the  buyer.  Mrs.  Adams  wrote  to  her \nhusband  that  she  wished  a  little  green  tea,  for  there \nwas  none  to  be  had  in  Boston  ;  but  she  explained \nthat  she  merely  wished  it  as  a  \"  medicine  and  as  a \nrelief  to  a  nervous  pain  \"  in  her  head,  and  added, \nperhaps  to  show  the  unreasonableness  of  human \nnature  :  \"  Were  it  as  plenty  as  ever,  I  would  not \npractise  the  use  of  it.\"  With  the  progress  of  the \nwar  there  came  a  gradual  change  in  Boston  society, \nand  extravagance  of  manners  and  of  equipage  fol- \n\n*  \"  Familiar  Letters  of  John  Adams  and  his  Wife,\"  page  207. \n\n\nRUM  AND  MUTTON  SCARCE.  387 \n\nlowed.  Mr.  Curwen  in  his  diary  relates  (February \n10,  1780)  that  those  who  in  1772  were  the  \"meaner \npeople,\"  became  a  few  years  later,  by  a  strange  rev- \nolution, almost  the  only  men  of  power,  riches,  and \ninfluence,  while  those  who  at  that  time  had  been \nleaders  in  the  highest  line  of  life,  were  happy  if  by \nremaining  unknown  they  could  escape  \"  insult  and \nplunder.\"  This  is  the  opinion  of  a  loyalist,  who  had \nleft  his  country  to  escape  the  indignation  of  the \npatriotic  people  ;  but  Mrs.  Adams  wrote  to  her  hus- \nband that  a  lethargy  seemed  to  have  overcome  the \npeople,  that  there  was  a  great  rage  for  privateering \nas  a  means  of  gaining  riches  ;  that  the  town  of  Bos- \nton seemed  to  be  really  destitute  of  the  choice \nspirits  that  once  inhabited  it ;  that  though^  she  had \nnot  heard  that  toryism  was  on  the  increase,  there \nwas  a  spirit  of  avarice,  a  contempt  of  authority,  an \ninordinate  love  of  gain,  and  that  prices  of  ordinary \nnecessaries  of  life  were  exorbitant,  in  spite  of  an  ordi- \nnance vainly  passed  for  the  purpose  of  restraining \nspeculation.  New  England  rum  was,  in  the  spring  of \n1777,  as  high  as  eight  shillings  a  gallon,  and  molasses \nthe  same  ;  coffee,  two  and  sixpence  a  pound  ;  and \nmutton,  lamb,  and  pork  not  to  be  had  at  any  price. \nThere  were  those  who  refused  to  take  paper-money, \noffered  articles  for  sale  at  a  lower  price  for  silver, \nand  bought  up  goods  for  the  purpose  of  speculation, \nwhich  they  would  not  sell  at  any  price  for  paper. \nFive  of  these  were,  one  Saturday  afternoon,  in  April, \n1777,  carted  through  the  streets  of  Boston  to  Rox- \nbury,  followed  by  a  concourse  of  some  five  hundred \npersons,  under  command  of  one  \"  Joice  junior,\"  who \n\n\n388      INDEPENDENCE  DECLARED  AND  WON. \n\nwas  on  horseback,  dressed  in  a  white  wig,  a  red  coat, \nand  bearing  a  drawn  sword.  The  drum  and  fife \nmade  music.  When  Roxbury  was  reached  Joice \nordered  the  cart  tipped  up,  and  the  men  were \ninformed  that  if  they  were  found  in  Boston  again  it \nwould  be  at  the  expense  of  their  Hves.  \"  Joice \njunior  \"was  a  name  given  to  a  man  appointed  to \nthis  duty  of  terrifying  royahsts,  and  it  seems  that  he \nattended  well  to  his  work. \n\nA  little  later,  a  number  of  \"  females,\"  angry  be- \ncause some  merchants  held  their  sugar  for  a  rise  in \nprice,  went  to  the  store  of  one  of  them,  Thomas \nBoylston,  a  bachelor,  called  by  Mrs.  Adams  \"  emi- \nnent, wealthy,  stingy,\"  and  demanded  his  keys,  which \nhe  refused  to  give  up.  They  were  provided  with \ncarts  and  trucks,  and  Mr.  Boylston  was  quickly  seized \nby  the  neck  and  tossed  into  one  of  them  ;  whereupon \nhe  delivered  up  his  keys  and  was  tipped  out  again. \nThe  warehouse  was  opened,  and  a  hogshead  of  coffee \nwas  hoisted  out  and  carried  away.  It  is  related  that \n\"  a  large  concourse  of  men  stood  amazed,  silent \nspectators  of  the  whole  transaction.\" \n\nLess  than  a  week  after  this  all  Boston  was  in  con- \nfusion, for  there  was  a  rumor  that  the  enemy  was \nabout  to  attack  it.  People  were  seen  hastily  pack- \ning up  and  carting  from  the  town  all  the  household \ngoods,  merchandise  and  military  stores  that  could \nbe  gathered  together  at  once,  and  a  thousand  teams \nwere  employed  in  taking  them  into  the  country. \nThe  alarm  was,  however,  found  to  have  been  base- \nless. The  progress  of  the  war  led  the  people  to \nseek  to   cultivate  their  own   resources,   and  among \n\n\nBURGOYNE  IN  CAMBRIDGE.  389 \n\nother  expedients  it  was  thought  that  molasses  and \neven  sugar  might  be  obtained  from  the  corn-stalk. \nScarcely  a  town  about  Boston  was  without  mills  for \nthe  purpose  of  crushing  the  stalks  and  making  mo- \nlasses, which  it  was  thought  might  be  boiled  down \ninto  sugar. \n\nThe  news  of  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne's  army  at \nSaratoga,  in  October,  1777,  was  received  in  Boston \nwith  the  usual  demonstrations  of  joy.  A  service  of \nthanksgiving  and  praise  w^as  held  on  the  twenty- \nsixth  of  the  month,  and  the  \"  vaporing  Burgoyne  \" \nwas  expected  in  Cambridge  soon  after.  The  general \nhimself  entered  town  in  a  pelting  storm,  and  was \nquartered  at  Porter's  Hotel,  then  Bradish's  Tav- \nern, which  was  afterwards  exchanged  for  the  large \ndwelling  opposite  the  college  library,  often  called \nthe  \"  Bishop's  Palace.\"  The  captured  artillery  was \nparked  on  the  Common.  General  Riedesel  and  his \nwife  were  assigned  to  the  \"  Jonathan  Sewall  house,\" \nwhich  then  stood  on  the  corner  of  Brattle  and  Sparks \nstreets,  but  now,  in  a  considerably  altered  condition, \nhas  found  a  resting-place  on  the  corner  next  beyond, \nthe  street  being  named  in  honor  of  the  baron.  '  The \nHessian  and  English  soldiers  were  strictly  guarded \nb}^  Massachusetts  militia.  They  were  sent  in  de- \ntachments to  the  interior  of  the  State,  the  last \nleaving  in  October,   1778. \n\nThough  Mrs.  Adams  had  not  heard  of  the  appear- \nance of  toryism,  it  seems  that  the  spirit  made  itself \nfelt  in  the  spring  elections  in  Boston  in  1778,  when \nsome  of  those  who  had  gone  to  Halifax  with  Howe \nreturned  and  asked  to  be  permitted  to   resume  their \n\n\n390      INDEPENDENCE  DECLARED  AND  WON. \n\nformer  rights  and  residence.  Samuel  Adams  espe- \ncially was  positive  against  such  action.  He  had \nwished  to  see  Boston  a  \"  Christian  Sparta,\"  and  he \nfelt  that  the  influence  of  the  tories  was  always  on  the \nside  of  display  and  ostentation,  of  extravagance  and \nluxury,  which  he  thought  demoralizing  to  the  com- \nmunity and  fatal  to  liberty.  He  felt  sure  that  the \ntories  were  all  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  return \nand  damage  the  prospects  of  the  country,  and  he \nthought  it  unwise  as  well  as  impolitic  to  give  them \nany  assistance  in  their  evil  work. \n\nSamuel  Adams  had  been  made  Secretary  of  State  in \n1775,  and  though  he  was  much  of  the  time  absent  at \nPhiladelphia  he  was  continued  in  office,  performing  its \nduties  personally  when  in  Boston  and  through  a  dep- \nutyat  other  times.  In  the  summer  of  1779  he  returned \nto  his  home,  but  it  was  to  find  Boston  society  quite \ndifferent  from  what  it  had  been  when  he  first  began \nthe  fight  for  independence.  Otis  was  gone,  Warren \nwas  gone,  Josiah  Quincy  junior  had  died  abroad,  and \nHancock,  whom  he  had  brought  to  the  front,  had  be- \ncome his  bitter  opponent.  The  characters  of  Samuel \nAdams  and  John  Hancock  were  directly  opposite  to \none  another.  Adams  now  came  back  by  slow  stages \non  horseback  to  an  humble  home  destitute  of  every \nluxury,  which  he  occupied  by  the  liberality  of  the \nlegislature,  for  he  had  never  been  able  to  repair  his \nPurchase  Street  dwelling  after  the  depredations  of \nthe  British  during  the  siege.  Hancock  travelled \nfrom  Philadelphia  accompanied  by  a  guard  of  cav- \nalry, and  housed  himself  in  a  mansion  adorned  with \nall  that  money  could  buy,  in  which  he  lavishly  enter- \n\n\nBALLS  AND  DIVERSLONS.  39I \n\ntained  the  rich  and  the  great.  Hancock,  who  had \nopposed  the  scheme  for  the  committees  of  corre- \nspondence, which  had  been  so  warmly  adopted  by \nSamuel  Adams  and  proved  so  useful,  came  again  into \nantagonism  with  him  when  he  seconded  the  motion \nof  John  Adams  that  Washington  should  be  com- \nmander-in-chief of  the  Colonial  forces.  The  feelings \nof  Hancock  against  Adams  must  for  some  years  have \nbeen  of  the  worst,  but  they  were  changed  in  1788, \nwhen  the  twain  were  candidates  together  for  ofifice \nin  their  native  state,  and  their  names  w^ere  printed \nin  letters  of  gold  on  the  electoral  tickets  in  token  of \nthe  gratification  that  the  fact  gave  to  their  sup- \nporters. \n\nIn  the  autumn  of  1780  the  first  election  occurred  un- \nder a  new  state  constitution  that  had  been  adopted  the \nprevious  spring,*  and  Hancock  was  elected  governor. \nThe  occasion  of  the  beginning  of  the  new  govern- \nment was  made  the  excuse  for  a  round  of  balls  and \nentertainments  that  Samuel  Adams  thought  in- \nconsistent with  the  sober  republican  principles  in \nwhich  it  was  founded.  \"  Why,\"  he  wrote  to  a  friend, \n\"  should  this  new  era  be  introduced  with  entertain- \nments expensive  and  tending  to  dissipate  the  minds \nof  the  people?  Does  it  become  us  to  lead  the  peo- \nple to  such  public  diversions  as  promote  superfluity \nof  dress  and  ornament,  when  it  is  as  much  as  they \ncan  bear  to  support  the  expense  of  clothing  the \nnaked  army  ?  Will  vanity  and  levity  ever  be  the \nstability  of  government,  either  in  state  or  in  cities, \n\n*  This  constitution,  which  was  largely  moulded  by  Adams,  was  read \nby  him  to  the  people  assembled  in  Faneuil  Hall,  May  3,  1780. \n\n\n392      INDEPENDENCE  DECLARED  AND   WON. \n\nor,  what,  let  me  hint  to  you,  is  of  the  last  importance, \nin  families  ?  \"  Adams  struck  not  only  at  the  abuse, \nbut  at  his  former  friend  when  he  thus  wrote,  for  it \nwas  the  influence  of  Hancock  that  led  to  these  elit- \ntering  assemblages  which  the  patriots  thought  in- \nconsistent with  former  professions,  as  well  as  with \nthe  true  spirit  of  republicanism.  There  were  meetings \nin  Faneuil  Hall  to  protest  against  extravagance  ;  but \nthough  Samuel  Adams  presided,  the  meetings  were \nnot  like  those  of  a  few  years  before. \n\n\"  The  voice  that  once  made  George  the  Third \nthrough  fear  turn  cold,\"  was  listened  to,  but  the \nmen  upon  whom  it  spent  itself  were  not  those  of  other \ndays  and  the  effect  was  small.     Adams  wrote: \n\n\"  It  was  asked  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  of \nEngland,  How  shall  we  turn  the  minds  of  the  people \nfrom  an  attention  to  their  liberties  ?  The  answer  was. \nBy  making  them  extravagant,  luxurious,  and  effeminate, \nHutchinson  advised  the  abridgement  of  what  are  called \nEnglish  liberties  by  the  same  means.  We  shall  never \nsubdue  them,  said  Bernard,  but  by  eradicating  their  man- \nners and  the  principles  of  their  education.  .  .  .  Pow- \nnall,  who  was,  indeed,  a  mere  fribble,  ventured  to  have \nhis  riots  and  his  routs  at  his  own  house  to  please  a  few \nboys  and  girls.  Sober  people  were  disgusted  at  it,  and  his \nprivy-councillors  never  thought  it  prudent  to  venture  so \nfar  as  expensive  balls.  Our  Bradfords,  Winslows  and \nWinthrops  would  have  revolted  at  the  idea  of  opening \nscenes  of  dissipation  and  folly,  knowing  them  to  be \ninconsistent  with  their  great  design  in  transplanting \nthemselves  into  what  they  called  this  '  outside  of  the \nworld.'  \" \n\n\nPREACHING  ECONOMY.  393 \n\nThese  were  by  no  means  mere  words  with  Adams. \nWhile  he  had  been  away  from  Boston  his  wife  had \nsupported  his  family  by  the  labor  of  her  own  hands, \nand  when  he  was  at  home  he  did  not  suffer  a  com- \nplaint to  escape  him  on  account  of  the  hardness  of \nhis  lot.  He  gave  up  his  all  for  his  country,  and \nuttered  no  murmur.  He  proved  the  honesty  of  his \nwords  by  his  works. \n\nJohn  Adams  also  preached  and  practised  economy \nand  modesty  in  personal  and  public  expenses.  In \n1778  he  wrote  to  his  wife  from  Passy,  where  he  was \nin  the  capacity  of  commissioner  at  the  French  court  : \n\n\"  My  dear  countrymen  !  how  shall  I  pursuade  you  to \navoid  the  plague  of  Europe  !  Luxury  has  as  many  and  as \nbewitching  charms  on  your  side  of  the  ocean  as  on  this  ; \nand  luxury,  wherever  she  goes,  effaces  from  human  nature \nthe  image  of  the  divinity.  If  I  had  power  I  should  for- \never banish  and  exclude  from  America  all  gold,  silver, \nprecious  stones,  alabaster,  marble,  silk,  velvet,  and  lace. \n'  Oh,  the  tyrant  !  '  the  American  ladies  would  say. \nWhat  !  Aye,  my  dear  girls,  these  passions  of  yours \nwhich  are  so  easily  alarmed,  and  others  of  my  own  sex \nwhich  are  exactly  like  them,  have  done  and  will  do  the \nwork  of  tyrants  in  all  ages.  Tyrants  different  from  me, \nwhose  power  has  banished,  not  gold,  indeed,  but  other \nthings  of  greater  value  :  wisdom,  virtue,  and  liberty.\" \n\nJohn  Adams  exemplified  his  personal  modesty  in \nthe  response  that  he  made  when  some  one  in  France \na.sked  him  if  he  were  the  \"  famous  Adams.\"  He \nreplied  that  he  was  only  the  cousin  of  that  distin- \nguished person.  Certainly,  however,  he  was  a \nfamous  Adams. \n\n\n394      INDEPENDENCE  DECLARED  AND   WON. \n\nWhile  John  Adams  was  in  France  trying  to \nstrengthen  the  ties  that  bound  the  two  nations,  he \nwas  cautious  enough  to  see  that  the  connexion \nmight  be  a  dangerous  one,  and  feared  lest  French \ncounsels  should  have  too  great  weight  in  American \naffairs.  The  alliance  that  he  saw  was  of  greatest \nmoment  to  the  united  colonies  was  threatened  with \nrupture  after  the  attack  on  Newport,  in  1778,  then, \nand  for  two  years  previously,  in  the  hands  of  the \nBritish.  General  Sullivan  attributed  the  failure  of \nthat  expedition  to  the  action  of  the  French  fleet \nunder  d'Estaing,  and  there  were  many  ready  to \nreanimate  the  ancient  animosity  of  the  times  of  the \nFrench  and  Indian  wars ;  the  tories,  too,  were  on \nhand  to  fan  the  flame  which  they  saw  would  tend  to \nweaken  the  French  alliance.  There  was  a  serious \nriot  in  Boston  caused  by  these  ill  feelings  between \nthe  French  and  American  seamen,  Samuel  Adams \nand  Washington  endeavored  to  promote  harmony, \nand  Hancock  gave  the  ofUcers  lavish  entertainment \nin  his  great  mansion,  where  thirty  or  more  were \ndined  daily,  with  a  profuse  exhibition  of  the  plate \nand  livery  that  both  the  Adamses  abhorred.  Han- \ncock gave  them  also  a  great  ball  at  Concert  Hall,  on \nthe  corner  of  Court  (then  Queen  Street)  and  Han- \nover streets  (October  29th).  This  hall  was  many \nyears  after  still  the  most  elegant  place  of  the  kind \nin  town,  and  had  then  long  been  the  principal  head- \nquarters of  the  friends  of  liberty.  Mrs.  Adams \nreported  to  her  husband,  then  in  France,  that  she \nsaw  much  of  the  officers  of  the  French  fleet,  that \nd'Estaing  had  been  very  polite  to  her,  and  that  she \n\n\nFRENCH  TEMPERANCE  AND  POLITENESS.     395 \n\nhad  dined  on  the  vessels,  being  on  one  occasion \n\"  sumptuously  entertained  with  every  delicacy  that \nthis  country  produces,  and  the  addition  of  every \nforeign  article  that  could  render  our  feast  splendid. \nMusic  and  dancing  for  the  young  folks  closed  the \nday.  The  temperance  of  these  gentlemen,\"  she \ncontinued,  ''  the  peaceable,  quiet  disposition,  both \nof  ofificers  and  men,  joined  to  many  other  virtues \nwhich  they  have  exhibited  during  their  continuance \nwith  us,  are  sufficient  to  make  Europeans,  and \nAmericans,  too,  blush  at  their  own  degeneracy  of \nmanners.  Not  one  officer  has  been  seen  the  least \ndisguised  with  liquor  since  their  arrival.  Most  that \nI  have  seen  appear  to  have  been  gentlemen  of \nfamily  and  education.  I  have  been  the  more  desir- \nous to  take  notice  of  them,  as  I  cannot  help  saying \nthat  they  have  been  neglected  in  the  town  of  Boston. \nGenerals  Heath  and  Hancock  have  done  their  part, \nbut  very  few,  if  any,  private  families  have  any \nacquaintance  with  them.\"  Mrs.  Adams  anticipated \nthe  wishes  of  her  husband,  who  was  anxious  lest  the \naffair  at  Newport  should  produce  heartburnings,  as \nhe  wrote  to  her  when  the  news  reached  him  in \nNovember. \n\nThe  victory  of  October,  1 781,  at  Yorktown  caused \ngreat  joy  in  Boston,  intensified  by  the  depression  of \nthe  previous  months,  and  when,  in  the  autumn  of \nof  1782,  the  French  army  was  in  Boston,  which  had \nmarched  from  the  Hudson  to  set  sail  for  the  West \nIndies,  her  citizens,  in  town-meeting,  under  the \nfamiliar  lead  of  Samuel  Adams,  finally  expressed  the \nsense  of  gratitude  and  obligation  that  was  felt  by \nall  true  Americans  for  their  assistance  in  the  war. \n\n\nXXVII. \n\n\nTHE   OLD    ORDER   CHANGETH. \n\n\nWhen  peace  came  to  the  country,  Boston  town \nentered  upon  a  new  stage  of  existence.  A  new  aris- \ntocracy took  the  lead  in  its  affairs  ;  the  men  of \nwealth  and  station  who  had  formed  the  court  of  the \nroyal  governors — who  had  succeeded  to  the  places \nonce  filled  by  Winthrop  and  those  who  followed \nhim — were  gone,  and  their  estates  were  confiscated. \nIn  their  stead  there  stood  forward  men  who  had \nmade  solid,  but  sudden,  fortunes  during  the  war.  It \nwas  of  some  of  these  that  Samuel  Curwen,  the  royal- \nist refugee,  wrote  to  William  Brown,  also  a  refugee \nfrom  Salem,  afterwards  governor  of  Bermuda : \n\n\"  It  is  a  melancholy  truth  that  whilst  some  are  wallow- \ning in  undeserved  wealth  that  plunder  and  rapine  have \nthrown  into  their  hands,  the  wisest,  most  peaceable  and \nmost  deserving,  such  as  you  and  I  know,  are  now  suffer- \ning want,  accompanied  by  indignities  that  a  licentious, \nlawless  people  can  pour  forth  upon  them.  Those  who \nfive  years  ago  [that  is,  before  the  war]  were  the  '  meaner \npeople,\"  are  now,  by  a  strange  revolution,  become  almost \nthe  only  men  of  power,  riches,  and  influence  ;  those  who, \non  the  contrary,  w-ere  leaders  and  in  the  highest  line  of \nlife,  are  glad  by  this  time  to  be  unknown  and  unnoticed, \n\n396 \n\n\nNEW  PEOPLE    COME   FORWARD.  397 \n\nto  escape  insult  and  plunder— the  wretched  condition  of \nall  who  are  not  violent,  and  adopters  of  Republican  prin- \nciples.\"* \n\nThere  had,  indeed,  been  a  \"  revolution  \"  in  politics, \ncommerce,  and  social  life.  Old  Boston  was  never  to \nbe  what  it  had  been,  though  the  seeds  sown  through \nthe  years  that  had  elapsed  since  the  first  step  was \ntaken  by  Winthrop  and  his  fellows  in  England  were \nto  bear  much  fruit,  and  it  remains  for  us  to  ask  what \nthat  fruit  was.  The  war  had  changed  every  thing ;  not \nonly  were  the  most  forward  people  \"  new,\"  but  the \nvery  streets  themselves  began  to  change,  and  those \nregions  that  before  the  war  had  been  frequented  by \nthe  fashion  and  wealth  of  the  day,  were  by  degrees \ndeserted,  and  the  move  toward  the  south  and  west \nends  began.  The  North  End,  especially,  lost  by  de- \ngrees its  precedence,  and  in  process  of  time  was \nalmost  completely  abandoned  by  those  families \nwhich  had  given  it  its  character.f     The  population \n\n*  \"  The  yournal  and  Letters  of  Samuel  Curwen,\"  page  256. \n\nf  Boston  was  divided  into  three  natural  parts.  The  \"  North  End,\" \ncontaining  about  seven  hundred  dwelling-houses  and  tenements,  and \nsix  meeting-houses,  which  was  the  court  end  before  the  Revolution, \nextending  only  to  Blackstone  Street.  The  \"West  End,\"  or  \"  New \nBoston,\"  comprised  less  than  two  liundred  dwellings  and  tenements, \nand  one  meeting-house.  It  was  somewhat  sheltered  from  the  east \nwinds,  and  was  very  pleasant.  The  largest  territorial  division  was \nthe  \"  South  End,\"  practically  ending  at  Dover  Street,  which  included \nall  the  regions  south  of  Iilackstone  Street  and  east  of  the  present  Tre- \nmont  Street.  In  this  part  of  town  were  all  of  the  public  buildings \n(except  the  powder-house),  and  there  were  ten  meeting-houses  and \nmore  than  twelve  hundred  dwellings,  some  of  them  elegant.  It  was \nthe  seat  of  business,  and  contained  the  principal  shops  and  ware- \nhouses. Shurtleff's  \"Topographical  and  Historical  Description  of \nBoston,\"  page  138. \n\n\n398  THE   OLD   ORDER   CHANGETH, \n\nwas  much  less  at  the  end  of  the  war  than  it  had \nbeen  at  the  opening  of  hostilities,  and  New  York  and \nPhiladelphia  then  took  the  lead  that  they  have  kept. \nIt  was  ten  years  before  Boston  regained  its  former \nnumerical  strength. \n\nCommerce  and  manufactures  had  suffered,  and, \nlike  the  confederacy,  the  town  and  the  state  were \nunable  to  pay  their  debts.  It  was  the  first  duty  of \nthe  townspeople  to  make  efforts  to  retrieve  their \nfinancial  losses.  Though,  as  has  been  said,  \"  the \ngreat  industries  which  have  built  up  the  Massachu- \nsetts of  our  time,  in  a  material  sense,  were  estab- \nlished on  quite  a  secure  footing  \"  during  the  first \ngeneration  of  the  history  of  Boston,  yet  shipbuild- \ning, fishing  and  navigation  were  the  most  prominent \noccupations  before  the  Revolution,  while  rum  was \nthe  chief  manufacture.*  In  a  statement  of  the  com- \nmercial condition  of  Massachusetts,  made  in  1750, \nthe  importance  of  the  manufacture  of  rum  was  dis- \ntinctly shown. f  The  course  of  trade  was  exhibited \nthus  : \n\n\"  A  great  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  Massachusetts  Bay \nlive  chiefly  by  the  sea,  and  are  employed  in  fisheries, \nnavigation,  and  building  and  providing  materials  for \nships.  They  depend  on  Great  Britain  for  clothes,  ma- \nterials for  furnishing  their  houses,  cordage  and  sail-cloth \nfor  equipment  of  their  vessels,  their  lines,  hooks  and \ncables  for  the  fishery.  They  are  dependent  on  the \nnorthern  colonies  for  bread  corn.     Rum  is  their  chief \n\n*  Winsor's  \"  Memorial  History  of  Boston,\"  vol.  iv..  page  69. \nfMinot's  continuation  of  Thomas  Hutchinson's   \"History  of  the \nProvince  of  Massachusetts  Bay,\"  vol.  i.,  page  155. \n\n\nRUM  EXCHANGED  FOR   SLAVES.  399 \n\nmanufacture,  there  being  upwards  of  fifteen  thousand \nhogsheads  of  rum  manufactured  in  the  province  annu- \nally. This,  with  what  they  get  from  the  English  islands, \nis  the  grand  support  of  all  their  trades  and  fishery, \nand  without  it  they  can  no  longer  subsist.  Rum  is  a \nstanding  article  in  the  Indian  trade  and  the  common \ndrink  of  all  the  laborers,  timber-men,  mast-men,  loggers \nand  fishermen  in  the  province.  These  men  could  not \nendure  the  hardships  of  their  employments  nor  the  rigor \nof  the  seasons  without  it.  .  .  .  The  rum  carried \nfrom  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  other  northern  colonies,  to \nthe  coast  of  Guinea,  is  exchanged  for  gold  and  slaves. \nThe  gold  is  sent  to  London  to  help  pay  for  their  annual \nsupplies,  and  the  slaves  are  carried  to  the  English  sugar \ncolonies,  and  exchanged  for  their  commodities.\" \n\nThis  extract  illustrates  the  character  of  the  com- \nmercial activity  of  the  Bostonians,  as  well  as  the \nfreedom  with  which  they  used  a  particular  creature \ncomfort,  and  the  dependence  of  the  people  upon  the \nmother-country  for  most  of  their  manufactured  arti- \ncles. When  the  Revolution  began,  Boston  families \nexpected  that  the  household  loom  would  give  them \nmost  of  their  textile  fabrics,  and  it  was  the  good \npleasure  of  England  that  no  provision  more  system- \natic and  extensive  should  be  introduced,  for  it  would \ndeprive  her  of  a  market  for  her  goods  if  America \nshould  supply  herself.  Of  what  good,  indeed,  were \ncolonies,  if  they  did  not  stimulate  the  industry  and \ncommerce  of  the  land  from  which  their  settlers  went \nforth  ?  Such  was  the  narrow  policy  accepted  gen- \nerally in  Europe,  and  England  was  only  following \nthe  fashion  in  endeavoring  to  restrict  the  Americans. \n\n\n400  THE    OLD    ORDER    CHANGE TH. \n\nDuring  the  war,  not  only  political  but  also  indus- \ntrial independence  had  been  aimed  at,  and  manu- \nfactures were  encouraged  so  effectually  that  when \nthe  struggle  ended  there  was  apparent  prosperity  in \nbusiness  circles.  Many  fortunes  had  been  accumu- \nlated, also,  in  the  dangerous  pursuits  of  the  priva- \nteersman,  and  as  commerce  increased  after  the  peace, \nan  era  of  extravagance  opened,  and  luxuries  and \ncomforts  previously  unknown  were  found  in  Boston \nhomes.  Still,  in  the  average  household  the  comforts \nwere  few,  if  compared  with  the  condition  of  affairs \nin  our  day.  The  house  was  perhaps  unpainted  ;  sand \nwas  still  strewed  over  the  floors  instead  of  carpets ; \ngreat  caverns  yawned  at  the  chimney  side,  and  poured \nforth  apparently  but  one  half  of  the  heat  of  the  burn- \ning logs,  and  more  than  that  proportion  of  the  blind- \ning smoke.  Electricity,  gas,  and  even  kerosene  oil, \nfor  purposes  of  lighting,  were  not  dreamed  of,  and \ndimly  burning  whale  oil  made  the  darkness  visible \nand  the  atmosphere  detestable.  Dress  was  thor- \noughly studied,  both  in  regard  to  fashion  and  cost, \nand  carefully  preserved,  so  that  many  a  fair  bride's \nwedding  gown  has  been  carried  down  to  a  generation \nwhich  will  never  preserve  its  own  less  costly  gar- \nments for  a  granddaughter  or  great-granddaughter. \nThe  burden  of  debt  left  by  war  to  which  reference \nhas  been  made,  was  so  great  that  commerce  soon \nbegan  to  feel  its  influence.  This,  united  with  the  ex- \ntravagance of  the  times,  brought  many  debtors  into \nthe  hands  of  the  law,  and  very  soon  dissatisfied \nmen,  especially  in  the  western  part  of  Massachusetts, \nbegan  to  inveigh  against  the  courts  as  \"  engines  of \n\n\nz \n\no \nS \ns \n\no \n\n\no \na\" \n\nO \n\n\n73 \n'J \n\nD \n\n\n2 \n\nX \n\n\n402  THE    OLD   ORDER   CHANGETH. \n\ndestruction,\"  and  in  a  few  years  the  outburst  known \nas  the  \"  Shay's  Rebellion  \"  disturbed  the  common- \nwealth. Demagogues  and  tories  were  interested \nthus  to  break  the  public  peace  in  the  hopes  of \nmaking  some  nefarious  gain. \n\nIt  is  evident  that  quite  different  public  men  were \nneeded  for  these  times  of  building  up  a  common- \nwealth from  those  who  fought  the  battle  of  freedom \nand  won  the  prize  independence.  Samuel  Adams \nshowed  himself  unadapted  to  the  times.  He  was  not \nat  home  in  the  extravagant  routs  and  balls  and  glit- \ntering assemblies  that  are  noted  in  the  histor}-  of  the \nperiod,  though  doubtless  they  were  innocent  and \neven  tame  in  comparison  with  similar  dissipations  at \nthe  present  day.  He  came  into  conflict  with  his \nancient  ally,  Hancock,  in  this  matter,  for  Hancock \nwas,  as  we  know,  of  an  ostentatious  and  profuse  hos- \npitality, and  went  to  extremes  in  his  efforts  to  sur- \nround himself  as  governor  with  consequence  and \ndignity.  Mr.  Hancock  carried  his  notions  of  official \ndignity  too  far  at  times.  In  the  autumn  of  1789,  the \nyear  after  the  adoption  of  the  federal  constitution, \nWashington  visited  Boston,  and  was  received  with \nevery  token  of  reverential  delight.  In  Cambridge, \nwhere  he  stopped  an  hour  to  look  at  his  former \nheadquarters,  a  thousand  militia-men  in  line  formal- \nly saluted  him,  and  a  long  procession  escorted  him \nto  the  State  House,  where  an  ode  in  his  honor  was \nsung  by  a' choir  in  a  triumphal  arch  near  by.  Han- \ncock, who  was  then  governor,  chose  to  expect  the \npresident  to  call  and  pay  his  respects  to  the  chief \nmagistrate  of  the  commonwealth,  but  as  Washing- \n\n\nADAMS  LOSES  PRESTIGE.  403 \n\nton  did  not  agree  with  him,  Hancock  called  in  his \nold  friend  the  gout,  and,  making  that  an  excuse  for \nmore  prompt  action,  appeared  at  the  president's \nquarters  swathed  in  flannel  and  carried  on  the  shoul- \nders of  attendants.  State  sovereignty  bowed  to  fed- \neral supremacy,  and  all  went  well ! \n\nAdams  was  firmly  opposed  to  any  treaty  of  peace \nwith  England  unless  the  full  rights  of  the  Americans \nin  the  Newfoundland  fisheries  were  restored  and  con- \nfirmed, for  their  value  to  Boston  trade  was  esteemed \nthen  even  more  than  in  after-times.  Under  his  influ- \nence the  reigning  toast  in  the  East  was,  according  to \nMarbois  the  French  agent,  \"  No  peace  without  the \nfisheries.\"  Adams  also  resisted  all  measures  designed \nto  reinstate  the  tories  in  their  previous  position  of \nrespect  or  even  toleration.  He  considered  them  trait- \nors to  the  American  cause,  and  not  entitled  to  any \nmercy.  Though  much  in  public  life,  though  three \ntimes  chosen  governor  of  the  state,  and  always  pos- \nsessed of  great  influence,  he  did  not  move  the  people \nas  in  former  times.  When  the  question  of  adopting \nthe  constitution  of  the  nation  came  up  in  1788,  he  was \nfearful  lest  the  people  were  founding  a  federal  union \nwhich  would  swiftly  and  imperceptibly  run  into  a \nconsolidated  government,  pervading  and  legislating \nthrough  all  the  states ;  not  for  federal  purposes \nonly,  as  it  professed,  but  in  all  cases  whatsoever. \nSuch  a  government,  he  thought,  would  soon  totally \nannihilate  the  sovereignty  of  the  several  states,  so \nnecessary  to  the  support  of  the  confederated  com- \nmonwealth, and  sink  both  in  despotism.*    While  op- \n\n*  See  letter  to  Richard  Henry  Lee,  quoted  in  Wells's  \"Life,\"  v.'l. \niii.,  page  273. \n\n\n404  THE    OLD    ORDER    CHANG ETH. \n\nposing  the  hasty  rejection  of  the  constitution,  Adams \nurged  the  adoption  of  an  amendment  which  should \ngive  security  on  this  point. \n\nThe  struggle  that  preceded  the  adoption  of  the \nconstitution  in  1788  was  long  and  active,  and  di- \nvided the  people  of  Boston  into  two  parties,  that \nbecame  well  defined.  The  opponents  of  a  strong \ncentral  government,  who  had  sympathized  with \nthe  Shays'  rebellion,  took  sides  against  it;  but \nthe  conservatives,  now  called  Federalists,  firmly \nsupported  the  constitution,  and  labored  for  a  strong \nrepublican  government  which  could  make  itself \nrespected  at  home  and  abroad.  Hancock  was  brought \nover  to  this  side,  as  has  already  been  stated,*  and,  by \nmeans  of  a  meeting  of  the  mechanics  at  the  Green \nDragon  tavern,  under  the  lead  of  Paul  Revere, \nAdams  was  influenced  to  give  it  his  still  influential \nhelp.  The  Federalists  won  the  day,  having  a  major- \nity of  nineteen  votes,  and  the  decision  was  solemnly \ndeclared  in  the  church  on  Long  Lane,  where  the \nsessions  had  been  held.  The  church  and  street  were \nthenceforward  known  by  the  name  Federal  Street. \nThere  was  great  joy  on  this  occasion  ;  the  citizens \nwent  in  procession  to  the  houses  of  the  representa- \ntives of  the  town  who  had  sat  in  the  convention,  and \nsaluted  them  ;  there  were  appropriate  badges  on  the \nrejoicing  citizens,  and  there  were  salutes  from  can- \nnon, and  finally  a  dinner  in  Faneuil  Hall.  