PI lit I
THE OLD CONTINENTALS.
IN UNIFORM STYLE
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND
THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS & WHAT ALICE FOUND THERE
THE CHILD'S STORY OF THE BIBLE
THE CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST
LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES
THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON
THE FABLES OF JESOP
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS AND THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA
MOTHER GOOSE'S RHYMES, JINGLES AND FAIRY TALES
EXPLORATION AND ADVENTURE IN THE FROZEN SEAS
THE STORY OF DISCOVERY AND EXPLORATION IN AFRICA
ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS
WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY
A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, by CHARLES DICKENS
BLACK BEAUTY, by ANNA SEWELL
ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES
GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, by NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
FLOWER FABLES, by LOUISA M. ALCOTT
Price 5o Cents Each
HENRY ALTEMUS, PHILADELPHIA
Copyright 1898 by Henry Altemus
IN writing this ponderous tome, the author's desire
has been to describe the eminent characters and
remarkable events of our early annals in such a
form and style that the YOUNG might make acquaint-
ance with them of their own accord. For this pur-
pose, while ostensibly relating the adventures of a
chair, he has endeavored to keep a distinct and un-
broken thread of authentic history. The chair is
made to pass from one to another of those personages
of whom he thought it most desirable for the young
reader to have vivid and familiar ideas, and whose
lives and actions would best enable him to give
picturesque sketches of the times.
There is certainly no method by which the shadowy
outlines of departed men and women can be made to
assume the hues of life more effectually than by con-
necting their images with the substantial and homely
reality of a fireside chair. It causes us to feel at once
that these characters of history had a private and
familiar existence, and were not wholly contained
within that cold array of outward action which we
are compelled to receive as the adequate representation
of their lives. If this impression can be given, much
Setting aside grandfather and his auditors, and
excepting the adventures of the chair, which form the
machinery of the work, nothing in the ensuing pages
can be termed fictitious. The author, it is true, has
sometimes assumed the license of filling up the outline
of history with details for which he has none but imag-
inative authority, but which, he hopes, do not violate
nor give a false coloring to the truth. He believes
that, in this respect, his narrative will not be found
to convey ideas and impressions of which the reader
may hereafter find it necessary to purge his mind.
The author's great doubt is, whether he has suc-
ceeded in writing a book which will be readable by
the class for whom he intends it. To make a lively
and entertaining narrative for children, with such un-
malleable material as is presented by the sombre, stern,
and rigid characteristics of the Puritans and, their
descendants, is quite as difficult an attempt as to
manufacture delicate playthings out of the granite
rocks on which New England is founded.
had been sitting
in his old arm-
chair all that pleas-
ant afternoon, while
the children were
pursuing their vari-
ous sports far off or
near at hand. Some-
times you would
have said, "Grand-
father is asleep!"
but still, even when
his eyes were closed,
his thoughts were
with the young peo-
ple, playing among
the flowers and
shrubbery of the
.He heard the
-voice of Laurence,
who had taken pos-
BP.swSTR'S CHAIR-PRESERVED AT PII- session of a heap
GRIM HAL, N9w PIYMOUTH. of decayed branches
which the gardener had lopped from the fruit trees,
and was building a little hut for his cousin Clara and
himself. He heard Clara's gladsome voice, too, as she
weeded and watered the flower-bed which had been
given her for her own. He could have counted every
footstep that Charley took, as he trundled his wheel-
barrow along the gravel walk. And though Grand-
father was old and gray-haired, yet his heart leaped
with joy whenever little Alice came fluttering, like a
butterfly, into the room. She had made each of the
children her playmate in turn, and now made Grand-
father her playmate too, and thought him the merriest
of them all.
At last the children grew weary of their sports;
because a summer afternoon is like a long lifetime to
the young. So they came into the room together, and
clustered round Grandfather's great chair. Little
Alice, who was hardly five years old, took the privi-
lege of the youngest, and climbed his knee. It was a
pleasant thing to behold that fair and golden-haired
child in the lap of the old man, and to think that,
different as they were, the hearts of both could be
gladdened with the same joys.
"Grandfather," said little Alice, laying her head
back upon his arm, "I am very tired now. You must
tell me a story to make me go to sleep."
"That is not what story-tellers like," answered
Grandfather, smiling. "They are better satisfied when
they can keep their auditors awake."
"But here are Laurence, and Charley, and I," cried
cousin Clara who was twice as old as little Alice,
"We will all three keep wide awake. And pray,
Grandfather, tell us a story about this strange looking
Now, the chair in which Grandfather sat was made
of oak, which had grown dark with age, but had been
rubbed and polished till it shone as bright as mahog-
any. It was very large and heavy, and had a back
that rose high above Grandfather's white head. This
back was curiously carved in open work, so as to rep-
resent flowers, and foliage, and other devices, which
the children had often gazed at, but could never
understand what they meant. On the very tiptop of
the chair, over the head of Grandfather himself, was
a likeness of a lion's head, which had such a savage
grin that you would almost expect to hear it growl
The children had seen Grandfather sitting in this
chair ever since they could remember anything. Per-
haps the younger of them supposed that he and the
chair had come into the world together, and that both
had always been as old as they were now. At this
time, however, it happened to be the fashion for
ladies to adorn their drawing-rooms with the oldest
and oddest chairs that could be found. It seemed to
cousin Clara that, if these ladies could have seen
Grandfather's old chair, they would have thought it
worth all the rest together. She wondered if it were
not even older than Grandfather himself, and longed to
know all about its history.
"Do, Grandfather, talk to us about this chair,"
"Well, child," said Grandfather, patting Clara's
cheek, "I can tell you a great many stories of my
chair. Perhaps your cousin Laurence would like to
hear them too. They will teach him something about
the history and distinguished people of his country
which he has never read in any of his scool-books."
Cousin Laurence was a boy of twelve, a bright
scholar, in whom an early thoughtfulness and sensi-
bility began to show themselves. His young fancy
kindled at the idea of knowing all the adventures of
this venerable chair. He looked eagerly in Grand-
father's face; and even Charley, a bold, brisk, restless
little fellow of nine, sat himself down on the carpet,
and resolved to be quiet for at least ten minutes, should
the story last so long.
Meantime, little Alice was already asleep ; so Grand-
father, being much pleased with such an attentive au-
dience, began to talk about matters that had happened
But before relating the adventures of the chair,
Grandfather found it necessary to speak of the circum-
stances that caused the first settlement of New Eng-
land. For it will soon be perceived that the story of
this remarkable chair cannot be told without telling a
great deal of the history of the country.
So Grandfather talked about the Puritans, as those
persons were called who thought it sinful to practise
the religious forms and ceremonies which the Church
of England had borrowed from the Catholics. These
Puritans suffered so much persecution in England,
that, in 1607, many of them went over to Holland,
and lived ten or twelve years at Amsterdam and Ley-
den. But they feared that, if they continued there
much longer, they should cease to be English, and
THI MAYFLOWER AT NEW PLYMOUTH.
should adopt all the manners, and ideas, and feelings of
the Dutch. For this and other reasons, in the year
1620 they embarked on board of the ship 'Mayflower,"
and crossed the ocean, to the shores of Cape Cod. There
they made a settlement, and called it Plymouth, which,
though now a part of Massachusetts, was for a long
time a colony by itself. And thus was formed the
earliest settlement of the Puritans -in America.
Meantime, those of the Puritans who remained in
England continued to suffer grievous persecutions on
account of their religious opinions. They began to
look around them for some spot where they might
worship God, not as the king and bishops thought fit,
but according to the dictates of their own consciences.
When their brethren had gone from Holland to
America, they bethought themselves that they like-
wise might find refuge from persecution there. Several
gentlemen among them purchased a tract of country
on the coast of Massachusetts Bay, and obtained a
charter from King Charles the First, which authorized
them to make laws for the settlers. In the year 1628
they sent over a few people with John Endicott at their
head, to commence a plantation at Salem. Peter Pal-
frey, Roger Conant, and one or two more had built
houses there in 1626, and may be considered as the
first settlers of that ancient town. Many other Puri-
tans prepared to follow Endicott.
And now we come to the chair, my dear children,"
said Grandfather. "This chair is supposed to have
been made of an oak tree which grew in the park of
the English earl of Lincoln between two and three
centuries ago. In its younger days it used, probably,
to stand in the hall of the earl's castle. Do not you
see the coat of arms of the family of Lincoln carved
in the open-work of the back? But when his daugh-
ter, the Lady Arbella, was married to a certain Mr.
