Grandfather was interrupted by the violent sobs of little Alice. In his earnestness he had neglected to soften clown the narrative so that it might not terrify the heart of this unworldly infant. Since Grandfather began the history of our chair, little Alice had listened to many tales of war. But probably the idea had never really impressed itself upon her mind that men have shed the blood of their fellow-creatures. And now that this idea was forcibly presented to her, it affected the sweet child with bewilderment and horror.
"I ought to have remembered our dear little Alice," said Grandfather reproachfully to himself. "Oh, what a pity! Her heavenly nature has now received its first impression of earthly sin and violence. Well, Clara, take her to bed and comfort her. Heaven grant that she may dream away the recollection of the Boston ma.s.sacre!"
"Grandfather," said Charley, when Clara and little Alice had retired, "did not the people rush upon the soldiers and take revenge?"
"The town drums beat to arms," replied Grandfather, "the alarm-bells rang, and an immense mult.i.tude rushed into King Street. Many of them had weapons in their hands. The British prepared to defend themselves. A whole regiment was drawn up in the street, expecting an attack; for the townsmen appeared ready to throw themselves upon the bayonets."
"And how did it end?"
"Governor Hutchinson hurried to the spot," said Grandfather, "and besought the people to have patience, promising that strict justice should be done. A day or two afterward the British troops were withdrawn from town and stationed at Castle William. Captain Preston and the eight soldiers were tried for murder. But none of them were found guilty.
The judges told the jury that the insults and violence which had been offered to the soldiers justified them in firing at the mob."
"The Revolution," observed Laurence, who had said but little during the evening, "was not such a calm, majestic movement as I supposed. I do not love to hear of mobs and broils in the street. These things were unworthy of the people when they had such a great object to accomplish."
"Nevertheless, the world has seen no grander movement than that of our Revolution from first to last," said Grandfather. "The people, to a man, were full of a great and n.o.ble sentiment. True, there may be much fault to find with their mode of expressing this sentiment; but they knew no better; the necessity was upon them to act out their feelings in the best manner they could. We must forgive what was wrong in their actions, and look into their hearts and minds for the honorable motives that impelled them."
"And I suppose," said Laurence, "there were men who knew how to act worthily of what they felt."
"There were many such," replied Grandfather; "and we will speak of some of them hereafter."
Grandfather here made a pause. That night Charley had a dream about the Boston ma.s.sacre, and thought that he himself was in the crowd and struck down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence dreamed that he was sitting in our great chair, at the window of the British Coffee House, and beheld the whole scene which Grandfather had described. It seemed to him, in his dream, that, if the townspeople and the soldiers would but have heard him speak a single word, all the slaughter might have been averted. But there was such an uproar that it drowned his voice.
The next morning the two boys went together to State Street and stood on the very spot where the first blood of the Revolution had been shed. The Old State House was still there, presenting almost the same aspect that it had worn on that memorable evening, one-and-seventy years ago. It is the sole remaining witness of the Boston ma.s.sacre.
CHAPTER VI. A COLLECTION OF PORTRAITS.
THE NEXT evening the astral lamp was lighted earlier than usual, because Laurence was very much engaged in looking over the collection of portraits which had been his New-Year"s gift from Grandfather.
Among them he found the features of more than one famous personage who had been connected with the adventures of our old chair. Grandfather bade him draw the table nearer to the fireside; and they looked over the portraits together, while Clara and Charley likewise lent their attention. As for little Alice, she sat in Grandfather"s lap, and seemed to see the very men alive whose faces were there represented.
Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the portrait of a stern, grim-looking man, in plain attire, of much more modern fashion than that of the old Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one of those iron-hearted men. Beneath the portrait was the name of Samuel Adams.
"He was a man of great note in all the doings that brought about the Revolution," said Grandfather. "His character was such, that it seemed as if one of the ancient Puritans had been sent back to earth to animate the people"s hearts with the same abhorrence of tyranny that had distinguished the earliest settlers. He was as religious as they, as stern and inflexible, and as deeply imbued with democratic principles.
He, better than any one else, may be taken as a representative of the people of New England, and of the spirit with which they engaged in the Revolutionary struggle. He was a poor man, and earned his bread by a humble occupation; but with his tongue and pen he made the King of England tremble on his throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the strong men of our country."
"Here is one whose looks show a very different character," observed Laurence, turning to the portrait of John Hanc.o.c.k. "I should think, by his splendid dress and courtly aspect, that he was one of the king"s friends."
"There never was a greater contrast than between Samuel Adams and John Hanc.o.c.k," said Grandfather. "Yet they were of the same side in politics, and had an equal agency in the Revolution. Hanc.o.c.k was born to the inheritance of the largest fortune in New England. His tastes and habits were aristocratic. He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion, magnificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was glittering and pompous in external things. His manners were so polished that there stood not a n.o.bleman at the footstool of King George"s throne who was a more skilful courtier than John Hanc.o.c.k might have been. Nevertheless, he in his embroidered clothes, and Samuel Adams in his threadbare coat, wrought together in the cause of liberty. Adams acted from pure and rigid principle. Hanc.o.c.k, though he loved his country, yet thought quite as much of his own popularity as he did of the people"s rights. It is remarkable that these two men, so very different as I describe them, were the only two exempted from pardon by the king"s proclamation."
On the next leaf of the book was the portrait of General Joseph Warren.
Charley recognized the name, and said that here was a greater man than either Hanc.o.c.k or Adams.
"Warren was an eloquent and able patriot," replied Grandfather. "He deserves a lasting memory for his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty.
No man"s voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph Warren"s.
If his death had not happened so early in the contest, he would probably have gained a high name as a soldier."