In  1797 \nMr.  Adams  finally  retired  from  political  life,  his  last \npublic  paper  being  a  proclamation  for  the  annual \nFast  Day.     The  Father  of  the  American  Revolution \n\n*  See  page  350. \n\n\nFEARS   OF  FEUDALISM.  405 \n\nlived   until   Sunday  morning,  October  2,  1803,  when \nhis  long  and  useful  life  came  to  an  end. \n\nDuring  the  last  years  of  the  life  of  Mr.  Adams, \nslavery,  though  never  formally  abolished,  came  to \nan  end  in  the  state,  and  in  1783  it  was  declared  from \nthe  bench  that  it  no  longer  existed.  Previous  to \nthat  date  the  newspapers  familiarized  the  minds  of \nthe  people  with  the  good  points  of  \"  prime  young \nslaves  from  the  Windward  Coast,\"  or  the  bad  traits \nof  \"a  pock-broken  fellow,  a  scar  on  one  of  his  shins,\" \nwho  had  \"  lost  one  of  his  fore  teeth,  and  pretended \nto  be  a  doctor,\"  a  fugitive  from  a  perhaps  not  too \nindulgent  master.  \"  A  likely  hearty  male  negro \nchild  \"  is  offered  to  be  given  away,  or  a  likely  negro \nwoman  \"  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,\"  recom- \nmended for  her  honesty,  is  offered  for  sale  cheap  for \ncash.     After  1783  such  things  ceased  to  be. \n\nThe  next  year  Boston  was  stirred,  or  rather  many \npatriots  were  stirred,  with  apprehensions  lest  the \nnewly  formed  society  of  the  Cincinnati  should  give \nbirth  to  an  aristocracy,  should  become  joint  pro- \nprietors of  vast  tracts  of  land,  people  their  territories \nwith  multitudes  from  Germany,  oblige  them  to  live \nin  feudal  servitude,  and  thus  raise  up  something  like \nthe  mediaeval  system,  dangerous  to  the  state.  Such \nfears  seem  absurd  to  us  now,  when  the  government \nhas  proved  its  strength  for  a  hundred  years,  but  at \nthat  time,  when  the  very  existence  of  the  Union  was \nnew  and  experimental,  it  is  not  strange  that  those \nwho,  like  Adams,  had  struggled  for  independence, \ntrembled  at  the  thought  of  any  risk. \n\nBefore    the    tumults    of    war    had    yet    left    the \n\n\n4o6  THE    OLD    ORDER    CHANGETH. \n\ncitizens  of  Boston  to  the  quiet  necessary  for  the \nconquests  of  peace,  some  of  them  began  to  look \ntowards  the  Great  West,  and  to  ask  themselves \nwhat  might  be  done  to  extend  to  those  little-known \nregions  the  benefits  that  the  war  had  been  fought  to \nobtain.  It  was  a  natural  fruit  of  the  education \nthrough  which  the  town  had  passed  under  the \nguidance  of  such  men  as  Adams,  and  it  became  a \nmarked  trait  in  the  character  of  the  Bostonians. \nThey  never  ceased  to  endeavor  to  influence  the \nother  portions  of  the  land  in  the  direction  of  right, \nas  they  conceived  it. \n\nIt  was  on  the  first  day  of  March  that  a  seed  was \ndropped  in  the  familiar  \"  Bunch  of  Grapes  \"  tavern, \nwhich  bore  fruit  in  the  \"  Northwestern  Territory,\" \nand  gave  their  permanent  character  to  the  states \nwhich  were  formed  in  that  region.  Soon  after  peace \nGeneral  Rufus  Putnam,  an  officer  of  the  Massa- \nchusetts line,  the  same  one  who  had  furnished  the \nsuccessful  plan  for  the  fortifications  on  Dorchester \nHeights,  in  company  with  two  hundred  and  eighty- \ntwo  other  officers,  petitioned  Congress  for  a  grant \nof  lands  in  this  region,  and  Putnam  himself  wrote \nan  elaborate  letter  to  Washington  requesting  his \ninfluence  in  its  favor.  In  this  letter  the  veteran \nofficer,  who  had  practical  knowledge  of  the  work  of \na  surveyor,  suggested  the  plan  for  the  districting  of \nthe  region,  and  he  also  urged  the  setting  apart  of  a \nportion  of  each  township  for  the  support  of  schools \nand  the  ministry,  a  plan  which  was  adopted  and  has \never  since  been  followed.  Putnam  rightly  thought \nthat  it  was  \"  of  great  consequence  to  the  American \n\n\nTHE    OHIO    SETTLEMENT.  407 \n\nempire,\"  that  the  vast  region  south  of  the  lakes \nshould  be  filled  with  inhabitants  who  should  be \nloyal  subjects  of  the  United  States,  and  \"  banish \nforever  the  idea  of  our  western  territory  falling \nunder  the  dominion  of  any  European  power,\"  as \nwell  as  that  the  eastern  States  should  thus  be \n\"  effectually  secured  from  savage  alarms.\"  He  wrote \nto  Washington  again,  in  1784,  that  the  settlement \nof  the  Ohio  country  engrossed  his  thoughts  and \nmuch  of  his  time,  and  that  he  believed  that  there \nwere  thousands  who  would  remove  thither  as  soon \nas  Congress  should  open  the  way.  Little  did  he \ndream  of  the  great  immigrations  of  subsequent \nyears.  In  June,  1785,  Putnam  received  in  Boston \nnotice  that  Congress  had  appointed  him  one  of  the \nsurveyors  of  the  Ohio  lands,  but  being  at  the  time \notherwise  occupied,  he  urged  the  substitution  of \nGeneral  Benjamin  Tupper,  another  Massachusetts \nsoldier,  and  that  gentleman  went  to  the  Ohio \ncountry.  Tupper  returned  with  testimony  that  in- \ncreased Putnam's  interest  in  the  proposed  coloniza- \ntion scheme.  The  two  Massachusetts  generals \ntherefore  proposed  an  association  for  the  purpose  of \nbuying  lands  of  the  government,  and  once,  on  the \nninth  of  January,  they  spent  almost  the  whole  of \nthe  night  in  conference  on  the  momentous  subject. \nThe  result  was  that  the  next  morning  they  com- \nposed a  circular  proposing  a  convention  for  the \npurpose  of  perfecting  an  association  uniting  the \nofficers  and  soldiers  who  had  served  in  the  war,  as \nwell  as  \"  all  other  good  citizens  who  wish  to  be- \ncome adventurers  in  that  delightful  region.\"    So  slow \n\n\n408  THE    OLD    ORDER    CHANGE TH. \n\nwere  the  methods  of  pubHcation  at  the  time  that  it \nwas  not  until  the  twenty-fifth  of  January,  1786,  that \nthe  persons  appealed  to  read  in  the  public  prints \nunder  the  head,  \"  INFORMATION,\"  the  call  that  was \nput  forth  by  the  two  generals.  The  meeting  was \nheld  at  the  \"  Bunch  of  Grapes,\"  as  we  have  said,  and \nan  association  formed.  It  included  Manasseh  Cut- \nler, who  carried  the  negotiation  with  Congress  to  a \nsuccessful  termination,  and  Winthrop  Sargent,  who \nbecame  secretary,  and  rendered  important  assistance. \nOther  meetings  were  held  at  Bracket's  tavern, \notherwise  known  as  \"Cromwell's  Head,\"  on  Latin- \nschool  Street,  but  with  them  we  cannot  meddle.  It \nis  sufificient  to  record  the  impulse  that  Boston  gave \nto  western  immigration  at  the  important  moment \nwhen  its  character  was  to  be  formed.  It  was  cer- \ntainly a  Boston  notion,  that  of  setting  off  two  full \ntownships  for  a  university,  and  two  particular  sec- \ntions of  a  mile  square  in  every  township  for  the \nsupport  of  schools  and  religion.* \n\nThough  all  New  England  was  interested  in  the \nscheme  for  the  settlement  of  the  Ohio  region,  and \nthough  many  Boston  men  were  specially  attracted \nto  it,  it  was  but  one  among  many  movements  for \nthe  increase  of  the  influence  and  wealth  of  the  town \nwhich  had  their  birth  in  the  years  following  the  close \nof  the  war.  Probably  the  building  of  the  bridge  to \nCharlestown  is  as  good  an  indication  as  any  of  the \nprogress  in  material  resources,  for  it  was  the  greatest \nundertaking  of  the  kind  that  had  ever  been  pro- \njected in  America.     There  was  still  but  one  mode \n\n*  In  order  that  there  might  be  no  doubt  about  this  latter  provision \nthe  sections  numbered  sixteen  and  twenty-nine  were  specified. \n\n\nA    NEW  BRIDGE.  4O9 \n\nof  access  to  Boston — the  Neck.  The  new  bridge  was \nfifteen  hundred  and  three  feet  long  and  forty-three \nfeet  wide,  and  it  was  formally  opened  on  the  anni- \nversary of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  in  1786.  There \nwere  military  salutes  at  sunrise,  and  peals  from \nthe  bells  of  the  church  which  served  as  a  beacon \nwhen  Paul  Revere  wished  to  warn  the  people  of \nCharlestown  that  the  British  were  leaving  Boston  for \nLexington  by  water,  A  procession  consisting  \"  of \nalmost  every  respectable  character  in  public  and \nprivate  life  \"  moved  from  State  Street  in  the  after- \nnoon, and,  amid  salutes  from  the  Castle  and  from \ncannon  on  Breed's  Hill  aiid  Copp's  Hill,  and  honors \nfrom  the  companies  of  artillery  and  artificers, \nmarched  over  the  new  structure  to  the  site  of  the \nbattle,  where  tables  were  spread,  and  the  remainder \nof  the  day  was  spent  in  \"  sober  festivity,\"  as  the \nhistorian  Snow  observes.  This  was  the  beginning \nof  the  work  of  connecting  the  promontory  with  the \nmainland  by  means  of  bridges,  the  latest  of  which, \nthe  Harvard  Bridge,  to  be  completed  during  the \npresent  year,  is  by  far  the  finest  of  all.  Cambridge \nwas  next  thus  brought  into  communication  with \nBoston  by  the  West  Boston  Bridge,  completed  in \n1793.  The  bridge  to  Dorchester  Neck,  a  tract \nwhich  was  at  the  time  \"  annexed  \"  to  Boston  and \ncalled  South  Boston,  was  completed  in  1805.  Four \nyears  later,  on  Commencement  Day,  1809,  the \nCraigie  Bridge  to  East  Cambridge  was  opened  to  the \npublic,  and  there  were  then  five  avenues  into  the \ncity.*     \"All  these  bridges,\"  says   Snow,    \"are  well \n\n*  At  the  present  time  the  waters  about   Boston   are  crowded  with \nbridges,  and  they  are  a  considerable  obstruction  to  vessels. \n\n\n4IO  THE    OLD    ORDER    CHANGETH. \n\nlighted  by  lamps  when  the  evenings  are  dark,  and \nthe  lights,  placed  at  regular  distances,  have  a  splen- \ndid and  romantic  appearance.\"  It  is  certainly  true \nthat  the  many  lights  on  the  long  low  bridges  that \nspan  the  waters  around  Boston  still  have  a  very  at- \ntractive appearance,  now  that  they  are  produced  by \ngas  or  electricity. \n\nMore  important  than  any  of  these  bridge  projects \nfor  the  future  of  the  town  was  the  Boston  and  Rox- \nbury  Mill  Corporation,  a  scheme  projected  by  Mr. \nUriah  Cotting,  since  called  the  Chief  Benefactor  of \nBoston.  It  was  a  stupendous  project  for  the  time, \nfor  it  contemplated  the  building  of  a  dam  forty-two \nfeet  wide  with  a  roadway  upon  it  twenty-two  hun- \ndred feet  in  length,  reaching  from  the  foot  of  Beacon \nHill  to  Brookline,  which  was  at  that  time  accessible \nonly  byway  of  Roxbury  over  the  Neck,  This  great \ndam  was  intended  to  confine  the  waters  of  the  Back \nBay  in  such  a  way  that  they  could  be  used  for  mill \npurposes.  The  company  was  chartered  in  1814,  but \nit  was  not  until  1821  that  the  road  was  opened  to \npassengers.  The  enterprise  was  opposed  with  the \nvigor  that  projects  for  the  good  of  a  town  are  pretty \ncertain  to  meet,  one  indignant  citizen  writing  to  the \nAdvertiser,'^  in  the  following  excited  terms : \n\n\"  Citizens  of  Boston  !  Have  you  ever  visited  the \nMall  ;  have  you  ever  inhaled  the  western  breeze,  fra- \ngrant with  perfume,  refreshing  every  sense,  and  invigo- \nrating every  nerve  ?  What  think  you  of  converting  the \nbeautiful  sheet  of  water  which  skirts  the  Common  into \nan  empty  mud-basin,  reeking  with  filth,  abhorrent  to  the \n\n*  Quoted  in  Winsor's  \"  Memorial  History,\"  vol.  iv.,  page  33. \n\n\no \n\n-t- \n\n\ny, \n\no \n\n•J \ny \n\nas \n\n\n■■4 \n\nH \n\n2; \n\n\nsi \n-1 \n\n\nO \n\n\n412  THE   OLD   ORDER   CHANGE  TH. \n\nsmell,  and  distasteful  to  the  eye  ?     By  every  god  of  sea, \nlake,  or  fountain,  it  is  incredible  !  \" \n\nThe  process  of  improving  this  portion  of  Boston \nwas  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  an  agreeable  one,  and \nin  1849  t^^^  Board  of  Health  declared  that  the  region \nhad  become  a  \"  nuisance,  offensive  and  injurious  to \nthe  large  and  increasing  population  residing  upon \nit,\"  for  it  was  then  an  open  cesspool,  receiving  the \nsewage  of  a  large  community.  Then  measures  were \ntaken  in  earnest  to  overcome  the  difficulty. \n\nBefore  the  beginning  of  the  present  century  the \nterritory  of  Boston  remained  of  the  same  form  that \nit  had  in  the  earliest  times.  The  North  End  was \nseparated  from  the  rest  of  the  promontory  by  an \ninlet  which  put  up  from  the  Bay  at  the  present \nBlackstone  Street  and  became  eventually  Mill  Creek, \naffording  vessels  a  passage  through  to  Mill  Cove,  an \nenlargement  of  the  Charles  River,  which  also  was \nchanged  in  time  to  Mill  Pond  by  the  formation  of \na  dam  or  causeway  across  its  mouth.  In  1643  this \ncove  was  granted  to  four  partners  on  condition  that \nthey  would  erect  one  or  more  corn-mills  on  or  near \nthe  premises.  One  hundred  and  sixty-one  years \nafter  this  grant  (in  1804),  the  successors  of  the  men \nto  whom  it  was  made  were  incorporated  as  the \nBoston  Mill  Corporation,  and  they  proceeded  to  fill \nup  the  pond,  obtaining  the  necessary  earth  by  dig- \nging away  Beacon  Hill.  By  this  process  fifty  acres \nwere  added  to  the  area  of  Boston,  and  the  shore \nline  much  altered.  The  railways  running  to  the \nnorthward   all  start    from    stations   erected  on   the \n\n\nDIGGING  DOWN  HILLS. \n\n\n413 \n\n\nland  thus  formed.  At  a  later  period  both  Copp's \nHill  and  Pemberton  Hill  were  made  tributary  to \nthis  filling  in  of  the  Mill  Pond,\"'^  and  the  topography \nof  the  town  was  thus  materially  changed. \n\n*  The  digging  down  of  Copp's  Hill  was  begun  in  1806,  amd  was \ncontinued  for  several  years.  Pemberton  (formerly  Cotton's)  Hill, \nfamed  for  the  elegant  estate  of  Gardiner  Greene,  fell  into  the  hands \nof  others  upon  Mr.  Greene's  death  in  1832,  and  was  laid  out  in  lots \nafter  the  grading  had  been  completed. \n\n\nXXVIII. \n\n\nTHE   TOWN    BECOMES   A   CITY. \n\n\nBoston  was  deeply  interested  in  the  convulsions \nin  Europe  preceding  and  during  the  wars  of  Napo- \nleon, for  in  the  earlier  period  her  merchant  ships \nreaped  a  rich  harvest  in  the  carrying-trade,  and  great \nfortunes  were  built  up  by  the  enterprising  adventur- \ners. This  state  of  affairs  was  not  destined  to  con- \ntinue long,  for  Great  Britain  was  just  as  desirous \nafter  the  peace  as  she  had  been  before  to  cripple  the \ncommercial  progress  of  the  Americans.  In  every \nway  practicable  the  shipping  business  was  hampered \nby  restrictions  laid  upon  it  by  the  British  govern- \nment, for  England  was  determined  not  to  allow  the \ncarrying  trade  to  pass  away  from  her  if  it  could  be \navoided.  Indignation  rose  so  high  in  Boston,  only \nthree  years  after  the  war  had  closed,  that  a  business- \nmen's meeting  was  held  in  Faneuil  Hall  (April  i6, \n1785),  at  which  it  was  voted  not  to  have  any  com- \nmercial relations  with  the  British  mercantile  agents \nin  America,  who  were  receiving  large  consignments \nof  goods,  \"  greatly  to  the  hindrance  of  freight  in  all \nAmerican  vessels.\"  A  call  was  made  upon  all  other \nsea-ports  to  enter  into  similar  agreements,  and  a \nmemorial  to  Congress  was  ordered.     In  the  follow- \n\n414 \n\n\nTHREATS   OF   SECESSION.  415 \n\ning  July  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts  doubled \nthe  duties  on  goods  brought  to  the  ports  of  the \ncommonwealth  in  British  vessels,  and  entirely  pro- \nhibited the  exportation  of  American  products  in \nBritish  ships,  until  the  odious  restrictions  should  be \nremoved.  London  soon  felt  the  pressure,  and  some \nhouses  there  failed  ;  but  the  government  was  not  to \nbe  easily  turned  aside  from  its  plan.  Neither  were \nBoston  merchants  to  be  baffled,  and  they  gave  their \nattention  to  the  Eastern  trade,  sending  many  vessels \nto  China,  and  reaping  large  returns  from  their  in- \ntelligent activity.  The  wars  between  England  and \nFrance  complicated  matters.  American  shipowners \nfound  themselves  suffering  greatly,  and  in  1807,  when \nJefferson  enforced  his  embargo  in  consequence  of \nthe  Milan  Decrees  of  Napoleon  and  the  British \nOrders  in  Council,  the  commerce  of  Boston  was \nalmost  destroyed,  and  the  party  feelings  that  were \nengendered  ran  so  high  that  there  were  threats  of \n\"secession,\"  such  as  had  been  uttered  in  Boston \nwhen  Louisiana  was  bought, — such  as  were  to  be \nheard  from  Josiah  Quincy  in  Congress  apropos  of \nthe  plan  to  form  a  state  west  of  the  Mississippi \nRiver.\"  John  Ouincy  Adams  informed  the  Presi- \ndent that  the  embargo  could  not  be  enforced  in  New \nEngland,  that  the  Federalist  leaders  were  making \narrangements  to  break  off  from  the  Union,  and  had \nreceived  an  offer  of  aid   from  the   English  govern- \n\n*  The  essential  portion  of  the  speech  referred  to  (delivered  in  Janu- \nary, 1811),  maybe  read  in  Edmund  Quincy's  \"  Life  of  Josiah  Quincy,\" \npages  206-213.  This  has  been  pronounced  the  \"  first  announcement  \" \nof  the  doctrine  of  secession  \"  on  the  floor  of  Congress.\" \n\n\n4l6  THE   TOWN  BECOMES  A    CITY. \n\nment.*  Such  representations  as  these  about  his \npolitical  opponents  moved  the  President  and  mem- \nbers of  Congress  on  the  Republican  side,  and  the \nNon-Intercourse  Act  took  the  place  of  the  embargo, \nMarch  4,  1809. \n\nThe  harm  had  been  done,  however,  and  the  ships \nrotted  at  the  Boston  wharves  or  were  taken  from \nservice  and  dismantled  ;  shipyards  were  deserted  ; \nthe  fisheries  were  given  up,  and  even  the  farmer  felt \nthe  pervading  distress  ;  ruin  stared  the  merchant  in \nthe  face,  and  the  laboring  man  knew  not  in  which \ndirection  to  look  for  work.  Meanwhile  the  second \nwar  with  Great  Britain  came  on,  in  opposition  to  the \ninterests  and  desires  of  the  people  of  Boston.f    Then \n\n*  The  correspondence  of  Josiah  Quincy  might  have  afforded  some \nground  for  a  statement  like  this,  for  Mr.  Harrison  Gray  Otis  wrote  to \nhim,  December  15,  180S,  \"  it  would  be  a  great  misfortune  for  us  to \njustify  the  obloquy  of  wishing  to  promote  a  separation  of  the  states \nand  of  being  solitary  in  that  pursuit.\"  At  the  same  time  Mr.  Otis \nsuggested  a  convention  of  delegates  from  the  commercial  states  \"at \nHartford  or  elsewhere,  for  the  purpose  of  providing  some  mode  of \nrelief  that  may  not  be  inconsistent  with  the  Union  of  these  states.\" \nThe  Federalists  did  not  hold  their  convention  at  Hartford  until \nDecember  15,  1814,  just  as  the  war  which  they  had  opposed  was \nclosing.  It  was,  as  President  Woolsey  has  said,  a  scheme  \"  with  an \nugly  look,\"  and  though  it  declared  that  \"no  hostility  to  the  constitu- \ntion \"  was  intended,  its  actions  called  out  the  statement  from  the \nRichmond  Enquirer,  that  \"  no  man,  no  association  of  men,  no  State \nor  set  of  States,  has  a  right  to  withdraw  itself  from  the  Union  of  its \nown  accord,\"  and  it  was  supposed  to  have  uttered  the  principles  of \nnullification  as  clearly  as  South  Carolina  ever  did. \n\nf  Josiah  Quincy,  then  the  leader  in  the  ^Massachusetts  senate, \nshowed  the  feeling  of  Boston  by  drawing  up  an  address,  protesting \nagainst  the  war  as  impolitic  and  unjust,  and  the  action  was  followed \nin  other  states.  We  read  in  Mr.  Quincy's  \"Life,\"  that  the  stagnation \nof  business  carried  distress  and  anxiety  into  every  New  England  house- \n\n\nTHE   GRAND  PEACE  BALL.  417 \n\nthere  was  no  use  for  vessels  except  as  privateers, \ndomestic  produce  rose  greatly  in  value,  and  imported \ngoods  were  held  at  very  high  prices ;  money  was \nscarce,  and  men  were  reduced  to  straits  to  supply \nthe  wants  of  their  households.  Peace  was  declared  in \nFebruary,  181 5,  and  though  it  did  not  in  explicit  terms \nsecure  a  single  one  of  the  objects  for  which  the  war \nhad  been  fought,  it  was  welcomed  with  rejoicings  on \nall  sides.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  war  did \nnot  explicitly  ensure  \"  free  trade  and  sailor's  rights,\" \nas  the  watchword  of  its  supporters  demanded  that \nit  should,  it  was  evident  that  the  naval  supremacy \nof  Great  Britain  had  been  worthily  challenged,  and \nthat  England  could  not  longer  be  said  to  rule  the \nseas,  and  there  was  no  further  impressment  of  sea- \nmen from  American  vessels. \n\nWhen  the  news  of  peace  reached  Boston,  an  extra \nnumber  of  the  Evening  Gazette  was  issued,  giving \nthe  announcement  in  the  barest  terms,  and  on  the \ntwenty-fourth  of  February  there  was  a  grand  ball  in \nthe  concert  hall  on  Hanover  Street,  which  had \nbeen  long  before  a  resort  of  friends  of  liberty.  A \nlady  who  entertained  scruples  about  attending  a \npublic  ball,  fired  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  occasion, \nwent,  and  she  describes  her  costume  in  the  following \nwords :  \"  My  dress  was  a  sheer  dotted  muslin  skirt, \ntrimmed  with  three  rows  of  plaited  white  satin  rib- \nbon an  inch  wide.  The  boddice  of  white  satin  was \nalso  trimmed  with  the  same  ribbon.     I  wore  white \n\nhold,  and  the  ruin  of  the  commercial  states  seemed  to  be  settled. \nThe  Massachusetts  legislature  refused  to  furnish  troops  at  the  call  of \nthe  President. \n\n\n41 8  THE  TOWN  BECOMES  A    CITY. \n\nlace  around  the  neck,  a  bouquet,  gold  ornaments, \nchain,  etc.  My  hair  was  arranged  in  braids,  bandeau, \nand  curls.  The  building,\"  continues  the  same  lady, \n\"was  illuminated  within  and  without,  and  was \ndecorated  with  flags  and  flowers.\"  The  few  British \nofficers  who  were  present  seem  to  have  been  the \nfavorites  with  the  ladies.  The  floor  was  arranged  for \ndancing,  and  had  a  springing  motion,  which  our  lady \ninformant  declares  she  \"  never  saw  equalled.\"  So \ngreat  was  the  social  rebound  from  the  trials  of  war* \nthat  one  of  the  Boston  ministers  felt  called  upon  to \nremind  his  congregation,  in  a  sermon,  of  the  necessity \nthat  still  remained  for  the  practice  of  forbearance \nand  self-denial ! \n\nDuring  the  long  period  since  Governor  Winthrop \nset  foot  on  the  peninsula  of  Shawmut  to  the  time \nnow  under  consideration,  Boston  was  a  simple  de- \nmocracy. It  was  the  duty  of  every  freeman  to \nmeet  at  some  appointed  place,  when  called  upon, \nto  confer  upon  the  interests  of  the  town.  The \ngovernment  was  first  of  the  most  informal  sort  ; \nWinthrop  and  nine  others  seem  to  have  acted  for \nthe  whole  body  during  the  intervals  between  the \nmeetings,  which  occurred  at  first  twice  each  year. \nThey  were  known  as  the  \"  ten  men,\"  or  the  \"  town's \nmen,\"  until  1643,  when  they  are  incidentally  men- \ntioned on  the  records  as  \"selectmen,\"  a  name  which \nwas  fixed  upon  them  after  1647,  in  which  year  their \nelection  became  annual.  The  semi-annual  meetings \nof  the  freemen  were  warned  from  house  to  house, — \n\n*  See  Winsor's  History,  vol.  iv. ,  p.  22,  for  more  particulars  in  re- \ngard to  the  return  of  peace. \n\n\nSELECTMEN'S  DINNERS.  4I9 \n\na  very  slow  method  one  would  suppose.  Altogether \nthe  town  system  was  a  bungling  one  for  commu- \nnities of  much  size,  although  in  small  places  it  was \nexceedingly  effective  under  skilful  guidance,  as  a \nmeans  of  bringing  the  sentiment  of  all  the  citizens \nto  bear  upon  one  point. \n\nAs  early  as  1650  the  difificulties  of  the  informal \ngovernment  were  apparent,  and  Boston  petitioned \nthe  general  court  that  it  might  become  a  corpora- \ntion ;  but  there  is  no  evidence  that  the  court  took \nany  steps  in  the  premises.  The  original  plan  was \neconomical,  for,  in  the  earliest  times,  at  least,  the \n\"town's  men\"  not  only  received  no  pay  for  their \nservices,  but  were  allowed  to  liquidate  their  own  in- \ncidental expenses.  In  1637,  it  was  agreed  that  the \ncharges  for  the  meetings  of  the  town's  men  should \nbe  borne  by  the  town  in  general,  and  the  gentlemen \nsoon  found  it  convenient  to  \"  refresh  \"  themselves \nafter  their  arduous  duties.  Thus  in  1647  a  charge \nwas  made  of  two  pounds  eighteen  shillings  for  \"  a \nselectmen's  dinner,\"  and  a  custom  arose  that  has \nbeen  followed  until  very  late  times.  The  \"  junket- \nings \"  of  the  city  fathers  have  sometimes  reached \nsuch  an  extent  as  to  spread  dismay  among  the  less \nfavored  citizens  who  were  permitted  to  pay  the  ex- \npenses of  the  government. \n\nThough  the  general  court  did  not  take  steps  to \nconstitute  Boston  a  corporation  in  1650,  it  allowed \nit  to  choose  seven  commissioners  in  165 1,  who  were \nmagistrates  authorized  to  hear  and  give  judgment \nupon  civil  actions;  but  in  1708,  the  selectmen  re- \nported that  the  government  was  inefficient  because \n\n\n420  THE  TOWN  BECOMES  A    CITY. \n\nthere  was  no  \"proper  head  \"  through  whom  the  law \nshould  be  put  into  execution,  and  they  thought  that \nas  the  town  was  growing  more  populous,  good  order \ncould  not  be  expected  without  more  strict  regulation. \nThey  therefore  urged  that  a  charter  of  incorporation \nbe  prepared  for  presentation  at  the  next  annual \nmeeting  of  the  town.  A  committee  was  appointed, \nand  a  scheme  drawn  up.  It  was  in  due  time  pre- \nsented to  the  town,  and,  though  most  of  the  prin- \ncipal inhabitants  were  in  favor  of  it,  the  people  felt \nmisgivings  lest  some  of  their  privileges  were  to  be \ntaken  away,  and  it  was  voted  down.  One  of  the \npopular  champions  made  a  conclusive  speech,  ending \nwith  the  warning:  \"It  is  a  whelp  now,  it  will  be  a \nlion  by-and-by ;  knock  it  in  the  head!  Mr.  Moder- \nator, put  the  question  !  \"  The  \"  whelp  \"  was  killed, \nand  no  effort  of  a  similar  nature  seems  to  have  been \nmade  until  the  March  meeting  in  1762,  when  the \nfreemen  voted,  almost  unanimously,  that  no  steps \nshould  be  taken  towards  making  the  town  a  cor- \nporation. \n\nMeantime  the  dil^culties  of  the  situation  were  in- \ncreasing. It  was  found  that  no  public  building  could \npossibly  hold  all  of  the  freemen,  if  they  should  all \nattend  a  meeting,  and  even  though  but  a  small \nproportion  appeared,  it  was  impracticable  for  them \nall  to  take  part  in  the  discussion,  or  even  to  hear  all \nthat  was  said  by  others.  The  result  naturally  was \nthat  the  control  of  the  affairs  of  Boston,  fell  into  the \nhands  of  a  small  number  of  persons,  and,  though  at \nthe  time  these  were  the  persons  best  qualified  to \n^vjQ.  them   proper  direction,  it   was  not  at   all   the \n\n\nNO  INNOVATIONS    WANTED.  42  1 \n\nnormal  condition  of  things,  nor  that  Hkely  to  con- \ntinue satisfactory.  In  case  of  an  exciting  subject \ncoming  up  the  hall  would  be  crowded  ;  but  on  other \noccasions  the  business  was  carried  through  by  thirty \nor  forty  persons  besides  the  town  ofificers.  The \nmajority  of  the  citizens  took  things  upon  trust,  and \nfew  gave  public  affairs  careful  consideration. \n\nThe  intervals  between  the  discussions  of  the  sub- \nject of  a  city  government  were  becoming  shorter. \nThe  matter  laid  quiet  lifty-eight  years  after  the  first \nproposition  of  1650;  fifty-four  years  elapsed  before \nthe  discussion  of  1762;  and  in  twenty-years  it  came \nup  again.  Upon  its  presentation  in  1784,  at  a \nmeeting  especially  called  to  consider  a  carefully \nprepared  plan,  there  was  \"  an  unabated  roaring,\"  and \namid  the  cries  of  \"  No  corporation — No  Mayor  and \naldermen — No  innovations  !  \"  there  were  incessant \ncalls  for  the  question  ;  no  discussion  was  allowed, \nand  the  vote  was  recorded  against  the  plan.  Similar \nefforts  were  made  in  1791,  1804,  and  181 5,  all  without \nsucccess,  though  the  need  of  a  more  efificient  police, \nas  well  as  one  responsible  head  \"  to  take  a  general \noversight,\"  was  generally  felt,  and  the  difficulties  of \ntransacting  public  business  increased.  The  plan  pre- \nsented in  the  year  last  mentioned  approached  more \nnearly  the  form  of  a  city  government  than  any  which \nhad  preceded  it.  It  provided  for  an  \"  intendant,\" \nand  a  \"municipality  \"  consisting  of  two  citizens  from \neach  ward,  and  a  body  of  selectmen  chosen  by  the \ncitizens  generally.  This  scheme  was  defeated  by  the \nvery  small  majority  of  thirty-one. \n\nOn  the  last  day  of  December,  1821,  the  town  was \n\n\n422  THE  TOWN  BECOMES  A    CITY. \n\ncalled  to  consider  and  act  upon  another  plan  for  a \ncity  organization. \n\nIn  his  municipal  history  of  Boston,  Mr.  Quincy \nshows  that  in  view  of  the  want  of  safety  and  respon- \nsibility of  the  loose  methods  of  the  town  government, \nthe  \"  inherited  and  inveterate  antipathy  to  a  city \norganization  \"  had  now  much  diminished.  The  loose- \nness of  the  financial  methods  are  astonishing,  and \nare  only  to  be  explained  on  the  hypothesis  that  each \nfreeman  had  entire  confidence  in  every  other.  The \nselectmen,  overseers  of  the  poor,  and  board  of  health \nwere  the  \"  committee  on  finance,\"  which  exercised \nthe  whole  power  of  taxation.  After  the  money  was \ncollected  by  an  ofificer  whom  the  three  boards  ap- \npointed, it  was  kept  by  a  treasurer  whom  they  also \nchose,  and  spent  by  them  as  they  pleased,  each  board \ntaking  as  much  as  it  deemed  requisite  for  its  pur- \nposes. The  amount  to  be  raised  annually  was  form- \nally voted  by  the  town  meeting  of  which  the  members \nof  the  board  were  apt  to  contribute  the  majority  of \nthe  freemen  present.  It  is  not  strange  that  great  in- \nterest attached  to  the  subject  at  this  time. \n\nFor  three  days  Faneuil  Hall  w^as  thronged,  and \nearnest  but  decorous  discussions  were  carried  on  by \nsome  of  the  most  respected  citizens.  On  Monday, \nJanuary  7,  1822,  the  final  ballots  were  cast  which \ndecided  the  long-discussed  subject.  It  was  voted \nthat  there  should  be  a  city  government,  and  that \nthe  name  of  the  town  should  be  changed  to  the  City \nof  Boston.  A  charter  was  granted  by  the  legislature \nand  signed  by  the  governor,  February  23d.  The \ncharter  was  accepted  by  the  people  at  its  last  town- \nmeeting,  held  March  4th,  and  the  governor  announced \n\n\nELECTING    THE   FIRST  MA  YOR.  423 \n\nthe  fact  by  proclamation,  three  days  later.  The  first \nday  of  May  was  designated  as  the  beginning  of  the \nmunicipal  year,  and  it  was  necessary  that  the  city \nshould  be  divided  into  wards  before  the  second \nMonday  in  April,  in  order  that  upon  that  day  there \nshould  be  an  election  of  mayor  and  aldermen  and \nsubordinate  officers.  The  inferior  offices  gave  no \ntrouble,  for  it  was  found  practicable  to  divide  them \namong  the  different  political  parties  in  such  a  way \nthat  each  was  satisfied  ;  but,  as  Dr.  Snow  observes, \nthe  mayoralty  was  \"  an  honor  that  could  not  be \ndivided,\"  and  a  spirited  contest  immediately  opened \nfor  that  office. \n\nMr.  Josiah  Quincy  had  been  chairman  of  the  final \ntown-meeting,  and  it  was  considered  by  many  promi- \nnent citizens  that  he  was  the  man  for  the  chief \nmagistracy.  Mr.  Quincy  accepted  a  nomination,  not \nknowing,  it  is  said,  that  other  citizens  proposed  to \nraise  Mr.  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  who  had  lately  resigned \nhis  seat  in  the  United  States  senate,  to  that  office,  as \na  stepping-stone  to  the  higher  post  of  governor.  