Johnson, the earl gave her this valuable chair."
Who was Mr. Johnson?" inquired Clara.
GRANDFA THERE'S CHAIR.
"He was a gentleman of great wealth, who agreed
with the Puritans in their religious opinions," an-
swered Grandfather. And as his belief was the same
as theirs, he resolved that he would live and die with
them. Accordingly, in the month of April, 1630, he
left his pleasant abode and all his comforts in Eng-
land, and embarked, with Lady Arbella, on board of
a ship bound for America."
As Grandfather was frequently impeded by the
questions and observations of his young auditors, we
deem it advisable to omit all such prattle as is not es-
sential to the story. We have taken some pains to
find out exactly what Grandfather said, and here offer
to our readers, as nearly as possible in his own words,
the story of
THE LADY ARBELLA.
The ship in which Mr. Johnson and his lady em-
barked, taking Grandfather's chair along with them,
was called the Arbella, in honor of the lady herself.
A fleet of ten or twelve vessels, with many hundred
passengers, left England about the same time; for a
multitude of people, who were discontented with the
king's government and oppressed by the bishops, were
flocking over to the new world. One of the vessels in
the fleet was that same "Mayflower" which had carried
the Puritan pilgrims to Plymouth. And now, my
children, I would have you fancy yourselves in the
cabin of the good ship "Arbella;" because if you could
behold the passengers aboard that vessel, you would
feel what a blessing and honor it was for New England
MONUMENT AT NEW PLYMOUTH TO MARK
THE SITE OF THE LANDING OF THE
to have such settlers. They were the best men and
women of their day.
Among the passengers was John Winthrop, who had
sold the estate of his forefathers, and was going to pre-
pare a new home for his wife and children in the wil-
derness. He had the king's charter in his keeping,
and was appointed the first Governor of Massachusetts.
Imagine him. a person of grave and benevolent aspect,
dressed in a black velvet suit, with a broad ruff around
his neck, and a peaked beard upon his chin. There
was likewise a minister of the gospel whom the Eng-
lish bishops had forbidden to preach, but who knew
that he should have the liberty both to preach and pray
in the forests of America. He wore a black cloak,
called a Geneva cloak, and had a black velvet cap, fit-
ting close to his head, as was the fashion of almost all
the Puritan clergymen. In their company came Sir
Richard Saltonstall, who had been one of the five
first projectors of the new colony. He soon returned
to his native country. But his descendants still remain
in New England; and the good old family name is as
much respected in our days as it was in those of Sir
Not only these, but several other men of wealth
and pious ministers were in the cabin of the Arbella.
One had banished himself forever from the old hall
where his ancestors had lived for hundreds of years.
Another had left his quiet parsonage, in a country-
town of England. Others had come from the uni-
versities of Oxford or Cambridge, where they had
gained great fame for their learning. And here
KING CHARLUS I., OV ENGLAND.
they all were, tossing upon the uncertain and dan-
gerous sea, and bound for a home that was more
dangerous than even the sea itself. In the cabin,
likewise, sat the Lady Arbella in her .chair, with a
gentle and sweet expression on her face, but looking
too pale and feeble to endure the hardships of the
Every morning and evening the Lady Arbella gave
up her great chair to one of the ministers, who took
his place in it and read passages from the Bible to his
companions. And thus, with prayers, and pious con-
versation and frequent singing of hymns, which the
breezes caught from their lips and scattered far over
the desolate waves, they prosecuted their voyage, and
sailed into the harbor of Salem in the month of
At that period there were but six or eight dwell-
ings in the town; and these were miserable hovels,
with roofs of straw and wooden chimneys. The pas-
sengers in the fleet either built huts with bark and
branches of trees, or erected tents of cloth till they
could provide themselves with better shelter. Many
of them went to form a settlement at Charlestown. It
was thought fit that the Lady Arbella should tarry in
Salem for a time: she was probably received as a guest
into the family of John Endicott. He was the chief
person in the plantation, and had the only comfortable
house which the new-comers had beheld since they
left England. So now, children, you must imagine
Grandfather's chair in the midst of a new scene.
Suppose it is a hot summer's day, and the lattice-
ORANDFA iHER 'S CHA IR.
window of a chamber in Mr. Endicott's house thrown
wide open. The Lady Arbella, looking paler than
she did on shipboard, is sitting in her chair and think-
ing mournfully of far-off England. She rises and
goes to the window. There, amid patches of garden
GRANDFATHER 'S CHAIR.
ground and cornfield, she sees the few wretched hovels
of the settlers, with the still ruder wigwams and cloth
tents of the passengers who had arrived in the same
fleet with herself. Far and near stretches the dismal
forest of pine trees, which throw their black shadows
over the whole land, and likewise over the heart of
this poor lady.
All the inhabitants of the little village are busy.
One is clearing a spot on the verge of the forest for
his homestead; another is hewing the trunk of a fallen
pine tree, in order to build himself a dwelling; a third
is hoeing his field of Indian corn. Here comes a
huntsman out of the woods, dragging a bear which he
has shot, and shouting to the neighbors to lend him a
hand. There goes a man to the sea-shore with a
spade and a bucket, to dig a mess of clams, which
were a principal article of food with the first settlers.
Scattered here and there are two or three dusky fig-
ures, clad in mantles of fur, with ornaments of bone
hanging from their ears, and the feathers of wild birds
in their coal black hair. They have belts of shell-
work slung across their shoulders, and are armed with
bows and arrows and flint-headed spears. These are
an Indian Sagamore and his attendants, who have
come to gaze at the labors of the white men. And
now rises a cry that a pack of wolves have seized a
young calf in the pasture; and every man snatches
up his gun or pike and runs in chase of the maraud-
Poor Lady Arbella watches all these sights, and
feels that this new world is fit only for rough and
hardy people. None should be here but those who
can struggle with wild beasts and wild men, and can
toil in the heat or cold, and can keep their hearts firm
TOMB OF THE MATE OF THE "MAYFLOWER."
against all difficulties and dangers. But she is not
one of these. Her gentle and timid spirit sinks
within her; and, turning away from the window, she
sits down in the great chair and wonders where-
about in the wilderness her friends will dig her grave.
Mr. Johnson had gone, with Governor Winthrop
and most of the other passengers, to Boston, where
he intended to build a house for Lady Arbella and
himself Boston was then covered with wild woods,
and had fewer inhabitants, even, than Salem. Dur-
ing her husband's absence, poor Lady Arbella felt
herself growing ill, and was hardly able to stir from
the great chair. Whenever John Endicott noticed
her despondency, he doubtless addressed her with
words of comfort.
"Cheer up, my good lady !" he would say. "In a
little time, you will love this rude life .of the wilder-
ness as I do."
But Endicott's heart was as bold and resolute as
iron, and he could not understand why a woman's
heart should not be of iron too.
Still, however, he spoke kindly to the lady, and
then hastened forth to till his cornfield and set out
fruit trees, or to bargain with the Indians for furs, or
perchance to oversee the building of a fort. Also, be-
ing a magistrate, he had often to punish some idler or
evil doer, by ordering him to be set in the stocks or
scourged at the whipping-post. Often, too, as was
the custom of the times, he and Mr. Higginson, the
minister of Salem, held long religious talks together.
Thus John Endicott was a man of multifarious busi-
ness, and had no time to look back regretfully to his
native land. He felt himself fit for the new world
and for the work that he had to do, and set himself
resolutely to accomplish it,
What a contrast, my dear children, between this
bold, rough, active man, and the gentle Lady Arbella,
who was fading away, like a pale English flower, in
the shadow of the forest! And now the great chair
BIBLE BROUGHT OVER IN THE MAYFLOWER," IN
PILGRIM HALL, NEW PLYMOUTH.
was often empty, because Lady Arbella grew too weak
to arise from bed.
Meantime, her husband had pitched upon a spot
for their new home. He returned from Boston to
Salem, travelling through the woods on foot, and lean-
ing on his pilgrim's staff. His heart yearned within
him; for he was eager to tell his wife of the new
home which he had chosen. But when he beheld her
pale and hollow cheek, and found how her strength
was wasted, he must have known that her appointed
home was in a better land. Happy for him then-
happy both for him and her-if they remembered
that there was a path to heaven, as well from this
heathen wilderness as from the Christian land whence
they had come. And so, in one short month from her
arrival, the gentle Lady Arbella faded away and died.