The next portrait was a venerable man, who held his thumb under his chin, and, through his spectacles, appeared to be attentively reading a ma.n.u.script.
"Here we see the most ill.u.s.trious Boston boy that ever lived," said Grandfather. "This is Benjamin Franklin. But I will not try to compress into a few sentences the character of the sage, who, as a Frenchman expressed it, s.n.a.t.c.hed the lightning from the sky and the sceptre from a tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help you to the knowledge of Franklin."
The book likewise contained portraits of James Otis and Josiah Quincy.
Both of them, Grandfather observed, were men of wonderful talents and true patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones of a trumpet arousing the country to defend its freedom. Heaven seemed to have provided a greater number of eloquent men than had appeared at any other period, in order that the people might be fully instructed as to their wrongs and the method of resistance.
"It is marvellous," said Grandfather, "to see how many powerful writers, orators, and soldiers started up just at the time when they were wanted.
There was a man for every kind of work. It is equally wonderful that men of such different characters were all made to unite in the one object of establishing the freedom and independence of America. There was an over-ruling Providence above them."
"Here, was another great man," remarked Laurence, pointing to the portrait of John Adams.
"Yes; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest and most able man," said Grandfather. "At the period of which we are now speaking he was a lawyer in Boston. He was destined in after years to be ruler over the whole American people, whom he contributed so much to form into a nation."
Grandfather here remarked that many a New-Englander, who had pa.s.sed his boyhood and youth in obscurity, afterward attained to a fortune which he never could have foreseen even in his most ambitious dreams. John Adams, the second President of the United States and the equal of crowned kings, was once a schoolmaster and country lawyer. Hanc.o.c.k, the first signer of the Declaration of Independence, served his apprenticeship with a merchant. Samuel Adams, afterwards governor of Ma.s.sachusetts, was a small tradesman and a tax-gatherer. General Warren was a physician, General Lincoln a farmer, and General Knox a bookbinder. General Nathaniel Greene, the best soldier, except Washington, in the Revolutionary army, was a Quaker and a blacksmith. All these became ill.u.s.trious men, and can never be forgotten in American history.
"And any boy who is born in America may look forward to the same things," said our ambitious friend Charley.
After these observations, Grandfather drew the book of portraits towards him and showed the children several British peers and members of Parliament who had exerted themselves either for or against the rights of America. There were the Earl of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North.
These were looked upon as deadly enemies to our country.
Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, afterward Earl of Chatham, who spent so much of his wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England of the consequences of her injustice. He fell down on the floor of the House of Lords after uttering almost his dying words in defence of our privileges as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the wisest men and greatest orators that ever the world produced. There was Colonel Barry, who had been among our fathers, and knew that they had courage enough to die for their rights. There was Charles James Fox, who never rested until he had silenced our enemies in the House of Commons.
"It is very remarkable to observe how many of the ablest orators in the British Parliament were favorable to America," said Grandfather. "We ought to remember these great Englishmen with grat.i.tude; for their speeches encouraged our fathers almost as much as those of our own orators in Faneuil Hall and under Liberty Tree. Opinions which might have been received with doubt, if expressed only by a native American, were set down as true, beyond dispute, when they came from the lips of Chatham, Burke, Barre, or Fox."
"But, Grandfather," asked Lawrence, "were there no able and eloquent men in this country who took the part of King George?"
"There were many men of talent who said what they could in defence of the king"s tyrannical proceedings," replied Grandfather. "But they had the worst side of the argument, and therefore seldom said anything worth remembering. Moreover, their hearts were faint and feeble; for they felt that the people scorned and detested them. They had no friends, no defence, except in the bayonets of the British troops. A blight fell upon all their faculties, because they were contending against the rights of their own native land."
"What were the names of some of them?" inquired Charley.
"Governor Hutchinson, Chief Justice Oliver, Judge Auchmuty, the Rev.
Mather Byles, and several other clergymen, were among the most noted loyalists," answered Grandfather.
"I wish the people had tarred and feathered every man of them!" cried Charley.
"That wish is very wrong, Charley," said Grandfather. "You must not think that there is no integrity and honor except among those who stood up for the freedom of America. For aught I know, there was quite as much of these qualities on one side as on the other. Do you see nothing admirable in a faithful adherence to an unpopular cause? Can you not respect that principle of loyalty which made the royalists give up country, friends, fortune, everything, rather than be false to their king? It was a mistaken principle; but many of them cherished it honorably, and were martyrs to it."
"Oh, I was wrong!" said Charley, ingenuously.
"And I would risk my life rather than one of those good old royalists should be tarred and feathered."
"The time is now come when we may judge fairly of them," continued Grandfather. "Be the good and true men among them honored; for they were as much our countrymen as the patriots were. And, thank Heaven, our country need not be ashamed of her sons,--of most of them at least,--whatever side they took in the Revolutionary contest."
Among the portraits was one of King George III Little Alice clapped her hands, and seemed pleased with the bluff good-nature of his physiognomy.
But Laurence thought it strange that a man with such a face, indicating hardly a common share of intellect, should have had influence enough on human affairs to convulse the world with war. Grandfather observed that this poor king had always appeared to him one of the most unfortunate persons that ever lived. He was so honest and conscientious, that, if he had been only a private man, his life would probably have been blameless and happy. But his was that worst of fortunes,--to be placed in a station far beyond his abilities.
"And so," said Grandfather, "his life, while he retained what intellect Heaven had gifted him with, was one long mortification. At last he grew crazed with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years the men arch of England was confined as a madman. In his old age, too, G.o.d took away his eyesight; so that his royal palace was nothing to him but a dark, lonesome prison-house."