Mr. \nOtis  was  a  gentleman  of  \"  the  old  school,\"  who  had \nlong  been  prominent  in  public  affairs,  though,  partly \nbecause  he  had  been  a  member  of  the  Hartford  Con- \nvention, his  popularity  was  at  this  time  considerably \nless  than  it  had  formerly  been.*  Mr.  Quincy  pos- \nsessed many  traits  that  fitted  him  for  the  office  to \n\n*  Mr.  Otis  was  one  of  the  Latin-School  boys,  who  attended  Master \nLovell's  celebrated  institution  the  last  time  on  the  morning  of  April \n19.  1775.  passing,  on  his  way,  by  the  British  troops  who  occupied \nTremont  Street  from  Scollay's  Building  almost  to  the  bottom  of  the \nMall,  and  running  home  as  fast  as  his  young  legs  would  carry  him, \nfor  fear  of  the  soldiers,  when  he  heard  the  words,  deponile  lihros,  with \nwhich  the  exercises  were  indefinitely  postponed. \n\n\n424  THE  TOWN  BECOMES  A    CITY, \n\nwhich  he  was  nominated,  though  he  had  resisted  the \neffort  to  make  a  city  of  the  town,  because  he  be- \nHeved  that  the  pure  democracy  of  the  town-meeting \nwas  less  Hable  to  abuse  and  more  suited  to  the  New \nEngland  character  than  the  more  compact  form. \n\nOn  the  eve  of  the  election  another  candidate  was \nnominated,  and  the  next  day  his  name  was  presented \nat  the  polls,  without  his  knowledge,  and  much  to  his \ndispleasure,  with  such  success  as  to  draw  enough \nvotes  to  prevent  an  election.  Thus  the  era  of  city \ngovernment  seemed  to  fulfil  Mr.  Ouincy's  prophetic \nopinion,  by  opening  with  a  small  political  trick.  Mr. \nQuincy  and  Mr.  Otis  immediately  withdrew  from \nthe  contest,  and  Mr.  John  Phillips,  a  person  who  was \nfamiliar  with  public  business,  and  who  bore  an  un- \ndisputed character  for  honesty,  discretion,  and  sound \njudgment,  was,  after  a  few  days  of  great  excitement, \nchosen  to  the  position  by  a  vote  almost  unanimous. \n\nGreat  preparation  was  made  for  the  inauguration \nof  the  new  government.  At  the  appointed  hour, \nFaneuil  Hall  was  filled  to  excess ;  the  newly  chosen \nofficers  occupied  positions  of  prominence  on  a  plat- \nform erected  for  the  purpose,  and  two  of  the  galleries \nwere  filled  with  ladies.  After  a  prayer  by  the  senior \nminister  of  the  city,  the  oaths  were  administered, \nand  the  chairman  of  the  retiring  board  of  selectmen \ndelivered  an  address  to  the  mayor,  handing  him  a \nsilver  case  containing  the  town  charter  and  books  of \nrecords,  after  which  Mayor  Phillips  made  his  address. \nIn  the  course  of  his  remarks,  Mr.  Phillips  said : \n\"  Purity  of  manners,  general  diffusion  of  knowledge, \nand  strict  attention  to  the  education  of  the  young, \nand    above    all    a    firm    practical    belief    of  that  di- \n\n\nSICUT  PA  TRIE  US.  425 \n\nvine  revelation  which  has  affixed  the  penalty  of \nunceasing  anguish  to  vice  and  promised  to  virtue \nrewards  of  interminable  duration,  will  counteract  the \nevils  of  any  form  of  government.\"  Mr,  Phillips'  son, \nthe  late  Wendell  Phillips,  relates  that  his  father  built \nthe  first  brick  dwelling  on  Beacon  street.  It  stood  on \nthe  corner  of  Walnut,  next  to  the  stone  house  of  John \nHancock,  and  was  thought  so  remote  from  the  other \ndwellings  that  his  uncle,  Judge  Oliver  Wendell,  was \nasked  what  had  induced  his  nephew  \"  to  remove  out \nof  town.\" \n\nMr.  Phillips  conceived  it  to  be  his  duty  simply  to \norganize  the  new  government,  to  make  the  people  of \nBoston  familiar  with  an  unaccustomed  and  some- \nwhat uncongenial  form,  with  as  little  friction  as \npossible  ;  to  make  as  few  innovations  as  were  con- \nsistent with  effectual  work.  As  Mr.  Otis  said,  he \n\"  respected  the  force  of  ancient  and  honest  preju- \ndices,\" and,  in  making  a  novel  experiment,  aimed \n\"to  reconcile  by  gentle  reform,  not  to  revolt  by \nstartling  innovation.\"  He  accomplished  this  with \nmuch  success.  Naturally  such  a  prudent  line  of  con- \nduct was  not  adapted  to  give  cause  for  complaint, \nneither  was  it  likely  to  excite  special  admiration  ; \nand  many  felt  disappointed  that  no  more  energy \ncharacterized  the  new  government. \n\nThe  feelings  of  the  officials,  as  well  as  of  the  citi- \nzens generally,  are  shown  in  the  motto  adopted  for \nthe  municipal  seal,— 5/<r/^/  patribus,  sit  Dens  nobis, \n\"As  God  was  with  our  fathers,  so  may  he  be  with \nus,\" — an  adaptation  of  the  fifty-seventh  verse  of  the \neighth  chapter  of  the  first  book  of  Kings,  as  it \nappears  in  the  Latin  vulgate. \n\n\nXXIX. \n\n\nTHE   SECOND    MAYOR. \n\n\nAt  the  time  of  which  we  have  now  to  treat  Boston \nis  said  to  have  been  more  purely  English  than  any \ntown  of  its  size  in  England  itself.  It  was,  as  the \nbiographer  of  Josiah  Ouincy  says,  singularly  homo- \ngeneous in  its  population ;  \"  the  great  Irish  and \nGerman  emigrations  had  not  then  set  in,\"  and  it  is \nprobable  that  no  town  of  fifty  or  sixty  thousand \ninhabitants  could  have  been  kept  in  peace  and  safety \nwith  so  small  a  body  of  watchmen  as  proved  equal \nto  the  requirements  of  the  Puritan  city.  There \nwere,  we  are  told,  but  twenty-four  policemen,  and  at \nnight  not  more  than  eighteen  watchmen  were  on \nduty  at  a  time.  This  peacefulness  is  accounted  for \nby  the  fact  just  mentioned,  that  the  inhabitants  of \nNew  England  were  of  pure  English  descent,  with \nbut  little  mixture  of  other  blood.  Their  ancestors \nwere  the  Winthrops,  the  Quincys,  the  Saltonstalls, \nthe  Endicotts,  the  Adamses,  of  other  times,  and  it \nwas  a  part  of  their  heredity  to  keep  peace  themselves \nwithout  the  help  of  any  guardians. \n\nWhen  the  time  came  for  another  election  of  chief \nmagistrate,  Mr.  Josiah  Quincy  was  chosen  almost \nunanimously,  and  he  entered   upon  his  duties  in  a \n\n426 \n\n\nJOSIAH   QUINCY  (1772-1864). \nFrom  the  portrait  by  Stuart  now  in  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts. \n\n427 \n\n\n428  THE   SECOND   MA  YOR. \n\nvery  different  spirit  from  that  which  has  been  re- \nmarked in  his  intimate  friend  and  predecessor.  Mr. \nQuincy  did  not  take  the  ofifice  as  a  stepping-stone  to \nany  greater  position  of  usefulness,  but  he  made  it  a \npost  of  signal  service  to  his  native  place.  He  was \na  Boston  man  through  and  through,  born  of  a  line \nthat  was  begun  in  the  town  three  years  after  the  arri- \nval of  Winthrop,  by  an  ancestor  who  arrived  there  in \ncompany  with  the  Reverend  John  Cotton.  He  was \nson  of  Josiah  Ouinc}'  \"junior,\"  whose  words  to  his \nfather,  when  remonstrating  with  him  for  defending \nCaptain  Preston  for  firing  upon  the  mob  at  the  time \nof  the  \"  Massacre,\"  seem  to  have  been  the  motto \nupon  which  he  acted.  Said  Josiah  Quincy  \"junior\": \n\"  I  never  harbored  the  expectation,  nor  any  great \ndesire,  that  all  men  should  speak  well  of  me.  To \ninquire  my  duty,  and  to  do  it,  is  my  aim.\"  * \n\nMr.  Quincy  had  been  long  before  the  Boston  pub- \nlic, though  he  was  but  fifty-one  years  of  age.  His \ncareer  may  be  said  to  have  begun  in  1798,  when  he \ndelivered  in  the  Old  South  church  a  Fourth-of-July \noration  marked  by  youthful  enthusiasm,  which  drew \npassionate  tears  from  his  audience,  and  attracted  so \nmuch  attention  that  it  was  reprinted  in  Philadelphia, \nthen  the  seat  of  government,  and  called  from  Presi- \ndent Adams  the  statement  that  it  was  \"  one  of  the \nmost  precious  morsels  that  our  country  has  pro- \nduced upon  such  occasions.\"  Mr.  Quincy  had  been \na  member  of  the  Massachusetts  senate  and  of  the \nFederal  Congress  (then  sitting  in  Washington),  of \nwhich  he  had  for  a  time  been  Speaker.     His  chief \n\n*  See  \"  Memoir  of  Josiah  Quincy  Juuior,\"  by  his  son,  pj).  34-3^^). \n\n\nMR.  QUINCY  THE  REAL    HEAD.  429 \n\npractical  knowledge  of  the  problems  with  which  he \nwas  now  called  to  deal  was  gained  while  he  was  a \nmember  of  the  general  court  (where  he  was  chairman \nof  a  committee  appointed  in  1820  to  investigate  pau- \nperism), and  as  judge  of  the  municipal  court  of  Boston, \nwhich  had  jurisdiction  in  all  criminal  cases  not  capital. \nIn  March,  1822,  in  a  charge  to  the  grand  jury,  Mr. \nQuincy  treated  the  subjects  of  poverty,  vice,  and  crime \nin  their  relations  to  one  another ;  pointed  out  the  ne- \ncessity for  reform  in  the  methods  of  dealing  with \ncriminals,  as  well  as  for  the  separation  of  the  differ- \nent classes  of  convicts  ;  and  declared  in  favor  of \nprivate  executions  instead  of  the  ghastly  public \n\"  occasions  \"  by  which  the  Boston  public  had  been \nbrutalized,  since  the  day  when  the  people  went \nfrom  the  \"  Thursday  Lecture,\"  in  1659,  to  see  the \nthree  Quakers  hanged,  and  poor  Mary  Dyer  taken \ndown  from  the  gallows-tree  by  main  force.*  At  the \ntime  of  his  election,  Mr.  Quincy  lived  in  a  house  on \nTremont  Street,  at  the  corner  of  Hamilton  Place,  to \nwhich  he  had  removed  in  1820. \n\nThe  new  mayor  was  not  only  determined  that  the \nbusiness  of  the  young  city  should  be  done  well,  but \nhe  felt  it  desirable  that  he  should  be  conversant  with \nevery  part  of  it.  He  therefore  decided  to  make  him- \nself chairman  of  every  one  of  the  committees  of  the \nboard  of  aldermen,  and  to  take  the  \"laboring  oar\" \ninto  his  own  hands.  He  then  looked  over  the \nground,  sought  out  the  weak  places  in  the  govern- \nment, and  the  neglected  places  in  the  city,  and  laid \n\n*See  \"  The  Puritan  Age  and  Rule  in  the  Colony  of  the  Massachu- \nsetts Bay,\"  p.  4.63. \n\n\n430  THE   SECOND   MAYOR. \n\nhis  energetic  plans  to  strengthen  the  first  and  purify \nthe  others.     He  divided  the  acts  that  he  had  to  per- \nform   into    four    classes :    those   relating  to   morals, \ncomfort,  convenience,  and  ornament,  and  began  his \nwork  at  the  first  division.     There  was  in  the  \"  West \nEnd,\"  so-called,  a  region  of  the  city  where  vice  was \naudaciously  obtrusive,  and  where  murders  were  so \nfrequent   that   he   was   assured    that    no   man's    life \nwould  be  safe  in  attempting  to  enforce  order  without \nthe   support   of  the   military.     This   was  the  emer- \ngency that  suited   Mr.  Quincy's  temperament.     He \nexamined  the  laws  and  found  that,  under  an   anti- \nquated provincial  enactment,  he  had   authority,  as \njustice   of  the   peace,  to  arrest   the   fiddlers   whose \nstrains  inspired  the  orgies  of  the  dance-houses,  and \nthey  were  arrested.     He  then  took  away  the  Hcenses \nof  the   tippling-houses,  and  the  enemy  succumbed \nunder  stress  of  thirst  and  low  spirits.     Wealth  and \nrespectability    afterwards    took    possession    of   the \nregion  thus  reclaimed.     When,  on  another  occasion, \nthe  constabulary  proved  insufificient  to  quell  a  riot \namong    the    most     disreputable    townspeople,    Mr. \nOuincy  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  sturdy  \"  dray- \nmen \"  and  sent  the  rioters  about  their  business  by \nforce  of  muscle,  directed  by  proper  strategic  ability. \nMr.  Quincy  looked  over  the  lines  of  his  municipal \nfence  and  saw  that  Philadelphia  and  New  York  man- \naged their  fires  and  firemen  in  better  style  than  Bos- \nton knew,  and  he  obtained  from  the  legislature,  with \ngreat  difificulty,  be  it  said,  the  necessary  powers  to \nmake    a   reform    in    this    particular.     At    that    time \na  fire  was  an  event  of  direst  confusion  ;  there  were \n\n\nWA  TER-B  UCKE  TS  A ND  BA  GS.  43  I \n\nthirty-six  officers,  all  equal  in  authority,  and  no \nguiding  head  gave  unity  to  the  efforts  for  the  preser- \nvation of  property.  At  the  stroke  of  the  alarm \nevery  citizen  so  disposed  rushed  to  the  scene,  if  he \ncould  find  it,  armed  with  a  water-bucket  and  a  bag. \nEngines  there  were,  manned  by  voluntary  compa- \nnies, and  directed  by  officers  chosen  by  the  people ; \ntheir  power  was  small,  and  for  water  they  depended \nupon  the  buckets  brought  by  the  citizens,  who \nformed  lines  to  the  nearest  pond  or  dock,  and  passed \nthe  supply  along  with  what  rapidity  they  could. \nThe  officers  might  press  all  passers-by  into  the  ser- \nvice, and  many  a  head  is  reported  to  have  ached \nfrom  knocks  from  the  poles  that  they  bore  as  tokens \nof  their  puny  power.  Mr.  Quincy,  with  a  temerity \nthat  astonished  sober  Bostonians  at  that  time,  caused \ncisterns  to  be  provided  at  convenient  points  to  sup- \nply water ;  he  bought  two  engines  and  a  \"  hydraulion  \" \nin  Philadelphia  and  New  York,  furnished  them  with \nhose,  and  abolished  the  ancient  confusion.  The \nproposition  of  a  fire  department  which  should  \"  ex- \nclude \"  citizens,  instead  of  demanding  their  assist- \nance, was  indignantly  opposed,  and  it  was  said  that, \nthough  such  laws  might  be  obeyed  in  despotic  coun- \ntries, or  in  cities  where  the  inhabitants  lack  fellow- \nfeeling,  the  men  of  Boston  would  never  be  prohibited \nfrom  helping  a  fellow-townsman  in  distress.  When \nengines  were  bought  in  other  cities  it  was  publicly \nasked  whether  the  mechanics  of  Boston  were  so \ninferior  in  skill  to  those  of  New  York  and  Philadel- \nphia, that  public  money  had  to  be  expended  in \npatronage  of  their  workmen.     Every  possible  obsta- \n\n\n432  THE   SECOND  MA  YOR. \n\ncle  was  placed  in  the  way  of  the  mayor  in  his  efforts. \nThe  engines  were  disabled  in  the  night-time  ;  their \nhose  were  cut,  even  at  fires  ;  and  the  perpetrators  of \nthese  acts  were  so  thoroughly  shielded  that  large \nrewards  failed  to  discover  them. \n\nMr,  Quincy  recognized  the  relations  between \nmorals  and  cleanliness,  and  saw  that  the  subject  of \nthe  removal  from  the  streets  of  all  that  offended  the \nsenses  or  endangered  the  health  would  at  once  in- \ncrease municipal  self-respect  and  add  to  the  public \ncomfort.  He  therefore  collected  all  the  city  offal \nand  utilized  it  upon  city  property,  so  that  the  outlay \nwas  largely  repaid  in  the  improvements.  Streets \nthat  were  dark  and  crooked  were  widened  and \nmade  straight  ;  drains  were  laid  ;  a  new  mall  was \ncreated  on  Charles  Street  ;  the  finances,  which  were \nstill  managed  in  a  loose  manner,*  were  systematized \nand  made  effective,  while  the  management  was  more \nresponsible  ;  measures  were  initiated  looking  to  ob- \ntaining a  supply  of  fresh  water  ;  a  census  was  taken, \nand  it  was  found  that  the  population  was  fifty-eight \nthousand  two  hundred  and  eighty-one  (in  1825) ;  the \nevils  to  which  Mr.  Quincy  had  before  drawn  atten- \ntion, resulting  from  the  mingling  of  honest  poor \nwith  rogues  in  the  almshouse,  were  overcome  by  the \nestablishment  of  a  house  of  correction,  and  a  house \nof  reformation  for  juvenile  offenders  ;  and  finally  the \ncity  was  provided  with  a  new  and  commodious \nmarket-house. \n\n*  The  four  boards  of  the  city  government  at  this  time  exercised \nequal  and  independent  power  in  disbursing  public  money,  and  were \nresponsible  to  no  one  else. \n\n\nTHE    QUINCY  MARKET.  433 \n\nThe  building  of  the  market-house,  which  famil- \niarly goes  by  Mr.  Ouincy's  name,  though,  owing  to \npersonal  feeling,  it  did  not  receive  it  formally,  was \nthe  most  noteworthy  event  of  the  second  mayor's \nterm  of  ofTfice.  Mr.  Quincy  was  accustomed  to  say, \nwith  more  truth  than  poetry,  that  no  man  could  do \nhis  duty  in  such  an  of^ce  without  finally  being \nrewarded  by  being  turned  out.  This  proved  his \nexperience,  and  after  five  elections  he  was,  in  1828, \nrelegated  to  private  life  by  the  votes  of  those  whose \nprojects  had  been  disturbed  by  his  honest  efforts  to \nadvance  the  public  interests. \n\nThe  market  facilities  of  Boston,  at  the  time  that \nMr.  Quincy  took  up  his  of^ce,  were  the  same  that \nthey  had  been  nearly  one  hundred  years  before, \nthough  the  population  had  increased  fourfold,  and \none  of  the  first  problems  that  he  undertook  to  solve \nwas  how  they  might  be  increased.  It  was  a  difificult \nquestion,  rendered  unnecessarily  hard  of  solution  by \nthe  bitter  opposition  which  the  plan  the  mayor  finally \nmade  encountered  from  prominent  citizens,  less \nfar-seeing  than  he,  from  the  members  of  the  city \ncouncil,  and  from  the  legislature,  though  it  was  ac- \nknowledged that  Faneuil  Hall  Market  was  inadequate \nfor  the  needs  of  the  city,  and  though  the  situation \nwas  notoriously  unhealthy  and  inconvenient  of  ac- \ncess. It  is  almost  past  belief  that  at  the  time  the \nentire  space  occupied  by  stalls  in  and  around  Faneuil \nHall  was  not  more  than  fourteen  hundred  square \nfeet.*  The  Hall  itself  was  erected  on  \"  made  \"  land, \nand  had  the  town  dock,  with  its  festering  filth,  di- \n\n*  Winsor's  \"  History,\"  vol.  iii.,  page  228. \n\n\n434  ^^^   SECOND  MA  YOR. \n\nrectly  to  the  north,  though  now  it  is  separated  from \nthe  water  on  all  sides  by  warehouses  and  streets,  and \nseems  to  stand  on  solid  earth. \n\nThe  difficulty  of  the  plan  that  he  had  conceived, \nas  well  as  the  eminent  desirability  of  giving  Boston \nthe  facilities  it  needed,  increased  the  charms  of  the \nundertaking  in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Quincy,  rather  than \ndaunted  him,  and  he  entered  upon  the  work  with \npersistence,  and  accomplished  success,  for  which  his \nname  has  ever  since  been  held  in  grateful  remem- \nbrance. He  opened  six  new  streets,  enlarged  a \nseventh,  obtained  for  the  city  unincumbered  posses- \nsion of  docks,  flats,  and  wharf-rights,  to  the  extent \nof  more  than  three  acres  in  the  centre  of  the  town, \nwithout  drawing  upon  its  resources,  or  creating  a \ndebt,  but  by  actually  adding  largely  to  its  produc- \ntive possessions.  The  dock  was  filled  in,  and  besides \nfurnishing  land  on  which  the  improvements  were \nerected,  it  gave  the  city  an  estate  which  was  sold \nfor  enough  to  pay  for  the  entire  outlay,  besides \nadding  to  the  taxable  property  the  value  of  the \nwarehouses  that  the  buyers  erected.  The  market- \nhouse  itself  is  an  edifice  of  granite,  five  hundred \nand  thirty-five  feet  in  length,  by  fifty  feet  in  width, \ncovering  over  half  an  acre,  and  costing  one  hundred \nand  fifty  thousand  dollars.  This  building  is  a  per- \nmanent monument  to  the  memory  of  the  great  mayor \nof  Boston.* \n\nAnother  subject  to  which  Mr.  Quincy  gave  atten- \n\n*  The  corner-stone  was  laid  with  mucli  ceremony  in  April,  1825, \nand  the  building  was  formally  opened  in  1826.  The  entire  outlay \nfor  the  improvements  was  more  than  eleven  hundred  thousand  dollars. \n\n\nMORE    WATER  NEEDED.  435 \n\ntion  was  the  water  supply  for  the  city.  At  that \nperiod  the  nature  of  disease  originating  in  contami- \nnated waters  was  not  understood  so  well  as  it  is  at \npresent,  and  though  Mr.  Quincy  urged  the  matter  with \nzeal  upon  the  city  government,  he  could  only  venture \nto  base  his  action  on  the  claims  of  health  with \ncaution.  He  mentioned  with  confidence  the  need \nof  protection  against  fire,  the  cuHnary  and  other \ndomestic  necessities  of  the  citizens,  which  made  it \ndesirable  that  water  from  a  stream  or  pond  should \nbe  introduced  into  every  house  in  the  city;  and \nthen  he  added  that  \"  physicians  of  the  first  respect- \nability,\" had  urged  upon  him  that  the  spring  water\" \nof  Boston  was  harsh,  and  impregnated  with  salts \nthat  impaired  its  excellence  as  an  article  of  drink, \nand  that  they  had  \"  been  led  to  the  opinion  that \nmany  complaints  of  obscure  origin  owed  their \nexistence  to  the  qualities  of  the  common  spring \nwater  of  Boston.\"  The  city  was  at  the  time  supplied \nfrom  wells  and  cisterns,  and  by  water  brought  from \nJamaica  Pond  through  pine  logs,  and  though  this \nwas,  as  Mr.  Quincy  said,  insufficient,  conservatism \nand  interest  proved  so  strong  as  to  put  off  the  day \nin  which  the  supply  could  be  increased  for  twenty- \none  years  longer,  when  Lake  Cochituate  (then  Long \nPond)  was  tapped.* \n\n*  The  mayor  at  that  time  was  \"  Josiah  Quincy,\"  son  of  the  one  at \npresent  under  consideration,  though  the  aged  father,  then  seventy- \nfour  years  of  age,  took  part  in  the  ceremony  (Aug.  26th,  1846),  in \ncompany  with  his  son  and  ex-president  John  Quincy  Adams,  thus \nhaving  the  opportunity  of  seeing  his  former  desires  realized  under  the \nmanagement  of  his  namesake. \n\n\n436  THE   SECOND   MA  YOK. \n\nWhen  the  time  for  a  new  choice  of  mayor  arrived, \nin  December,  1828,  Mr.  Quincy  failed  of  receiving  a \nmajority  of  the  votes  on  the  first  and  second  ballots, \nand  immediately  announced  that  he  should  under \nno  consideration  again  accept  the  ofifice  to  which  he \nhad  devoted  his  time  unremittingly  for  so  long.  He \nformally  laid  down  the  harness  after  his  notable \ncareer,  with  a  final  address  to  the  other  members  of \nthe  city  government,  in  which  he  rapidly  glanced \nat  the  record  of  the  previous  six  years.  He  spoke \nof  the  improvement  in  the  conduct  of  the  fire \ndepartment,  and  of  the  reduction  of  insurance \npremiums  ;  of  the  steps  taken  in  behalf  of  general \nhealth,  and  their  success ;  of  the  advance  in  pro- \nvision for  public  education  ;  of  the  reformation  of \ncertain  portions  of  the  city ;  of  the  decrease  of \nstreet-begging ;  of  the  value  of  the  public  improve- \nments carried  through  at  such  great  personal  labor \non  his  own  part ;  and  he  refuted  the  animadversions \nof  those  who  said:  \"  The  Mayor  assumes  too  much. \nHe  does  not  sit  solemn  and  dignified  in  his  chair, \nand  leave  the  general  superintendence  to  others,  but \nhe  is  everywhere  and  about  everything,  in  the  street, \nin  the  docks,  among  the  common  sewers, — no  place \nbut  what  is  vexed  by  his  presence.\"  He  laid  his \nhand  on  the  city  charter  and  found  his  vindication \nby  reading  the  duties  laid  upon  the  chief  executive \nofficer, — duties  to  which  he  was  sworn,  and  showed \nthat  as  he  was  made  responsible  for  every  thing, \nit  was  necessary  that  he  should  not  shift  the  per- \nformance upon  others.  Recalling  the  assurances \nwith  which  he  entered   upon   his   duties,    he  closed \n\n\nMR.    QUnVCY'S  LAST  DAYS.  43/ \n\nwith  the  noble  words  of  the  prophet  Samuel,  uttered \nlikewise  on  laying  down  office  :  \"  Behold,  here  I  am. \nWitness  against  me.  Whom  have  I  defrauded? \nWhom  have  I  oppressed  ?  At  whose  hands  have  I \nreceived  any  bribe  ?  \" \n\nMr.  Quincy  lived  long  after  this  time,  an  honored \ncitizen  of  his  loved  town,*  and  when  partisan  feel- \ning had  subsided,  it  was  acknowledged  that  he  had \nnot  only  laid  the  foundations  of  the  present  system \nof  city  government  in  Boston,  but  had  established \nits  permanent  form,  for  the  changes  that  have  been \nmade  since  that  time  have  been  chiefly  those  that  have \nbeen  rendered  necessary  by  the  increasing  population. \n\n*  As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  Mr.  Quincy  was  to  be  no  longer \nmayor  of  Boston,  a  movement  was  made  to  place  him  at  the  head  of \nHarvard  College,  that  position  having  been  vacated  by  the  death  of \nDr.  Kirkland.  The  relations  between  Boston  and  the  college  were \nat  that  time  even  more  intimate  than  at  present.  Commencement \nday  was  a  legal  holiday,  and  the  road  to  Cambridge  was  on  that  day \ncrowded  with  eager  throngs  on  horseback,  on  foot,  and  in  carriages \nof  all  sorts.  The  election  of  Mr.  Quincy  was  notable,  because  he \nwas  the  first  person  not  a  minister  who  had  been  thought  worthy  of  the \noffice,  and  because,  as  is  said,  it  was  the  last  occasion  on  which  at  the \ninauguration  the  Latin  language  was  used  by  the  president-elect  and \nthe  governor  of  the  State  in  their  addresses  to  each  other  and  to  the \npublic.  Mr.  Quincy  removed  to  Cambridge  with  his  family,  and \nafter  his  remarkable  career  of  sixteen  years  there  (having  made  such \nchanges  in  the  institution  that  he  has  been  called  \"the  great  organ- \nizer of  the  University),\"  he  retired  to  private  life,  and  took  up  his \nabode  in  a  dwelling  which  he  had  bought  in  anticipation  of  the  event, \non  the  top  of  Beacon  Hill.  After  a  dozen  years  he  removed  to  a \nhouse  fronting  on  the  Common,  where  he  remained  until  his  ninety- \nsecond  year,  when  he  was  taken  to  Quincy.  He  died  on  the  first  of \nJuly,  1864. \n\n\nXXX. \n\n\nTHE   NEW    ORDER   ESTABLISHED. \n\n\nThe  government  of  Boston  city  was  now  estab- \nlished. There  had  been  two  mayors ;  there  have \nbeen  twenty-eight  on  the  Hst  in  all,  counting  the  one \nwho  entered  upon  his  duties  in  1889.  The  first  one \nprepared  the  citizens  for  the  change  in  the  mode  of \ncarrying  the  public  business  on  ;  and  the  second  set \nan  example  for  all  who  were  to  follow,  of  devotion \nto  duty,  of  high  aims,  of  determination  to  perform \nwhat  was  necessary,  even  at  the  risk  of  life  and  pop- \nularity, and  his  work  as  a  public  officer  has  never \nbeen  surpassed.  Still  Boston  was  a  rural  city  ;  her \ncitizens  pastured  their  cows  upon  their  Common \nuntil  after  the  time  of  Mayor  Quincy,  for  they  were \nnot  excluded  from  its  precincts  until  1828,  and  most \nof  the  streets  were  unpaved. \n\nBoston  has  developed  greatly  in  every  direction \nsince  the  time  of  Mayor  Quincy,  but  there  is  scarcely \na  tendency  that  may  not  be  traced  to  that  period, \nor  further  back.  It  is  notable  that  the  early  mayors \nlaid  much  stress  upon  the  need  of  popular  educa- \ntion, and  that  the  great  progress  that  has  since  been \nmade  in  that  direction  may  be  traced  to  early  times. \nStill  it  must  be  recollected  that,  much  as  the  early \n\n43S \n\n\nMA  Y  GIRLS  GO    TO   SCHOOL?  439 \n\nBostonian  esteemed  education,  he  had  for  a  long \ntime  no  conception  of  free,  unsectarian  public  schools \nand  higher  institutions  of  learning  as  they  are  known \nnow. \n\nThe  education  provided  by  the  town  was  for \nboys  only  ;  it  was  intended  only  to  fit  them  for  Har- \nvard College,  through  which  they  were  to  enter  upon \nthe  only  career  open  to  the  learned,  that  of  the  min- \nistry in  the  Congregational  Church,  and  it  was  strictly \na  religious  and  a  sectarian  education.  According  to \nthe  laws  of  Harvard  College,  framed  by  the  first \npresident  and  long  in  vogue,  much  more  attention \nwas  given  to  the  moral  and  religious  training  of  the \nstudents  than  to  the  other  branches  of  their  educa- \ntion ;  and  it  was  specially  ordered  that  \"  every  one \nshall  consider  the  main  end  of  his  life  and  studies  to \nknow  God  and  Jesus  Christ,  which  is  eternal  life  \"  ; \nall  very  appropriate  for  the  theological  seminary  that \nit  was.*  President  Increase  Mather  (in  1698)  char- \nacterized the  students  as  forty  or  fifty  children,  few \nof  them  capable  of  edification  by  such  exercises  \" \nof  Bible  exposition  as  he  was  obliged  to  give  them. \nPresident  Quincy  thought  that  for  the  students  not \ndestined  to  be  ministers,  the  college  exercises  must \nhave  been  irksome,  if  not,  in  their  opinion,  unprofit- \nable. \n\nMr,  Quincy  found,  when  he  came  into  office,  that \ngirls  were  permitted  to  go  to  school,  but  that  they \nwere  not  allowed  to  attend  more  than  one  half  of \nthe  time.  Down  to  1789,  indeed,  girls  had  never \nbeen  permitted  to  attend  the  town   schools  at   all. \n\n*  See  Quincy's  \"  History  of  Harvard  University,\"  pp.  190)  515. \n\n\n440  THE   NEW   ORDER    ESTABLISHED. \n\nDuring  his  term  of  office  the  experiment  was  tried \nof  giving  to  girls  a  high-school  education,  but  it  was \nabandoned  as  too  costly,  and  it  was  thirty  years  be- \nfore the  same  opportunity  was  given  to  girls  again. \nThis  first  girls'  high-school  had  a  curriculum  occu- \npying three  years,  which  did  not  include  Greek  or \nLatin.  There  were  one  hundred  and  forty-six  boys \nin  the  Latin  school,  and  it  was  expected  that  the \nnumber  of  girls  would  be  smaller.  The  committee \nwas  astonished  to  find  that  they  had  twice  as  many \napplicants,  when  they  called  for  them.  Mayor  Ouincy \nopposed  the  girls'  high-school  on  the  ground  that  it \nwas  expensive,  and  that  \"  schools  requiring  high \nqualifications  as  the  condition  of  admission  are  essen- \ntially schools  for  the  benefit  comparatively  of  a  very \nfew  \"  ;  and  that  \"  the  higher  the  qualification  the \ngreater  the  exclusion  \"  ;  a  principle  which  would  cut \ndown  all  the  high-schools  at  a  blow.  Mayor  Quincy \nprofessed  to  wish  to  raise  the  standard  of  public  edu- \ncation ''  by  raising  the  standard  of  the  common \nschools,\"  apparently  not  perceiving  that  the  higher \nthe  standard  is  carried  the  smaller  the  number  of \npupils  must  be,  whatever  the  plan  employed. \n\nMayor  Quincy  said  that  the  \"  great  interest  of \nsociety  is  identified  with  her  common  schools,\"  and \nit  has  been  supposed  that  in  this  utterance  he  embod- \nied the  convictions  of  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  from \nthe  earliest  period.  This  is  not  exactly  correct,  for \nthere  was  no  school  supported  by  public  funds  that \ncorresponded  to  our  present  common  schools  for \nmore  than  half  a  century  after  the  settlement  of \nShawmut.     Four  years  after  the   landing   of  Win- \n\n\nPROGRESS   OF  EDUCATION:  44 1 \n\nthrop,  indeed,  a  Latin  school  was  set  up  as  a  train- \ning-school for  college  and  the  ministry,  and  for  boys  • \nonly.  The  common  English  branches  were  not \ntaught,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  our  ancestors  before \nthe  Revolution  that  their  daughters  had  any  need  of \nthe  education  that  boys  required. \n\nIt  was  in  1634  that  it  was  determined  to  have  a \nboys'  Latin  school,  and  accordingly  one  was  estab- \nlished on  a  street  which  still  bears  its  name.  It  did \na  great  work  ;  but  it  was  the  only  school  of  the  town \nuntil  1684,  and  at  that  time  the  population  had  in- \ncreased to  four  thousand  or  more.  One  Latin  school \nand  no  common  school  would  not  be  considered \nvery  ample  for  a  town  of  that  size  in  our  day  *  ;  and \nyet,  when  we  consider  the  history  of  the  forefathers, \nand  remember  the  trials  under  which  they  built  up \ntheir  community,  we  are  apt  to  exclaim  in  surprise \nat  the  enterprise  that  founded  so  good  a  school,  and \none  which  had  such  vitality  as  to  endure  through  the \nvicissitudes  of  centuries,  at  so  early  a  period. \n\nIn  1 71 3  there  were  five  town  schools  in  Boston, \nand  there  were  no  more  until  after  the  Revolution, \nthough  the  population  had  increased  to  some  eigh- \nteen thousand.  On  the  twenty-third  day  of  June, \n1 741,  when  a  count  was  made,  it  was  found  that  five \nhundred  and  thirty-five  pupils  (all  boys,  of  course) \nwere  in  attendance  at  the  schools.  