They dug a grave for her in the new soil, where the
roots of the pine trees impeded their spades; and when
her bones had rested there nearly two hundred years,
and a city had sprung up around them, a church of
stone was built upon the spot.
Charley, almost at the commencement of the fore-
going narrative, had galloped away, with a prodigious
clatter, upon Grandfather's stick, and was not yet re-
turned. So large a boy should have been ashamed to
ride upon a stick. But Laurence and Clara had lis-
tened attentively, and were affected by this true story
of the gentle lady who had come so far to die so soon.
Grandfather had supposed that little Alice was asleep;
but towards the close of the story, happening to look
down upon her, he saw that her blue eyes were wide
open, and fixed earnestly upon his face. The tears
had gathered in them, like dew upon a delicate flower;
but when Grandfather ceased to speak, the sunshine
of her smile broke forth again.
Oh, the lady must have been so glad to get to
Heaven!" exclaimed little Alice.
GRANDFA THEIR 'S CHAIR.
"Grandfather, what became of Mr. Johnson?"
"His heart appears to have been quite broken,"
answered Grandfather; "for he died at Boston within
a month after the death of his wife. He was buried in
the very same tract of ground where he had intended
to build a dwelling for Lady Arbella and himself.
Where their house would have stood, there was his
"I never heard anything so melancholy!" said
"The people loved and respected Mr. Johnson so
much," continued Grandfather, "that it was the last
request of many of them, when they died, that they
might be buried as near as possible to this good man's
grave. And so the field became the first burial-ground
in Boston. When you pass through Tremont Street,
along by King's Chapel, you see a burial-ground con-
taining many old grave-stones and monuments. That
was Mr. Johnson's field."
How sad is the thought," observed Clara, "that
one of the first things that the settlers had to do, when
they came to the new world, was to set apart a burial-
"Perhaps," said Laurence, "if they had found no
need of burial-grounds here, they would have been
glad, after a few years, to go back to England."
Grandfather looked at Laurence, to discover whether
he knew how profound and true a thing he had said.
Not long after Grandfather had told the story of
his great chair there chanced to be a rainy day. Our
friend Charley, after disturbing the household with
beat of drum and riotous shouts, races up and down
the staircase, overturning of chairs, and much other
uproar, began to feel the quiet and confinement within
doors intolerable. But as the rain came down in a
flood, the little fellow was hopelessly a prisoner, and
now stood with sullen aspect at a window, wondering
GRANDFA THEIR' S CHAIR.
whether the sun itself was not extinguished by so
much moisture in the sky.
Charley had already exhausted the less eager activ-
ity of the other children; and they had betaken them-
selves to occupations which did not admit of his com-
panionship. Laurence sat in a recess near the book-
case, reading, not for the first time, the Midsummer
Night's Dream. Clara was making a rosary of beads
for a little figure of a Sister of Charity, who was to
attend the Bunker Hill fair and lend her aid in erect-
ing the Monument. Little Alice sat on Grandfather's
footstool, with a picture book in her hand; and, for
every picture, the child was telling Grandfather a
story. She did hot read from the book (for little
Alice had not much skill in reading), but told the story
out of her own heart and mind.
Charley was too big a boy, of course, to care any-
thing about little Alice's stories, although Grandfather
appeared to listen with a good deal of interest. Often,
in a young child's ideas and fancies, there is some-
thing which requires the thought of a lifetime to com-
prehend. But Charley was of opinion that, if a story
must be told, it had better be told by Grandfather
than little Alice.
Grandfather, I want to hear more about your
chair," said he.
Now, Grandfather remembered that Charley had
galloped away upon a stick in the midst of the narra-
tive of poor Lady Arbella, and I know not whether
he would have thought it worth while to tell another
story merely to gratify such an inattentive auditor as
THE MONUMENT AT BUNKER'S HIIL.
GRANDFA THEIR'S CHAIR.
Charley. But Laurence laid down his book and sec-
onded the request. Clara drew her chair nearer to
Grandfather; and little Alice immediately closed her
picture book and looked up into his face. Grandfather
had not the heart to disappoint them.
He mentioned several persons who had a share in
the settlement of our country, and who would be well
worthy of remembrance, if we could find room to tell
about them all. Among the rest, Grandfather spoke
of the famous Hugh Peters, a minister of the gospel,
who did much good to the inhabitants of Salem. Mr.
Peters afterwards went back to England, and was
chaplain to Oliver Cromwell; but Grandfather did not
tell the children what became of this upright and zeal-
ous man at last. In fact, his auditors were growing
impatient to hear more about the history of the chair.
After the death of Mr. Johnson," said he, Grand-
father's chair came into the possession of Roger Wil-
liams. He was a clergyman, who arrived at Salem,
and settled there in 1631. Doubtless the good man
has spent many a studious hour in this old chair, either
penning a sermon or reading some abstruse book of
theology, till midnight came upon him unawares. At
that period, as there were few lamps or candles to be
had people used to read or work by the light of pitch-
pine torches. These supplied the place of the mid-
night oil' to the learned men of New England."
Grandfather went on to talk about Roger Williams,
and told the children several particulars, which we
have not room to repeat. One incident, however,
which was connected with his life, must be related,
because it will give the reader an idea of the opinions
and feelings of the first settlers of New England. It
was as follows:
THE RED CROSS.
While Roger Williams sat in Grandfather's chair
at his humble residence in Salem, John Endicott
would often come to visit him. As the clergy had
great influence in temporal concerns, the minister and
magistrate would talk over the occurrences of the day,
and consult how the people might be governed accord-
ing to scriptural laws.
One thing especially troubled them both. In the
old national banner of England, under which her sol-
diers have fought for hundreds of years, there is a
Red Cross, which has been there ever since the days
when England was in subjection to the Pope. The
Cross, though a holy symbol, was abhorred by the
Puritans, because they considered it a relic of popish
idolatry. Now, whenever the train-band of Salem was
mustered, the soldiers, with Endicott at their head,
had no other flag to march under than this same old
papistical banner of England, with the Red Cross in
the midst of it. The banner of the Red Cross, like-
wise, was flying on the walls of the fort of Salem;
and a similar one was displayed in Boston harbor, from
the fortress on Castle Island.
"I profess, Brother Williams," Captain Endicott
would say, after they had been talking of this matter,
"it distresses a Christian man's heart to see this
idolatrous Cross flying over our heads. A stranger,
beholding it, would think that we had undergone all
our hardships and dangers, by sea and in the wilder-
ness, only to get new dominions for the Pope of
"Truly, good Mr. Endicott," Roger Williams-would
answer, "you speak as an honest man and Protestant
Christian should. For my own part, were it my
business to draw a sword, I should reckon it sinful to
fight under such a banner. Neither can I, in my pul-
pit, ask the blessing of Heaven upon it."
Such, probably, was the way in which Roger Wil-
liams and John Endicott used to talk about the banner
of the Red Cross. Endicott, who was a prompt and
resolute man, soon determined that Massachusetts, if
she could not a have a banner of her own, should at
least be delivered from that of the Pope of Rome.
Not long afterwards there was a military muster at
Salem. Every ablebodied man in the town and neigh-
borhood was there. All were well armed, with steel
caps upon their heads, plates of iron upon their
breasts and at their backs, and gorgets of steel around
their necks. When the sun shone upon these ranks
of iron-clad men, they flashed and blazed with a splen-
do' that bedazzled the wild Indians who had come
out of the woods to gaze at them. The soldiers had
long pikes, swords, and muskets, which were fired
with matches, and were almost as heavy as a small
These men had mostly a stern and rigid aspect.
To judge by their looks, you might have supposed
that there was. as much iron in their hearts as there
was upon their heads and breasts. They were all de-
voted Puritans, and of the same temper as those with
whom Oliver Cromwell afterwards overthrew the
throne of England. They hated all the relics of
popish superstition as much as Endicott himself; and
yet over their heads was displayed the banner of the
GRANDFA THEIR'S CHAIR.