Another  count \nwas  made  in  1772,  and  eight  hundred  and  twenty- \nthree  boys  were  found  in  their  places.     By  1800  the \n\n*  For  comparison  we  may  take  the  town  of  Lee,  in  Berkshire  County. \nIn  1784  four  schools  were  thought  necessary  ;  and  twenty  years  ago, \nwhen  its  population  had  increased  to  nearly  four  thousand,  it  had \ntwelve  common  and  two  high-schools. \n\n\n442  THE  NEW  ORDER  ESTABLISHED. \n\nnumber  of  schools  had  increased  to  seven,  and  there \nwere  nine  hundred  pupils  in  attendance.  It  was  in \n1789,  under  the  influence  of  Samuel  Adams,  that  the \nschool  system  was  reorganized,  and  the  girls  were \npermitted,  for  the  first  tim.e,  to  pick  up  the  few \ncrumbs  that  they  could  in  the  warmer  months,  from \nApril  to  October.  Up  to  this  time  there  was  but  one \ntext-book,  Dilworth's  Spelling-Book,  and  the  Bible \nfurnished  all  the  reading  necessary  ;  in  fact,  even \nthe  requirements  of  the  day  —  reading,  writing, \ngrammar,  and  ciphering — were  thought  by  many  to \nbe  excessive.  It  seems  a  ridiculously  small  curricu- \nlum to  our  eyes,  accustomed  to  the  long  lists  of \n'ologies,  which  our  youth  are  taught  to  apply  them- \nselves to. \n\nIt  is  impossible  here  to  trace  the  history  of  public \neducation  in  Boston  through  its  later  and  more  rapid \nstages.  It  was  broadened  by  adding  schools  for \nchildren  from  four  to  seven  years  of  age,  in  18 18, \nand  by  bringing  in  women  to  teach.  Up  to  that \ntime  it  was  not  known  that  women  were  \"  equal  to \nmen  as  teachers,  and  superior  to  them  in  training  the \ntastes  and  manners  of  their  pupils.\"  *  Under  the \ninfluence  of  Horace  Mann,  normal  schools  were \nfounded  for  the  training  of  women  who  wanted  to \nteach,  and  this  led  to  the  revival  in  1855  of  ^he  girls' \nhigh-school,  and  in  1877  to  the  establishment  of  the \ngirls'  Latin  school.  The  latter  movement  was  at- \ntended by  a  great  public  excitement.  The  women \nof  Boston  awoke  to  a  sense  of  their  disabilities,  ow- \ning to  the  long  exclusion  from  the  Latin  school,  and \n\n*  Winsor's  \"  Memorial  History,\"  vol.  iv.,  p.  246. \n\n\nWOMEN  GO    TO   COLLEGE.  443 \n\nthere  was  an  excited  discussion  in  the  newspapers \nand  in  the  halls  of  legislature.  It  was  found  that \nthough  the  statutes  had  always  declared  that  \"  all \" \nchildren  should  be  taught  in  public  schools,  that \n\"  youth  \"  were  to  be  instructed,  and  that  instruction \nin  Latin  and  Greek  was  to  be  for  the  \"  benefit  of  all \nthe  inhabitants,\"  the  laws  were  always  construed  to \nrefer  to  boys  only.  It  is  curious  to  note  that  when \nthe  Latin  school  was  established  in  1635,  it  was  for \nthe  \"  teaching  and  nurturing  of  children,\"  and  that \nthe  law  knew  no  \"  children  \"  but  boys  for  a  century \nand  a  half  and  more. \n\nAt  about  the  same  time,  an  arrangement  had  been \nmade  at  Cambridge  by  which  women  might  take  the \nexaminations  for  admission  to  Harvard  College,  and \nenter  upon  courses  of  study  under  the  professors  of \nthe  college  similar  to  those  conducted  for  the  young \nmen,  though  not  under  the  direct  auspices  of  the \ncollege  corporation,  and  there  were  other  opportuni- \nties for  their  classical  instruction,  for  Boston  Uni- \nversity accepted  them  as  students  on  the  same \nfooting  as  that  on  which  men  were  admitted  to  its \nclasses.  Great  progress  has  been  made  in  the  in- \nstruction of  women  since  the  days  of  Horace  Mann, \nand  his  influence  still  continues. \n\nMeantime  the  education  of  boys  was  vastly  im- \nproved. An  English  high-school  was  established \nin  1 82 1,  just  as  the  town  was  developing  into  the \ncity,  because  it  was  found  that  there  were  young \nmen  who  wished  to  \"  complete  a  good  English  educa- \ntion,\" though  they  did  not  intend  to  go  to  college. \nIn  1868,  elementary  evening  schools  were  begun,  in \n\n\n444  THE   NEW  ORDER   ESTABLISHED. \n\nwhich  newsboys,  bootblacks,  and  others  were  taught, \nand  the  following  year  there  was  an  evening  high- \nschool,  for  those  who  could  not  attend  day-schools. \nThere  followed  schools  for  deaf-mutes,  evening  in- \ndustrial schools,  kindergartens,  etc.  Among  the \nlatest  buildings  for  schools,  Boston  boasts  the  lar- \ngest structure  in  the  world  used  for  a  free  public \nschool.  It  is  the  High  and  Latin  School,  built  at  an \nexpense  of  three  quarters  of  a  million  dollars,  and \ndedicated  to  its  beneficent  uses  in  i88i. \n\nThe  school  system  has  reached  vast  proportions, \nespecially  since  great  additions  to  the  territory  of \nthe  city  have  been  made  by  annexation.  The  out- \nlays amount  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars \nyearly  ;  the  teachers  form  a  small  army  of  educated \nmen  and  women.  These  are  all  trained  for  their \nwork.  It  is  no  longer  the  custom,  as  once  it  was,  to \nmake  sure  that  the  candidate  possessed  sufificient \nbook  learning,  and  then  trust  to  Providence  for  his \nability  to  convey  his  knowledge  to  his  young  charge. \nBoston,  as  well  as  Massachusetts,  has  her  normal \nschool,  in  which  the  technical  skill  is  obtained  by \ncandidates,  and  the  entire  establishment  works  like  a \ngreat  machine,  into  which  the  raw  boy  or  girl  is  put \nat  the  age  of  five,  and  turned  out  at  the  proper  time \nfrom  the  English  High,  or  the  Latin  school,  fit  for \nbusiness  or  college.  Doubtless  the  machine  is  one \nthat  does  not  always  accomplish  perfect  work  ;  but \nit  is  watched  over  by  a  committee  of  men  and  wo- \nmen with  hearts,  who  wish  to  fit  the  instruction  to \nthe  wants  of  the  ever  var3nng  throng  that  is  before \nthem.     In  the  beginning,  the  teacher  of  the  Latin \n\n\nTHE  LOWELL  INSTITUTE.  445 \n\nschool  did  his  work  without  much  interference  that \nhistory  takes  account  of,  and  evidently  did  it  well. \nIn  time,  when  the  number  of  schools  grew,  the \nselectmen  took  upon  them  the  duty  of  watching \nand  directing  the  schools.  They  were  not  chosen \nbecause  they  knew  what  schools  should  be,  and  it \nwas  a  change  for  the  better,  in  1792,  when  the  town \nchose  twelve  good  men  to  attend  to  this  particular \nwork,  for  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  the  twelve  were \nselected  with  a  view  to  the  work  they  had  to  do. \nTheir  number  was  increased  first  to  twenty-four, \nthen  to  seventy-four,  and  afterwards  to  one  hundred \nand  sixteen,  until  it  became  apparent  that  unity  of \naction  could  not  be  attained  by  so  great  a  \"  com- \nmittee,\" and,  in  1876,  the  legislature  reduced  the \nnumber  to  the  mayor  and  twenty-four  others.  A \nsuperintendent  had  been  provided  for  in  1 851,  and \nhe  was  continued  ;  but  a  board  of  supervisors  with \nsalaries  was  added,  to  be  appointed  by  the  commit- \ntee. Methods  and  schemes  for  use  by  teachers  will \nimprove  still  further,  doubtless,  but  the  present  sys- \ntem of  supervision  by  a  small  committee,  with  tech- \nnical experts  employed  under  them,  will  probably \ncontinue  the  plan  under  which  the  schools  will  be \ncarried  on.  The  course  in  the  primary  schools  is \nthree  years  ;  that  of  the  grammar  school,  six  years  ; \nof  the  high-school,  three  ;  but  provision  is  made  for \nadvanced  instruction.  Boys  and  girls  attend  the \nsame  schools  in  the  first  years,  but  the  tendency  is \nto  separate  them  above  the  primary  grade. \n\nIn  the  year  1839  there  was  established,  under  pro- \nvisions in  the  will  of  John  Lowell  (son  of  Francis  C. \n\n\n446  THE  NEW  ORDER  ESTABLISHED. \n\nLowell,  for  whom  the  city  of  Lowell  received  its \nname),  one  of  the  characteristic  educational  institu- \ntions of  Boston,     One  half  of  Mr.  Lowell's  property, \namounting  to  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  dol- \nlars, was  set  aside  for  the  purpose  of  providing  free \nlectures  for  the  general  public,  and  free  instruction \nin   drawing   for  mechanics   and   artisans,  and  every \nyear  since   valuable   courses   of  lectures  have  been \ngiven   by   specialists   of   the  highest  renown,    while \nmany  have  been  instructed  in  drawing  in  the  school. \nIt  would  demand  a  volume  to  giv^e,  even  in  out- \nline, an  account  of  the  religious  life  of  Boston  in  the \nlast  century,  and  the  subject   must  be  passed  with \nbut  a  reference.     There,  and  in  Cambridge,  many  a \ntheological  battle   has  been  fought,  and  many  are \nthe  wounds  that   time  only  has   been  able  to  heal. \nAfter  the  quiet  of  the  generation  after  the  revolu- \ntionary  war,  there    arose   a   controversy   when   the \nRev.    Henry  Ware,   Sr.,  was   chosen  to   the    Hollis \nprofessorship  at    Harvard   College,  in    1808.     Then \nthere  followed,  some  ten  years  later,  the  era  when \nDr.   William    Ellery   Channing,  of  whom  Coleridge \nsaid  that  he  had  \"  the  love  of  wisdom  and  the  wis- \ndom of  love,\"  gained  his  position  as  leader  of  the  Uni- \ntarians and  the  most  eloquent  preacher  among  the \nclergy  of  that  body.     Avoiding  controversy  as  much \nas  possible  and   endeavoring  never  to  force  any  one \nto  violate  the  sacredness  of  conscience,  he  won  to \nhimself  a  large  following,  and   gave  to  the  Federal \nStreet   church   a  commanding   influence.       He  was \nfollowed  by  Everett,  and  Palfrey  and  Gannett  and \nmany  others    who    gave    strength    and    increase   to \n\n\nVARIOUS  CHURCHES.  447 \n\nthe  same  denomination.  Meantime  the  Trinitarian \nCongregationalists,  who  professed  to  hold  to  the \northodox  theology  of  the  fathers,  did  not  lack  stal- \nwart and  eloquent  as  well  as  learned  champions  of \ntheir  own,  and  the  names  of  Griffin  and  Jenks  and \nAdams  and  Beecher,  as  well  as  those  of  later \npreachers,  will  never  be  forgotten.  The  Episcopal \nChurch  also  grew  and  strengthened  itself ;  and  other \nreligious  bodies  rose  in  \"  the  paradise  of  ministers,\" \nas  Boston  was  called  of  old.  The  mental  activity  of \nthe  people  was  no  less  apparent  in  their  discussions \nof  every  form  of  belief  and  every  doctrine  of  every \ncreed,  than  it  was  in  the  early  days  when  there  was \nan  established  church  and  all  dissent  was  frowned \nupon  and  kept,  as  far  as  possible,  at  a  distance. \n\n\n'^^/^^ \n\n^/:^ \n\nv,vu.>j5y^ \n\nP? \n\n^^P \n\n:^ \n\n-u\".-''> \n\nj^^-a^^ \n\nf \n\ns \n\ni \n\nm \n\n1 \n\n4  ^■V^'^^^^ \n\n1 \n\n8 \n\n#1 \n\n41* \n\n1^ \n\nm \n\n^^^s \n\n^^ \n\n^r# \n\ni^-j^^'i^'^--^ \n\n^^i^'^fc \n\nfe \n\n=:^@*5r \n\n^ \n\n^ \n\nC \n\n\"2^ \n\nffi^ \n\nXXXI. \n\nCHANGING    BOUNDARY    LINES. \n\nWhen  Mr.  Quincy  declined  to  be  a  candidate  for \nthe  ofifice  he  had  so  admirably  filled,  the  Hon. \nHarrison  Gray  Otis  was  chosen  almost  unanimously. \nHe  had  long  been  a  public  man,  and  his  popularity \nhad  once  been  immense,  but  at  the  time  he  had  lost \nsomewhat  of  his  prestige.  He  had  been  active  in \nthe  Hartford  Convention,  all  the  members  of  which \nwere  looked  upon  with  suspicion,  and  in  his  first \ninaugural  address  he  attempted  to  vindicate  himself \nfrom  criticism. \n\nAn  era  of  great  commercial  progress  was  opening. \nThe  Erie  Canal  had  been  finished  in  1825  ;  but \ntwenty-two  years  before  that  another  had  been  con- \nstructed in  Massachusetts  which  established  water \ncommunication  with  Concord  in  New  Hampshire, \nseventy-five  miles.  When  the  great  waterway  of \nNew  York  was  finished,  steps  were  taken  in  Massa- \nchusetts to  see  if  it  were  possible  to  build  one  from \nBoston  to  the  Connecticut  River  and  thence  to  some \npoint  on  the  Hudson  near  the  junction  of  the  Erie \nCanal.  A  report  was  made  in  favor  of  a  route  by \nway  of  Fitchburg  and  through  a  tunnel  in  the \nHoosac  Mountain,  at  an  estimated  cost  of  some  six \n\n448 \n\n\nA   RAILWAY    TO    THE  HUDSON.  449 \n\nmillion  dollars.  The  tunnel  alone  was  expected  to \ncost  a  million  dollars.*  It  is  not  necessary  to  say \nthat  the  canal  was  not  built. \n\nMeantime,  news  of  the  proposed  railway  in  Eng- \nland between  Manchester  and  Liverpool  f  reached \nthis  country,  and  interested  the  builder  of  the \nBunker  Hill  monument,  which  was  begun  in  1825. \nHe  had  bought  a  granite  quarry  at  Ouincy,  and  now \nproposed  to  construct  a  railway  four  miles  to  tide- \nwater to  facilitate  his  work.  Great  opposition  was \nmade,  of  course,  but  finally  a  charter  was  obtained \nand  the  road  built.  In  October,  1826,  a  train  of  cars \ndrawn  by  horses  passed  over  the  whole  length  of  the \nroad.  Horses  continued  to  draw  the  cars  for  forty \nyears. \n\nThere  arose  immediately  a  railroad  party  in  Boston \nand  the  commonwealth,  opposed  to  the  canal  party, \nand  long  were  the  debates  that  followed.  A  com- \nmittee was  appointed  in  the  legislature  to  consider \nthe  feasibility  of  constructing  a  railway  to  the \nHudson.  The  committee  made  its  report  in  1827, \nthrough  its  chairman,  an  enthusiast  in  favor  of  the \nproject,  and  it  encountered  the  usual  fate  of  schemes \nfor  progress.  It  was  ridiculed,  one  very  sensible \neditor  writing  that  it  was  impracticable,  the  cost \nbeing  \"little  less  than  the  market  value  of  the  whole \nterritory  of  Massachusetts,\"  and  of  as  little  use \nwhen  completed  as  \"  a  railroad   from   Boston  to  the \n\n*  The  State  found  that  it  had  expended  some  thirteen  million \ndollars  on  the  tunnel  and  the  tracks  necessary  for  the  railway,  when, \nmany  years  after  this,  the  work  was  accomplished. \n\nf  This  road  was  not  opened  until  September  15,  1830  ;  but  it  used \nsteam  instead  of  horse-power. \n\n\n450 \n\n\nCHANGING  BOUNDARY  LINES. \n\n\nmoon.\"  The  agitation  was  continued,  however,  and \nfinally  roads  were  built  to  Providence,  to  Lowell, \nand  to  Worcester.  After  that  they  were  extended \nin  every  direction,  and  Boston  men  were  not  satisfied \nwith  what  they  could  do  in  their  own  State  ;  they \ncontributed  capital  towards  making  roads  in  all \nportions  of  the  country.  Under  their  management \nlong  lines  have  been  successfully  built  and  operated \n\nBOSTON  AND  WORCESTER  RAIIi  ROAD. \n\n\nTHE  Passenger  Cars  will  continue  lo  run  daily  from  the \nDnpol  near  Washington  street,  to  Newton,  at  6  and \n10  o'cJock,  A.iM.  and  at  34  o'clock,  P.  M.  and \n\nReluruing,  leave  Newton  at  7  and  a  quarter  past  11,  A.M. \nnnJ  a  quarter  belbre  5,  P.M. \n\nTickets  for.  the  passagfe  either  way  may  be  bad  at  the \nTiclici  Office,  N0.GI7,  Washington  street  5  price  37^  cents \neach  ;  and  lor  ilwj  return  passage,  of  the  Master  of  the  Cdr5, \nNewton. \n\nBv  order  of  the  Presideul  and  Direclore. \n\na  29  episif  F.  A.  WILLIAMS.  Clerk. \n\nAUVERTISEMENT    OF    THE    WORCESTER    RAILROAIJ \nFROM   THE   PAPERS    OF   THE   DAY. \n\n\nin  the  South  and  West,  as  well  as  in  the  North. \nThe  road  towards  Worcester  was  opened  as  far  as \nNewton,  May  i6,  1834,  and  on  the  Fourth  of \nJuly,  1835,  it  was  formally  opened  to  Worcester \nitself.  The  roads  to  Providence  and  Lowell,  were \nopened  in  June,  1835.  It  was  not  until  1841  that \nthe    road   to   Albany,  then    known   as   the  Western \n\n\nTHE   SECOND  ''  CENTENNIAL.\"  45  I \n\nRailroad,  was  opened  its  entire  length.  Then  it \nwas  announced  that  \"the  magnificent  system  of \nroads  extending  from  a  common  centre  at  Boston  \" \nand  reaching  to  four  adjoining  States  was  nearly \ncompleted. \n\nWhile  these  great  industrial  movements  were  in \nprogress,  Boston  passed  her  two  hundredth  birthday, \nand  celebrated  it  with  vigor  and  great  ceremony. \nOn  the  morning  of  the  seventeenth  of  September, \n1830,  the  city  government  took  possession  of  the \napartments  that  had  just  been  provided  for  the \npurpose  in  the  Old  State  House  at  the  head  of \nState  Street,  and  after  an  address  by  Mayor  Otis, \nwent  in  procession  under  escort  of  the  Ancient  and \nHonorable  Artillery  Company  to  the  Old  South \nchurch,  where  ex-Mayor  Quincy,  then  president  of \nHarvard  College,  delivered  an  oration,  and  Charles \nSprague  read  a  poem.  The  address  of  Mr.  Quincy  is \nnoteworthy  on  account  of  the  details  which  it  gives \nconcerning  the  motives  of  the  Fathers  in  coming  to \nthe  New  World.  We  have  already  seen  that,  as  Mr. \nQuincy  now  said,  \"  civil  independence  was  as  truly \ntheir  object  as  religious  liberty,\"  but  doubtless  the \nstatement  fell  upon  wondering  ears,  for  it  had  been \nunderstood  that  \"  religious  liberty\"  was  their  sole \npurpose  in  seeking  American  shores.  Mr.  Quincy \nrightly  traced  the  desire  for  independence  directly  to \nWinthrop  and  his  companions,  who  \"  by  the  magic \nof  their  daring\"  transmuted  \"a  private  act  of  incor- \nporation into  a  civil  constitution  of  a  state,\"  though \nfrom  the  circumstances  of  the  case  they  could  not \nannounce  their  full  purpose  at  the  time. \n\n\n452  CHANGING  BOUNDARY  LINES. \n\nThe  impetus  given  to  manufactures  during  the \nmayoralty  of  Mr.  Quincy  is  seen  in  the  establishment \nof  two  societies  for  the  encouragement  of  science \nand  the  arts.  The  New  England  Society  for  the \nPromotion  of  Manufactures  and  the  Mechanic  Arts \ndates  from  1826,  and  in  1827  the  Boston  Mechanics' \nInstitute  was  founded,  for  the  promotion  of  science \nand  the  useful  arts  by  means  of  lectures  and  other \ninstrumentalities. \n\nThe  interests  of  the  people  became  more  and \nmore  extensive  ;  they  began  to  make  lithographs, \nchain  cables,  pianos,  ships,  ferry-boats,  printing- \npresses,  locomotives,  watches,  sewing-machines,  boots \nand  shoes,  organs,  seamless  bags,  and  almost  every \nother  article  that  nineteenth-century  civilization \nrequires.  They  widened  out  in  every  direction  ;  they \nwent  to  Rhode  Island  and  wove  woollen  goods  on \npower-looms  ;  they  built  factory  towns  on  the  Merri- \nmac,  and  called  them  after  prominent  citizens, \nLowell  and  Lawrence,  and  then  they  made  broad- \ncloths, doeskins,  cambric  and  flannels,  calicoes  and \nalpacas,  paper,  and  steam-engines,  railway  cars,  and \ncarriages,  and  clothing,  employing  men  and  women \nby  the  thousand.  Time  would  fail  us  to  tell  of  the \nplaces  to  which  the  Boston  men  went  in  their \nenterprise,  and  the  articles  that  they  laid  their \nhands  to  to  make.  They  did  not  confine  them- \nselves to  the  continent,  nor  to  the  hemisphere,  but \nwent  everywhere,  impelled  by  their  inherited \nenterprise,  and  brought  home  the  products  of  every \nclime  and  every  tribe. \n\nAt  the  time  that  the  present    State  House  was \n\n\nTHE   NEW  STATE  HOUSE. \n\n\n453 \n\n\nbegun  on  John  Hancock's  pasture  in  1795,  the \nappearance  of  the  promontory  was  not  very  different \nfrom  what  it  was  when  Blaxton  built  his  small  house \non  the  southwestern  slope  of  Beacon  Hill ;  but  it  was \ndestined  soon  to  lose  most  of  the  traits  that  character- \nized it  then.     The  State    House  was  at  first   over- \n\n\nTHE   REAR  OF   THE   STATE-HOUSE,  AND  THE   MONUMENT,   SHOWING \nTHE  REMOVAL  OF  THE  HILL  (181I-I2). \n\n\ntopped  by  the  sugar-loaf  summit  of  the  hill  which \nwas  crowned  by  a  doric  column  erected  five  years \nbefore,  after  designs  of  Charles  Bulfinch,  on  the  site \nof  the  ancient  beacon.  The  base  of  this  monument \n(which  was  of  brick  and  stucco)  rested  on  the  sum- \nmit, which  was  some  seventy  feet    higher    than  at \n\n\n454  CHANGING  BOUNDARY  LINES. \n\npresent.  The  ascent  from  the  north  was  so  steep \nthat  wooden  steps  were  necessary,  but  they  did  not \nreach  very  far,  and  the  rest  of  the  ascent  was  made \nby  means  of  footholds  worn  in  the  grassy  surface. \nWe  have  already  seen  that  this  hill  was  cast  into  the \nsea  to  fill  up  Mill  Cove,  and  add  to  the  territory \navailable  for  building.  The  other  hills  followed  in \nturn,  and  last  of  all  Fort  Hill  was  ordered  to  be \nlevelled  in  1869,  and  after  three  years  of  digging  it \nwas  no  more. \n\nIt  was  not  the  levelling  of  its  hills  however,  which \nmade  the  greatest  change  in  the  appearance  of \nBoston.  The  \"  Back  Bay  \"  improvement  has  given \nthe  city  nearly  seven  hundred  acres  of  additional \nspace  for  expansion.  The  cry  against  the  \"  Back \nBay  Nuisance,\"  to  which  we  have  referred,*  that \nbegan  to  go  up  in  1849,  caused  the  legislature  to \ntake  possession  of  the  region,  and  to  make  arrange- \nments for  reclaiming  and  purifying  it.  The  late \nArthur  Oilman,  one  of  the  architects  of  Boston,  pre- \npared a  plan  for  laying  out  and  filling  in  the \nterritory,  and  in  1857  operations  were  begun  in \nearnest.  The  most  elegant  homes  in  the  city  have \nsince  been  erected  on  the  \"  made  \"  land,  and  the \nparks  and  thoroughfares  which  have  been  constructed \ngive  Boston  preeminence  above  the  cities  of  America \nfor  beauty  and  taste. \n\nThe  eleventh  person  to  fill  the  office  of  mayor  was  a \nson  of  the  second  mayor,  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.  His  term \nof  office  is  rendered  notable  from  the  fact  that  he \nwas  able  to  furnish  to  the  city  that  supply  of  water \n\n*  See  jjp.  408,  409. \n\n\nTHE   BA  CK  BA  Y  REGION. \n\n\n455 \n\n\nwhich  his  father  had  pleaded  for  in  vain.  On  the \ntwenty-fifth  of  October,  i  S48,  the  water  from  Cochit- \nuate  Lake  was  turned  into  the  Frog  Pond  on  the \nCommon,  rushing  to  the  height  of  eighty  feet  amid \nthe  triumphant  plaudits  of  the   people.     An  ode  by \n\n\nTHE  MONUMENT  FKUM  TEMPLE  AND  DERNE  STREETS  (1811-12). \n\n\nthe  poet  Lowell  was  written  for  the  occasion.  Mr. \nQuincy  had  some  of  the  traits  of  his  father,  and  the \nbusiness  of  his  office  was  conducted  with  energy  and \nsuccess.  He  was  in  1847  authorized  to  make  con- \ntracts for  filling  in  the  flats  at  the  south  side  of  the \n\n\n456  CHANGING  BOUNDARY  LINES. \n\n\"  Neck,\"  and  in  consequence  the  outline  of  the  city \nwas  considerably  changed  in  that  direction,  and  its \nfinances  improved  by  the  sales  that  followed.  The \npolice  force  was  reorganized  and  put  upon  a  more \neffective  footing,  and  progress  was  made  in  school \nmanagement  under  the  lead  of  suggestions  made  by \nHorace  Mann  and  George  B.  Emerson. \n\nThe  following  list  gives  the  names  of  all  of  the  may- \nors, with  the  dates  at  which  they  took  up  the  duties \nof  of^ce  :   1822,  John  Phillips  ;   1823,  Josiah  Ouincy ; \n1829,    Harrison    Gray    Otis;     1832,    Charles    Wells; \n1834,  Theodore  Lyman,  Jr.  ;   1836,  Samuel  T.  Arm- \nstrong;   1837,  Samuel  Atkins  Eliot  ;    1840,  Jonathan \nChapman;    1843,    Martin    Brimmer;    1845,   Thomas \nA.  Davis;    1846,  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.  ;    1849,  John  P- \nBigelow  ;   1852,   Benjamin  Seaver  ;   1854,  Jerome  V. \nC.Smith;   1856,  Alexander  H.   Rice;    1858,   Freder- \nick W.   Lincoln,  Jr.  ;   1861,   Joseph   M.   Wightman \n1863,   Frederick  W.   Lincoln  ;   1867,  Otis  Norcross \n1868,  Nathaniel  B.  Shurtleff ;    1871,  William  Gaston \n1873,    Henry    L.    Pierce;     1874,    Samuel    C.   Cobb \n1877,  Frederick  O.  Prince  ;   1878,   Henry  L.   Pierce \n1879,  Frederick  O.  Prince  ;    1882,  Samuel  A.  Greene \n1883,  Albert    Palmer;    1884,   Augustus   P.    Martin \n1885,  Hugh  O'Brien  ;    1889,  Thomas  N.  Hart. \n\n\nXXXII. \n\nINDIVIDUALISM    AND    OTHER    ISMS. \n\n*'  It  is  a  wonderful  property  of  the  human  mind,\" \nsaid  Coleridge,  the  seer,  \"  that  when  once  a  momen- \ntum has  been  given  to  it  in  a  fresh  direction,  it  pur- \nsues the  new  path  with  obstinate  perseverance,  in \nall  conceivable  bearings,  to  its  utmost  extremes.\" \nThe  religion  of  New  England  was  individual ;  \"  the \nchurch  existed  independent  of  its  pastor  \"  ;  \"  each \none  of  the  brethren  possessed  equal  rights  with  the \nelders \"  ;  every  individual  carried  in  his  breast  a \nmonitor  who  interpreted  for  him  the  will  of  God, \nand  he  felt  himself  a  judge  of  the  orthodoxy  of  his \ncompanions,  as  well  as  of  the  elders  whom  he  elected \nto  be  over  the  church  that  he'  united  to  constitute.\" \n\nMohammed  was  wont  to  assert  that  the  multi- \nplicity of  sects  in  Islam  attested  its  truth.  If  we \naccept  this  statement,  we  need  go  no  further  to \nprove  the  truth  of  the  religion  of  Puritanism  and \nSeparatism.  They  contained  in  themselves  the  seeds \nof  schism.  There  were  always  in  Boston  men  and \nwomen  looking  for  some  new  light,  and  ever  and \nanon  congratulating  themselves  that  they  had  put \nthemselves    under    its    direction.      Boston    was    the \n\n*  See  Bancroft's  \"  History  of  the  United  States,\"  vol.  i.,  chap.  x. \n\n457 \n\n\n458  INDIVIDUALISM  AND    OTHER   ISMS. \n\nproper  sphere  for  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Hutchinson  ; \nRoger  WilHams  found  followers,  though  he  did  not \nfind  enough  to  enable  him  to  fight  with  success \nagainst  others  who  felt  that  their  light  was  better \nthan  his.  The  Separatists  established  a  tendency \nwhen  they  left  the  Church  of  England  ;  the  Puritans \nfollowed  when  they  gave  up  the  usages  of  the  old \ncountry  on  the  soil  of  a  new  world.  The  tendency \nwas  carried  wherever  the  Puritan  and  the  Separatist \nwent,  but  Boston  became  the  peculiar  home  of  isms \nof  every  sort. \n\nThe  isms  that  have  made  themselves  most  promi- \nnent during  the  past  century  in  Boston  are  Transcen- \ndentalism, Abolitionism,  and  Woman  Suffragism. \nIt  is  not  needful  to  enumerate  others,  for  the  daily \nnewspapers  give  full  notices  of  the  gatherings  at \nwhich  their  leaders  attempt  to  make  disciples  and \nto  enlighten  the  world  in  regard  to  their  peculiari- \nties. The  historian  of  Transcendentalism  says  that \nNew  England  \"  furnished  the  only  plot  of  ground \non  the  planet  \"  where  that  form  of  philosophy  had \na  chance  to  show  what  it  was  and  what  it  proposed.* \nOf  all  New  England,  Boston  was  the  focus  about \nwhich  the  interests  of  the  new  philosophy  centred. \n\nThe  intellectual  revival  in  New  England,  which \nmarks  the  beginning  of  our  century,  was  contempo- \nrary with  a  forward  movement  in  literature  and \nphilosophy  that  began,  so  far  as  the  beginning  of \nsuch  a  movement  can  be  marked,  at  about  the  acces- \nsion of  President  Kirkland  to  the  head  of  Harvard \n\n*  \"Transcendentalism  in  New  England,\"  a  history,  by  Octavius \nBrooks  Frothingham,  p.  104. \n\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM.  459 \n\nCollege.  Though  the  scholars  with  which  he  sur- \nrounded himself  gave  a  strong  impulse  to  the  young \nmen  under  their  care,  they  did  not  begin  at  that \nearly  period  to  study  the  German  writers.  It  was \nColeridge  who  introduced  German  philosophy  to \nEngland.  In  1829  President  Marsh,  of  the  Univer- \nsity of  Vermont,  published  the  \"  Aids  to  Reflection,\" \nwith  a  masterly  essay  upon  it,  which  was  the  first \nfully  elaborated  estimate  of  the  philosophical  opin- \nions of  the  English  seer.  At  an  early  period  Ralph \nWaldo  Emerson  took  an  interest  in  the  speculations \nof  Coleridge,  whom  he  declared  to  be  \"  a  citizen  of \nthe  universe,\"  who  took  a  post  at  the  centre  and \nsent  sovereign  glances  to  the  circumference  of  things. \nHe  was,  Emerson  thought,  \"  one  more  human  soul \nbursting  the  narrow  boundaries  of  antique  specula- \ntion, and  mad  to  know  the  secrets  of  the  unknown \nworld  on  whose  brink  it  is  sure  it  is  standing.\"  It \nwas  not  long  after  this,  in  1832,  that  Mr.  Emerson \nfound  it  necessary  to  resign  his  position  as  a  Uni- \ntarian preacher,  in  which  he  followed  the  example  of \nColeridge,  though  he  did  not,  like  Coleridge,  enter \nthe  Episcopal  Church. \n\nThe  influence  of  Transcendentalism  is  apparent  in \nGeorge  Ripley,  Mr.  Olcott,  Miss  Margaret  Fuller, \nand  Theodore  Parker,  each  of  whom  had  an  indi- \nvidual character.  All  of  these,  like  many  a  writer \nof  less  note,  were  filled  with  the  same  \"  enthusiasm \nof  humanity,\"  and  longed  to  exert  an  influence  for \ngood  in  the  world,  but  not  through  the  channels \nthat  had  been  usual  for  such  efforts.  They  became \nthe  radicals,  the  \"  come-outers,\"  the  ardent  laborers \n\n\n460  INDIVIDUALISM  AND    OTHER   ISMS. \n\nfor  liberty,  for  freedom,  for  the  abolition  of  slavery, \nfor  humanity  everywhere  and  in  every  manner. \n*'  Earnest  men  and  women  no  doubt  they  were ; \nbetter  educated  men  and  women  did  not  live  in \nAmerica  ;  they  were  well  born,  well  nurtured,  well \nendowed.\"  So  speaks  the  historian  of  the  move- \nment, and  he  adds :  \"  Their  philosophy  may  be  un- \nsound, but  it  produced  noble  characters  and  humane \nives.    \" \n\nTo  trace  the  history  of  the  men  and  women  who \nfelt  the  influence  of  this  movement  in  Boston  would \nbe  to  give  an  account  of  the  contemporaries  of \nEmerson  who  became  eminent  in  philosophy,  in \npolitics,  in  letters,  with  but  few  exceptions.  It \nwould  be  necessary,  also,  to  describe  the  movement \nthat  is  recognized  by  the  name  of  its  habitation  at \n\"  Brook  Farm.\"  The  men  and  women  who,  in  1841, \nwent  to  that  rural  retreat, f  and  tried,  by  leaving  a \nworld  of  institutions,  and  returning  to  first  principles, \nto  reconstruct  the  social  order  under  the  inspiration \nand  direction  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Ripley,  fully \nexpected  \"  to  promote  the  great  purpose  of  human \nculture,\"  to  \"  apply  the  principle  of  justice  and  love \nto  the  social  organization  in  accordance  with  the \nlaws  of  Divine  Providence,\"  to  \"  substitute  a  system \nof  brotherly  cooperation  for  one  of  selfish  competi- \ntion,\" and  to  secure  the  rights  of  the  individual. \nThey  had  no  doubt  that  they  had  laid  a  foundation \nfor  a  social    structure    that    would    approach    more \n\n*  Frothingham's  \"  Transcendentalism,\"  p.  383. \nf  It  was  on  the  borders  of  Newton  and  Dedham,  within  the  present \nlimits  of  the  city  of  Boston. \n\n\nABOLUTIONISM.  46 1 \n\nnearly  the  ideal  than  any  that  had  ever  existed. \nThey  felt  certain  that  they  were  \"  men  of  common- \nsense,\"  holding  in  their  hands  the  means  of  escape \nfrom  the  evils  of  society,  then  suffering  from  the \neffects  of  \"  civilization,\"  as  well  as  \"  from  the  more \nfrightful  state  to  which  in  all  countries  it  is  hurry- \ning.\" The  first  stage  of  the  experiment,  though  it \nwas  not  looked  upon  as  an  \"  experiment,\"  so  fully \nwere  its  votaries  convinced  of  its  success,  was  en- \nthusiastic ;  the  second  systematic  ;  but  success  did \nnot  attend  it,  and  after  a  few  years  it  dissolved,  the \nlast  to  leave  being  Mr.  Ripley,  who  made  honorable \nand  self-denying  arrangements  to  cancel  all  obliga- \ntions to  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  then  entered  upon \nhis  notable  career  as  a  critic  in  New  York. \n\nThe  members  of  the  Brook  Farm  association \nfound  that  whether  it  was  necessary  to  get  them- \nselves out  of  the  world  in  order  to  set  it  right,  or  was \nnot,  it  was  impracticable  to  carry  on  a  reform  at \nthat  period  of  history  in  that  particular  way.  They \nhad  not  given  themselves  very  much  to  the  next  ism \nto  be  mentioned.  The  friends  of  abolitionism  called \nin  vain  for  a  positive  utterance  from  them  in  favor  of \nthe  cause  to  which  William  Lloyd  Garrison  had  be- \ngun to  devote  his  energies  in  1 829.  They  asserted  that \nthey  stood  upon  broader  ground  ;  it  was  the  ground \nof  the  Golden  Rule,  which  would  do  away  with \nevery  form  of  slavery  and  wrong.  On  the  first  of \nJanuary,  1831,  Mr.  Garrison  issued  the  first  number \nof  his  journal.  The  Liberator,  and  from  that  time \nuntil  emancipation  was  declared  he  gave  his  thoughts \nunreservedly  to  the  abolition  of  slavery.     He  was  an \n\n\n462  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   OTHER  ISMS. \n\n\"  obscure  individual  \"  at  first,  and  seemed  destined \nto  have  little  success,  but  he  kept  at  his  work  un- \ndaunted by  threats  and  indignities,  and  lived  to  see \nthe  reform  that  he  had  labored  for  a  reality.  He \nsent  his  paper  to  the  South,  and  the  Mayor  of \nBaltimore  wrote  to  Mayor  Otis,  asking  him  to  sus- \npend its  publication.  Mr,  Otis  replied  that  his \nofificers  \"  had  ferreted  out  the  paper  and  its  editor; \nwhose  office  was  an  obscure  hole ;  his  only  visible \nauxiliary  a  negro  boy ;  his  supporters  a  few  ignorant \npersons  of  all  colors.\"  This  was  a  pretty  true  de- \nscription of  Mr.  Garrison's  editorial  office.  One  of \nhis  life-long  friends  afterwards  said  that  it  bore \n\"  an  aspect  of  slovenly  decay.\"  He  describes  \"  the \ndingy  walls,  the  small  windows,  bespattered  with \nprinter's-ink  ;  the  press  standing  in  one  corner,  the \ncomposing-stands  opposite  ;  the  long  editorial  and \nmailing  table  covered  with  newspapers  ;  the  bed  of \nthe  editor  and  publisher  on  the  floor.\"  Such  was  the \nplace  from  which  the  paper  went  out  in  support  of \nthis  ism. \n\nMr.  Garrison  was  not  accustomed  to  prophesy \nsmooth  things,  though  personally  he  was  one  of  the \ncalmest,  the  kindliest  and  most  courteous  of  gentle- \nmen. He  was  inspired  by  a  single  thought.  He \nasked,  \"  Is  slavery  right  or  wrong?\"  and  satisfied \nhimself  that  it  was  wrong.  He  then  fell  back  upon \nthe  belief  that  it  was  the  particular  wrong  that  he  was \nto  fight,  and  that,  being  wrong,  no  compromise  was \npossible.  Immediate  emancipation,  leaving  the  re- \nsults to  Providence,  was  his  conviction,  and  upon  it \nhe  acted  with  vigor.     He  said  :  \"  I  zuill  be  heard  !  \" \n\n\nA    MOB   OF    WELL-DRESSED    GENTLEMEN.    463 \n\nBefore  the  year  1831  closed,  on  the  thirteenth  of \nNovember,  a  meeting  was  held  in  the  office  of \nSamuel  E.  Sewall,*  a  descendant  of  the  judge  who \nwrote  \"  The  Selling  of  Joseph,\"  for  the  purpose  of \nforming  an  Anti-Slavery  Society.  Other  meetings \nwere  held,  the  society  was  formed,  and  the  move- \nment which  had  begun  in  \"  an  obscure  hole  \"  was \ntaken  up  by  some  of  the  most  promising  men  and \nwomen  of  Boston.  It  was  something  tangible,  and \nswept  many  into  it  who  could  not  be  touched  by  the \ndeep  generalizations  of  transcendentalism  ;  it  touched \na  subject  that  every  man  was  able  to  appreciate. \n\nStill,  everybody  in  Boston  did  not  sympathize \nwith  Garrison  at  this  time  or  at  any  other.  In  1835, \nindeed,  a  meeting  of  wealthy  and  intelligent  citizens \nwas  held  in  Faneuil  Hall  to  protest  against  any \ninterference  with  slavery,  and  to  condemn  the  meth- \nods of  the  Abolitionists ;  and  finally,  in  October  of \nthat  year,  a  great  stir  was  raised  by  a  statement  that \nGeorge  Thompson,  an  active  English  Abolitionist, \nhad  declared  that  \"  every  slaveholder  ought  to  have \nhis  throat  cut,\"  In  the  midst  of  this  excitement  a \nmeeting  of  the  Boston  Female  Anti-Slavery  Society \nwas  held  in  the  building  in  which  TJie  Liberator  was \nprinted,  and  a  mob  of  \"  well-dressed  gentlemen \" \ndetermined  that  Mr.  Thompson,  who  was  falsely \nannounced  to  address  the  gathering,  should  be  pun- \nished. When  it  was  found  that  Mr.  Thompson  was \nnot  present,  the  mob  clamored  for  Mr.  Garrison,  and \ndragged  him  through  the  streets  until  he  was  res- \ncued by  the  officers  of  the  law  and  placed  in  jail  for \n*  Mr.  Sewall  died  in  December.  1888. \n\n\n464  INDIVIDUALISM  AND    OTHER   ISMS. \n\nsecurity.  The  outrage  brought  Mr.  Garrison  into \ngreater  prominence.  The  inhabitants  generally  were \nnot  sorry  that  the  meeting  had  been  broken  up. \nMr.  Garrison  himself  was  made  even  more  fixed \nthan  before  in  his  firm  determination.  Other  citi- \nzens rose  and  took  his  part,  and  the  cause  that  he \nhad  at  heart  progressed. \n\nBoston  was  now  thoroughly  aroused.  Edward \nEverett,  who  was  then  governor,  took  up  the  sub- \nject, and  in  his  message  to  the  legislature  in  Janu- \nary, 1836,  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  good  of \nthe  slave  and  the  stability  of  the  Union  were  endan- \ngered by  the  anti-slavery  movement.  The  legis- \nlatures of  slave  States  had  desired  that  it  might  be \nmade  a  penal  offence  to  speak  or  write  against  slavery \nanywhere  in  the  Union,  and  Mr.  Everett  thought  that \nthe  Abolitionists  were  committing  misdemeanors  by \nsuch  efforts  as  they  made,  for  they  tended  to  excite \nthe  slaves  to  insurrection.  There  was  a  legislative \n\"  hearing,\"  and  a  report  was  made  against  the \nAbolitionists  ;  but  it  was  laid  on  the  table  and  never \nacted  upon.  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  this  hearing \nthat  the  Rev.  Wm.  Ellery  Channing,  the  eloquent \nand  renowned  pastor  of  the  Federal  Street  church, \ntook  pains  to  show  his  warm  sympathy  with  the \nopponents  of  slavery.  Congress  took  the  matter  up, \nand  the  discussion  passed  far  beyond  the  limits  of \nBoston. \n\nIn  1837,  after  the  killing  of  Mr.  Lovejoy  at  Alton, \nthere  was  an  exciting  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall,  at \nwhich  one  person  placed  the  \"murderers  of  Alton \nside  by  side  with  Otis  and   Hancock  and   Quincy \n\n\nWENDELL   PHILLIPS  AROUSED.  465 \n\nand  Adams.\"  This  stirred  the  young  heart  of  Wen- \ndell Phillips,  who  rose  and  made  his  first  speech, \nwhich  gave  him  rank  among  the  orators  of  the  land. \nThere  was  over-excitement  on  both  sides ;  the \nchurch  was  denounced  as  a  \"  brotherhood  of  thieves,\" \nthe  constitution  of  the  United  States  was  cursed  as \na  \"covenant  with  death,\"  and  in  1844  Garrison \nand  those  who  followed  him  declared  for  \"  No  union \nwith  slaveholders,\"  thus  taking  up  the  cry  of  seces- \nsion, which  had  been  a  favorite  with  the  dissatisfied \nwhenever  union  became  irksome.  Parties  were \nformed  in  national  politics:  the  \"  Liberty  Party,\"  in \n1839;  t^^s  \"Free-Soil  Party,\"  in  1848;  and  finally, \nin  1856,  the  \"  Republican  Party,\"  said  to  have  been \nproposed  the  previous  year  by  William  H.  Seward, \nof  New  York,  In  1848,  Charles  Sumner  took  his \nplace  among  the  Free-Soilers. \n\nLike  Theodore  Parker,  John  G.  Palfrey,  and  John \nAlbion  Andrew,  the  \"war  governor\"  of  Massachu- \nsetts, Mr.  Sumner  did  not  agree  with  Garrison  in \nopposition  to  the  Union  and  the  constitution,  and \nthe  event  shows  that  his  calmer  judgment  was  cor- \nrect.* Mr.  Sumner  was  a  native  of  Boston,  born \nJanuary  6,  181 1,  and  had  shown  his  anti-slavery \nprinciples  before  this  time,  though  he  was  not \na  member  of  the  Abolition  society. \n\nThere  were  constant  meetings ;   the  papers  were \n\nfilled  with  incendiary  articles  ;    fugitive  slaves  were \n\n*  Mr.  Palfrey,  who  was  a  member  of  Congress  when  Robert  C. \nWinthrop,  of  Boston,  was  Speaker  of  the  House,  said  in  one  of  his \nspeeches  :  \"If  the  slaveholders  insist  that  the  Union  and  slavery  can- \nnot live  together,  they  may  be  taken  at  their  own  word  ;  but  it  is  the \nUnion  that  must  stand  I  \" \n\n\n466  INDIVIDUALISM  AND    OTHER   ISMS. \n\nbrought  upon  the  platforms  and  into  the  churches \nto  tell  their  thrilling  tales  of  suffering  and  escape; \nand,    as    in     earlier    days    Samuel    Adams    sought \nto    keep    the    citizens    up    to    the    point    of    indig- \nnation   necessary   for    carrying    out    his    scheme    of \nrevolution,    so    now    Mr.    Garrison    left    no    means \nunemployed   that   would    help    bring    them   to    the \nposition  that  he  had  taken  of  antagonism  to  what \nhe  considered  a  national  wrong  and  a  deep  disgrace. \nIn  1854  the  Fugitive-Slave  act  was  denounced  at \na  convention  of  members  of  the  Free-Soil  party  in \nBoston  ;  and  at  about  the  same  time  \"  The  Massa- \nchusetts  Emigrant  Aid  Association  \"  was  chartered \nwith   a   nominal   capital   of    five   million   dollars,   to \nsend    free-State    emigrants    to    the    territories,    and \nespecially  to  Kansas.     This  association  gave  way  to \nanother  and  more  practicable  one,  which  under  the \nguidance  and  with  the  support  of  the  late  Amos  A. \nLawrence  and  his  associates  began  to  send  out  men, \nAugust    17,    1854.     Other  parties   followed,   singing \nthe  words  of  Mr.  Whittier: \n\n\"We  cross  the  prairie,  as  of  old \nThe  Pilgrims  crossed  the  sea, \nTo  make  the  West,  as  they  the  East, \nThe  homestead  of  the  free.\" \n\nThe  history  of  the  Kansas  struggle  belongs  to \nother  pages ;  it  brought  to  Boston  at  one  time  and \nanother  all  the  men  who  were  interested  in  that \nregion.  Hither  John  Brown,  of  Ossawattomie,  for- \nmerly a  Massachusetts  wool-dealer,  came  to  get  sup- \nport and  comfort,  though  his  method  of  making  Kan- \nsas free,  by  exterminating  slavery  \"  with  gun,  pike, \n\n\nWOMAN  SUFFRAGE.  ^^67 \n\nand  sword,\"  was  quite  opposite  to  the  peaceful  mode \nof  the  company  that  Mr.  Lawrence  directed.  Boston \nnever  became  a  convert  to  all  of  the  views  of  the \nAbolitionists,  but  it  never  ceased  to  respect  Mr. \nGarrison,  their  leader,  for  his  personal  character,  and \nit  honored  him  for  the  manner  of  his  public  life  in \nseeking  peace  and  good-will  after  his  great  fight \nwas  accomplished.  A  colossal  statue  in  bronze  was \nerected  to  his  memory  in  the  \"  court  end  \"  of  the  city. \n\nWoman  suffragism  is  the  only  other  ism  that  we \ncan  touch.  The  women  of  Boston  have  since  1854 \nbeen  moving  with  some  vigor  to  obtain  political \nrights.  We  have  seen  that  in  the  matter  of  educa- \ntion they  had  been  almost  utterly  neglected  during \nthe  earlier  periods.  In  spite  of  this  fact  they  man- \naged to  show  considerable  literary  ability  and  mental \nstrength,  if  not  power  of  the  highest  kind.  They  have \nafter  long  effort  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  right  of \nsuffrage  so  far  as  it  relates  to  education,  and  at  the \nlatest  election,  that  of  December,  1888,  they  exer- \ncised a  great  influence.  The  occasion  was  one  that \ncalled  forth  all  of  their  feelings.  A  certain  text- \nbook in  history  had  been  dropped  from  those  in  use \nin  the  schools,  and  a  teacher  transferred  from  one \npost  to  another,  through  the  too  great  influence,  as \nwas  said,  of  the  Catholic  clergy.  Women  by  the \nthousand  qualified  themselves  to  vote,  and  the  day \nwas  carried  for  the  Protestant  candidates. \n\nThe  campaign  that  preceded  this  election  was \ncharacterized  by  much  of  the  violent  oratory  that \nhad  been  heard  when  slavery  had  been  the  object  of \nattack.  It  recalled  the  excitement  of  1834,  when  it \nwas  averred  that  the  Ursuline  Convent,  which  stood \n\n\n468  INDIVIDUALISM  AND   OTHER  ISMS. \n\nin  the  present  limits  of  Somerville,  was  injurious  to \nthe  best  interests  of  the  community,  and  when  the \nstory  went  abroad  that  a  convert  from  Protestantism \nhad  been  obliged  to  fly  from  the  institution,  and \nthat  one  of  the  Sisters  had  also  gone  for  refuge  to \nthe  house  of  a  Protestant  neighbor.  The  worst \nstories  about  the  convent  were  believed,  and  a \nBoston  mob  surrounded  the  building,  and  \"vindi- \ncated republican  institutions \"  by  battering  down \nthe  doors,  breaking  the  windows,  and  leaving  the \nedifice  in  much  the  condition  in  which  the  house  of \nGovernor  Hutchinson  had  been  left  by  the  indignant \npatriots  who  in  his  day  thought  that  breaking  and \nburning  were  the  only  methods  by  which  American \nprinciples  were  to  be  sustained.  The  rioting  in \nSomerville  was  cool,  and,  until  the  men  became  in- \nflamed by  strong  drink,  unattended  by  violence.  It \nwas  properly  condemned  in  Faneuil  Hall  by  Harri- \nson Gray  Otis,  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  and  other  citizens \nof  the  same  high  character.  Still,  it  left  a  blot  on \nthe   fame  of  the  city. \n\nThe  Womans  Journal,  which  was  established  at \nabout  1870,  has  been  the  channel  through  which  it \nwas  hoped  to  direct  legislation  and  public  opinion \nin  favor  of  woman  suffrage  and  all  the  civil  rights \nthat  women  claim,  and  it  has  exerted  much  influence. \nIn  1874  it  was  established  that  women  might  become \nmembers  of  the  school  committee,  and  in  1879  their \nright  to  vote  for  school  officers  was  confirmed.  The \nNew  England  Woman's  Club  is  another  means  of \nconcentrating  action  and  of  bringing  their  thoughts \nto  a  focus  on  every  subject  upon  which  women  think \nit  desirable  to  make  their  influence  felt. \n\n\nXXXIII. \n\nMODERN    BOSTON. \n\nThe  rough  promontory  to  which  John  Winthrop \nwas  invited  by  the  hospitable  Blaxton  has  become \nthe  site  of  a  modern  city  ;  its  hills  have  been  taken \ndown  ;  its  borders  have  been  gradually  advanced \ninto  the  surrounding  sea  ;  its  crooked  lanes  have  be- \ncome streets  and  avenues  ;  its  territory  has  been \ncovered  with  palaces  of  brick  and  stone.  The  busi- \nness men  of  the  present  time  store  their  goods  in \nwarehouses  of  grand  proportions,  and  meet  their \nassociates  in  offices  of  such  elegance  that,  could  the \ncitizens  of  an  earlier  day  reappear,  they  would  not \nrecognize  their  former  haunts  ;  and  if  they  could  be \nconvinced  that  they  were  actually  in  the  limits  of \nwhat  they  once  knew  as  Boston,  they  would  be \ncertain  that  the  place  had  entered  upon  a  career  of \nextravagance  which  could  end  only  in  speedy  ruin. \nGradually  a  new  Boston  has  been  evolved  from  the \nold.  The  children  have  grown  rich,  and  the  city  is \nnow  perhaps  the  most  wealthy  in  the  land  in  propor- \ntion to  its  population.  While  Boston  has  changed \nin  its  external  appearance  and  increased  in  material \nwealth,  it  still  draws  men  to  it,  in  a  greater  degree \nthan  most  other  American   cities,  by  virtue  of  its \n\n469 \n\n\n470  MODERN  BOSTON. \n\nexcellent  schools  and  libraries,  and  by  the  general \nintelligence  of  its  citizens.  These  are  inherited \ntraits,  and  they  are  strong. \n\nThe  territorial  growth  of  the  city  is  a  noteworthy \nfeature  in   its  later    history.      Three    years   are    re- \nmembered for  the  annexation  of  adjoining  territory. \nIn   1868  Roxbury,  which  as  a  town   was  as  old  as \nBoston  itself,  and  as  a  city  dated  from  1846,  became \na  portion   of  the  city.     In    1870  Dorchester,  which \nhad  retained  its  town  organization  from   1630,  was \nalso  absorbed.     In  1874  Chariest  own,  West  Roxbury, \nand   Brighton   were   added,   and    the    enlarged    city \nreached  its  present  extent — twenty-three   thousand \nseven    hundred    acres.       Chelsea,    Cambridge,    and \nBrookline   still   retain   their   independent  existence, \nthough   they  are  as   much  parts   of  the  suburbs  as \nthose  sections  that  have  been  merged  in  the  corpora- \ntion.    Brighton,  indeed,  can  scarcely  be  reached  from \nthe  city  proper  except  by  crossing  some  portion  not \nincluded  in  the  city  limits,  or  going  by  water.      The \n\"  Neck,\"  which  was  originally  hardly  broad  enough \nto   permit    the   building  of    the    only    street    which \ncrossed  it,  has  been  expanded  to  a  width  of  more \nthan   a  mile  and  a  half ;    and   upon   the   land  thus \ntaken   from    the   sea  some   of  the   handsomest   and \ncostliest  of  the  public  and   private   edifices   of  the \ncity  have  been   built,   including  the   Art   Museum, \nTrinity  Church,  the  \"  New  \"  Old  South  Church,  the \nbuilding  erected  for  the  \"  Manifesto  Church,\"  now \nowned  by  the  First  Baptist  Society,  and,  finally,  the \nHigh  and  Latin  School  building,  and  the  new  home \nof  the  Public  Library. \n\n\nE3 \n\n\no \n\n\nZ \n\n\n472  MODERN  BOSTON. \n\nIn  hastily  glancing  over  the  Boston  of  to-day  we \nare  attracted  by  the  great  growth  shown  in  church \nbuildings,  the  vast  proportions  assumed  by  the \norganizations  for  charity  and  social  enjoyment ;  the \nincrease  of  libraries,  the  creation  of  a  literature,  and \nthe  development  of  the  business  of  publishing  books, \nnewspapers,  and  magazines  ;  the  improvement  in \narchitecture,  the  adornment  of  the  streets  and \nsquares,  the  cultivated  taste  shown  in  music,  the \ndrama,  and  in  the  fine  arts  ;  and  the  growth  of  manu- \nfactures and  commerce.  From  the  first  Latin \nSchool  and  Harvard  College  a  vast  system  of  edu- \ncational influences  has  grown.  Colleges  and  schools, \npublic  and  private,  are  many,  in  which  both  women \nand  men  may  obtain  the  most  complete  education \nknown  to  Americans  in  the  different  branches  of \nhuman  knowledge.  It  seems,  indeed,  as  though \nevery  line  of  thought  had  been  followed  to  its  ut- \nmost extent  in  the  effort  to  make  complete  the \ndevelopment  of  the  faculties,  the  preservation  of \nmental  and  physical  health,  the  relief  of  distress,  the \nprotection  of  the  weak  and  forlorn,  the  recovery  of \nphysical  and  moral  health  when  lost,  and  the  en- \nlargement of  opportunities  for  study  and  enjoyment. \n\nThe  men  and  women  of  Boston  to-day  are  not \nconfined  in  their  interests,  as  their  fathers  and \nmothers  were,  to  the  discussion  of  politics  and  re- \nligion, but  can  carry  their  thoughts  into  the  realms \nof  space  and  into  worlds  of  which  no  one  dreamed \na  century  ago.  The  result  is  modern  civilization. \nThe  men  know  more,  they  enjoy  more,  they  are \nbroader  and  larger,  but  they  sufTer  more  also.     With \n\n\nJOHN  ALBION  ANDREW.  473 \n\nthe  extension  of  the  faculties  in  one  direction  comes \ngrowth  in  every  other  direction.  There  are,  how- \never, no  happier  homes  in  Boston  to-day  than  there \nwere  when  John  Winthrop  expressed  in  formal \nspeech  his  attachment  for  his  Margaret ;  when  Mrs. \nJohn  Adams  wrote  her  delightful  epistles  to  her  ab- \nsent lord;  when  young  ladies  were  less  distinguished \nfor  the  charms  of  their  minds  than  for  the  elegance \nof  their  persons.  With  the  growth  of  good  taste \nhas  come  a  greater  sensibility  to  suffering  from  those \nthings  that  offend  propriety  ;  with  the  increase  of \nwealth  has  come  an  increased  list  of  wants  to  be  sup- \nplied ;  every  convenience  of  modern  civilization  has \nbrought  with  it  new  cares  and  new  classes  of  trials. \n\nThe  memory  of  the  present  generation  emphasizes \ncertain  epochs  especially,  which  are  indeed  worthy \nof  note.  From  1861  to  1865  the  hearts  of  all  citizens \nwere  stirred  by  the  uprising  of  the  nation  and  the \nbloody  struggle  that  settled  the  government  firmly \nupon  its  present  basis.  Then  the  war  governor  of \nMassachusetts,  John  Albion  Andrew,  came  forth, \nand  placed  the  state  in  the  fore-front  of  the  move- \nment for  the  support  of  the  Federal  Government, \nand  carried  out  determined  plans  with  vigor  like  that \ndisplayed  by  the  Father  of  the  American  Revolution. \nThe  men  of  Boston  supported  the  governor  and  the \npresident,  and  went  with  alacrity  to  danger  and  to \ndeath  at  their  call. \n\nWhen,  in  1876,  the  \"Centennial\"  period  of  the \nnation  arrived,  Boston  sympathized  to  the  full  with \nall  who  rejoiced,  and  there  was  a  revival  of  ancient \nmemories  as  each  notable  date  passed.    The  impetus \n\n\n474  MODERN   BOSTON. \n\nto  patriotism  has  not  yet  ceased  to  be  felt,  and  it  is \nremembered  that  we  are  now  in  the  midst  of  a  series \nof  centennial  anniversaries  of  the  stirring  times  when \nthe  constitution  of  the  United  States  was  ratified  by \nMassachusetts,  by  the  convention  that  adjourned \nfrom  the  Old  State  House  and  held  its  memorable \nand  protracted  sessions  in  the  meeting-house  on \nLong  Lane,  afterwards  called  Federal  Street. \n\n\"  The  'vention  did  in  Boston  meet, \nBut  State  House  could  not  hold  'em  ; \n\nSo  then  they  went  to  Federal  Street, \nAnd  there  the  truth  was  told  'em.\" \n\nThe  revival  of  historical  study  is  shown  by  the \nrepeated  courses  of  lectures  on  American  topics  in \nthe  venerable  building  of  the  Old  South  church,  and \nby  the  establishment  of  societies  for  the  special  pur- \npose of  keeping  the  memories  of  the  Fathers  fresh. \nThe  first  of  these  in  order  of  time  was  the  Anti- \nquarian Club,  organized  in  1879  for  the  purpose  of \npreserving  historical  records.  The  Boston  Memorial \nAssociation  was  next  formed,  in  1880,  for  the  pur- \npose of  caring  for  the  memorials  of  the  city,  for  the \npreservation  and  improvement  of  its  public  grounds, \nand  the  erection  of  works  of  art.  Tlie  Bostonian \nSociety,  incorporated  at  the  close  of  the  year  1881, \nhas  for  its  object  not  the  erection  of  memorials,  but \nthe  preservation  of  them  from  reckless  destruction \nby  those  champions  of  progress  who  would  make \nnew  every  thing  old  if  it  happened  not  to  bear  upon \nit  the  marks  of  the  fashion  of  the  day.  Into  this \nsociety  the  Antiquarian  Club  was  merged. \n\n\nHISTORY  AND  LETTERS  475 \n\nThe  same  purposes,  to  a  certain  extent,  are  sub- \nserved by  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  It \nwas  founded  in  1791,  and  incorporated  in  1794,  for \nthe  \"  collecting,  preserving,  and  communicating  the \nantiquities  of  America,\"  \"  especially  in  the  historical \nway,\"  as  Jeremy  Belknap,  its  founder,  wrote.  Eight \nof  its  ten  original  members  were  Bostonians,  as  each \nof  its  seven  presidents  have  been.  The  New  Eng- \nland Historic-Genealogical  Society,  which  dates  from \nthe  autumn  of  1844,  ^Iso  gave  impetus  to  the  inves- \ntigation of  early  American  history  in  the  Eastern \nStates,  and  became  a  centre  of  antiquarian  study. \n\nReference  has  been  made  to  the  increase  of  libra- \nries. Boston  has  long  been  specially  rich  in  both \npublic  and  private  collections  of  books,  and  at  the \npresent  time  affords  the  student  in  all  branches  of \nhistory,  but  especially  American  history,  unequalled \nopportunities  for  the  study  of  originals.  A  catalogue \nof  these  collections  would  be  so  long  as  to  be  tedi- \nous, but  a  few  of  them  must  be  mentioned.  The \nlibrary  of  the  University  at  Cambridge,  which  under \nits  hospitable  management  is  a  boon  to  all  students, \nneeds  but  a  passing  mention.  The  great  Boston \ncollection  in  the  Public  Library,  which  bears  on  its \nouter  walls  the  legend,  \"FREE  TO  ALL,\"  rtow \nnumbers  more  than  half  a  million  volumes,  and  is  as \nfree  as  its  motto  promises.  This  collection  was  be- \ngun in  1848,  in  consequence  of  an  offer  of  money \nmade  by  the  younger  Mayor  Quincy.  Prominent \ncitizens  at  once  took  an  earnest  interest  in  making \nthe  collection  of  books  worthy  of  their  city ;  they \ngave  it  money  in  generous  sums ;    they  hastened  to \n\n\n^ \n\n\n4/6  MODERN  BOSTON. \n\nput  on  its  shelves  the  books  that  had  been  left  to \nthem  from  their  fathers,  and  made  provision  in  their \nwills  that  their  own  books  should  follow.  In  this \nway  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  favorite  library  grew  in \nnumbers.  Edward  Everett  laid  down  his  valuable \ncollection  of  public  documents  for  the  public  good  ; \nJoshua  Bates  sent  from  London  fifty  thousand  dol- \nlars ;  George  Ticknor,  historian  of  Spanish  literature, \ngave  his  time,  his  money,  and  finally  his  unrivalled \ncollection  of  books  in  Spanish  and  Portuguese  ;  the \ndeacons  of  the  Old  South  Church  deposited  within \nits  walls  the  curious  and  valuable  collection  made  by \nthe  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Prince,  which  had  long  been \nprecariously  preserved  in  the  ancient  lofts  in  the \nsteeple  of  the  old  meeting-house.  Eleven  thousand \nvolumes  were  received  by  bequest  of  the  Rev.  Theo- \ndore Parker.  The  best  collection  of  Shakespearian \nworks  known  in  America  came  from  the  library  of \nThomas  Pennant  Barton,  of  New  York,  which  was \nbought  in  1873,  ^\"ci  comprised  twelve  thousand  vol- \numes. The  result  is  the  largest  collection  of  books \nfor  free  circulation  in  the  world. \n\nThe  library  of  the  Boston  Athenaeum  grew  out  of \na  literary  club  called  into  being  by  the  Rev.  William \nEmerson,  father  of  the  more  distinguished  son,  when \nhe  took  editorial  charge  of  the  Monthly  Anthology, \nsix  months  after  its  inception.  This  was  the  chief \nliterary  enterprise  of  his  life,  and  the  magazine  was \nthe  longest-lived  of  those  that  followed  the  Ameri- \ncan Magazine,  which  began  its  fitful  career  in  1740. \nThe  notable  collection  of  men  of  literary  tastes  that \nMr.  Emerson  grouped  around  him  was  known  as  the \n\n\nb. \n\n0 \n\nW \n\n' \n\nZ \n\no \n\no \n\nCO \n\nu \n\nw \n\nC \n\nr~\" \n\n>o \n\nz \n\nc \n\nui \n\na \n\n■j: \n\nw \n\n^ \n\nz \n\n'■) \n\n<: \n\nf \n\na \n\n04 \n\n*-• \n\nW \n\nH \n\nZ \n\nZ \n\nu \n\n:^    < \n\n.J \n\nz   id \n\n■■4    X \n\n\na  5 \n\n\nZ \n\no \nu \n\n\nQ \nZ \n< \n\n\n478  MODERN  BOSTON. \n\nAnthology  Club.  Once  a  week  they  met  to  discuss \nletters,  with  especial  reference  to  their  magazine,  and \na  dinner  of  modest  character,  with  reference  to  their \nown  social  life.  The  club  kept  its  magazine  up  for \nsome  six  years,  and  also  formed  a  collection  of  books, \nto  which  were  added  some  that  Mr.  Emerson  had \ngotten  together  when  he  had  taught  at  Harvard, \nthough  he  wrote  in  his  journal  of  himself  and  his \nwife  at  the  time:  \"We  are  poor  and  cold,  and  have \nlittle  meal,  and  little  wood,  and  little  meat,  but, \nthank  God,  courage  enough.\"  From  the  collection \nthus  formed  grew  the  Athenaeum  Library,  one  of  the \nbest  in  the  land,  which  occupies  a  prominent  building \non  Beacon  Street,  and  has  been  in  the  care  of  a \nnumber  of  the  most  noted  librarians  of  America. \n\nNo  inconsiderable  part  of  the  gradual  improve- \nment in  the  appearance  of  Boston  has  been  made \npossible  by  the  fires  which  have  destroyed  buildings \nthat  in  the  ordinary  process  of  events  would  have \ncumbered  the  ground  many  years  longer  than  they \nwere  permitted  to.  There  have  been,  as  in  many \nother  towns,  \"  great  \"  fires  from  time  to  time,  and \neach  one  has  startled  the  inhabitants  into  new  and \nmore  rigid  provisions  against  a  recurrence  of  the  like \ndisaster.  The  series  began  with  the  fire  of  1653. \nAfter  it  householders  were  directed  to  provide  them- \nselves with  ladders  of  sufficient  length  to  reach \nto  the  ridge-poles  of  their  dwellings,  and  long \npoles  with  swabs  on  the  end  adapted  to  \"  quench \nfire,\"  and  six  long  ladders  were  hung  on  the  outside \nof  the  meeting-house.  By  1670  these  simple  means \nhad  proved  inadequate,  and  householders  were  or- \n\n\nTHE   GREA  T  FIRES.  A,JC^ \n\ndered  to  provide  at  or  near  the  doors  of  their  build- \nings, hogsheads  of  water  ready  filled,  with  the  heads \nout,  and  to  keep  their  chimneys  well  swept.  The \nvision  of  a  hogshead  standing  at  each  door  through- \nout the  city  is  an  amusing  one  ! \n\nThe  second  great  fire,  which  occurred  in  1676, \nbegan  \"an  hour  before  day,\"  and  burned  forty-six \ndwellings,  besides  other  buildings,  and  Increase \nMather's  church,  the  \"  Old  North.\"  It  led  directly \nto  straightening  the  streets,  and  all  persons  were \nenjoined  against  building  upon  the  burnt  district \nuntil  the  selectmen  had  staked  out  the  streets  anew \nand  given  permission.  Those  who  recollect  the \ndistrict  burned  at  the  time  can  but  wonder  how  the \nstreets  could  have  ever  been  more  crooked  than \nthey  were  even  within  the  second  half  of  the  present \ncentury.  The  year  1679  witnessed  another  and \neven  more  disastrous  confl-agration,  which  began \nnear  the  Dock,  and,  as  Cotton  Mather  says,  burned \nfourscore  dwellings  and  seventy  warehouses.  The \nfire  of  171 1  is  described  as  more  \"sweeping  and  dis- \nastrous \"  than  any  of  its  predecessors.  It  burned \nthe  First  Church,  the  Town  House,  all  the  buildings \non  both  sides  of  Cornhill  (present  Washington  Street) \nfrom  School  Street  to  Dock  Square,  and  turned  a \nhundred  or  more  families  into  the  streets,  besides \nresulting  in  the  death  of  several  men  who  were \nengaged  in  efforts  to  arrest  the  conflagration.  In \nBonner's  map  this  is  called  the  eighth  great  fire. \nAnother  occurred  in  1760,  and  others  in  1787,  1793, \n1824,  1825,  and  1835  *  ;  but  all  of  these  were  eclipsed \n\n*  See  Winsor's  \"  Memorial  History,\"  vol.,  iv.,  page  48. \n\n\n480  MODERN   BOSTON. \n\nin  greatness  and   destructiveness  by  the  one  which \nfortunately  remains  the  great  fire  of  Boston. \n\nIt  was  not  remarkable  that  in  the  provincial  period \nthe  town  was  frequently  visited  by  fire.  Indeed \nCotton  Mather  said  that  \"  never  was  any  town  under \nthe  cope  of  heaven  more  liable  to  be  laid  in  ashes,\" \nand  that  \"  such  a  combustible  heap  of  contiguous \nhouses  \"  continued  to  stand  he  considered  a  \"  stand- \ning miracle.\"  It  was  Saturday  evening,  November \n9,  1872  that  the  greatest  Boston  fire  began.  It  did \nnot  attack  such  a  combustible  heap  of  contiguous \nhouses  as  Cotton  Mather  was  familiar  with,  but \nbegan  and  worked  its  rapid  way  through  buildings \nbuilt  of  solid  brick  and  granite  that  had  been  sup- \nposed to  be  proof  against  such  ravages.  Beginning \non  Saturday  evening  at  the  corner  of  Summer  and \nKingston  streets,  the  fire  was  not  stopped  until \nSunday  afternoon,  when  it  had  burned  over  sixty- \nfive  of  the  densest  acres  of  the  city,  and  had \ndestroyed  seventy-five  million  dollars'  worth  of \nproperty,  including  many  public  buildings,  and  most \nof  the  newspaper  of^ces.  It  left  the  view  unob- \nstructed from  Washington  Street  at  the  ends  of \nWinter,  Bromfield,  and  Milk  streets  quite  out  to  the \nislands  in  the  harbor.  Insurance  companies  were \nmade  bankrupt,  private  citizens  and  corporations \nfound  themselves  crippled  by  their  sudden  losses, \nand  the  people  were  for  a  time  almost  in  a  state  of \npanic.  