Endicott was the captain of the company. While
the soldiers were expecting his orders to begin their
exercise, they saw him take tlhe banner in one hand,
holding his drawn sword in the order. Probably
he addressed them in a speech, and explained how
horrible a thing it was that men, who had fled
from popish idolatry into the wilderness, should
be compelled to fight under its symbols here.
Perhaps he concluded his address somewhat in the
And now, fellow soldiers, you see this old banner
of England. Some of you, I doubt not, may think it
treason for a man to lay violent hands upon it. But
whether or no it be treason to man, I have good as-
surance in my conscience that it is no treason to God.
Wherefore, I have resolved that we will rather be
God's soldiers than soldiers of the Pope of Rome;
and in that mind I now cut the Papal Cross out of
And so he did. And thus, in a province belonging
to the crown of England, a captain was found bold
enough to deface the King's banner with his sword.
When Winthrop and the other wise men of Massa-
chusetts heard of it they were disquieted, being afraid
that Endicott's act would bring great trouble upon
himself and them. An account of the matter was
carried to King Charles; but he was then so much
engrossed by dissentions with his people that he had
no leisure to punish the offender. In other times, it
might have cost Endicott his life, and Massachusetts
"I should like to know, Grandfather," said Lau-
rence, when the story was ended, "whether, when
Endicott cut the red cross out of the banner, he meant
to imply that Massachusetts was independent of Eng-
"A sense of independence of his adopted country
must have been in that bold man's heart," answered
Grandfather; "but I doubt whether he had given the
matter much consideration except in its religious bear-
ing. However, it was a very remarkable affair and
a very strong expression of Puritan character.
Grandfather proceeded to speak further of Roger
Williams, and of other persons who sat in the great
chair, as will be seen in the following chapter.
"Roger Williams," said Grandfather, "did not
keep possession of the chair a great while. His opin-
ions of civil and religious matters differed, in many
respects, from those of the rulers and clergymen of
Massachusetts. Now, the wise men of those days
believed that the country could not be safe unless all
the inhabitants thought and felt alike."
"Does anybody believe so in our days, Grand-
father?" asked Laurence.
"Possibly there are some who believe it," said
Grandfather; "but they have not so much power to
act upon their belief as the magistrates and ministers
had in the days of Roger Williams. They had the
power to deprive this good man of his home, and to
send him out from the midst of them in search of a
new place of rest. He was banished in 1634, and
went first to Plymouth colony; but as the people there
held the same opinions as those of Massachusetts, he
was not suffered to remain among them. However,
the wilderness was wide enough; so Roger Williams
took his staff and travelled into the forest and made
treaties with the Indians, and began a plantation which
he called Providence."
"I have been to Providence on the railroad," said
Charley. "It is but a two hours' ride from Boston."
"Yes, Charley," replied Grandfather, "but when
Roger Williams travelled thither, over hills and val-
leys, and through the tangled woods, and across swamps
and streams, it was a journey of several days. Well,
his little plantation is now grown to be a populous
city; and the inhabitants have a great veneration for
Roger Williams. His name is familiar in the mouths
of all, because they see it on their bank-bills. How it
would have perplexed this good clergyman if he had
been told that he should give his name to the ROGER
"When he was driven from Massachusetts," said
Laurence, "and began his journey into the woods, he
must have felt as if he were burying himself forever
from the sight and knowledge of men. Yet the whole
country has now heard of him, and will remember him
"Yes," answered Grandfather; "it often happens
that the outcasts of one generation are those who are
ROGER WIILIAMS IN THE FOREST.
reverenced as the wisest and best of men by the next.
The securest fame is that which comes after a man's
death. But let us return to our story. When Roger
Williams was banished, he appears to have given the
chair to Mrs. Anne Hutchinson. At all events, it was
in her possession in 1637. She was a very sharp-
witted and well-instructed lady, and was so conscious
of her own wisdom and abilities that she thought it a
pity that the world should not have the benefit of
them. She therefore used to hold lectures in Boston
once or twice a week, at which most of the women at-
tended. Mrs. Hutchinson presided at these meetings,
sitting with great state and dignity in Grandfather's
"Grandfather, was it positively this very chair?"
demanded Clara, laying her hand upon its carved
"Why not, my dear Clara?" said Grandfather.
"Well, Mrs. Hutchinson's lectures soon caused a great
disturbance; for the ministers of Boston did not think
it safe and proper that a woman should publicly instruct
the people in religious doctrines. Moreover, she made
the matter worse by declaring that the Rev. Mr. Cotton
was the only sincerely pious and holy clergyman in
New England. Now, the clergy of those days had
quite as much share in the government of the country,
thought indirectly, as the magistrates themselves;
so you may imagine what a host of powerful
enemies were raised up against Mrs. Hutchinson.
A synod was convened; that is to say, an assem-
blage of all the ministers in Massachusetts. They
declared that there were eighty-two erroneous opin-
ions on religious subjects diffused among the people,
and that Mrs. Hutchinson's opinions were of the
If they had eighty-two wrong opinions," observed
Charley, I don't see how they could have any right
"Mrs. Hutchinson had many zealous friends and
converts," continued Grandfather. "She was favored
by young Henry Vane, who had come over from
England a year or two before, and had since been
chosen governor of the colony, at the age of twenty-
four. But Winthrop and most of the other leading
men, as well as the ministers, felt an abhorrence of
her doctrines. Thus two opposite parties were
formed; and so fierce were the dissensions that it was
feared the consequence would be civil war and blood-
shed. But Winthrop and the ministers being the
most powerful, they disarmed and imprisoned Mrs.
Hutchinson's adherents. She, like Roger Williams,
Dear Grandfather, did they drive the poor woman
into the woods ?" exclaimed little Alice, who contrived
to feel a human interest even in these discords of
They did, my darling," replied Grandfather; "and
the end of her life was so sad you must not hear it.
At her departure, it appears, from the best authorities,
that she gave the great chair to her friend, Henry
Vane. He was a young man of wonderful talents and
great learning, who had imbibed the religious opinions
of the Puritans, and left England with the intention
of spending his life in Massachusetts. The people
chose him governor; but the controversy about Mrs.
Hutchinson, and other troubles, caused him to leave the
country in 1637. You may read the subsequent events
of his life in the History of England."
"Yes, Grandfather," cried Laurence; "and we may
read them better in Mr. Upham's biography of Vane.
And what a beautiful death he died, long afterwards !
beautiful, though it was on a scaffold."
"Many of the most beautiful deaths have been
there," said Grandfather. "The enemies of a great
and good man can in no other way make him so
glorious as by giving him the crown of martyrdom."
In order that the children might fully understand
the all-important history of the chair, Grandfather now
thought fit to speak of the progress that was made in
settling several colonies. The settlement of Plymouth,
in 1620, has already been mentioned. In 1635 Mr.
Hooker and Mr. Stone, two ministers, went on foot
from Massachusetts to Connecticut, through the path-
less woods, taking their whole congregation along with
them. They founded the town of Hartford. In 1638
Mr. Davenport, a very celebrated minister, went with
other people, and began a plantation at New Haven.
In the same year, some persons who had been perse-
cuted in Massachusetts went to the Isle of Rhodes,
since called Rhode Island, and settled there. About
this time, also, many settlers had gone to Maine,
and were living without any regular government.
There were likewise settlers near Piscataqua River,
in the region which is now called New Hampshire.
Thus, at various points along the coast of New
SIR HARRY VANE.
England, there were communities of Englishmen.
Though these communities were independent of one
another, yet they had a common dependence upon
England; and, at so vast a distance from their native
home, the inhabitants must all have felt like brethren.
They were fitted to become one united people at a
future period. Perhaps their feelings of brotherhood
were the stronger because different nations had formed
settlements to the north and to the south. In Canada
and Nova Scotia were colonies of French. On the
banks of the Hudson River was a colony of Dutch, who
had taken possession of that region many years before
and called it New Netherlands.
Grandfatller, for aught I know, might have gone
on to speak of Maryland and Virginia; for the good
old gentleman really seemed to suppose that the whole
surface of the United States was not too broad a foun-
dation to place the four legs of his chair upon. But,
happening to glance at Charley, he perceived that this
naughty boy was growing impatient and meditating
another ride upon a stick. So here, for the present,
Grandfather suspended the history of his chair.
The children had now learned to look upon the
chair with an interest which was almost the same as if
it were a conscious being, and could remember the
many famous people whom it had held within its
Even Charley, lawless as he was, seemed to feel
that this venerable chair must not be clambered upon
nor overturned, although he had no scruple in taking
such liberties with every other chair in the house.