Common-sense  took  the  place  of  these  feel- \nings, however. \n\nExpressions  of  sympathy  came  from  all  quarters. \nEven    as    the    flames    were    burning,    Henry    Ward \n\n\nTHE    PUBLIC \nThis  is  all  on  \"  m \n\n\nTHE    STORY   STOPS.  48 1 \n\nBeecher,  son  of  one  of  the  former  pastors  of  the \nchurch  on  Bowdoin  Street,  speaking  from  his  Brook- \nlyn pulpit  exclaimed  :  \"  Upon  no  other  place  could  a \ncalamity  have  fallen  which  would  have  touched  so \nuniversally  the  national  life  and  the  national  feeling \nas  upon  the  city  of  Boston — this  city  from  which \nsprung  the  earliest  American  ideas.  Her  history \nis  written  in  the  best  things  that  have  befallen  this \nland,  and  shame  on  the  man  who  in  the  day  of  her \ndisaster  has  no  tears  for  her !  \"  The  city  was  glad \nof  the  good  feeling,  but  it  accepted  no  other  help \nin  the  process  of  recuperation.  The  streets  were \nstraightened  and  widened  ;  new  squares  were  laid \nout ;  new  water-pipes  were  laid ;  and  the  whole  dis- \ntrict that  had  been  devastated  was  rebuilt  in  much \nfiner  style  than  before. \n\nThe  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  founding  of \nBoston  occurred  September  17,  1730,  and  the  two \nhundredth  was  celebrated  in  1830.  Fifty  years  later, \nin  1880,  there  was  another  hearty  celebration,  marked \nby  one  of  the  greatest  processions  that  had  ever  been \nknown.  There  was  likewise  an  address  intended  to \narouse  local  pride,  as  on  the  former  occasions,  in  the \nOld  South  Church.  This  time  the  orator  took  for \nhis  theme  the  character  and  services  of  the  first \ngovernor,  who  was  the  first  citizen  of  the  town  at \nits  beginning.  The  day  was  appropriately  marked \nalso  by  the  unveiling  of  a  statue  of  Mr.  Winthrop, \nwhich  stands  in  the  very  middle  of  the  rush  of \nmodern  life,  in  ScoUay  Square.  It  is  clothed  in  the \nstriking  garments  of  the  period,  and  brings  back  to \nour  eyes  the  governor  as  he  landed  from  his  ship. \n\n\n482  MODERN  BOSTON. \n\nOne  hand  bears  to  the  New  World  the  king's  charter \nand  the  other  the  Bible,  both  of  which  were  held \nsacred  by  Winthrop  and  honored  by  all  true  sons  of \nBoston  in  the  early  days.  The  vessel  that  brought \nover  the  precious  freight  is  suggested  by  a  rope \nattached  to  a  forest  tree  that  bears  fresh  marks  of \nthe  settler's  axe. \n\nThus  the  Story  of  Boston  may  stop  with  this  new \nreference  to  the  man  who  guided  its  first  steps, \nwhose  memory  can  never  fade  from  the  city's  records. \nThe  city's  growth  in  elegance  and  perhaps  in  public \nand  private  magnificence  may  be  dated  from  the  late \nperiod  of  the  last  great  fire  and  of  the  erection  of \nthis  statue  of  Winthrop.  The  streets  and  squares \nare  adorned  by  many  monuments,  and  with  other \nstatues,  commemorating  heroes  from  Aristides  to \nLincoln,  and  events  from  the  \"  Massacre  \"  to  the \nuprising  of  the  people  in  1775,  and  the  establishment \nof  the  Nation  in  1865. \n\n\nINDEX, \n\n\nA \n\nAbolitionism  and  its  energetic \nprophet,  461 \n\nAcadians,  the  carrying  away  of  the, \n252 \n\nAcadie,  relations  with  the  French \nin,  99 \n\nAdams  family,  the,  origin  of,  222 \n\nAdams,  John,  appointed  delegate \nto  Congress,  358  ;  asks  a  question \nabout  tea,  362  ;  bravely  appears \nfor  Preston,  317  ;  lirought  into \nprominence,  262  ;  commends  an \noration  by  Hancock,  349  ;  in- \nveighs against  luxury,  393  ;  on \nthe  American  congress,  355  ; \npoints  out  the  excellences  and \ndefects  of  Bostonians,  385,  3S6  ; \npresents  his  sentiments  about  in- \ndependency, 383  ;  recommends  a \ncelebration,  384  ;  removes  from \nBoston  to  Braintree,  325  ;  thinks \nBritain  would  enslave  America, \n284  ;  to  his  wife  after  the  pas- \nsage of  the  port  bill,  351 \n\nAdams,  Mrs.  John,  on  the  battle \nof  Bunker  Hill,  567  ;  on  the \nbehavior  of  the  French  officers, \n394,  395  ;  on  changes  in  society, \n387  ;  on  the  favor  of  Heaven  to \nBoston,  380  ;  on  the  situation  of \nthe  British,  376  ;  sermon  at  mar- \nriage of,  206 \n\nAdams,  John  Quincy,  tells  Jeffer- \n\n\nson that  the  embargo  cannot  be \nenforced  in  New  England,  415 \n\nAdams,  Nehemiah,  pastor  of  the \nEssex  Street  Church,  447 \n\nAdams,  Samuel,  Sr.,  member  of \nthe  Caucus  Club,  221 \n\nAdams,  Samuel,  not  adapted  to  the \ntimes  after  independence  had \nbeen  won,  402  ;  appointed  dele- \ngate to  congress,  358  ;  argues \nwith  Hutchinson,  313  ;  asks  to \nhave  the  galleries  cleared,  335  ; \ncalled  Masterof  the  Puppets,  306; \nbrings  young  men  forward,  262  ; \ndeath  of.  405-;  defends  the  com- \nmittee of  correspondence,  347  ; \ngives  the  populace  a  cue,  314  ; \ndenies  the  right  of  parliament  to \ntax  America,  278  ;  expresses  the \nthanks  of  America  to  the  French, \n395  ;  the  \"  famous,\"  393  ;  fears \nthe  Society  of  the  Cincinnati, \n405  ;  graduates,  235  ;  character \nof,  235  ;  habits  of,  393  ;  has \ngreat  influence  as  clerk  of  the \nlegislature,  292  ;  influence  of,  in \neducation,  442  ;  invites  some \nBritish  troops  to  front  seats,  359  ; \nkeeps  up  the  pre-revolutionary \nindignation.  276  ;  labors  of,  295  ; \nleaves  college  and  prepares  to \npractise  law,  256  ;  makes  a  mem- \norable address  at  Cambridge, \n236  ;  opposed  to  toryism,  390  ; \nplan  of,  for  committees  of  corre- \n\n\n483 \n\n\n484 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nspondence,  279,  326,  327,  334  ; \njHiblishes  an  \"Appeal  to  the \nWorld,\"  308  ;  puts  Hutchinson \nin  the  ^\\■rong,  33 1;  332  ;  retires \nfrom  public  life,  404  ;  secretary \nof  state,  390;  s;nds  out  a  circu- \nlar-letter, 350  ;  the  skill  of,  290, \n291  ;  warns  Boston  on  the  com- \ning of  a  British  fleet,  324  ;  writes \nan  address  for  Hancock,  349  ; \nwrites  voluminously  for  the  press, \n263 \n\nAdams  and  Hancock  excepted  from \na  proclamation  by  Gage,  365  ; \noutlaws,  383 \n\nAdvertiser,  Independent,  the,  begins \na  career,  264 \n\nAlbany  Convention  of  1754,  the, \n243.  250 \n\nAlexandria,  meeting  of  royal  gov- \nernors at,  in  1755,  250 \n\nAmerica,  strange  views  regarding, \n12 \n\nAmerica,  History  of,  by  Winsor,  2 \n\nAmerican  empire,  an,  figured  by \nsome  before  the  Revolution,  261 \n\nAmerican  Magazine,  the,  476 \n\nAmericans,  misrepresented  at  court, \n307  ;  said  to  be  poor  but  proud, \n150  ;  spirits  of  the,  to  be  broken \nat  all  hazards,  321 \n\nAmphictyons,  the,  set  up  as  models, \n\n332 \nAmusements  renounced  on  account \n\nof  the  presence  of  troops,  301 \nAnabaptists,  fears  of  the,  78,  105  ; \n\nsimply  Baptists.  105 \nAncient   and   Honorable   Artillery \n\nCompany,  the,  88,  240 \n•Andrew,    John    Albion,   governor, \n\n465  ;  vigor  of,  473 \nAndros,     Sir     Edmund,     becomes \n\ngovernor,  164  ;  arrested  and  sent \n\nto  England,  170 \nAnniversaries,    importance    of,    in \n\nthe  estimation  of  Adams,   293  ; \n\ninfluence  of  celebrations  of,  294, \n\n319 \nAntagonism    between     Bostonians \n\nand  officers  of  the  king,  261 \n\n\nAnthology  Club,  the,  478 \nAnthology,  Alontldy,  the,  edited  by \n\nWilliam  Emerson,  476 \nAntinomianism,  controversy  about. \n\nAntiquarian  Club,  the,  474 \nAnti-Slavery  Society,  the,  founded, \n\n463 \nApthorp,     Rev.     East,     comes    to \n\nCambridge,  273 \nAri>ella,  the  ship,  named  in  honor \n\nof  Mrs.  Johnson,  32 \nAristides,  monument  of,  483 \nAristocracy,  a  sort   of  established, \n\nin  Boston,  84 \nArms,    the    appeal    to,    advocated \n\nunder  certain  circumstances,  265 \nArmstrong,  Samuel  T.,  mayor,  456 \nArtillery    Company,    the    Ancient \n\nand  Honorable,  88,  240 \nAssistants,  the  first  court  of,  42 \nAthenteum,    the   Boston,    how   be- \ngun, 476 \nAttucks,  Crispus,  death  of,  312 \nAulnay,   d',   wishes   to   trad©  with \n\nBoston,  99 \nAustin,    Anne,    and    Mary    Fisher \n\narrive  from  the  Barbadoes,  and \n\nare  sent  away,  no \n\n\nB \n\n\nBack  Bay,  improvements  in  the, \nplanned  by  Arthur  Oilman,  and \ncarried  out,  455 \n\nBack-Bay  region,  process  of  im- \nproving, 412 \n\nBall,  the  Peace,  in  1815,  dress  of \nan  attendant  at,  417 \n\nBalls  frowned  upon  by  Adams,  392 \n\nBancroft,  George,  on  the  transfer \nof  the  charter,  9;  History,  quoted, \n\n301,  457 \nBanishment,  a  punishment  for  un- \ninvited settlers,   63 ;    of    Roger \nWilliams,  77 \nBank,  a  private,  proposed,  208 \nBaptism,  infant,  trouble  about,  T04 \nBaptist  Society,  the  First,  in  Bos- \nton, no \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n485 \n\n\nBarbadoes,  contest  about  a  salary \nat,  226  ;  trade  with,  97 \n\nBarre  calls  the  Boston ians  Sons  of \nLiberty,  291 \n\nBarton  collection  of  books,  476 \n\nBates,  Joshua,  gives  money  to  the \nPublic  Library,  476 \n\nBay  Psalm  Book,  the,  iiS  ;  speci- \nmens of  the  verses  in,  109 \n\nBeacon  Hill,  the  (Sentry)  digging \naway  of,  412,  454  ;  in  early  days, \n58  ;  the  steepness  of,  454 \n\nBeecher,  Henry  Ward,  on  the \ncharacter  of  Boston,  482 \n\nBeecher,  Lyman,  pastor  of  the \nchurch  on  Ixiwdoin  Street,  447 \n\nBelcher,  Jonathan,  becomes  gover- \nnor, 228  ;  disaffection  with,  230 \n\nBelknap,  Jeremy,  founds  the  Mass- \nachusetts Historical  Society,  475 \n\nBellomont,  Earl  of  (Richard \nCoote),  i8g ;  begins  his  rule, \n196 \n^  Bernard,  Governor  Francis,  de- \nnounced, 294  ;  called  to  account \nfor  unwarranted  expenditure, \n271  ;  called  to  London,  303  ; \ncharacter  of,  304  ;  fears  to  ask \nfor  troops,  298 \n^  Bernard  and  Hutchinson,  influence \nof,  325 \n\nBible,  the,  furnishes  the  model  for \nthe  Bostonian  government,  84  ; \ninfluence  of  the,  on  England, \n16  ;  to  be  kissed  by  witnesses, \n167  ;  the  mode  of  reading  it, \n180  ;  quoted  to  support  a  Boston \nnotion,  190  ;  the  source  of  early \nBoston  laws,  119 \n\nBible-reading  in  churches,  118 \n\nBigelow,  John  P.,  mayor,  456 \n\nBilboes,  as  a  punishment,  63,  64 \n\nBill,  the,  sent  up  by  Judge  Sewall \nin  the  Old  South,'  187 \n\nBishop's  palace,  the,  in  Cambridge, \noccupied  by  Burgoyne,  389 \n\nBlackstone.      See  Blaxton. \n\nBladen,  ^Nfartin,  charges  that  Bos- \nton Seeks  independency,  209 \n\nBlaxton,  the  first  settler  at  Boston, \n\n\n38  ;  invites  Winthrop  to  Shaw- \n\nmut,  42 \nBlessing  of  the  Bay,  the,  launched, \n\n52 \n\"  Blockade    of    Boston,\"    a    play \n\ncomposed  to  enliven  the   British \n\nduring  the  siege,  372 \nBlood,  the  first,  spilled,  309 \nBoards,  price  of,  fixed,  69 \nBoard  of  Trade,  the  development \n\nof,    209 ;    invites   a    meeting    of \n\ncolonists,  250 \n\"  Body    of    Liberties,\"    the,    pre- \npared by  Ward,  121 \nBomazeen,  imprisonment  of,  189 \nBook,  the  first,  printed  in  Boston, \n\n\"9 \n\nBooks  and  printing,  118 \n\nBoston  accused  of  aiming  at  the \nsovereignty  of  the  continent, \n328  ;  acts  as  though  she  were \nindependent,  151  ;  alarmed  by  a \nrumor  of  the  return  of  the  Brit- \nish, 388  ;  alarmed  by  rumors  of \nIndian  war,  146 ;  alarmed  by \nthe  French  Acadians,  100 ; \nalarmed  when  the  charter  was \ncalled  for,  122  ;  area  of,  56  ; \narea  of,  enlarged,  412  ;  aspect \nof,  in  1631,  56,  60,  61  ;  beauty \nof,  454  ;  becomes  a  place  gov- \nerned by  a  few,  420 ;  bound \nhand  and  foot,  167  ;  carefully \nwatched  by  England,  273  ;  cele- \nbrates its  coming  two  hundred \nyears  of  age,  451  ;  celebrates  its \n250th  anniversary,  482  ;  censures \nthe  governor  for  accepting  a  sal- \nary from  the  king,  326  ;  changes \nin,  after  the  Revolution,  397  ;  the \nchief  seat  of  oppositioii,  307  ; \nchurch,  the,  errors  in,  79  ;  com- \nplained of  by  the  Board  of \nTrade,  209  ;  condition  of,  dur- \ning the  siege,  368,  369  ;  condi- \ntion of,  after  the  siege,  3S0  ;  in \nconstant  strife  with  the  king's \ngovernors,  191,  192  ;  denounces \nthe  stamp  act,  285  ;  destitute \nof  the  choice  spirits  that  once  it \n\n\n486 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nknew,  387  ;  determined  to  resist \ntaxation,  308  ;  determines  to \nassert  its  rights,  297  ;  divisions \nof,  in  early  times,  397  ;  early \ngovernment  of,  83  ;  in  the  early \ntimes,  126  ;  engages  in  tlie  trade \nwith  China,  415  ;  evacuated  by \nGeneral  Howe,  375  ;  excellences \nof.  385,  386 ;  excited  by  the \narrival  of  tea  ships,  337  ;  .excites \nHutchinson's  jealousy,  321  ;  ex- \npects liberty  to  be  snatched \naway,  292  ;  the  first  settlers \naround,  38  ;  government  of,  418  ; \ngreat  influence  of,  in  the  public \ndiscussions,  290 ;  hears  of  the \ndeclaration  of  independence, \n3S4  ;  holds  an  \"adjourned\" \ntown-meeting,  354  ;  holds  a \ntown-meeting  about  the  port \nbill,  351  ;  holds  power  through \nits  town-meetings,  92  ;  import- \nance of,  in  the  early  ])eriod,  376, \n37S  ;  independency  of,  makes  an \nimpression  in  England,  143  ;  in- \ndependent in  the  days  of  Crom- \nwell, 13S  ;  influence  of,  among \nthe  towns,  91,  332  ;  influence  of, \nthroughout  the  colonies,  249  ; \ninvested  by  war  ships,  299  ;  the \njealousy  on  the  part  of  other \ntowns  disappears,  290  ;  just  be- \nfore the  Revolntion,  as  drawn  by \nHutchinson,  323,  325  ;  laughed \nat  by  New  York,  32S  ;  living  in, \nin  early  days,  145  ;  looks  toward \nthe  great  West,  406  ;  loses  pop- \nulation during  the  Revolution, \n397.  39S  ;  made  the  naval  ren- \ndezvous, 322 ;  meetings  of  the \nselectmen  cease,  363  ;  merchants \nsupport  the  legislature  against \nBurnet,  226 ;  named,  42,  44 ; \nobjects  to  the  presence  of  troops, \n302  ;  opposed  to  giving  up  the \ncharter,  154  ;  opposed  to  govern- \nors appointed  by  the  king,  190  ; \nopposed  to  the  War  of  1812,  416  ; \norigin  of  the  name,  44  ;  Parlia- \nment thinks  it   ouccht  to  be  de- \n\n\nstroyed, 345  ;  a  period  in  its \nexistence,  376  ;  people,  not  a \nrabble,  363  ;  port  of,  closed, \n346 ;  postpones  giving  up  the \ncharter,  124  ;  prepares  to  defend \nitself  against  the  king,  123, \n141  ;  progress  of,  172  ;  customs \nof,  172;  changes  in,  173;  \"creep- \ning statesmen  \"  in,  172  ;  tricks \nnot  to  be  shown  in,  174  ;  Sunday \nin,  175,  176;  matrimony  in,  178; \nholy  days  in,  1 78  ;  preaching  in, \n180  ;  first  marriage  in  the  Town \nHouse,  182  ;  dwellings  and \nmode  of  living  in,  184  ;  inhabi- \ntants of,  185  ;  prosperous,  125  ; \n\"prostrates\"  itself  before \nCharles  H.,  and  keeps  on  forti- \nfying itself,  141,  142  ;  a  purely \nEnglish  town,  426  ;  receives  a \ncharter  as  a  city,  422  ;  rejoices \nat  the  removal  of  Bernard,  304  ; \nrelative  size  of,  in  early  days,  87  ; \nremarkable  changes  in  its  physi- \ncal appearance,  469  ;  reported \nbombardment  of,  357  ;  restless \nunder  Hutchinson,  327  ;  sends \nletters  to  the  other  towns,  327  ; \nsettles  the  financial  policy  of  the \nprovince,  208  ;  siege  of,  begun, \n361,  364  ;  seventeen  miles  from \na  seaport,  353  ;  social  changes \nin,  390 ;  supports  the  Union \ncause  in  the  last  war,  473  ;  terri- \nfied at  the  appointment  of  Kirke, \n156.  157  !  threatened  by  a  fleet, \n324  ;  trade  growing  up  in,  97  ; \ntrade  interfered  with  by  the \nparliament,  193  ;  troubled  by \nIndians,  92  ;  troubled  by  Quak- \ners, no;  widening  of  the  inter- \nests of,  472  ;  wishes  to  become \na  city,  419 \n\nBoston  Mill  Corporation,  scheme \nof  412 \n\nBoston  Public  Library,  the,  475 \n\nBoston  and  Roxbury  Mill  Corpo- \nration, scheme  of,  410 \n\nBoston  and  ^V^)rcester  Railroad, \n450 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n487 \n\n\nBostoneers,  name  given  the  in^ \nhabitants  of  Boston  by  Ran- \ndolph, 19S \n\n.Bostonian  Society,  the, object  of, 474 \n\nBostonians,  called  \"  Sons  of  Lib- \nerty,\" 291  ;  defects  of,  as  seen  by \nJohn  Adams,  3S5,  386;  grow \nrich  in  the  carrying  trade,  414  ; \nmainly  whigs,  262  ;  think  rapidly \nand  to  purpose,  286  ;  uneasy  in \nthe  days  of  Pownall,  259 \n\nBounties  offered  for  scalps,  201 \n\nBowdoin,  Governor,  dwelling  of \noccupied  by  Burgoyne,  370  ; \ngives  a  sentiment,  384 \n\nBowen,  Francis,  \"  Life  of  Otis,\" \nby,  296 \n\nBow-wows,  the  three,  arrive,  363 \n\nBoyle,  Robert,  President  of  the \nSociety  for  the  Propagation  of \nthe  Gospel,  136 \n\nBoylston,  Thomas,  disciplined  by \nsundry  \"females,\"  388 \n\nBracket's  tavern,  known  as  Crom- \nwell's Head,  408 \n\nBradish's  tavern,  now  Porter's \nHotel,  389 \n\nBradstreet,  Simon,  at  the  head  of \nBoston  affairs,  169,  170 \n\nBrattle  Street  church,  beginning \nof,  199 \n\nBra%\\ls  ill  the  streets  in  1768,  301, \n\n310,  311 \n\nBreck,  Samuel,  dwelling  of,  occu- \npied by  Earl  Percy,  370 \n\nBreed's  Hill,  battle  on,  366.  See \nBunker's  Hill \n\nBridge  to  Charlestown,  Iniilding  of \na,  408 \n\nBridge,  the  Craigie,  to  Cambridge, \nbuilt,  409  ;  the  Harvard,  build- \ning of,  409 \n\nBridges,  effect  of  the,  when  lighted, \n409,  410 \n\nBrighton,  annexation  of,  470 \n\nBrimmer,  Martin,  mayor,  456 \n\nBriscoe,  Nathaniel,  brutally  beaten, \n107 \n\nBritish  authority  ended  in  Boston, \n385 \n\n\nBrook  Farm  movement,  the,  plan \nof,  460 \n\nBrowne,  John  and  Samuel,  sent  to \nEngland,  64 \n\nBrown,  John,  comes  to  Boston, \n466 \n\nBuckminster,  Rev.  Joseph  Stevens, \npastor  of  the  Brattle  Street \nchurch,  200 \n\nBuildings,  new,  on  the  made  land, \n470 \n\nBulfinch,  Charles,  designs  a  monu- \nment to  commemorate  the  Bea- \ncon, 453 \n\nBullivant,  Doctor,  makes  a  repartee \nto  Bellomont,  197 \n\nBunch  of  Grapes  tavern,  bonfire  in \nfront  of;  385  ;  important  meet- \ning in,  406  ;  reception  of  Gov- \nernor Burnet  at,  225 \n\nBunker  Hill,  battle  on,  366,   367 \n\nBurgoyne,  General,  arrives  in  Bos- \nton the  first  time,  363  ;  surrender \nof,  389 \n\nBurnet,  William,  becomes  gov- \nernor, 223  ;  death  of,  227 \n\nBurying-place,  the  first,  43 \n\nBusiness,  stagnation  of,  in  1814, \n416 \n\nByles,  Mather,  minister  of  the \nHollis  Street  church,  salutes \nGovernor  Burnet,  224  ;  describes \na  Harvard  commencement,  237 \n\n\nCambridge,  Eng.,  important  meet- \ning at,  I,  9 \n\nCambridge.      See  New  Town. \n\nCambridge,  an  army  at,  the  day \nafter  Lexington,  364  ;  legislature \nadjourns  to,  in  1769,  302  ;  ad- \njournment of  the  court  to,  227  ; \nferry  to,  131  ;  meetings  of  the \nprovincial  congress  at,  358,  360  ; \nreceives  its  name,  107  ;  reception \nof  Washington  in,  in  1789,  402 \n\nCambridge  platform,  departed \nfrom,    199 \n\nCanals,  beginnings  of,  44S \n\n\n488 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nCanso,  garrison  at,  surprised,  244 \n\nCapital  offences  in  yVmerica  and \nEngland,  I2i \n\nCarpets  not  known  in  early  Bos- \nton, 400 \n\nCarrying  trade,  prosperity  of  the, \n414 \n\nCatholics,  fear  of  the,  102 \n\nCaucus  Club,  the,  221 \n\nCaulker's  Club,  the,  223,  235 \n\nCelebrations,  anniversaries,  etc., \ninfluence  of,  294 \n\n\"  Centennial,\"  the  first,  in  Boston, \n231 \n\nCentennial  period,  the,  473,  474 \n\nChandelier,  the  word  attracts  the \nattention  of  Gen.  Putnam,  374 \n\nChanning.  William  E.,  influence \nof,  446  ;  shows  his  sympathy  with \nthe  opponents  of  slavery,  464 \n\nChapman,  Jonathan,  mayor,  456 \n\nCharles  I.  grants  a  charter  to  set- \ntlers in  New  England,  3 \n\nCharles  II.  not  \"  proclaimed  \"  in \nBoston,  139 \n\nCharlestown,  annexation  of,  470  ; \nbridge  to,  built,  408 \n\nCharlton  becomes  the  capital,  41 \n\nCharter,  the  Massachusetts,  pro- \nposal to  take  it  to  America.  5  ; \ntransfer  of  the,  discussed,  6  ;  the, \ndemanded  by  the  king,  122; \ndiffering  views  of  the  nature  of, \n193  ;  the  '  explanatory  \"  (1725), \n213  ;  rights  under  the,  6  ;  rights \nunder  the,  proclaimed,  140 ; \nstrifggle  for  it  between  the  king \nand  the  colonists,  151,  153,  etc. \n\nCharters,  abrogation  of  the,  advo- \ncated, 209 \n\nChauncy,  Charles,  reads  the  Dec- \nlaration of  Independence  in  his \npulpit,  385  ;  on  the  union  of  the \ncolonies,  355 \n\nChrist  Church  (Boston),  lanterns \nhung  in  the  steeple  of,  361 \n\nChrist  Church.  Cambridge,  273 \n\nChurch,  Benjamin,  brought  for- \nward, 263  ;  delivers  an  oration \ncommemorating    the    massacre. \n\n\n332  ;  a  writer  on  the  side  of \nEngland,  325 \n\nChurch  green,  site  of  the  New \nSouth  meeting-house,  221 \n\nChurch  of  England,  feelings  of \nWinthrop  towards,  30  ;  the,  sus- \npected, 273 \n\nChurch,  the  Episcopal,  begins  to \nthrive,  162 \n\nCluirch,  the,  of  New  England, \ncharacter  of,  according  to  Hub- \nbard, 78 \n\nChurch  music,  117 \n\nChurch  services  in  the  early  days, \n180 \n\nCincinnati,  Society  of  the,  fears \nabout,  405 \n\nCisterns  provided  for  use  in  case \nof  fire,  431 \n\nCitizen,  an  indignant,  writes  to \nthe  Advertiser,  410 \n\nCity,    movements    toward  a,   420- \n\n,423 \nClergy,  limits  to  the  influence  of, \n\n72  ;  a  new,  sought  by  Randolph, \n\n181 \nClub,  the  Anthology,  478 \nClub,  a  whig,  advocates  the  rights \n\nof  the  people,  in  1747,  264 \nClymer,  George,  on  liberty,  337 \nCobb,  Samuel  C,  mayor,  456 \nCobbler,  the  Simple,  of  Agawam, \n\nmentioned,  26;  on  fashions,  138 \nCochituate    Lake,   water    obtained \n\nfrom,  435,  455 \nCodfish  and  cranberries  sent  to  the \n\nking.  144 \nCoinage  of  money  complained   of \n\nby  Randolph,  153 \nColeridge,  S.  T.,  influence  of,  459 \nColman,    Benjamin,  first  pastor  of \n\nthe  Manifesto  Church,  199,  200  ; \n\n\"  lashes  \"  the  Mathers,  202 \nColonization  of  America,  I \nColonists,  invited  to  Ireland,  125  ; \n\nsome  leave  Boston,  98 \nColumn,  the,  on  Beacon  Hill,  453  ; \nCome-Couters,  the,  459 \nCommencement    at    Harvard,    as \n\ndescribed  by  Byles,  237,  238 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n489 \n\n\nCommerce,  depressed  by  war  debts, \n400 ;  ysrosperity  of,  449;  suf- \nfered   during    the     Revolution, \n\n398 \n\nCommissioners  from  the  king,  ex- \npected to  take  the  government \nfrom  the  people,  140,  141  ;  ar- \nrive, but  effect  nothing,  142 \n\nCommissions,  roving,  of  the  king's \ngovernors,  1 91 \n\nCommon,  the  Boston,  ovvfed  to  the \ninfluence  of  Winthrop,  73  ;  cows \npastured  on,  438  ;  the  water  that \nonce  washed  its  shores,  410 \n\nConcert  Hall,  situation  of,  394. \n\nConcord,  \"battle\"  at,  361  ;  pro- \nvincial Congress  formed  at,   357 \n\nConfederation,  the  New  England, \nof  if>43,  origin  of,  93 \n\nCongregational  Church,  the,  447 \n\nCongress,  of  the  colonies  called, \n351  ,  a  continental,  wished  by \nSamuel  Adams,  337  ;  the  con- \ntinental, delegates  to,  358  ;  the \nfirst  of  the  colonies,  249  ;  meets \nat  Philadelphia.  3S3  ;  a  pro- \nvincial, favored  by  the  \"county \nmeeting,\"  356  ;  the  provincial, \norganized  at  Concord,  357  ;  the \nstamp  act.  2S0 \n\nConscience,  liberty  of,  77,  106  ; \nfreedoni  of.  to  be  extended  to \nusers  t)f  the  prayer-book.  139  ; \nshould  be  free,  thought  Salton- \nstall.  65 \n\nConscientiousness  in  early  times, \n219 \n\nConstitution,  the  new,  of  Afassa- \nchusetts,  adopted,  391,  403,  404  ; \ndebate  on  the  adoption  of,  350 \n\nConstitution  of  the  United  States, \nratification  of  the,  474 \n\nContraction  of  marriage,  17S \n\nCooper,  Rev.  Samuel,  pastor  of  the \nBrattle  Street  church,  200 \n\nCooper,    Rev.    William,   pastor  of \n\nthe  Brattle  Street  church,  200 \nCoote,  Richard,  Earl  of  Bellomont, \n\n189,  196 \nCopp's   (Windmill)   Hill,   58  ;   the \n\n\nburial-place  of  the  Mathers,  213; \n\ndigging  away  of,  413 \nCorn  a  legal  tender,  98 \nCorn-stalks,  sugar  and  molasses  to \n\nbe  made  from,  3S8,  389 \nCorrespondence,     committees     of, \n\n279  ;    meet,    350  ;    opposed     by \n\nHancock,    391  ;    plan   for,    326, \n\n327-  334 \nCotting,    Uriah,   important  project \n\nof,  410 \n\nCotton,  Rev.  John,  arrives,  70, \n130  ;  disapproves  of  democracy, \n83  ;  expected  by  \\Vinthrop  at \nGroton,  28  ;  on  Roger  Williams, \n66,  76  ;  overrates  his  clerical \npower;  72  ;  prepares  \"  Moses,  his \nJudicials,\"  119 \n\nCotton's  Hill,  a  name  of  Pember- \nton  Hill,  413 \n\nCouncil  for  New  England,  records \nof,  edited  by  Charles  Deane,  3 \n\nCounty  meeting,  a,  held  at  Ded- \nham  and  Milton,  355 \n\nCouriers,  a  system  of,  established \nby  the  county  meeting,  356 \n\nCourt,  the  Great  and  General, \nformed,  5  ;  troubled  about  a \nsow,  89,  90  ;  adjourns  to  Cam- \nbridge. 210  ;  adjourns  to  Salem, \n226  ;  adjourns,  hoping  for  some \n\"  unhappy  accident,\"  160  ;  meets \nat  Salem,  and  a^jpoints  dele- \ngates    to     Congress,     352,    353, \n\n354 \nCourtship  in  the  Winthrop  family, \n\n27.  54 \nCoves,  the,  of  Boston,  58 \nCows   pastured    on    the    Common \n\nuntil  182S,  438 \nCradle    of     Liberty,     a    name    of \n\nFaneuil    Hall,    235 \nCradock,    Matthew,    governor     of \n\nthe  Massachusetts  Company,  5 \nCrafts,  Thomas,  reads  the  Declara- \ntion of  Independence  in  Boston \n\nthe  first  time,  3S4 \nCredit,  bills  of,  banish  coin,  2c8 \nCreeping  statesmen  infest  Boston, \n\n173 \n\n\n490 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nCromwell  invites  colonists  to  Ire- \nland and  Jamaica,  125 \nCromwell's  Head  tavern,  408 \nCross  in  the  flag,  the,  disapproved, \n\n^  76,  174 \n\nCurfew  bell,  the,  114 \n\nCurrency,  paper,  depreciation  of, \n229  ;  troubles  with,  209 \n\nCurwen,  Samuel,  \"Journal\"  of, \nquoted,  397  ;  remarks  of,  about \nchanges  in  society,  3S7,  396 \n\nCushing,  Thomas,  appointed  dele- \ngate to  Congress,  35S \n\nCustoms,  early  Bostonian,  114 \n\nCutler,  Manasseh,  negotiates  with \nCongress  about  western  lands, \n408 \n\n\nD \n\n\nDalrymple,  Col.,  decides  to  remove \ntroops,  316 \n\nDancing  opposed  in  early  days,  175 \n\nDancing-school,  an,  established, \n176 \n\nDartmouth,  the  first  tea-ship,  ap- \npears in  Boston  harbor,  338 \n\nDavis,  Thomas  A.,  mayor,  456 \n\nDawes,  William,  sent  to  Lexing- \nton, 360 \n\nDave,  Stephen,  the  first  printer, \nI'lS \n\nDeaf-mutes,  schools  for,  444 \n\nDeane,  Charles,  communicates  to \nthe  Historical  Society  about \nJohn  Hull's  house,  162  ;  edits \nthe  records  of  the  Council  for \nNew  England,  3  ;  on  the  Coun- \ncil for  New  England,  2  ;  on  the \ngift  of  Boston  to  Ireland,  150 \n\nDebt,  the,  of  England,  increase  of, \n\n277 \n\nDebt,  the,  public,  increased  by  the \nLouisburg  expedition,  247 \n\nDebts  incurred  during  the  Revolu- \ntion, 398,  400 \n\nDemocracy,  a,  not  intended  by  the \nfounders  of  New  England,  83  ; \na  simple,  the  government  of \nBoston,  418 \n\n\nDiary,    the,     of    John    Winthrop, \n\nbegun,   32 \nDickinson,  John,  on  the  American \n\nCongress,  355 \n\"  Dippers  Dipt,\"  the,  bv  P^atley, \n\nDiscourse  on  Government,  by  John \nWinthrop,  6 \n\nDisplay  opposed  by  Samuel  Adams, \n.390 \n\nDiscussion  in  Boston  before  the \nRevolution,  274 \n\nDistress,  financial,  after  the  wars, \n208 \n\nDorchester  Heights  fortified,  366, \n374,  406 \n\nDorchester  Neck  annexed  and \ncalled  South  Boston,  409 \n\nDress  thoroughly  studied  in  early \nBoston,  400 \n\nDrinking  too  much  punished,  69 \n\nDruiletes,  Gabriel,  the  Jesuit  mis- \nsionary, visits  Boston,  103  ; \nsays  the  first  mass  in  Boston, \n103 \n\nDudley,  Joseph,  chosen  governor \nby  Charles  II.,  159  ;  disappoints \nthe  expectations  of  Randolph, \n161  ;  made  governor,  200;  de- \ngeneracy of,  153  ;  his  demand \nfor  a  salary,  how  met,  192  ; \ndeath  of,   205 \n\nDudley,  Thomas,  one  of  the  first \nsettlers  in  Boston,  20  ;  deputy- \ngovernor,  traits  of,  66  ;  receives \nDruiletes,  the  Jesuit  missionary, \n103 \n\nDummer,  William,  governor  ad \ninterim,  212 \n\nDunkirkers,  dangers  from,  35 \n\nDunster,  Henry,  becomes  presi- \ndent of  Harvard  College,  108  ; \nfinds  himself  at  odds  with  his \nchurch  about  baptism,  109  ;  is \nobliged  to  vacate  his  office,  109 \n\nDuties  levied  on  goods  imported \nfrom  England  and  the  West \nIndies,  211 \n\nDwellings,  in  early  days,  115  ;  fur- \nniture of,  400 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n491 \n\n\nEaton,  Nathaniel,  is  made  head  of \nHarvard  College,  107  ;  he  beats \nhis  usher  brutally,  107  ;  feeds \nhis  scholars  poorly,  107  ;  is  cast \nout,  and  goes  to  \\'irginia,  108 \n\nEducation  in  early  Boston,  439, \n441 \n\nElection,  methods  of,  85 \n\nElection  Sermon,  the,  before  the \nartillery  company,  241 \n\nEliot,  the  Rev.  John,  apostle  to \nthe  Indians,  exchanges  civilities \nwith  Druiletes,  103,  104,  136 \n\nEliot,  Samuel  Atkins,  mayor,  456 \n\nEllis,  Dr.  G.  E.,  describes  the \ntrials  of  the  colonists,  126  ;  on \nthe  motives  of  the  early  emi- \ngrants, 31  ;  on  the  transfer  of \nthe  charter,    9 \n\nEmbargo,  the,  effect  of,  in  Boston, \n415,  416 \n\nEmerson,  George  B.,  labors  to  im- \nprove the  school  system,  456 \n\nEmerson,  R.  W.,  interested  in \nColeridge,  459 \n\nEmerson,  William,  begins  the \nAthenreum,    476 \n\nEmigrant  Aid  Society,  the,  found- \ned, 466 \n\nEmigration,  falls  off  in  1631,  65  ; \nnumbers  who  came  over,  95 \n\nEndicott,  Governor  John,  cuts  the \ncross  out  of  the  flag,  76  ;  goes  to \nSalem,  2  ;  meets  Winthrop  on \nhis  arrival  at  Salem,  37 \n\nEngines,  fire,  opposition  to  the  use \n\nof,  432 \n\nEngland,  claims  America  by  virtue \nof  Cabot's  discovery,  i  ;  decides \nto  be  \"  civil  and  conciliating,\" \n144 ;  endeavors  to  restrict  the \ntrade  of  Boston  in  1785,  414  ; \nsees  evidence  of  independence, \n88  ;  supposed  to  need  American \nmoney  to  pay  its  debts,  255 \n\nEngland,  Church  of,  discounte- \nnanced, 153 \n\nEnglish  high-school,  the,  443 \n\n\nEpiscopal  Church,  the,   growth  of \n\n447 \n\nEpiscopalians  encouraged  by  Ran- \ndolph, 161 \n\nEpiscopal  service  held  in  Boston \nfor  the  first  time,  1 61 \n\nEquality  of  men,  the,  supported  by \nOtis,  272 \n\nEvelyn,  John,  on  the  independency \nof  Boston,  143 \n\nEverett,  Edward,  at  the  Federal \nStreet  church,  446  ;  gives  his \nbooks  to  the  Public  Library, \n476  ;  on  slavery,  464 \n\nExportations,  prohibited  from  Bos- \nton,'415;  renewed  by  British \nmerchants,  307 \n\nExtent  of  the  American  continent \nas  seen  by  early  colonists,  3 \n\nF \n\nFactory  towns  increase,  452 \n\nFalmouth,  now  Portland,  Adams \nat,  362 \n\nFamilists,  the,  errors  of,  79 \n\nFamine  in  Boston,  52 \n\nFaneuil  Hall,  a  business  men's \nmeeting  in,  in  1785,  414;  im- \nportant meetings  in,  422  ;  Love- \njoy  meeting  in,  464 ;  meeting \nagainst  abolitionism,  463  ;  meet- \ning in,  to  condemn  the  Ursuline \nConvent  riot,  468  ;  meeting  in, \nto  oppose  the  importation  of \ntea,  338  ;  meetings  in,  to  protest \nagainst  extravagance,  392  ;  occu- \npied by  troops,  300  ;  site  of,  60. \n\nFaneuil  Hall  market,  built,  234, \n235  ;  inadequate,  433 \n\nFaneuil,  Peter,  proposes  to  build  a \nmarket-house,  234 \n\nFast,  the  first,  41 \n\ntoasts  and  thanksgivings,  179 \n\nP'ather  of  America,  the,  379 \n\nFederalist  leaders  receive  an  offer \nfrom  England,  415 \n\nFederalist:,,  the,  support  the  Massa- \nchusetts constitution,  404 \n\nFederal  Street  Church,  convention, \nin,  474 \n\n\n492 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nFederal  Street,  why  so  named,  404 \nFemale  Anti-Slavery  Society,  meet- \ning of,  463 \nFerry,    a,    established    to    Charles- \ntown,  69 \nFeudalism  feared  on  account  of  the \nformation  of  the  Society  of  the \nCincinnati,  405 \nFinances,  the,  of  Boston  retrieved \nfrom  confusion  by  Mayor Quincy, \n432 \nFinancial  distress,  208 \nFines  as  punishments,  69 \nFire,  the  great,  of  1872,  480 \nFires,  confusion  at,  431  ;  provision \nagainst,  in  early  times,  431,  478  ; \nreform  in  management  of,  430  ; \nthe  notable,  in  Boston,  478 \nFisheries,  interest  of  Samuel  Adams \n\nin,  403 \nFlats,  contract  for  filling,  455,  456 \nFleet,  a  British,  comes  to  Boston, \n\n324 \n\nFloors  uncarpeted  in  early  Boston, \n400 \n\nFlynt,  Tutor,  opinion  of  White- \nfield,  233 \n\nFones,  Priscilla,  matrimonial  affair \nof,  26 \n\nFood  in  early  days,  62 \n\nFort  Hill,  efforts  to  fortify,  379  ; \nnow    cut    away,    58  ;     levelled, \n\n454 \n\nFortunes  made  during  the  Revo- \nlution, 400 \n\nFoster,  John,  the  first  Boston  print- \ner, 119 \n\nFourth  of  July,  the  noisy  celebra- \ntion of,  owed  to  John  Adams, \n3S4  ;  takes  the  place  of  other \nanniversaries,  319 \n\nFoxcroft,  Rev.  