Clara treated it with still greater reverence, often tak-
ing occasion to smooth its cushion, and to brush the
dust from the carved flowers and grotesque figures of
its oaken back and arms. Laurence would sometimes
sit a whole hour, especially at twilight, gazing at the
chair, and, by the spell of his imaginations, summon-
ing up its ancient occupants to appear in it again.
Little Alice evidently employed herself in a similar
way; for once when Grandfather had gone abroad,
the child was heard talking with the gentle Lady
Arbella, as if she were still sitting in the chair. So
sweet a child as little Alice may fitly talk with angels,
such as the Lady Arbella had long since become.
Grandfather was soon importuned for more stories
about the chair. He had no difficulty in relating
them; for it really seemed as if every person noted in
our early history had, on some occasion or other,
found repose within its comfortable arms. If Grand-
father took pride in anything, it was in being the
possessor of such an honorable and historic elbow
I know not precisely who next got possession of
the chair after Governor Vane went back to England,"
said Grandfather. "But there is reason to believe
that President Dunster sat in it, when he held the
first commencement at Harvard College. You have
often heard, children, how careful our forefathers were
to give their young people a good education. They
had scarcely cut down trees enough to make room
for their own dwellings before they began to think of
establishing a college. Their principal object was, to
rear up pious and learned ministers; and hence old
writers call Harvard College a school of the prophets."
"Is the college a school of the prophets now?"
." It is a long while since I took my degree, Char-
ley. You must ask some of the recent graduates,"
answered Grandfather. "As I was telling you, Presi-
dent Dunster sat in Grandfather's chair in 1642, when
he conferred the degree of Bachelor of Arts on nine
young men. They were the first in America who had
received that honor. And now, my dear auditors, I
must confess that there are contradictory statements
and some uncertainty about the adventures of the chair
for a period of almost ten years. Some say that it was
occupied by your own ancestor, William Hawthorne,
first Speaker of the House of Representatives. I have
nearly satisfied myself, however, that, during most of
this questionable period, it was literally the Chair of
State. It gives me much pleasure to imagine that
several successive governors of Massachusetts sat in it
at the council board."
"But Grandfather," interposed Charley, who was
a matter of-fact little person, "what reason have you
to imagine so?"
Pray do imagine it, Grandfather," said Lau-
With Charley's permission, I will," replied Grand-
father, smiling. Let us consider it settled, there-
fore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, and Endi-
GRANDFATHER 'S CHAIR.
cott, each of them, when chosen governor, took his
seat in our great chair on election day. In this chair,
likewise, did those excellent governors preside while
holding consultations with the chief counsellors of
the province, who were styled assistants. The gover-
nor sat in this chair, too, whenever messages were
brought to him from the chamber of Representa-
And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather
tediously about the nature and forms of government
that established themselves, almost spontaneously, in
Massachusetts and the other New England colonies.
Democracies were the natural growth of the New
World. As to Massachusetts, it was at first intended
that the colony should be governed by a council in
London. But in a little while the people had the
whole power in their own hands, and chose annually
the governor, the counsellors, and the representatives.
The people of old England had never enjoyed any-
thing like the liberties and privileges which the settlers
of New England now possessed. And they did not
adopt these modes of government after long study,
but in simplicity, as if there were no other way for
people to be ruled.
"But, Laurence," continued Grandfather, "when
you want instruction on these points, you must seek
it in Mr. Bancroft's History. I am merely telling the
history of a chair. To proceed. The period during
which the governors sat in our chair was not very full
of striking incidents. The province was now estab-
lished on a secure foundation; but it did not increase
so rapidly as at first, because the Puritans were no
longer driven from England by persecution. How-
ever, there was still a quiet and natural growth. The
legislature incorporated towns, and made new pur-
chases of lands from the Indians. A very memorable
event took place in 1643. The colonies of Massachu-
setts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed
a union, for the purpose of assisting each other in
difficulties, for mutual defence against their enemies.
They called themselves the United Colonies of New
Were they under a government like that of the
United States ?" inquired Laurence.
"No," replied Grandfather; "the different col-
onies did not compose one nation together; it was
merely a confederacy among the governments. It
somewhat resembled the league of the Amphictyons,
which you remember in Grecian history. But to re-
turn to our chair. In 1644 it was highly honored;
for Governor Endicott sat in it when he gave audi-
ence to an ambassador from the French governor of
Acadie, or Nova Scotia A treaty of peace between
Massachusetts and the French colony was then
"Did England allow Massachusetts to make war
and peace with foreign countries?" asked Laur-
"Massachusetts and the whole of New England
was then almost independent of the mother country,"
said Grandfather. "There was now a civil war in
England; and the king, as you may well suppose, had
... *.. .. .. .
MASSACRE OF SETThERS BY THE INDIANS.
his hands full at home, and could pay but little atten'
tion to these remote colonies. When the Parliament
got the power into their hands, they likewise had
enough to do in keeping down the Cavaliers. Thus
New England, like a young and hardy lad whose
father and mother neglect it, was left to take care of
itself. In 1649 King Charles was beheaded. Oliver
Cromwell then became Protector of England; and as
he was a Puritan himself, and had risen by the valor
of the English Puritans, he showed himself a lov-
ing and indulgent father to the Puritan colonies in
Grandfather might have continued to talk in this
dull manner nobody knows how long; but suspecting
that Charley would find the subject rather dry, he
looked sidewise at that vivacious little fellow, and saw
him give an involuntary yawn. Whereupon Grand-
father proceeded with the history of the chair, and re-
lated a very entertaining incident, which will be found
in the next chapter.
"According to the most authentic records, my dear
children," said Grandfather, the chair, about this
time, had the misfortune to break its leg. It was
probably on account of this accident that it ceased to
be the seat of the governors of Massachusetts; for, as-
suredly, it would have been ominous of evil to the
commonwealth if the Chair of State had tottered upon
three legs. Being therefore sold at auction-alas! what
a vicissitude for a chair that had figured in such high
company-our venerable friend was knocked down to a
certain Captain John Hull. The old gentleman, on
carefully examining the named chair, discovered that
its broken leg might be clamped with iron and made
as serviceable as ever."
Here is the very leg that was broken exclaimed
Charley, throwing himself down on the floor to look at
it. And here are the iron clamps. How well it was
When they had all sufficiently examined the broken
leg, Grandfather told them a story about Captain John
THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS.
The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mint-
master of Massachusetts, and coined all the money that
was made there. This was a new line of business;
for, in the earlier days of the colony, the current coin-
age consisted of gold and silver money of England,
Portugal, and Spain. These coins being scarce, the
people were often forced to barter their commodities
instead of selling them.
For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he
perhaps exchanged a bear skin for it. If he wished
for a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a
pile of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used instead
of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money, called
wampun, which was made of clam shells; and this
strange sort of specie was likewise taken in payment
of debts by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never
been heard of. There was not money enough of any
kind, in many parts of the country, to pay the salaries
of the ministers; so that they sometimes had to take
quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords or wood,
instead of silver or gold.
As the people grew more numerous, and their trade
with one another increased, the want of current money
was still more sensibly felt. To supply the demand,
the general court passed a law for establishing a coin-
age of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain
John Hull was appointed to manufacture this money,
and was to have about one shilling out of every twenty
to pay him for the trouble of making them.
Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was
handed over to Captain John Hull. The battered
silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver buckles,
and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out
coats, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at
court, all such curious old articles were doubtless
thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far the
greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the
mines of South America, which the English buccaneers
(who were little better than pirates) had taken from
the Spaniards, and brought to Massachusetts.
All this old and new silver being melted down and
coined, the result was an immense amount of splendid
shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Each had the
date, 1652, on the one side, and the figure of a pine-
tree on the other. Hence they were called pine-tree
shillings. And for every twenty shillings that he
coined, you will remember, Captain John Hull was
entitled to put one shilling in his own pocket.
The magistrates soon began to suspect that the
mint-master would have the best of the bargain. They
GRANDFA THEIR'S CHAIR.
offered him a large sum of money if he would but give
up that twentieth shilling which he was continually
dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull
declared himself perfectly satisfied with the shilling.