Thomas,  preaches \na  centennial  sermon,  231 \n\nFrance,  alliance  with.  394  ;  a  ficti- \ntious war  with,  provided  against, \n299 \n\nFranklin,  Benjamin,  colonial  agent \nin  London,  34S  ;  examined  by \nthe  House  of  Commons,  288  ; \nin  favor  of   paying  for  the  tea \n\n\ndestroyed,  354 ;  obtains  some \nletters  of  Hutchinson,  335 \n\nFranklin,  James,  begins  a  paper  in \nBoston,  211 \n\nFranklins,  the,  do  not  reverence \nthe  Mathers,  212 \n\nFreemen,  oath  of  the,  85  ;  must \nbelong  to  churches,  84  ;  seek  to \nenlarge  their  share  in  the  govern- \nment, 85  ;  semi-annual  meetings \nof,  how  warned,  418 \n\nFree-Soil  Party,  the,  465 \n\nFrench,  the,  at  Acadie,  relations \nwith,  99,  100 \n\nFrog  Pond,  water  let  into,  from \nCochituate  Lake,  455 \n\nFrothingham,  \"O.  B.,  quoted,  458, \n460 \n\nFugitive  Slave  Act,  the.  denounced, \n466 \n\nFuller.  Margaret,  and  Transcen^ \ndentalism,  459 \n\nFuneral,  the,  of  the  boy  Schneider, \n\n309 \nFunerals,  how  conducted,  177,  178  ; \nof  the  victims  of  the  massacre, \n316 \n\nG \n\nGage,  General,  arrives  in  Boston \nas  governor,  351  ;  character  of, \n352  ;  collects  troops,  builds  bar- \nracks and  fortifications,  356  ;  dis- \nsolves the  general  court  at  Salem, \n354  ;  on  the  Boston  people,  363  ; \nrecalled  after  the  battle  of  Bunker \nHill,  371  ;  receives  a  protest \nagainst  the  presence  of  troops, \n302  ;  sends  troops  to  Concord, \n360 \n\nGammell,  Prof.  William,  \"  Life  of \nRoger  Williams,\"  66 \n\nGannett,  Ezra  Stiles,  in  the  Fed- \neral Street  church,  446 \n\nGardiner,  Sir  Christopher,  ban- \nished, 64 \n\nGardiner,  S.  R.,  \"  History  of  Eng- \nland.\" quoted,  5  ;  on  the  charac- \nter of  Margaret  Winthrop,  16  ; \non  independency  in  Boston,  88 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n493 \n\n\nGarments  of  men  and  women  in \nearly  days,  218 \n\nGarrison  monument,  the,  467 \n\nGarrison,  William  Lloyd,  and  abo- \nlitionism, 461  ;  dragged  through \nthe  streets,  463  ;  likened  to  Sam- \nuel Adams,  466  ;  monument,  467 \n\nGaston,  William,  mayor,  456 \n\nGates,  General,  in  command  of  the \narmy  about  Boston,  379 \n\nGeorge  III.  expresses  his  \"  unalter- \nable \"  determination,  372 \n\nGermaine,  Lord  George,  on  the  in- \nfluence of  town-meetings,  345 \n\nGibbons,  Mrs.  Edward,  goes  to \nPullen  Point,  gg \n\nGilman,  Arthur,  plans  improve- \nments in  the  Back  Bay,  454 \n\nGilman,  Nicholas,  makes  out  a \n\"  carnal  \"  scheme,  248 \n\nGirls'  high-school,  the,  revived,  442 \n\nGirls'  Latin  school,  the,  founded, \n442 \n\nGirls,  opportunities  for  education, \n\n439.  440 \n\nGloves  and  rings  at  funerals  227, \n228 \n\nGold  obtained  for  rum.  399 \n\nGordon,  William,  on  the  Caucus \nClub.  221  ;  his  \"  American  Rev- \nolution,\" quoted,  277 \n\nGorges,  F.,  \"America  Painted  to \nthe  l-ife,\"  4 \n\nGorham.town  of,  favors  liberty, 329 \n\nGospel,  intention  to  carry  it  to  the \nIndians.  14 \n\nGout,  the,  an  old  friend  of  Han- \ncock, 350.  403 \n\nGovernment,  a  continental  de- \nmanded, 381 \n\nGovernment  of  Boston,  the.  418  ; \ninefficient,  420  ;  loose  methods \nin.  422  ;  suffers  a  change,  83 \n\nGovernments,  local,  recommended \nby  the  Continental  Congress.  381 \n\nGovernors,  royal,  number  of,  195  ; \nnot  successful,  206  ;  popular \nfeeling,  towards,  197  ;  time  of \nthe,  a  period  of  constant  strife, \n189 \n\n\nGrace-cup,  a,  presented  to  Harvard \nCollege  by  William  Dummer, \n217 \n\nGrammar    schools,    course   in   the, \n\n445 \n\nGranary  burying-ground,  the  rest- \ning-place of  the  victims  of  the \nmassacre,  317 \n\nGray,  Edward,  begins  rope-mak- \ning, 310 \n\nGray,  Harrison,  grandfather  of \nHarrison  Gray  Otis,  310  ;  warns \na  young  gentleman  against  in- \ntemperate language,  342 \n\nGreat  tree,  the,  at  Essex  Street, \n281,  287,  291 \n\nGreen,  J.  R.,  on  the  condition  of \nPuritan  England,  16 \n\nGreene,  Gardiner,  estate  of,  413  ; \nmansion  of,  occupied  by  Earl \nPercy,  370 \n\nGreene,  Samuel  A.,  mayor,  456 \n\nGridley,  Jeremiah,  opens  the  case \nin  favor  of  writs  of  assistance.  269 \n\nGriffin,  E.  D.,  pastor  of  the  Park \nStreet  church,  447 \n\nGriffin's  wharf,  the  tea-party  at,  342 \n\nGroton,  Suffolk,  the  home  of  John \nWinthrop,  ir \n\nGroton,  sale  of  the  homestead  at, \n\n51 \n\nH \n\nHair-cutting,  views  regarding,  215 \nHair,    long,   not    to    be    tolerated, \n\n136 \nHancock,  J.,  appointed  delegate \nto  Congress,  358  ;  arrested,  301  ; \ncharged  with  smuggling,  296  ; \nin  conflict  with  Washington, \n402  ;  delivers  an  oration  written \nby  Adams,  349,  350 ;  dwelling \nof,  occupied  by  Gen.  Clinton, \n370  ;  entertains  the  French  offi- \ncers, 394  ;  enters  college,  258  ; \n\"exposes\"  letters  of  Hutchin- \nson, 335  ;  gives  a  great  dinner, \n289  ;  opposed  to  the  nomination \nof  Washington,  391  ;  ostentation \nof,    402  ;    refuses   to   order   the \n\n\n494 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\ncadets  to   support    Hutchinson, \n\n339 \n\nHancock  and  Adams,  character- \nistics of  each,  390 ;  dissensions \nbetween  and  reconciliation  of, \n391  ;  excepted  from  a  proclama- \ntion by  Gage,  365  ;  outla\\\\s,  383 \n\nHangings,  public,  opposed  by \nQuincy,  429 \n\nHanover  Square,  an  open  space \naround  the  Liberty  Tree,  291 \n\nHart,  Thomas  N.,  mayor,  456 \n\nHartford  Convention,  the,  charac- \nterized, 416 \n\nHarvard  Bridge,  the,  409 \n\nHarvard  College  begins  in  a  school, \n106  ;  commencement  in  early \ndays,  237,  23S  ;  criticiaed  by \nWhitefield,  232,  233  ;  \"  danger- \nous\" teachings  at,  199;  a  nur- \nsery of  seditious  preachers,  182  ; \nought  to  be  suppressed,  182; \nreorganization  of,  by  Josiah \nQuincy,  437  ;  its  original  pur- \npose, 439  ;  students  assert  their \npatriotism,  300 \n\nHarvard  examinations  for  women, \n\n443 \n\nHarvard,  Rev.  John,  becomes \nbenefactor  of  the  college,  107 \n\nHealth,  Board  of,  declares  the \nBack-Bay  region  a  nuisance,  412 \n\nHealth-drinking,    disapproved,    51 \n\nHeath,  General,  called  upon  to \nlend  a  book,  373 \n\nHenry,  Patrick,  draws  up  the \n\\'irginia  resolves,  278  ;  makes \na  celebrated  speech  against  the \nstamp  act,  280 ;  proposes  a \ncongress,  280  ;  provides  for  inter- \ncolonial correspondence,  334 \n\nHigginson,  the  Rev.  Francis,  sails \nfor  America,  4 \n\nHigh-school,  course  in  the,  445  ; \na,  for  girls,  in  Boston,  440 \n\nHicjh  and  Latin  school  building, \nthe,  444 \n\nHills,  the,  of  Boston,  58 \n\nHistoric-Genealogic  Society,  the, \n475 \n\n\nHistory,  interest  in,  474 \n\nHolyoke,  President  Edward,  testi- \nfies against  Whitefield,  233 \n\nHomespun  goods,  399  ;  admired, \n286 \n\nHooker,  Rev.  Thomas,  130; \npreaches  a  long  sermon,  in \nCambridge,  117 \n\nHoosac  mountain  to  be  tunnelled, \n448 \n\nHope,  the  ship,  captured  when  en- \ntering Boston  harbor.  380 \n\nHosmer,  J.  K.,  \"  Life  of  Adams,\" \nquoted,  295,  329,  349 \n\nHouse  of  Correction  established,  70 \n\nHowe,  Estes,  settles  the  site  of  the \nhouse  of  John  Hull,  162 \n\nHowe,  General,  arrives  at  Boston, \n363  ;  on  the  Battle  of  Bunker \nHill,   367 \n\nHowes,  the,  hatred  of,  369 \n\nHubbard,  William,  historian,  quot- \ned, 32  ;  on  the  enemies  of  New \nEngland,  78 \n\nHull,  John,  site  of  his  house,  162 \n\nIfumanity,  the  enthusiasm  of,  459 \n\nHumfrey,  John,  an  original  settler, \n21 \n\nHutchinson,  Anne,  comes  to  Bos- \nton, 74 ;  character  of,  79  ; \nbanned,  80 \n\nHutchinson,  Edward,  sent  against \nPhilip,  147 \n\nHutchinson,  Thomas,  alarmed  by \nthe  action  of  Massachusetts \ntowns,  330 ;  assumes  the  man- \nagement of  affairs.  306  ;  charac- \nter of,  and  descent  of,  265,  266  ; \ncharacterizes  the  first  committee \nof  correspondence,  327  ;  his  de- \nmand for  a  salary,  how  opposed, \n192  ;  favors  extreme  measures, \n308  ;  fatuity  of,  330  ;  favors  a \nhard-money  currency,  248  ;  flees \nfrom  his  home,  2S4  ;  his  \"His- \ntory of  Massachusetts\"  quoted, \n4,  266  ;  his  house  mobbed,  2S3  ; \nimpotent  to  support  the  tax  col- \nlectors, 339 ;  investigates  the \nmassacre,   312  ;  leaves  for  Eng- \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n495 \n\n\nland,  352  ;  letters  of,  theatrically \nexposed,  335  ;  made  governor, \n322  ;  on  the  means  used  by \nSamuel  Adams,  37S  ;  on  the \nmurder  of  a  \"poor  German,\" \n310;  .his  power  gone,  349;  re- \ncall of,  demanded,  226  ;  on  the \nsecond  generation  of  statesmen \nin  Boston,  173  ;  surrenders  the \nCastle  to  Major  Dalrymple,  322  ; \non  the  uneasiness  of  the  people, \n\n85 \nHydraulion,  a,  purchased  by  Mayor \nQuincy,  431 \n\nI \n\nImportations   opposed   by   Boston, \n\n351 \n\nImpressment  of  seamen,  252  ;  on \nthe  Rointiey,  296 \n\nIndependency,  the  aim  at,  traced \nto  Governor  Winthrop,  451  ; \nalmost  a  fact  in  1671,  144;  an \navowal  of,  according  to  Hutchin- \nson, 334  ;  danger  of  the  approach \nof,  according  to  Hutchinson, \n330  ;  declared,  383,  384  ;  desire \nfor,  the  controlling  passion  from \nthe  beginning,  275  ;  desire  for, \ncharged  to  the  Bostonians,  209  ; \ndisavowed  as  an  intention,  279  ; \ndreaded  by  the  tories,  381  ;  evi- \ndences of  a  feeling  of,  8  ;  the \nfirst  declaration  of,  10  ;  the  great \ntopic  before  the  Congress  of \n1776,  383  ;  indicated  by  the \ncoinage  of  money,  139  ;  indica- \n•  tions  of,  121,  151  ;  jealously \nwatched  by  the  king's  governors, \n191  ;  looking  towards,  87 ;  a \nmove  towards,  made  by  Adams, \n237,  239  ;  planned  by  Adams, \n265  ;  prophesied  by  Governor \nPovvnall,  261  ;  signs  of,  95  ;  the \nson  of  Liberty,  281  ;  supported \nby  biblical  arguments,  190 \n\nIndians,  gives  trouble,  145  ;  as \nservants,  115  ;  shut  out  of  Bos- \nton, 151 \n\nIndian  strife,  results  of,  196 \n\n\nIndian  war  causes  anxiety  in  Bos- \nton, 258  ;  devastates  the  country, \n201 \n\nIndies,  searchers  for  the,  who \nthought  to  go  through  the  con- \ntinent, 3 \n\nIndividualism,  the,  of  the  religion \nof  Boston,  457 \n\nIndustries,  the  great,  of  Boston,  398 \n\nInformer,  an,  tarred  and  feathered, \n308 \n\nInnovations  in  government  op- \nposed, 421 \n\nInoculation  practised  by  Dr.  Boyl- \nston,  211 \n\nIntemperance  in  the  olden  time, \n196 \n\nIreland  sends  money  to  Boston,  150 \n\nIsms,  the,  of  Boston,  458 \n\nJ \n\nJames  I.  grants  a  charter,  2 \n\nJamaica  Pond  furnishes  water  to \nBoston,  435 \n\nJefferson,  Thomas,  influenced  by \nFederalist  representations,  416  ; \non  Samuel  Adams,  378 \n\nJenks,  William,  pastor  of  the  Park \nStreet  church.  447 \n\nJohnson,  Arl)ella,  an  original  set- \ntler, 21  ;  dies,  42 \n\nJohnson,  Isaac,  an  original  settler, \n21 \n\n\"  foice  junior\"  terrifies   royalists, \n\n\"387 \n\nJoseph,  The  Selling  of,  tract  by \nSewall,  218,  463 \n\nJudges,  the,  to  be  made  indepen- \ndent of  the  people,  326 \n\nJunketings  of  the  selectmen,  419 \n\nJury,  trial  by,  to  be  refused,  277 \n\nK \n\nKansas,  emigrants  sent  to,  466 \nKeayne,    Robert,    captain    of    the \n\nAncient  and  Honorable  Artillery \n\nCompany,  240;  and  the  widow's \n\npig,  88,  89 \nKidd,   William,   and    the   Earl  of \n\nBellomont,  19S \n\n\n496 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nKindergartens  established,  444         j \n\nKing,  the,  ignored  in  tlie  freeman's  ! \noath,  87 \n\nKing's  Chapel  built,  166 \n\nKirke,  Col.  Piercy,  chosen  as  gov- \nernor of  New  England,  156  ; \ncharacterized  by  Mather,  158        | \n\nKnowles,  Commodore  Sir  Charles,  j \nimpresses  seamen,  252  , \n\n\nLamb  abstained  from,  that  there \nmight  be  more  sheep  and  wool, \n285 \n\n\"  Land  Bank\"  scheme,  the,  230 \n\nLand  titles  disturbed  by  Randolph \nand  Andros.  167,  169 \n\nLanguage,  peculiar  use  of,  by  the \nMathers,  214 \n\nLatin  School,  the,  purpose  of,  441  ; \nboys  in  the,  440 \n\nLa  Tour  wishes  to  trade  with  Bos- \nton, 99 \n\nLaud,  Archbishop,  influence  of,  on \nNew  England,  81 \n\nLawrence,  Amos  A.,  sends  men  to \nKansas,  466 \n\nLaws,  the  early,  119 \n\nLawyers,  profession  of,  not  ad- \nmired, 206 \n\nLectures  at  the  Lowell  Institute, \n446 \n\nLee,  Arthur,  opposes  the  importa- \ntion of  tea,  337,  338 \n\nLee,  Richard  Henry,  apjjroves  in- \ntercolonial correspondence,  334  ; \nletter  of  Samuel  Adams  to,  on \nState  sovereignty,  403 \n\nLetters  of  John  Adams  and  his \nwife  quoted,  385,  386  (See \nAdams,  Mrs.  John) \n\nLetters,  the,  of  Hutchinson,  the- \natrically exposed,  335 \n\nLetters,  virulent,  written  by  the \nMathers,  201 \n\nLeverett,  John,  governor,  sends \nmen  against  Phil!]),  147 \n\nLexington,  \"battle\"  at,  361 \n\nLiberator,  The,  publication  of,  461 \n\n\nLiberties  abridged  under  the  king's \n\ngovernors,  160 \nLiberty,   not   always   distinguished \n\nfrom    license,    284  ;    movement \n\ntowards,   460  ;    threatened   by  a \n\nfleet,  324 \nLiberty   Hall  an  open  space,  287, \n\n291 \nLiberty  Party,  the,  formed,  465 \nLiberty  Tree,  the,  at  Essex  Street, \n\n287  ;    cut   down    by   the   British \n\nsoldiers,  371 \nLibrary,  the  Boston  Public,  475 \nLicenses  of  tipi>ling-houses  taken \n\naway  by  Mayor  Quincy,  430 \nLincoln,  F.  W.,  Jr.,  mayor,  456 \nLincoln  monument,  the,  483 \nLinn,    Henry,    whipped   and   ban- \nished, 64 \nLiverpool  wharf.  Tea-party  at,  342 \nLiving,  cost  of,  after  the  Revolution, \n\n386,  387  ;  in  Boston  in  early  days, \n\n\"5 \n\nLocal  governments  recommended \nby  the  Continental  Congress,  3S1 \n\nLondon,  city  of,  loses  its  charter, \n155  ;  affected  by  Boston's  re- \nstrictions on  trade,  415 \n\nLong  Lane,  name  of,  changed  to \nFederal  Street,  405 \n\nLong  Pond,  now  Lake  Cochituate, \nused  as  a  water-supjaly,  435 \n\nLothrop,  Rev.  Samuel  Ik.,  pastor \nof  the  Brattle  Street  church,  200 \n\nLoudoun,  Lord,  commander  of  the \nroyal  army,  260 \n\nLouisburg,  capture  of,  243,  247  ; \niron  cross  from,  256 \n\nLovejoy,  killing  of,  meeting  about, \n464 \n\nLovell,  Master  John,  gives  Faneuil \nHall  a  name,  235,  236 ;  im- \nprisonment of,  369  ;  closing  of \nthe  Latin  school  by,  423 \n\nLowell  Institute  founded  by  John \nLowell  in  1839,  446 \n\nLowell,  John,  establishes  the \nLowell    Institute,    445 \n\nLowell  railroad,  the,  ojiened,  450 \n\nLoyalists  find  refuge  in  Boston,  364 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n497 \n\n\nLoyalty,  defined  by  the  Independent \nAdvertiser,  265  ;  weakening  in \nBoston  in  1760,  260 \n\nLuxury,  after  the  Revohition,  400  ; \nopposition  of  John  Adams  to,  393 \n\nLyman,  Theodore,  Jr.,  mayor,  456 \n\nM \n\nMall,  breezes  that  once  blew  over \nthe,  410 ;  a  new,  on  Charles \nStreet,  432 \n\n\"Manifesto\"  Church,  the,  why  so \nnamed,  199 \n\nMann,  Horace,  improvements  in \nthe  school  system  by,  456  ;  in- \nfluence of,  in  education,  442 \n\nManufactory  House,  the,  a  place \nfor  the  celebration  of  the  mas- \nsacre, 319 \n\nManufacture,  the  chief,  before  the \nRevolution,  398 \n\nManufactures,  grow  up  in  Boston, \n98  ;  interfered  with  by  parlia- \nment, 194 ;  the  New  England \nSociety  for  the  promotion  of,  452  ; \nand  trade,  improve,  452 \n\nMarket-house,  designs  for  a  new \none,  by  Mayor  Quincy,  432  ; \nbuilding   of    a,    433 \n\nMarkets,  three  built,  and  de- \nstroyed,   234 \n\nMarriage  ceremony,  the,  in  early \ndays,    178 \n\nMarriage,  the  first,  in  the  Town \nHouse,    182 \n\nMarriages  solemnized  by  a  magis- \ntrate, 177 \n\nMarsh,  President,  introduces  the \nworks  of  Coleridge,  459 \n\nMartin,  Augustus  P.,  mayor,  456 \n\nMasked  ball,  a,  arranged  by  the \nBritish,   372 \n\nMass,  the  first,  in  Boston,  103 \n\nMassachusetts  becomes  the  Terri- \ntory of  Massachusetts  Bay,  371  ; \nthe  chief  industries  of,  in  1750, \n398  ;  colony  to  be  broken  up, \n124  ;  forms  a  local  government, \n356,    357,   381  ;  gives  up  to  the \n\n\nking  under  protest,  160  ;  named \nby  John  Smith,  2  ;  refuses  to  fur- \nnish troops  in  1814,  417 \n\nMassachusetts  Company,  the, \nformed,  4 \n\nMassachusetts  Historical  Society, \nthe  purposes  of,  475 \n\nMassacre,  the  Boston,  a  street  riot, \n276  ;  how  originated,  311,  312 \n313  ;  celebrated  in  1773,  332  ; \nin  1775,  35S,  359  ;  monument  to \ncommemorate,  483 \n\nMaster  of  the  Puppets,  a  name \ngiven  to  Adams  by  Hutchinson, \n306 \n\nMather,  Cotton,  character  of,  134, \n135  ;  on  danger  from  fire  in  Bos- \nton, 480  ;  on  the  death  of  Arbella \nJohnson,  42  ;  favors  inoculation, \n211  ;  his  opinion  of  Williams,  76; \nprepares  to  be  president  of  Har- \nvard College,  135  ;  is  disappoint- \ned, 135  ;  proposes  to  publish  a \ntract  on  slavery,  218  ;  on  reli- \ngious customs,  177 \n\nMather  dynasty,  the,  begins,  129 \n\nMather,  Rev.  Increase,  life  of, \n132  ;  called  a  \"bellows  of  sedi- \ntion and  treason,\"  184  ;  charac- \nterizes the  students  at  Harvard \nCollege,  439  ;  church  of,  burned, \n479  ;  connected  with  the  perse- \ncution of  witches,  186  ;  gives  an \nopinion  of  a  newspaper,  212  ; \nlaments  the  bad  times,  199  ;  sent \nto  England  to  plead  with  the \nking,  168  ;  has  some  success  in \nEngland,  171  ;  strong  words  of, \non  the  charter,  154  ;  writes  the \nfirst  book  printed  in  Boston,  1 19 \n\nMather,  Increase  and  Cotton, \ndeaths  of,   213 \n\nMather,  Richard,  arrives,  129 \n\nMather,  Samuel,  loses  his  library \nand  the  books  of  Cotton  and  In- \ncrease Mather,  at  the  Battle  of \nBunker  Hill,  367 \n\nMather  and  \\\\'illard  refuse  the  use \nof  the  Old  .South  for  Episcopal \nworship,  165 \n\n\n498 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nMathers,  the,  opponents  of  Dudley, \n20I \n\nMaverick,  Samuel,  at  Winnisim- \nmet,   38 \n\n]\\Iay flower,  the  ship,  carries  emi- \ngrants to  Boston,  32 \n\nMayhew,  Jonathan,  denies  the \npower  of  parliament  over  reli- \ngion, 274 ;  preaches  a  notable \nsermon,  283  ;  writes  al>out  lib- \nerty, 281 \n\nMayoralty,  difficulty  about,  at  the \norganization  of  the  city  govern- \nment, 422 \n\nMayors,  the,  of  Boston,  438  ;  list \nof,  45*^  ^ \n\nMechanics'  Institute,  the  Boston, \n452 \n\nMedford,  once  Mystic,  40 \n\nMeeting-house,  the  first,  61,  116; \nits  second  building,  179 \n\nMeeting,  talking  in,  forbidden,  137 \n\nMemorial  Association,  the  Boston, \n\n474 \nMilitary    companies    formed    upon \n\nthe  passage  of  the  port  bill,  351 \nMilitia,  the,  in  early  Boston,  241  ; \n\ntraining-day  for,  69 \nMill  Corporation,  the  Boston  and \n\nRoxbury,  scheme  of,  410 \nMill  Cove  and  Creek,  58 \nMill  Cove,  filled  up  with  soil  from \n\nBeacon   Hill,  454  ;   filling  up  of \n\nthe,  412 \nISIill  Creek,  filling  up  of,  412 \nMill-dam,  building  of  the,  410 \nMill    Pond,     limits    of,     in    early \n\ndays,  59  ;   filling  uj)  of  the,  412, \n\n413 \n\nMinisters,  influence  of,  87  ;  invited \nto  emigrate,  25 \n\nMinot's  continuation  of  Hutchin- \nson's History,  quoted,  398 \n\nMinute-men  enrolled,  358 \n\n\"  Model  of  Christian  Charity,\"  a \nwork  by  John  Winthrop,  48 \n\nMolasses  act,  forfeitures  under  the, \n268  ;  the,   enforced    by    Paxton, \n\n254 \n\nMolasses    distilled    into     rum    by \n\n\nGage,  369  ;  price  of.  after  the \nRevolution,  387 \n\nMoney,  the  coinage  of,  in  Boston, \n139  ;  trouble  about,  208 \n\nMontreal,  fall  of,  259 \n\nMorning  gun  of  the  Revolution, \nthe,   274 \n\nMorton,  Thomas,  of  WoUaston, \nsent  to  England,  64  ;  punished \nfor  \"  cheating  Indians,\"  50 \n\nMotto  of  Boston  city,  425 \n\n\"  Mr.\"  Plastowe,  to  be  called \nJosias,  69 \n\nMugford,  Captain,  captures  a  ves- \nsel with  powder,  380 \n\nMinister,  excesses  at,  78,  105 \n\nMusic,  instrumental,  not  relished, \n200 \n\nMutiny  act,  the,  passed,  280 \n\n\nN \n\n\nNaumkeag,    the    early    name    for \n\nSalem,   2 \nNavigation,   the   act   of,   interferes \n\nwith  commerce,  140 \nNeck,  change  in  the  width  of,  456, \n\n470 \nNegroes,     traffic    in,     disliked    by \n\nSewall,  218 \nNew    England    as    seen   by    John \n\nWinthrop,  49,  51 \nNew  England,  Council  for,  formed, \n\n2 \n\nNew  England  people  awkward, \naccording  to  John  Adams,  386 \n\nNew  Hampshire,  boundary  trouble, \n230  ;  forms  a  local  government, \n^381 \n\njVe7us-Lcflfi\\  ill  success  of  the,  211 \n\nNew  South  church,  the,  222 \n\nNewspapers,  origin  of,  in  Boston, \n202 \n\nNewspaper,  the  third,  begun  by \nJames  Franklin,   21 1 \n\nNew  Town  (Cambridge)  fortified, \n69  ;  a  college  to  be  established \nat,  106  ;  once  destined  to  be  the \ncapital,  67  ;  becomes  Cambridge, \n107 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n499 \n\n\nNew  York  becomes  larger  than \nBoston,  398  ;  political  princi- \nples of,   337 \n\nNon-importation  agreements,  2S5  ; \nforetold,  278 \n\nNorcross,  Otis,  mayor,  456 \n\nNormal  schools  founded,  442 \n\nNorth  End,  the,  loses  its  prece- \ndence, 3g7  ;  outlines  of,  397 \n\nNorth,  Lord,  thinks  the  people  of \nBoston  a  \"  riotous  rabble,\"  346 \n\nNorth  meeting-house,  the,  pulled \ndown  for  firewood,  370 \n\nNorthwestern  territory,  plan  for  in- \nfluencing, 406 \n\nNorton,  Rev.  John,  of  Boston,  130, \n\n131 \nNorton,  Rev.   John,   of  Hingham, \n\npreaches  a   \"  flattering\"  sermon, \n\n202 \nNowell,  John,   one  of  the  original \n\nsettlers,  20 \n\n\nO \n\n\nOakes,  Urian,  president  of  Har- \nvard College  compliments  Cot- \nton Mather,   134 \n\nO'Brien,  Hugh,  mayor,  456 \n\nOffal,  removal  of,  under  Mayor \nQuincy,  432 \n\nOffice  a  trust,  not  to  be  declined, \n242 \n\nOlcott,  A.  Bronson,  and  Transcen- \ndentalism, 459 \n\nOld  North  church,  burned,  479 \n\nOld  South  meeting-house,  the, \nafter  the  massacre,  313,  314  ; \nmeeting  in,  to  oppose  importation \nof  tea,  339,  340  ;  occupied  as  a \nriding-school,  370 ;  refused  to \nAndros,    165 \n\nOld  South  lectures  on  American \nhistory,  474 \n\nOliver,  Andrew,  obliged  to  resign, \n281  ;  death  of,  349 \n\nOliver,  Peter,  chief-justice,  charges \nagainst,  348 \n\nOpinions,  effect  of,  in  acts,  173 \n\nOtis,  Harrison  Gray,  candidate  for \n\n\nmayor,  423  ;  chosen  mayor,  448  ; \ndescribes  Garrison,  462  ;  suggests \na  Hartford  convention,  416 \nOtis,  James,  arouses  enthusiasm \namong  the  Harvard  students, \n302  ;  close  of  the  active  life  of, \n305  ;  graduation  of,  258  ;  Life  of, \nby  Francis  Bowen,  mentioned, \n296  ;  moves  that  the  Superior \nCourt  adjourn  to  Faneuil  Hall, \n\"  on  account  of  the  presence  of \nsoldiers,\"  301  ;  opens  debates  to \nthe  public,  295  ;  opposed  to \nBernard,  270  ;  opposes  the  legal- \nity of  writs  of  assistance,  269  ; \nprepares  a  memorial  to  go  to \nEngland,  279  ;  protests  against \ntroops  about  the  State  House, \n302  ;  publishes  a  vindication  of \nthe  house,  272  ;  on  taxation \nwithout  representation,  276  ; \ntraits  of,  266  ;  comes  into  con- \nflict with  government,  266  ; \nwould  not  deny  all  parliamentary \nauthority,  325 \n\n\nPaine,  Robert  Treat,  appointed \ndelegate  to  congress,  358 \n\nPainter,  one,  whipped  for  not  hav- \ning his  children  baptized,  105 \n\nPainter,  Rev.  Henry,  courts  Pris- \ncilla  Fones,  27 \n\nPalaverers,  the  Two,  an  inn,  221 \n\nPalfrey,  Rev.  John  G. ,  pastor  of \nthe  Brattle  Street  church,  200, \n446  ;  does  not  oppose  the  Union, \n465  ;  his  History  referred  to,  73 \n\nPalinurus,  the,  of  the   Revolution, \n\n378 \nPalmer,  Albert,  mayor,  456 \nPanic,  a  financial,  in  Boston,  96 \nPaper    money,    refused    after    the \nRevolution,  387  ;  troubles  from, \n229 \nParker,      Theodore,      favors     the \nUnion,  465  ;  gives  books  to  the \nPublic  Library,  476  ;  and  Tran- \nscendentalism, 459 \n\n\n500 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nParliament,  acts  of,  not  to  be  exe- \ncuted in  Boston,  322 \n\nParliament  debates  the  question  of \ntaxing  America,  2S8  ;  deems  its \npower  vindicated,  347  ;  resolves \nto  check  the  defiant  spirit  of \nBoston,  345  ;  right  of,  to  tax \nAmerica  denied,  325  ;  suppresses \na  bank  by  a  retroactive  decision, \n230 \n\nParliamentary  supremacy  argued \nfor  by  Hutchinson,  331 \n\nParsons,  Theophilus,  writes  an \naddress  for  Hancock,  350 \n\nParties,  in  early  Boston,  250  ; \npolitical,  formed  in  abolition \ntimes,   465 \n\nParty  strife  lapses  in  war,  207 \n\nPatent,  the,  Williams'  views  re- \ngarding, 77 \n\nPatriotism,  aroused  in  Boston,  286; \nbred  in  the  New  England  towns. \n\nPauperism,  investigated  by  Josiah \nQuincy,  429 \n\nPaxton,  Charles,  surveyor  of  the \nport,  enforces  the  sugar  law,  254 \n\nPemberton,  Rev.  Ebenezer,  dis- \nturbed,  204 \n\nPemberton   Hill,  digging  away  of, \n\nPennsylvania,    political    principles \n\nof,  337 \n\nPepperell,  William,  takes  com- \nmand of  the  Louisburg  expedi- \ntion, 246 \n\nPepys,  Samuel,  acknowledges  a \n\"blessing  mighty  imexpected,\" \n144 \n\nPequod  war,  the,  92,  93 \n\nPercy,  Lord,  retreats  to  Boston, \n365  ;  sent  with  troops  to  Con- \ncord,  361 \n\nPeter,  Hugh,  comes  to  Boston,  74, \n81 \n\nPetersham  opposed  to  salaries  for \nthe  governor  from  the  king,  329 \n\nPhiladelphia,  congress  to  be  held \nat,  353  ;  the  meeting,  355  ;  con- \ntributes to  alleviate  the  riirors  of \n\n\nthe  port  bill,  353  ;  rejoices  over \nthe  Boston  tea-party,  343 \n\nPhilip  of  Mount  Hope  gives \ntrouble,  145  ;  killed,  149 \n\nPhilip's  war,  206 \n\nPhillips,  John,  chosen  mayor  of \nBoston,  424 \n\nPhillips,  pastor  at  Watertown,  dis- \nciplined, 69 \n\nPhillips,  Wendell,  begins  his \nremarkable  career,  465  ;  points \nout  his  father's  house,  425 \n\nPhilosophy,  the,  of  Transcendent- \nalism, 460 \n\nPhips,  Sir  William,  made  govern- \nor, 171  ;  career  of,  1S7  ;  his \npugilistic  traits,  188 \n\nPierce,  Henry  L.,  mayor,  456 \n\nPiracy,  efforts  to  extirpate,  197  ; \nhonored  in  early  times,  33 \n\nPlastowe,  Josias,  fined  for  stealing \nfrom  Indians,  69 \n\nPolice  force,  reorganization  of  the, \n\n456 \nPolitics,    revolution    in,    after    the \n\nRevolution,  397 \nPoor,     provision     for    the,     under \n\nMayor  Quincy,  432 \nPopulation,    growth    of,    retarded, \n\n206 \nPort    bill,    the    Boston,   347,    350, \n\n354.,  364 \n\nPorter's  hotel,  formerly  Bradish's \ntavern,  389 \n\nPownall,  Thomas,  appointed  gov- \nernor, 258  ;  character  of,  260, \n261  ;  holds  correct  views  about \nAmerica,  325 \n\nPrayer,  a  political,  202 \n\nPrayer-book  forms  objected  to,  64 \n\nPreaching  with  notes,  iSo \n\nPrerogative,  the  royal,  sustained \nby  Shute,  208 \n\nPrerogative  men  opposed  to  the \npatriots,  250 \n\nPress,  importance  of,  in  American \nhistory,  250 \n\nPreston,  Captain  John,  and  the \nmassacre,  312,  317,  318 \n\nPrimary  schools,  course  in,  445 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n501 \n\n\nPrince,  Prederick  O.,  mayor,  456 \nPrince,  Rev.   Thomas,   preaches  a \n\ncentennial  sermon,  231 \nPrisoners,     treatment     of,    Ijy    the \n\nBritish,  368 \nPrivateering,    a  means  of   gaining \n\nriches,  387 \nProphesying  in  church,  118 \nProvidence  railroad,   the,   opened, \n\n450 \nProvincial  congress,  the,  formed  at \n\nConcord,  357 \nProvisions  in  early  days,  62 \nPsalms,  the,  no  longer  read  line  by \n\nline  in  church,  200 \nPsalm-singing,  in  early  days,  117  ; \n\nmade  libellous,  204 \nPublic,   the,    admitted  to  debates, \n\n295 \n\nPublic  Library,  the,  475 \n\nPublishment  of  marriage  inten- \ntions, 178 \n\nPunishments  in  early  days,  53,  63 \n\nPuppets,  Master  of  the,  a  name \ngiven  to  Adams,  306 \n\nPurchase  Street,  home  of  Adams \non,  295  ;  origin  of  name  of,  310 \n\nPuritan  dress,  and  other  matters, \n218 \n\nPuritanism,  tendency  of,  458 \n\nPutnan*,  General  Rufus,  makes  a \ntimely  call,  373  ;  writes  to  Wash- \nington in  regard  to  western  im- \nmigration, 406,  407 \n\nI'utnam,  Israel,  surprises  Charles- \ntown,  365 \n\n\"  Puritan  Age  and  Rule,\"  the,  re- \nferred to,  9,  31,  126,  429 \n\nPynchon,  William,  an  original \nsettler,  21 \n\n\nQuakers,  hanged  on  the  Common, \n112;  punishments  for,  11 1  ; \ntrouble  Boston,  no \n\n(,)uality,  persons  of,  propose  to \nemigrate  to  Boston,  73 \n\n(,)uarters  for  troops,  dispute  regard- \ning, 300 \n\n\nQuebec,  fall  of,  259  ;  sends  aid  to \nBoston,  353  : \n\nQueen  Street,  now  Court.  394 \n\nQuincy,  three  members  of  the  fam- \nily named  Josiah,  340 \n\nQuincy,  Josiah,  Jr.,  bravely  appears \nfor  Preston,  317,  428  ;  called  the \nBoston  \"Cicero,\"  263;  an- \nnounces the  doctrine  of  seces- \nsion 415  ;  asks  a  question  about \ntea  and  salt  water,  340  ;  recom- \nmends retaliation,  307  ;  Memoir \nof  quoted,  325,  345,  428 \n\nQuincy,  Josiah,  becomes  president \nof  Harvard  College,  437  ;  career \nof,  before  becoming  mayor,  428  ; \nchosen  mayor,  426  ;  on  common \nschools,  440  ;  correspondence  of, \n416  ;  delivers  a  Fourth  of  July \noration,  428  ;  gives  an  account  of \nthe  motives  of  the  settlers  of \nBoston,  451  ;  his  History  of \nHarvard  Univeristy,  439 ;  on \nthe  independency  of  early  Bos- \ntonians,  8  ;  influence  of,  on \nBoston,  438  ;  Life  of,  quoted, \n415  ;  method  of  performing  his \nduties  as  mayor,  429,  430,  436  ; \nMunicipal  History  of,  422  ; \nnominated  as  mayor,  423  ;  retires \nfrom  office,  436 \n\nQuincy,    Josiah,    eleventh    mayor, \n\n454 \nQuincy   Market,    the,  building  of, \n\n433 \nQuo  loarranio,  matter  of  the,  155 \n\n\nR \n\n\nRadcliffe,  Rev.  