And well he might be; for so diligently did he labor
that, in a few years, his pockets, his money bags, and
his strong box were overflowing with pine-tree shil-
lings. This was probably the case when he came. into
possession of Grandfather's chair; and, as he had
worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper
that he should have a comfortable chair to rest him-
When the mint-master had grown very rich, a
young man, Samuel Sewell by name, came a courting
to his only daughter. His daughter-whose name I
do not know, but we will call her Betsey-was a fine,
hearty damsel, by no means so slender as some young
ladies of our own days. On the contrary, having
always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian
puddings, and other Puritan dainties, she was as round
and plump as a pudding herself. With this round,
rosy Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewell fall in love. As
he was a young man of good character, industrious in
his business, and a member of the church, the mint-
master very readily gave his consent.
"Yes-you may take her," said he in his rough
way, "and you will find her a heavy burden enough!"
On the wedding day, we may suppose that honest
John Hull dressed himself in a plum-colored coat, all
the buttons of which were made of pine-tree shillings.
The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences; and the
knees of his small clothes were buttoned with silver
threepences. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity
in Grandfather's chair; and, being a portly old gentle-
man, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On
the opposite side of the room, between her bridemaids'
sat Miss Betsey. She was blushing with all her might,
and looked like a full blown peony, or a great red
There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine
purple coat and gold lace waistcoat, with as much other
finery as the Puritan laws and customs would allow
him to put on. His hair was cropped close to his
head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any
man to wear it below the ears. But he was a very
personable young man; and so thought the bridesmaids
and Miss Betsey herself.
The mint-master also was pleased with his new son-
in-law; especially as he had courted Miss Betsey out
of pure love, and had said nothing at all about her
portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over,
Captain Hull whispered a word to two of his men-ser-
vants, who immediately went out, and soon returned,
lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a
pair as wholesale merchants used for weighing bulky
commodities; and quite a bulky commodity was now
to be weighed in them.
"Daughter Betsey," said the mint-master, "get
into one side of these scales."
Miss Betsey-or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now
call her-did as she was bid, like a dutiful child,
without any question of the why and wherefore.
But what her father could mean, unless to make
her husband pay for her by the pound (in which
case she would have been a dear bargain), she had
not the least idea.
"And now," said honest John Hull to the servants,
"bring that box hither."
The box to which the mint-master pointed was a
huge, square, iron bound, oaken chest; it was big
enough, my children, for all four of you to play at
hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might
and main, but could not lift this enormous receptacle,
and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor.
Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, unlocked
the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold it was
full to the brim of bright pine-tree shillings, fresh
from the mint; and Samuel Sewell began to think
his father-in-law had got possession of all the money in
the Massachusetts treasury. But it was only the mint-
master's honest share of the coinage.
Then the servants at Captain Hull's command,
heaped double handfuls of shillings into one side of
the scales, while Betsey remained in the other. Jin-
gle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful after hand-
ful was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she
was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the
"There, son Sewell !" cried the honest mint-mas-
ter, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair. "Take
these shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her
kindly, and thank Heaven for her. It is not every
wife that's worth her weight in silver I"
The children laughed heartily at this legend, and
would hardly be convinced but that Grandfather had
made it out of his own head. He assured them faith-
fully, however, that he had found it in the pages of a
grave historian, and had merely tried to tell it in a
somewhat funnier style. As for Samuel Sewell, he
afterwards became Chief Justice of Massachusetts.
"Well, Grandfather," remarked Clara, "if wedding
portions now-a-days were paid as Miss Betsey's was,
young ladies would not pride themselves upon an airy
figure, as many of them do."
When his little audience next assembled round the
chair, Grandfather gave them a doleful history of the
Quaker persecution, which began in 1656, and raged
for about three years in Massachusetts.
He told them how, in the first place, twelve of the
converts of George Fox, the first Quaker in the world,
had come over from England. They seemed to be im-
pelled by an earnest love for the souls of men, and
a pure desire to make known what they considered
a revelation from Heaven. But the rulers looked upon
them as plotting the downfall of all government and
religion. They were banished from the colony. In
a little while, however, not only the first twelve had
returned, but a multitude of other Quakers had come
to rebuke the rulers and to preach against the priests
GRANDFATHER 'S CHAl-R.
Grandfather described the hatred and scorn with
which these enthusiasts were received. They were
thrown into dungeons; they were beaten with many
stripes, women as well as men; they were driven
forth into the wilderness, and left to the tender mer-
cies of wild beasts and Indians. The children were
amazed to hear that the more the Quakers were
scourged, and imprisoned and banished, the more did
the sect increase, both by the influx of strangers and
by converts from among the Puritans. But Grand-
father told them that God had put something into
the soul of man, which always turned the cruelties of
the persecutors to nought.
He went on to relate that, in 1659, two Quakers,
named William Robinson and Marmaduke Stephenson,
were hanged at Boston. A woman had been sentenced
to die with them, but was reprieved on condition of
her leaving the colony. Her name was Mary Dyer.
In the year 1660 she returned to Boston, although she
knew death awaited her there; and, if Grandfather
had been correctly informed, an incident had then
taken place which connects her with our story. This
Mary Dyer had entered the mint-master's dwelling,
clothed in sackcloth and ashes, and seated herself in
our great chair with a sort of dignity and state.
Then she proceeded to deliver what she called a mes-
sage from Heaven, but in the midst of it they dragged
her to prison.
"And was she executed?" asked Laurence.
"She was," said Grandfather.
"Grandfather," cried Charley, clinching his fist,
"I would have fought for that poor Quaker woman !"
"Ah! but if a sword had been drawn for her,"
said Laurence, "it would have taken away all the
beauty of her death."
It seemed as if hardly any of the preceding stories
had thrown such an interest around Grandfather's
chair as did the fact that the poor, persecuted, wander-
ing Quaker woman had rested in it for a moment.
The children were so much excited that Grandfather
found it necessary to bring his account of the persecu-
tion to a close.
In 166o, the same year in which Mary Dyer was
executed," said he, Charles the Second was restored
to the throne of his fathers. This king had many
vices; but he would not permit blood to be shed,
under pretence of religion, in any part of his domin-
ions. The Quakers in England told him what had
been done to their brethren in Massachusetts; and he
sent orders to Governor Endicott to forbear all such
proceedings in future. And so ended the Quaker
persecution,-one of the most mournful passages in
the history of our forefathers."
Grandfather then told his auditors, that, shortly
after the above incident, the great chair had been
given by the mint-master to the Rev. Mr. John Eliot.
He was the first minister of Roxbury. But besides
attending to the pastoral duties there, he learned the
language of the red men, and often went into the
woods to preach to them. So earnestly did he labor
for their conversion that he has always been called
the apostle to the Indians. The mention of this holy
man suggested to Grandfather the propriety of giving
a brief sketch of the history of the Indians, so far as
they were connected with the English colonists.
A short period before the arrival of the first Pil-
grims at Plymouth there had been a very grievous
plague among the red men; and the sages and minis-
ters of that day were inclined to the opinion that
Providence had sent this mortality in order to make
room for the settlement of the English. But I know
not why we should suppose that an Indian's life is less
precious, in the eye of Heaven, than that of a white
man. Be that as it may, death had certainly been very
busy with the savage tribes.
In many places the English found the wigwams de-
serted and the corn-fields growing to waste, with none
to harvest the grain. There were heaps of earth also,
which, being dug open, proved to be Indian graves,
containing bows and flint-headed spears and arrows;
for the Indians buried the dead warrior's weapons
along with him. In some spots there were skulls and
other human bones lying unburied. In 1633, and the
year afterwards, the small-pox broke out among the
Massachusetts Indians, multitudes of whom died by
this terrible disease of the old world. These misfor-
tunes made them far less powerful than they had for-
For nearly half a century after the arrival of the
English the red men showed themselves generally in-
clined to peace and amity. They often made submis-
sion when they might have made successful war.
The Plymouth settlers, led by the famous Captain
Miles Standish, slew some of them, in 1623, without
any very evident necessity for so doing. In 1636,
and the following year, there was the most dreadful
war that had yet occurred between the Indians and
the English. The Connecticut settlers, assisted by a
celebrated Indian chief named Uncas, bore the brunt
of this war, with but little aid from Massachusetts.
Many hundreds of the hostile Indians were slain or
burnt in their wigwams. Sassacus, their sachem, fled
to another tribe, after his own people were defeated;
but he was murdered by them, and his head was sent to
his English enemies.
From that period down to the time of King Philip's
war, which will be mentioned hereafter, there was not
much trouble with the Indians. But the colonists were
always on their guard, and kept their weapons ready
for the conflict.
"I have sometimes doubted," said Grandfather,
when he had told these things to the children, "I
have sometimes doubted whether there was more than
a single man among our forefathers, who realized
that an Indian' possesses a mind, and a heart, and an
immortal soul. That single man was John Eliot. All
the rest of the early settlers seemed to think that the
Indians were an inferior race of beings, whom the Cre-
ator had merely allowed to keep possession of this
beautiful country till the white men should be in
want of it."
Did the pious men of those days never try to make
Christians of them?" said Laurence.
"Sometimes, it is true," answered Grandfather,
CHARLBS II. OF ENGLAND
" the magistrates and ministers would talk about civil-
izing and converting the red people. But, at the
bottom of their hearts, they would have had almost
as much expectation of civilizing the wild bear of the
woods and making him fit for paradise. They felt no
faith in the success of any such attempts, because they
had no love for the poor Indians. Now, Eliot was
full of love for them; and therefore so full of faith
and hope that he spent the labor of a lifetime in their
I would have conquered them first, and then con-
verted them," said Charley.
"Ah, Charley, there spoke the very spirit of our
forefathers !" replied Grandfather. But Mr. Eliot had
a better spirit. He looked upon them as his brethren.
He persuaded as many of them as he could to leave
off their idle and wandering habits, and to build houses
and cultivate the earth, as the English did. He estab-
lished schools among them and taught many of the In-
dians how to read. He taught them, likewise, how to
pray. Hence they were called 'praying Indians.'
Finally, having spent the best years of his life for their
good, Mr. Eliot resolved to spend the remainder in
doing them a yet greater benefit."
"I know what that was !" cried Laurence.
He sat down in his study," continued Grandfather,
"and began a translation of the Bible into the Indian
tongue. It was while he was engaged in this pious
work that the mint-master gave him our great chair.
His toil needed it and deserved it."
"0 Grandfather, tell us all about that Indian
Bible!" exclaimed Laurence. "I have seen it in the
library of the Atheneum; and the tears came into
my eyes to think that there were no Indians left to
As Grandfather was a great admirer of the Apostle
Eliot, he was glad to comply with the earnest request
which Laurence had made at the close of the last
chapter. So he proceeded to describe how good Mr.
Eliot labored, while he was at work upon
THE INDIAN BIBLE.
My dear children, what a task would you think it,
even with a long lifetime before you, were you bidden
to copy every chapter, and verse, and word in yonder
family Bible Would not this be a heavy toil? But
if the task were, not to write off the English Bible, but
to learn a language utterly unlike all other tongues-a
language which hitherto had never been learned, except
by the Indians themselves, from their mothers' lips-a
language never written, and the strange words of which
seemed inexpressible by letters ;-if the task were, first
to learn this new variety of speech, and then to trans-
late the Bible into it, and to do it so carefully that not
one idea throughout the holy book should be changed,
-what would induce you to undertake this toil? Yet
this was what the Apostle Eliot did.
It was a mighty work for a man, now growing old,
to take upon himself. And what earthly reward could
he expect from it? None; no reward on earth. But
he believed that the red men were the descendants of
those lost tribes of Israel of whom history has been
able to tell us nothing for thousands of years. He
hoped that God had sent the English across the ocean,
Gentiles as they were, to enlighten this benighted por-
tion of his once chosen race. And when he should be
summoned hence, he trusted to meet blessed spirits
in another world, whose bliss would have been earned
by his patient toil in translating the Word of God.
This hope and trust were far dearer to him than any-
thing that earth could offer.
Sometimes, while thus at work, he was visited by
learned men, who desired to know what literary un-
dertaking Mr. Eliot had in hand. They, like himself,
had been bred in the studious cloisters of a univer-
sity, and were supposed to possess all the erudition
which mankind has hoarded up from age to age.
Greek and Latin were as familiar to them as the bab-
ble of their childhood. Hebrew was like their mother
tongue. They had grown gray in study; their eyes
were bleared with poring over print and manuscript
by the light of the midnight lamp..
And yet, how much had they left unlearned Mr.
Eliot would put into their hands some of the pages
which he had been writing; and behold! the gray
headed men stammered over the long, strange words,
like a little child in his first attempts to read. Then
would the apostle call to him an Indian boy, one of
his scholars, and show him the manuscript which had
so puzzled the learned Englishmen.
GRANDFA THEIR'S CHAIR.
"Read this, my child," said he; "these are some
brethren of mine, who would fain hear the sound of
thy native tongue."
Then would the Indian boy cast his eyes over the
mysterious page, and read it so skilfully that it sounded
like wild music. It seemed as if the forest leaves were
singing in the ears of his auditors, and as if the roar
of distant streams were poured through the young
Indian's voice. Such were the sounds amid which the
language of the red men had been formed; and they
were still heard to echo in it
The lesson being over, Mr. Eliot would give the
Indian boy an apple or a cake, and bid him leap forth
into the open air which his free nature loved. The
apostle was kind to children, and even shared in their
sports sometimes. And when his visitors had bidden
him farewell, the good man turned patiently to his toil
No other Englishman has ever understood the
Indian character so well, nor possessed so great an
influence over the New England tribes, as the apostle
did. His advice and assistance must often have been
valuable to his countrymen, in their transactions with
the Indians. Occasionally, perhaps, the governor and
some of the counsellors came to visit Mr. Eliot. Per-
chance they were seeking some method to circumvent
the forest people. They inquired, it may be, how they
could obtain possession of such and such a tract of
their rich land. Or they talked of making the Indians
their servants, as if God had destined them for perpet-
ual bondage to the more powerful white man.
Perhaps, too, some warlike captain, dressed in
his buff-coat, with a corselet beneath it, accom-
panied the governor and counsellors. Laying his
hand upon his sword hilt, he would declare, that
the only method of dealing with the red men was
to meet them with the sword drawn and the musket
But the apostle resisted both the craft of the politi-
cian and the fierceness of the warrior.
"Treat these sons of the forest as men and breth-
ren," he would say; "and let us endeavor to make
them Christians. Their forefathers were of that
chosen race whom God delivered from Egyptian bond-
age. Perchance he has destined us to deliver the
children from the more cruel bondage of ignorance
and idolatry. Chiefly for this end, it may be, we were
directed across the ocean."
When these other visitors were gone, Mr. Eliot
bent himself again over the half written page. He
dared hardly relax a moment from his toil. He felt
that, in the book which he was translating, there was
a deep human as well as heavenly wisdom, which
would of itself suffice to civilize and refine the savage
tribes. Let the Bible be diffused among them, and
all earthly good would follow. But how slight a con-
sideration was this, when he reflected that the eternal
welfare of a whole race of men depended upon his
accomplishment of the task which he had set himself!
What if his hand should be palsied? What if his
mind should lose its vigor? What if death should
come upon him ere the work were done? Then
must the red man wander in the dark wilderness of
Impelled by such thoughts as these, he sat writing
in the great chair when the pleasant summer breeze
came in through his open casement; and also when
the fire of forest logs sent up its blaze and smoke,
through the broad stone chimney, into the wintry
air. Before the earliest bird sang in the morning
the apostle's lamp was kindled; and, at midnight,
his weary head was not yet upon its pillow. And
at length, leaning back in the great chair, he could
say to himself, with a holy triumph,-" The work is
It was finished. Here was a Bible for the Indians.
Those long lost descendants of the ten tribes of Israel
would now learn the history of their forefathers. That
grace which the ancient Israelites had forfeited was
offered anew to their children.
There is no impiety in believing that, when his
long life was over, the apostle of the Indians was
welcomed to the celestial abodes by the prophets of
ancient days and by those earliest apostles and evan-
gelists who had drawn their inspiration from the
immediate presence of the Saviour. They first had
preached truth and salvation to the world. And
Eliot, separated from them by many centuries, yet
full of the same spirit, had borne the like message
to the new world of the West. Since the first days
of Christianity, there has been no man more worthy
to be numbered in the brotherhood of the apostle
My heart is not satisfied to think," observed Lau-
rence, "that Mr. Eliot's labors have done no good
except to a few Indians of his own time. Doubtless
he would not have regretted his toil, if it were the
means of saving but a single soul. But it is a grievous
thing to me that he should have toiled so hard to trans-
late the Bible, and now the language and the people
are gone! The Indian Bible itself is almost the only
relic of both."