Robert,  holds \nEpiscopal  service,  161,  163, \n182 \n\nRadicals,  the,  459 \n\nRailways,  beginnings  of,  449. \n\nRandolph,  Edward,  appears  in \nBoston,  151  ;  makes  charges \nagainst  the  colonists,  152,  153  ; \narrested,  169 \n\nRatcliff,  Philip,  circulates  scandals \nin  England,  63 \n\n\n5o: \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nRawson,  Edward,  secretary,  on \ntlie  condition  of  the  colony,  158 \n\nReftirmation,  a,  expected  in  Eng- \nland, 96 \n\nRegicides,   the,   escape  to  Boston, \n\n139 \nRegiments,     the    \"Sam    Adams,\" \n\n317 \n\nReligion,  the,  of  the  founders  of \nthe  colony,  274 \n\nReligious  character  of  Bostonians \nin  early  days,  177 \n\nReligious  life  in  Boston,  446 \n\nReligious  troubles  at  the  Old  South, \n166,  167 \n\nRepresentative  government  estab- \nlished, 85 \n\nRepublican     party,     the,     formed, \n\n465  ' \n\nRevere,  Paul,  carries  a  message  from \na  Boston  town-meeting  to  Phila- \ndelphia, 351  ;  carries  the  Suffolk \nresolves    to    Philadelphia,    356  ; \nilluminates  his  house,  319  ;    in- \nfluences Samuel  Adams  by  means \nof  the  mechanics,   404  ;   sent  to \nConcord,    330  ;   takes    to    Phila- \ndelphia  an   account   of  the   tea- \nparty,  343 \nRevolution,  the  \"causes\"  of,  275 \nRice,  Alexander  H.,  mayor,  456 \nRichardson,     the     informer,     who \ncaused  the  death   of   Schneider, \n\n309 \nRiedesel,   General,   in   Cambridge, \n\n389 \n\nRights  of  the  people  advocated  by \na  club,  264 \n\nRings  and  gloves  at  funerals,  227, \n228 \n\nRiot,  the,  on  account  of  the  seiz- \nure of  Hancock's  vessel,  296  ; \ncaused  by  impressment  of  sea- \nmen, 252,  253  ;  at  the  time  of \nthe  Romuey  troid)]e,  297  ;  the, \nat  the  Ursuline  convent,  468 \n\nRioters  dispersed  by  Mayor  Quin- \ncy,  430 \n\nRipley,  George,  and  Transcenden- \ntalism, 459,  460 \n\n\nRomer,  Col.,  William  Wolfgang, \nengineer,  repairs  the  Castle,  219 \n\nKoiiincy,  impressment  of  seamen  on \nthe,  2g6 \n\nRope-making  in  Boston,  310 \n\nRoxbury,  annexation  of,  470  ;  be- \nginnings of,  40 \n\nRoyalists  not  accorded  justice,  173 \n\nRum,  extravagant  price  of,  387; \nthe  chief  manufacture  previous \nto  the  Revolution,  398  ;  not  to \nbe  sold  without  a  permit  from \nGage,  369 \n\nRyece,  Robert,  a  friend  of  Win- \nthrop,  gives  him  advice,  17,  iS \n\n\nSafety,  a  committee  of,  appointed, \nin  1770,  316;  formed,  35S  ;  a \ncouncil  for,  appointed,  171 \n\nSalaries  decreased  by  the  deprecia- \ntion of  the  currency,  248 \n\nvSalaries  to  be  paid  by  the  king,  346 \n\nSalary,  Belcher's  contest  for,  229  ; \ndifficulties  of  Bellomont  in  re- \ngard to,  198  ;  contest  of  Burnet \nfor,  225  ;  not  given  to  Dudley, \n201  ;  the,  of  Hutchinson  direct \nfrom  the  king,  323  ;  contest  of \nShirley  for,  243  ;  troubles  of \nShute  regarding,  210 \n\nSalary  question,  the,  as  connected \nwith  the  king's  governors,  192 \n\nSalem,  general  court  adjourned  to, \n226 ;  meetings  of  the  general \ncourt  at,  352,  354  ;  made  the \ncapital,  346 \n\nSalem  witchcraft,  the,  185 \n\nSaltonstall,  Sir  Richard,  character \nof,  20  ;  obliged  to  make  restitu- \ntion to  Indians,  6g ;  protests \nagainst  certain  acts  \"of  the  early \nsettlers,  65 \n\nSalutation  Inn,  and  Alley,  221 \n\nSatan,  the  emissaries  of,  abroad  at \nan  early  date,  1 19  ;  influence  of, \nin  New  England,  48  ;  as  a  hard \nmaster  of  the  Indians,  92  ;  said  to \nhave  been  the  instigator  of  the \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n503 \n\n\npersecution  of  the  witches,  187  ; \nhis  kingdom  supported  by  Quak- \ners, III \n\nScalps,  bounties  offered  for,  201 \n\nSchneider,  the  boy,  becomes  the \n\"  first  martyr,\"  309 \n\nSchool  committee,  the,  how  formed, \n445 \n\nSchools,  free  and  unsectarian  not \nknown  in  early  Boston,  439  ; \nplan  formed  for  the  support  of, \nin  the  West,  406 \n\nSchools  in  the  West,  40S \n\nSchool  Street,  named  for  the  Latin \nschool,  408 \n\nSchool  system,  organization  of,  un- \nder the  influence  of  Samuel  Ad- \nams, 442 \n\nScrupulosity,  the,  of  Bostonians, \n136  ;  in  early  times,  219 \n\nSecession,  first  announcement  of \nthe  doctrine  of,  415  ;  from  a \nSouthern  point  of  view  in  1814, \n416 \n\nSecrecy  of  the  movements  of  the \ncolony  company  in  arranging  to \ntake  the  charter  to  America,  7 \n\nSelectmen,  the  first  appearance  of, \n91  ;  the,  of  early  Boston,  418  ; \njunketings  of  the,  419 \n\nSelling  of  Joseph,  the,  a  tract  by \nJudge  Sewall,  21S,  463 \n\nSentry  (Beacon)  Hill  in  early  days, \n58 \n\nSeparatism  opposed  by  Winthrop, \n\n31,  74 \nSermon,    the  Election,   before    the \n\nArtillery  Company,  241 \nSermons  in  the  heroic  age,    117  ; \n\nstrange  texts  for,  205,  206 \nServants  in  Boston  families,  116 \nSever,  Benjamin,  mayor,  456 \nSewall,  Samuel,  judge  of  the  court \nthat  tried  witches,    1S6  ;  his  re- \npentance of  his  deeds,  187  ;  com- \nforts himself  at   the  coming  of \nAndros,   164  ;  comments  on  the \nchange   in    the    times,    162  ;    his \nhome,  162  ;  his  Selling  of  Joseph, \n218  ;  converses  about   the  Dud- \n\n\nley letters,  201,  202  ;  deals \nwith  \"brother  Wing,\"  174  ;  gives \na  view  of  the  doings  of  his  day, \n214  ;  has  scruples  about  the  cross \nin  the  colors,  174  ;  his  opinion \nof  the  influence  of  Increase \nMather,  215  ;  death  of,  231 \n\nSewall,  Samuel  E.,  unites  in  found- \ning the  Anti-Slavery  Society,  463 \n\nShawmut  becomes  Boston,  43 \n\nShays'  rebellion,  the,  causes  of, \n400,  402 \n\nShepard  Memorial  church,  men- \ntioned, 309 \n\nShepard,  Rev.  Thomas,  of  Cam- \nbridge, 80 \n\nSherman,  goodwife,and  her  trouble- \nsome sow,  88,  89 \n\nShirley,  Thomas,  expresses  his \nopinion  of  Boston,  328 \n\nShirley,  William,  appointed  gov- \nernor, 243  ;  puts  the  indepen- \ndency of  America  in  the  distance, \n261 \n\nShurtleff,  Nathaniel  B.,  mayor, \n456;  his  \"  Description  of  Bos- \nton,\" quoted,  397 \n\nShute,  Samuel,  appointed  govern- \nor, 208 \n\nShylock,  a  lesson  from,  195 \n\nSinging  by  note  first  introduced, \n200 \n\nSlavery,  abolished  in  Massachusetts, \n405  ;  Edward  Everett  on,  464  ; \nprotestsagainst  interference  with, \n463  ;  tract  against,  by  Sewall,  218 \n\nSlaves,  cost  of  and  care  of,  184  ; \nobtained  for  rum,  399 \n\nSmall-pox  in  Boston,  210 \n\nSmith,  Jerome  V.  C,  mayor,  456 \n\nSmith,  John,  on  the  beauty  of  Bos- \nton, 38  ;  gives  names  to  places \nin  New  England,  2 \n\nSmith,  Rev.  Ralph,  becomes  a \nSeparatist,  32,  74 \n\nSmuggling,  seizure  of  the  Liberty \nfor,  296 \n\nSmuggling  trade,  the,  254 \n\nSnow,  Dr.  Caleb  H.,  History  of \nBoston,  202,  355,  409 \n\n\n504 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\nSociet)',  changes  in,  as  marked  by \nSamuel  Curwen,  3S7  ;  after  the \nRevolution,  396 \n\nSoldiers,  in  the  early  Boston  econo- \nmy, 242  ;  from  Halifax  arrive  in \nBoston,  300  ;  provision  for  quar- \ntering, upon  towns,  346 \n\nSons  of  Liberty,  an  organization, \n291 \n\nSouth  Boston,  annexed,  409  ;  (Dor- \nchester Heights)  fortified,  366 \n\nSouth  Carolina,  forms  a  local  gov- \nernment, 381  ;  sympathizes  with \nsuffering  Boston,  353 \n\nSouth  End,  boundaries  of,  397  ;  in \nearly  days,  223 \n\nSovereigns,  Americans  first  so- \ncalled,  261 \n\nSow,  the  stray,  and  what  it  brought \nabout,  88,  89 \n\nSpeculation   after   the   Revolution, \n\nSpeculators  punished   as  royalists, \n\n387 \nSprague,    Charles,   reads   a   poem, \n\n451 \nSqueb,  Captain,  at  Nantasket,  40 \nStamp-act  congress,  the,  2S0  ;  men- \ntioned, 326 \nStamp-act    riot,     the,    282  ;    cele- \nbrated, 294  ;  denounced,  284 \nStamp  act,  the,   passed,  280  ;    re- \npealed, 288 \nStamp  duties  proposed  by  Sir  Wil- \nliam Keith,  224 \nStamps  deemed  a  mark  of  slavery, \n\nand  not  to  be  used,  381 \nStamp  tax,  the,  proposed,  277 \nState  Church,  the,  in  Boston,  178 \nState   House,   the  present,   begun, \n\n452,  453 \n\nState  sovereignty  as  interpreted  by \nHancock,  402,  403 \n\nStoddard,  Rev.  Solomon,  of  North- \nampton, 216 \n\nStone,  Rev.  Samuel,  130 \n\nStoughton,  William,  acting  gover- \nnor, 189  ;  governor,  rule  of,  195, \n198 \n\nStreets,  changes  in,  after  the  Revo- \n\n\nlution, 397  ;  condition  of ,  in  early \ndays,  59  ;  improvement  in  the, \nunder  Mayor  Quincy,  432  ;  new, \nbuilt  by  Mayor  Quincy,  434 \n\nSuffolk  resolves,  how  passed,  355, \n_  356 \n\nSuffrage,  the,  and  church  member- \nship, 84  ;  right  of,  sought  by \nwomen,  467 \n\nSugar  law,  the,  enforced  by  Charles \nPaxton,  254 \n\nSumner,  Charles,  becomes  a  Free- \nSoiler,  465 \n\nSunday  customs  in  Boston,  115 \n\nSunday,   how  kept  in  early  days, \n\n175,  176 \nSunday    services  given   up    at    the \n\ntime    of    the   battle    of    Bunker \n\nHill,  367 \nSwearing,   the   terrible,   in  Boston \n\nin  early  days,  232 \nSynod,  the,  of  1637,  at  New  Town, \n\n(Cambridge),  79 \n\nT \n\nTable,  provisions  for  the,  219 \n\nTaxation,  arguments  against,  source \nof,  272  ;  by  stamp  proposed,  224, \n277  ;  without  representation  tyr- \nranny,  a  sentiment  of  Otis,  276 \n\nTaxes,  arbitrary,  laid  by  Andros \nand  Randolph,  167  ;  exorbitant \nin  Boston,  277  ;  ought  to  be  laid \nby  representatives  only,  16S  ;  re- \nmoved, except  on  tea,  321 \n\nTaylor,  Jeremy,  on  the  treatment \nof  Baptists,  106 \n\nTea,  cost  of,  after  the  Revolution, \n386  ;  the,  destroyed  at  Griffin's \nwharf,  shall  it  be  paid  for?  354  ; \nquality  of,  and  quantity  of,  used \nin  Boston  in  pre-revolutionary \ntimes,  323  ;  renounced  by  Har- \nvard students  and  others,  300, \n301 ;  shipments  of,  expected,  337  ; \ntax  upon,  levied  by  England,  2Q2  ; \ntax  upon,  retained  for  a  reason, \n321  ;  endangers  liberty,  324,  325 \n\nTeachers,  training  demanded  of, \n444  ;  women  equal  to  men,  442 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n505 \n\n\nTemperance    approved     by     Win- \n\nthrop,  51 \nTen  Hills  Farm,  52 \nTen  men,  the,  of  early  Boston,  418 \nTexts,  strange,   for  sermons,    205, \n\n206 \nThacher,      Oxenbridge,      supports \n\nAdams,  278 \nThanksgiving-day,     the     first,     in \n\nBoston,  52 \nTheology  in  Boston,  446 \nThompson,     Benjamin,     on     early \n\nNew  England  diet,   62 \nThompson  i     George,     anti-slavery \n\nagitator,  463 \nThursday  lecture,    the,    iiS,    175  ; \n\nattendance,  upon,  made  a  means \n\nof  popularity,  ig6 \nTicknor,   George,   gives   books    to \n\nthe   Public    Library,  476 \nTindale,  Arthur,  carries  a  letter  to \n\nMargaret  Winthrop,  46 \nTobacco,  laws  against  the  use  of, \n\n137    .  .    '^ \n\nToleration,  Williams  on,  76 \nTonnage  of  Boston  in  171 7,  194 \nTories,  estates  of,  confiscated,  396  ; \nthe,    oppose    the    formation    of \nlocal  governments,  381  ;  ridicule \nthe  committee  of  correspondence, \n328 \nTories  and  whigs,  rise  of  the  names, \n\n262 \nTors'ism  makes  itself  felt  in  177S, \n\n389 \n\nTown  Cove  in  early  days,  58 \n\nTown  Dock,  the,  condition  of,  in \n1822,  433 \n\nTown-house,  the  old,  a  scene  in, \n268  ;  the  first,  61 \n\nTown-meeting,  a,  called  to  censure \nthe  governor,  326  ;  in  Boston  to \nconfer  with  Gage,  364  ;  highest \nmark  of  the,  329  ;  important \nfunction  of  the,  378 \n\nTown-meetings,  difficulties  in  re- \ngard to,  420  ;  feared  by  England, \n345  ;  how  warned,  91  ;  not  to  be \npermitted,  346 \n\nTowns,    first   heard   of,    91  ;    the, \n\n\nabout  Boston  arm  themselves, \n357  ;  in  Massachusetts  express \nthemselves,  328;  the  \"unfor- \ntunate \"  power  of,   91 \n\n\"  Townsmen,\"  the,  of  early  Boston, \n418  ;  refreshments  for  the,  419 \n\nTown  system,  the,  a  bungling  one, \n\n^419 \n\nTrade,  brisk,  in  Boston,  96  ;  grow- \ning up  in  Boston,  97  ;  inter- \ncolonial, interfered  with,  194  ; \ninterfered  with  by  the  Boston \nport  bill,  352  ;  interference  with, \n193  ;  obstructed  by  the  king, \n1 68  ;  policy  of  controlling,  208  ; \nviews  of  English  politicians  re- \ngarding, 399  ;  carrying,  the, \nwealth  gained  in,   414 \n\nTrade  and  manufactures  improve, \n452 \n\nTrade,  the  Board  of,  inquires  al)out \nBoston  affairs,  143 \n\nTraining-day  for  the  militia,  69 \n\nTranscendentalism,  History  of, \nquoted,  458,  460 \n\nTribulations  at  the  coming  of \nAndros,    164 \n\nTrick,  a  political,  begins  the  mu- \nnici])al  history  of  Boston,  424 \n\nTrinity  Church,  site  of,  470 \n\nTroops,  demand  for  their  removal, \n313  ;  expected  in  Boston,  295, \n298  ;  goaded  almost  beyond  en- \ndurance, 308,  310,  311  ;  how- \nquartered  in  1770,  310;  trouble \nin  regard  to  quartering,  260 \n\nTunnel,  the,  through  the  Hoosac \nmountain,  cost  of,  449 \n\nTupper,  General  Benjamin,  sent  to \nthe  Ohio  country,  407 \n\nTyler,  Moses  Coit,  on  the  influence \nof  Laud,  81 \n\n\nU \n\n\nUniform,  the,  of  the  old  militia, \n242 \n\nUnion,  the  first  American,  93  ; \nthe,  of  America,  as  seen  by  Dick- \ninson, 355  ;   plan  for  an  Ameri- \n\n\n5o6 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\ncan,  presented  by  Churcli,  332  ; \ndiscussed  at  Albany,  ^50  ;  sug- \ngestions of  breaking  the,  415 \n\nUnitarian  Church,  distinguished \nministers  in   the,  446 \n\nUrsuline  convent,  destruction  of \nthe,  467 \n\nV \n\nVane,  Sir  Henry,  conies  to  Boston, \n74,  81  ;  character  and  influence \nof,  81 \n\nVassall,  William,  an  original  set- \ntler, 20 \n\nVeils,  Mather  preaches  on,  76 \n\nVeto  power,  the,  of  the  magistrates \nin  the  general  court,  go \n\nVice,  increase  of,  bewailed  by \nCotton  Mather,  196 \n\nVirginia  contributes  to  alleviate  the \nsufferings  of  Boston,  353 \n\nVirginia  plan,  the,  for  intercolo- \nnial correspondence,   334 \n\nVirginia  resolves,  the,  drawn  up  by \nPatrick  Henry,  278 \n\n\nW \n\n\nWainscoting,   trouble  about  some, \n\n67 \nWalford,  Thomas,   at  Charton,   or \n\nCharleton,  38 \n\nWalpole,  Sir  Robert,  declines  to \ntax  the  colonies,  224 \n\nWard,  Artemas,  commands  the \nAmerican  army,  365  ;  again  in \ncommand  of  the  army  about \nBoston,   379 \n\nWard,  Nathaniel,  prepares  the \n\"  Body  of  Liberties,\"  as  laws \nfor  the  colony,  120  ,  recom- \nmended as  freeman,   26 \n\nWare,  Henry,  chosen  Hollis  Pro- \nfessor, 446 \n\nWar,  the  civil,  473 \n\nWar  of  1812,  the,  protests  against, \n416 \n\nWar,  Queen  Anne's,  206 \n\nWarrants,  \"general,\"  issued  and \nobjected  to,   255 \n\n\nWarren,  Joseph,  brought  into \nprominence,  262  ;  deli\\ers  the \naddress  commemorating  the \nmassacre,  in  1775,  358,  359  ; \non  General  Gage,  352  ;  member \nof  a  committee  to  treat  with \nHutchinson,  314  ;  patriotism  of, \n326 \n\nWashington,  George,  appointed \ncommander  of  the  continental \narmy,  371  ;  enters  Boston,  375  ; \nsubscribes  to  aid  Boston,  353  ; \nvisits  Boston,  in  1789,  402 \n\nWashington  Street,  early  names  of, \n\n53 \n\nWater,  condition  of,  in  the  wells \nand  cisterns  in  Boston,  435  ;  not \nthought  a  strange  drink  in  early \ndays,  62  ;  provision  for  more, \ndesired  by  the  first  Mayor \nQuincy,   432,   435 \n\nWaterton,  Charles,  on  the  Boston \ntea-party,  344 \n\nWatertown    becomes    the    capital, \n\n371 \n\nWebb,  Rev.  John,'  preaclies  a  cen- \ntennial sermon,  231 \n\nWebster,  Daniel,  on  the  massacre, \n\n319 \nWells,  Charles,  mavor.  456 \n\nWells,  W.  v..  Life  of  Adams, \nquoted,  295,  403 \n\nWest,  the,  Boston  men  look  tow- \nard, 406 \n\nWest  End,  boundaries  of,  397  ; \nobtrusiveness  of    vice  in,   430 \n\nWheelright,  Rev.  John,  banished, \n80 \n\nWhigs,  a  club  of,  in  1747,  264 \n\nWhigs  and  tories,  rise  of  the  names, \n262 \n\nWhipping  as  a  punishment,  64, \n69 \n\nWhitefield,  George,  visits  Boston, \n232 \n\nWhitman,  Zachariah,  G.,  men- \ntioned, 241 \n\nWig,  the,  of  Josiah  Willard,  215 \n\nWigglesworth,  Michael,  on  the  in- \nhabitants of  America,  12 \n\n\nINDEX. \n\n\n507 \n\n\nWightman,  Joseph  M.,  mayor,  456 \nWitkins,  Richard,  bookseller,  alter- \ncation in  shop  of,  215 \nWillard,  Josiah,   cuts  off  his  liair, \n\n215 \n\nWillard,  Rev.  Samuel,  President  of \nHarvard  College,  135  ;  preaches \non  the  bad  times,  199 \n\nWilliam  Henry,  Fort,  fall  of,  258 \n\nWilliams,  Roger,  comes  over,  65  ; \nbanished,  77  ;  Life  of,  by  W. \nGammell,  66  ;  opinions  of,  76  ; \nviews  regarding  the  Church  of \nEngland,  31,  74  ;  will  not  perse- \ncute Quakers,  1 1 1 \n\nWilmington,  N.  C,  sends  aid  to \nBoston,  353 \n\nWilson,  Rev.  John,  cliosen  first \npastor,  41 \n\nWindmill  Hill  (Copp's)  58 \n\nWine  at  funerals,  228  ;  furnished \nthe  populace,  2S9 \n\nWinsor,  Justin,  \"  History  of  Am- \nerica,\" 2  ;  \"  Memorial  History \nof  Boston,\"  by,  loi,  344,  398, \n410,  418,  433,  442,  479 \n\nW'inthrop,  Fones,  wishes  to  marry \nUrsula  Fones,  27 \n\nWinthrop,  Forth,  and  Deane  sail \nfor  America,  55 \n\nWinthrop,  Henry,  death  of,  46 \n\n\\\\  inthrop,  John,  appears  in  con- \nnection with  the  Boston  colony, \n6  ;  aims  of,  according  to  Mayor \nQuincy,  451  ;  character  of,  127  ; \nchosen  governor,  24  ;  dwelling \nof,  probably  demolished  by  the \nBritish,  370  ;  gives  ixp  the  use  of \ntobacco,  137  ;  home  of,  59,  60  ; \nlost  in  the  woods,  53  ;  motives \nof,  II  ;  ordered  to  gi\\e  up  the \ncharter,  123  ;  removes  his  dwell- \n\n\ning to   Boston,    67  ;    rotated  out \nof   office,    72  ;    statue    of,   482  ; \ntender   letters    of,   28,    30 ;  tries \nto    keep    his    courage    up,    48  ; \ntroubled    by    a    financial    panic, \n97  ;  dies,  114,  127  ;  his  \"  Model \nof  Christian  Charity,\"  34 \nWinthrop  and  Dudley  fall  out,  67 \nW^inthrop,   John,   Jr.,   agrees  with \nhis   father   about    America,    23  ; \ninvents  a  windmill,  28 \nW^inthrop,    Margaret,    correspond- \nence   with    her  .diusband,      16  ; \nsails  for  America,  55  ;  character \nof,  114  ;  dies,  114 \nWinthrop,  Robert  Charles,  Speaker \n\nof  the  House,  465 \nWitchcraft  delusion,  the,  185 \nW'oman's  Club,  the  New  England, \n\n468 \nWoman's  yournal.   The,  468 \nWoman  suffragism,  rise  of,  467 \nWomen,   education    of,   43-9,   441  ; \nexaminations    for,     at     Harvard \nCollege,     443  ;    fashions    of,    in \nearly    days,    138  ;    garments    of, \nin  early  times,  218  ;  voters,  work \nof,  467  ;  wish  to  complete  a  good \nEnglish  education,  442,  443 \n\"  Wonder-Working     Providence,\" \n\nThe,   of  Edward  Johnson,  41 \nWorcester,  railway  to,  450 \nWorship,  forms  of,  64  ;   religious, \n\nin  families,    177 \nWrits    of    assistance,    legality    of, \nquestioned,   268,   270 \n\n\nYorktown,  victory  at,  gives  joy  to \n\nBoston,   395 \nYoung,  Thomas,  makes  an  address, \n\n319 \n\n\nThe  Story  of  the   Nations. \n\n\nMessrs.  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS  take  pleasure  in \nannouncing  that  they  have  in  course  of  publication  a \nseries  of  historical  studies,  intended  to  present  in  a \ngraphic  manner  the  stories  of  the  different  nations  that \nhave  attained  prominence  in  history. \n\nIn  the  story  form  the  current  of  each  national  life  will \nbe  distinctly  indicated,  and  its  picturesque  and  noteworthy \nperiods  and  episodes  will  be  presented  for  the  reader  in \ntheir  philosophical  relation  to  each  other  as  well  as  to \nuniversal  history. \n\nIt  is  the  plan  of  the  writers  of  the  different  volumes  to \nenter  into  the  real  life  of  the  peoples,  and  to  bring  them \nbefore  the  reader  as  they  actually  lived,  labored,  and \nstruggled — as  they  studied  and  wrote,  and  as  they  amused \nthemselves.  In  carrying  out  this  plan,  the  myths,  with \nwhich  the  history  of  all  lands  begins,  will  not  be  over- \nlooked, though  these  will  be  carefully  distinguished  from \nthe  actual  history,  so  far  as  the  labors  of  the  accepted \nhistorical  authorities  have  resulted  in  definite  conclusions. \n\nThe  subjects  of  the  different  volumes  will  be  planned \nto  cover  connecting  and,  as  far  as  possible,  consecutive \nepochs  or  periods,  so  that  the  set  when  completed  will \npresent  in  a  comprehensive  narrative  the  chief  events  in \nthe  great  Story  OF  THE  NATIONS ;  but  it  will,  of  course \n\n\nnot  always  prove  practicable  to  issue  the  several  volumes \nin  their  chronological  order. \n\nThe  \"  Stories  \"  are  printed  in  good  readable  type,  and \nin  handsome  i2mo  form.  They  are  adequately  illustrated \nand  furnished  with  maps  and  indexes.  They  are  sold \nseparately  at  a  price  of  $1.50  each. \n\nThe  following  is  a  partial  list  of  the  subjects  thus  far \ndetetmined  upon  : \n\nTHE  STORY  OF  *ANCIENT  EGYPT.     Prof.  George  Rawlinson. \n\n\"     *CHALDEA.     Z.  A.  Ragozin. \n\n'•     *GREECE.     Prof.  James  a.  Harrison, \n\nWashington  and  Lee  University. \n«'  \"  \"     *R0ME.     Arthur  Oilman. \n\n\"     *THE  jews.     Prof.  James  K.  Hosmer, \n\nWashington  University  of  St.  Louis. \n\n\"     *CARTHAGE.     Prof.  Alfred  J.  Church, \n\nUniversity  College,  London. \n\n\"       BYZANTIUM. \n\n\"     *TnE  GOTHS.     Henry  Bradley. \n\n\"     *THE  NORMANS.     Sarah  O.  Jewett. \n\n\"     *PERSIA.     S.  G.  W.  Benjamin. \n\n•'     *SPAIN.     Rev.  E.  E.  and  Susan  Hale. \n\n\"    *GERMANY.     S.  Baring-Gould. \n\n\"       THE  ITALIAN  REPUBLICS. \n\n\"     *HOLLAND.     Prof.  C.  E.  Thorold  Rogers. \n\"  \"  \"     *NORWAY.     Hjalmar  H.  Boyesen. \n\n\"     *THE  MOORS  IN  SPAIN.    Stanley  Lane-Poole. \n\n\"     *HUNGARY.     Prof.  A.  VAmbery. \n\n\"       THE  ITALIAN  KINGDOM.     W.  L.  Alden. \n\n\"     *MEDLE:YAL  FRANCE.     Prof.  Gustave  Masson. \n\n•■     ^ALEXANDER'S  EMPIRE.     Prof.  J.  P.  Mahaffy. \nTHE   HANSE  towns.     Helen  Zimmern. \n\n\"     ^ASSYRIA.     Z.  A.  Ragozin. \n\n•'    *THE  SARACENS.     Arthur  Oilman. \n\"  \"  \"     *TURKEY.     Stanley  Lane-Poole. \n\nPORTUGAL.     H.  Morse  Stephens. \n\n\"     *MEXICO.     Susan  Hale. \n\n\"     *IRELAND.     Hon.  Emily  Lawless. \n\n\"       PHCENICIA. \n\n\"       SWITZERLAND. \n\n\"       RUSSIA. \n\n\"       WALES. \n\n\"       SCOTLAND. \n\n\"     *MEDIA,  BABYLON,  AND   PERSIA. \n\nZ.  A.  Ragozin. \n\n*  (The  volumes  starred  are  now  ready,  November,  1888.) \n\nG.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS \nNew  York  London \n\n77  \\SD  29  West  Twenty-Third  Street  27  Kino  Willi.\\m  Street,  Strand \n\n\nPUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  F.  FUTNAM'S  SONS \n\nTHE   SCRIPTURES, \n\nHEBREW  AND   CHRISTIAN. \n\nARRANGED  AND  EDITED  AS  AN   INTRODUCTION   TO  THE \nSTUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. \n\nRev.  EDWARD  T.  BARTLETT,  D.D., \n\nDean  of  the  Divinity  School  of  the  P.  E.  Church  in  Philadel- \nphia, and  Mary  Wolfe,  Prof,  of  Ecclesiastical  History. \n\nRev.  JOHN  P.  PETERS,  Ph.D.,  ^  Editors. \n\nProfessor  of  Old  Testament  Literature  and  Language  in  the \nDivinity  School  of  the  P.  E.  Church  in  Philadelphia,  and \nProfessor  of  Hebrew  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. \n\nThe  work  is  to  be  completed  in  three  volumes,  containing  each  about \n500  pages.     Vols.  I.  and  II.  now  ready. \n\nVol.  I.  includes  Hebrew  story  from  the  Creation  to  the  time  of  Nehe- \nmiah,  as  in  the  Hebrew  canon. \n\nVol.  II.  is  devoted  to  Hebrew  poetry  and  prophecy. \n\nVol.  III.  will  contain  the  selections  from  the  Christian  Scriptures. \n\nThevolumts  are  handsomely  printed  in  i2mo  form,  and  with  an  open, \nreadable  page,  not  arranged  in  verses,  but  paragraphed  according  to  the \nsense  of  the  narrative. \n\nEach  volume  is  complete  in  itself,  and  will  he  sold  separately  at  $1.50. \n\nThe  editors  say  in  their  announcement :  \"  Our  object  is  to  remove  stones \nof  stumbling  from  the  path  of  young  readers  by  presenting  Scriptures  to \nthem  in  a  form  as  intelligible  and  as  instructive  as  may  be  practicable.  This \nplan  involves  some  re-arrangements  and  omissions,  before  which  we  have \nnot  hesitated,  inasmuch  as  our  proposed  work  will  not  claim  to  be  the  Bible, \nbut  an  introduction  to  it.  That  we  may  avoid  imposing  our  own  interper- \ntalion  upon  Holy  Writ,  it  will  be  our  endeavor  to  make  Scripture  serve  as \nthe  commentaiy  on  Scripture.  In  the  treatment  of  the  Prophets  of  the  Old \nTestament  and  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament,  it  will  not  be  practica- \nble entirely  to  avoid  comment,  but  no  attempt  will  be  made  to  pronounce \nupon  doctrinal  questions.\" \n\nThe  first  volume  is  divided  into  four  parts  : \n\nPart  I. — Hebrew  Story,  from  the  Beginning  to  the  Time  of  Saul. \n\"     II. — The  Kingdom  of  all  Israel. \n\"  III. — Samaria,  or  the  Northern  Kingdom. \n\"   IV. — Judah,  from  Rehoboam  to  the  Exile. \n\n\nPUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS \n\nThe  second  volume  comprises  : \nPart   I. — Hebrew  History  from  the  Exile  to  Nehemiah. \n\"     n. — Hebrew  Legislation. \n\"  HI. — Hebrew  Tales. \n\"    IV. — Hebrew  Prophecy. \n\"     V. — Hebrew  Poetry. \n\"   VI. — Hebrew  Wisdom. \n\nThe  third  vohime  will  comprise  the  selections  from  the  New  Testament, \narranged  as  follows : \n\nI. — The  Gospel  according  to  St.  Mark,  Presenting  the  Evan- \ngelical Story  in  its  Simplest  Form  ;   Supplemented  by \nSelections  from  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Luke, \nII. — The  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  with  some   Indication  of  the \n\nProbable  Place  of  the  Epistles  in  the  Narrative. \nIII. — The  Epistles  of  St.  James  and  the  First  Epistle  of  St.  Peter. \nIV. — The  Epistles  of  St.  Paul. \nV. — The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. \nVI. — The  Revelation  of  St.  John  (A  Portion). \nVII. — The  First  Epistle  of  St.  John. \nVIII. — The  Gospel  of  St.  John. \n\nFull  details  of  the  plan  of  the  undertaking,  and  of  the  methods  adopted \nby  the  editors  in  the  selection  and  arrangement  of  the  material,  will  be  found \nin  the  separate  prospectus. \n\n\"  I  congratulate  you  on  the  issue  of  a  work  which,  I  am  sure,  will  find  a \nwide  welcome,  and  the  excellent  features  of  which  make  it  of  permanent \nvalue.\" — Rt.  Rev.  Henry  C.  Potter,  Bishop  of  New  York. \n\n\"Should  prove  a  valuable  adjunct  of  Biblical  instruction.\" — Rt.  Rev.  W. \nE.  Stevens,  Bishop  of  Pennsylvania. \n\n\"Admirably  conceived  and  admirably  executed.  .  .  .  It  is  the  Bible \nstory  in  Bible  words.  The  work  of  scholarly  and  devout  men.  .  .  . \nWill  prove  a  help  to  Bible  study.\" — Rev.  Howard  Crosby,  D.D. \n\n\"  We  know  of  no  volume  which  will  better  promote  an  intelligent \nunderstanding  of  the  structure  and  substance  of  the  Bible  than  this  work, \nprepared,  as  it  is,  by  competent  and  reverent  Christian  scholars.\" — Sunday- \nSchool  Times, \n\nG.   P.    PUTNAM'S   SONS \n\nNew  York :  London : \n\n27  and  29  west  23D  street  27  KING  WILLIAM  ST.,  STRAND \n\n\nPUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS. \n\n\nThe  Story  of  the  City  of  Washington.  By  Charles \nBurr  Todd,  author  of  \"  The  Story  of  the  City  of  New \nYork.\"  Octavo,  cloth,  with  many  illustrations  and  maps. \n(No.  2  in  the  series  of  the  Great  Cities  of  the  Re- \npublic)   .         iHlr  75 \n\n\nWASHINGTON,    ABOUT    I80O. \n(From  \"The  Story  of  the  City  of  Washington.\") \n\n\"It  is  \\\\ell  to  remember  that  a  nation's  capital  may  fairly  be  considered \nas  an  index  to  a  nation's  character,  and  that  the  outcome  of  our  institutions \nwill  be  studied  by  critical  strangers  in  the  city  on  the  banks  of  the  Poto- \nmac.\"— From  Author  s  Preface. \n\n\"  It  is  peculiarly  happy  in  its  focus,  complete  in  its  scope,  patriotic  in  its \ntone,  and  graphic  in  its  style.\" — Boston  foiimal  of  Education. \n\n\"  This  is  a  copious  guide-book  to  the  capital  city  of  the  United  States,  as \nwell  as  an  interesting  record  of  its  history,  its  political  and  oratorical  events, \nand  its  civic  growth.\" — Portland  Press. \n\n\"So  valuable  do  we  regard  this  book  that  we  express  the  hope  that  it \nmay  find  its  way  into  the  hands  of  every  boy  and  girl  in  this  country.\" — \nJournal  of  Pedagogy. \n\n\"Its  perusal  is  worth  even  more  than  a  flying  trip  to  Washington,  and \nshould,  in  fact,  precede  such  a  journey.\" — Philadelphia  Ledger. \n\nG.  P.   PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  and  London \n\n\nPUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS \n\nStory  of  the  City  of  New  York.  By  Charles  Burr \nTodd,  author  of  \"  Life  and  Letters  of  Joel  Barlow.\"  A \nhistory  of  the  city  from  the  discovery  of  the  island  by \nVerrazano  till  the  present  time.  Profusely  illustrated, \n-^^loth $1   75 \n\n\n^r \n\n\nTHE   BATTERY    IN    1663. \n(From  \"  The  Story  of  the  City  of  New  York. \n\n\"  Will  be  found  in  all  respects  a  convenient,  accurate,  and  comprehensive \nrecord  of  the  city's  development  for  three  hundred  years.\" — A^cw  York \nIndependent. \n\n\"  Mr.  Todd  has  managed  his  material  with  much  skill,  and  he  succeeds \nexcellently  in  putting  before  the  reader  very  striking  pen-pictures  of  the \ndifferent  phases  of  civic  development.  The  book  is  pleasantly  written  and \nwe  have  found  it  very  readable.\" — Philadelphia  Telegraph. \n\nG.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  and  London. \n\n\nPUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  F.  FUTNAM'S  SONS \n\nRobert  Fulton  and  Steam  Navigation.  By  Thos.  W. \nKnox,  editor  of  \"  The  Travels  of  Marco  Polo,\"  author  of \n\"  Boy  Travellers  in  the  East,\"  etc.,  etc.  One  large  i2mo \nvolume,  profusely  illustrated Si    75 \n\n\nThis  book  tells  the  story  of  a  life  of  constant  activity  and  usefulness, \nand  describes  the  rise  and  progress  of  steam  navigation  in  a  manner  most \nremarkable  and  clear.  It  is  free  from  technical  terms  of  all  description, \nand  is  written  in  that  charmingly  narrative  and  picturesque  form  for  which \nMr.  Knox  is  so  justly  famous. \n\nThe  book  is  composed  of  500  pages,  and  contains  82  elegant  engravings, \nwhich  go  to  emphasize  its  usefulness. \n\nThe  early  struggles  of  Fulton  to  get  recognition  for  his  inventions,  his \nperseverance,  and  his  dogged  determination  to  succeed,  are  depicted \nforcefully  and  sympathetically.  All  the  great  ocean,  war,  and  river \nsteamers  of  the  century,  their  principles  of  construction,  the  gradual  evo- \nlution of  speed  by  means  of  improved  application  of  the  original  idea,  and \nthe  development  of  the  original  crude  machinery,  are  described  and  exem- \nplified by  numerous  ilhistrations. \n\nG.   P.   rUTNAM'S  SONS,   New  York  and  London. \n\n\nPUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS \n\n\nLife    of  Abraham    Lincoln.     By  Noah  Brooks.     Crown \noctavo,  with  many  illustrations  ,         .         .         •     $i   75 \n\n\n!3? . ;'' . \n\n\nLincoln's  wrestle  with  Armstrong. \n\n(Reduced  from  \"  Life  of  Abraham  Lincoln.\") \n\n\"In  writing  this  brief  biography,  I  have  been  moved  by  a  desire  to  give \nthe  generation  of  young  people,  who  will  never  know  aught  of  Abraham \nLincoln  but  what  is  traditional,  a  life-like  picture  of  the  man  as  many  men \nknew  him.  .  .  .  Many  things  relating  to  his  early  life  herein  set  down \nwere  derived  from  his  own  lips,  often  during  hours  of  secluded  companion- \nship.\" — From  Author's  Preface. \n\n\"  An  excellent  and  timely  book.\" — A^'^t^/  Albany  Ledger. \n\n\"An  admirably  written  book.\" — Buffalo  Christian  Advocate. \n\n\"  It  is  a  capital  book.\" — Pittsburgh  Chronicle. \n\n\"A  more  interesting  biography  we  have  not  read.\" — Hartford  Times. \n\n\nG.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  and  London \n\n\n/r*l \n\n^^ \n\nm \n\nMM.I \n\nM \n\nW^ \n\n2 \n\n\nti \n\n\nCO \n\n00 \nC5 \n\n\n05 \n\ncn \n\n\n(// \n\n\na \no \n-p \n\n03 \nQ \n\na \n\n•H \nO \n\n\n4i   0) \n\nI  b \n\n•H   -P \n\n\nOi \n\n\nCO \n\n\n<       H \n\n\nUNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO \nLIBRARY \n\n\nAcme    Library    Card    Pocket \n\nUnder  Pat.  \"  Ref.  Index  File.\" \nMade  by  LIBEAEY  BUREAU \n\n\n^> \n\n\n•i. \n\n\n■\"^1 \n\n\nWm \n\nM \n\n^^ \n\nm \n\n^ \n\nw/M \n\nM \n\n^ \n\n\nr^ \n\n\nm \n\n\n\"4 \n\n1 \n\nH \n\n1 \n\ni \n\n/ 1^^^ \n\n^ \n\n8 \n\nB \n\n^ \n\nwtummmmmi.jm \n\n\nictmmimmmmammm \n\n\n\"v \n\n\n","title":"The story of Boston, a study of independency","updated_at":"2026-09-05T09:58:46.961295Z","urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-story-of-boston-a-study-of-independency","version":1,"withdrawn_reason":null},"urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:the-story-of-boston-a-study-of-independency","version_history":[{"change_note":"accessioned from the Internet Archive, item storyofbostonstu00gilmuoft","changed_by":"archive-ingest 0.1.0","recorded_at":"2026-09-05T09:58:47.255148Z","version":1}]}