"Laurence," said his Grandfather, "if ever you
should doubt that man is capable of disinterested zeal
for his brother's good, then remember how the apostle
Eliot toiled. And if you should feel your own self-
interest pressing upon your heart too closely, then
think of Eliot's Indian Bible. It is good for the
world that such a man has lived and left this emblem
of his life."
The tears gushed into the eyes of Laurence, and he
acknowledged that Eliot had not toiled in vain. Lit-
tle Alice put up her arms to Grandfather, and drew
down his white head beside her own golden locks.
"Grandfather," whispered she, "I want to kiss
good Mr. Eliot!"
And, doubtless, good Mr. Eliot would gladly re-
ceive the kiss of so sweet a child as little Alice, and
would think it a portion of his reward in heaven.
Grandfather now observed that Dr. Francis had
written a very beautiful Life of Eliot which he ad-
vised Laurence to peruse. He then spoke of King
Philip's War, which began in 1675, and terminated
with the death of King Philip, in the following year,
Philip was a proud, fierce Indian, whom Mr. Eliot had
vainly endeavored to convert to the Christian faith.
It must have been a great anguish to the apostle,"
continued Grandfather, "to hear of mutual slaughter
and outrage between his own countrymen and those
for whom he felt the affection of a father. A few of
the praying Indians joined the followers of King
Philip. A greater number fought on the side of the
English. In the course of the war the little commu-
nity of red people whom Mr. Eliot had begun to civ-
ilize was scattered, and probably never was restored
to a flourishing condition. But his zeal did not grow
cold; and only about five years before his death he
took great pains in preparing a new edition of the In-
"I do wish, Grandfather," cried Charley, "you
would tell us all about the battles in King Philip's
no!" exclaimed Clara. "Who wants to hear
about tomahawks and scalping-knives! "
"No, Charley," replied Grandfather, "I have no
time to spare in talking about battles. You must be
content with knowing that it was the bloodiest war
that the Indians had ever waged against the white
men; and that, at its close, the English set King
Philip's head upon a pole."
"Who was the captain of the English?" asked
"Their most noted captain was Benjamin Church,
-a very famous warrior," said Grandfather. "But
I assure you, Charley, that neither Captain Church,
nor any of the officers and soldiers who fought in
King Philip's War, did anything a thousandth part so
glorious as Mr. Eliot did when he translated the Bible
for the Indians."
"Let Laurence be the apostle," said Charley to
himself, "and I will be the captain."
The children were now accustomed to assemble
round Grandfather's chair at all their unoccupied
moments ; and often it was a striking picture to behold
the white headed old sire, with this flowery wreath of
young people around him. When he talked to them,
it was the past speaking to the present,-or rather to
the future, for the children were of a generation which
had not become actual. Their part in life, thus far,
was only to be happy and to draw knowledge from
a thousand sources. As yet, it was not their time to
Sometimes, as Grandfather gazed at their fair,
unworldly countenances, a mist of tears bedimmed his
spectacles. He almost regretted that it was necessary
for them to know anything of the past or to provide
aught for the future. He could have wished that they
might be always the happy, youthful creatures who
had hitherto sported around his chair, without inquir-
ing whether it had a history. It grieved him to think
that his little Alice, who was a flower-bud fresh from
paradise, must open her leaves to the rough breezes of
the world, or ever open them in any clime. So sweet
a child she was, that it seemed fit her infancy should
SIR EDMUND ANDROS.
But such repining were merely flitting shadows
across the old man's heart. He had faith enough to
believe, and wisdom enough to know, that the bloom
of the flower would be even holier and happier than
its bud. Even within himself-though Grandfather
was now at that period of life when the veil of mor-
tality is apt to hang heavily over the soul,-still, in
his inmost being he was conscious of something that
he would not have exchanged for the best happiness
of childhood. It was a bliss to which every sort of
earthly experience-all that he had enjoyed, or suf-
fered, or seen, or heard, or acted, with the broodings
of his soul upon the whole-had contributed some-
what. In the same manner must a bliss, of which
now they could have no conception, grow up within
these children, and form a part of their sustenance for
So Grandfather, with renewed cheerfulness, contin-
ued his history of the chair, trusting that a profounder
wisdom than his own would extract, from these flowers
and weeds of Time, a fragrance that might last beyond
At this period of the story Grandfather threw a
glance backward as far as the year 1660. He spoke
of the ill-concealed reluctance with which the Puritans
in America had acknowledged the sway of Charles the
Second on his restoration to his father's throne. When
death had stricken Oliver Cromwell, that mighty pro-
tector had no sincere mourners than in New England.
The new king had been more than a year upon the
throne before his accession was proclaimed in Boston;
although the neglect to perform the ceremony might
have subjected the rulers to the charge of treason.
THE: PURITANS BgFOR" JAMES I. OF ENGLAND.
During the reign of Charles the Second, however,
the American colonies had but little reason to com-
plain of harsh or tyrannical treatment. But when
Charles died, in 1685, and was succeeded by his
brother James, the patriarchs of New England began
to tremble. King James was a bigoted Catholic, and
was known to be of an arbitrary temper. It was
feared by all Protestants, and chiefly by the Puritans,
that he would assume despotic power and attempt to
establish Popery throughout his dominions. Our fore-
fathers felt that they had no security either for their
religion or their liberties.
The result proved that they had reason for their
apprehensions. King James caused the charters of all
the American colonies to be taken away. The old
charter of Massachusetts, which the people regarded as
a holy thing and as the foundation of all their liberties,
was declared void. The colonists were now no longer
freemen; they were entirely dependent on the king's
pleasure. At first, in 1685, King James appointed
Joseph Dudley, a native of Massachusetts, to be presi-
dent of New England. But soon afterwards Sir Ed-
mund Andros, an officer of the English army, arrived,
with a commission to be governor-general of New
England and New York.
The king had given such powers to Sir Edmund
Andros that there was now no liberty, nor scarcely
any law, in the colonies over which h2 ruled. The
inhabitants were not allowed to choose representatives,
and consequently had no voice whatever in the gov-
ernment, nor control over the measures that were
BRADFORD'S MONUM V r E PYOUTH.
GRANDFA THEIR'S CHAIR.
adopted. The counsellors with whom the governor
consulted on matters of state were appointed by him-
self. This sort of government was no better than an
"The people suffered much wrong while Sir Ed-
mund Andros ruled over them," continued Grand-
father; "and they were apprehensive of much more.
He had brought some soldiers with him from England,
who took possession of the old fortress on Castle Island
and of the fortification on Fort Hill. Sometimes it
was rumored that a general massacre of the inhabi-
tants was to be perpetrated by these soldiers. There
were reports, too, that all the ministers were to be
slain or imprisoned."
"For what ?" inquired Charley.
"Because they were the leaders of the people,
Charley," said Grandfather. "A minister was a more
formidable man than a general in those days. Well;
while these things were going on in America, King
James had so misgoverned the people of England that
they sent over to Holland for the Prince of Orange.
He had married the king's daughter, and was therefore
considered to have a claim to the crown. On his
arrival in England, the Prince of Orange was pro-
claimed king, by the name of William the Third.
Poor old King James made his escape to France."
Grandfather told how, at the first intelligence of
the landing of the Prince of Orange in England, the
people of Massachusetts rose in their strength and
overthrew the government of Sir Edmund Andros.
He, with Joseph Dudley, Edmund Randolph,-and his
COMMISSIONERS LANDING AT BOSTON.
other principal adherents, was thrown into prison.
Old Simon Bradstreet, who had been governor when
King James took away the charter, was called by the
people to govern them again.
"Governor Bradstreet was a venerable old man,
nearly ninety years of age," said Grandfather. "He
came over with the first settlers, and had been the inti-
mate companion of all those excellent and famous men
who laid the foundation of our country. They were
all gone before him to the grave; and Bradstreet was
the last of the Puritans."
Grandfather paused a moment and smiled, as if he
had something very interesting to tell his auditors.
He then proceeded:
"And now, Laurence,-now, Clara,-now, Char-
ley,-now, my dear little Alice,-what chair do you
think had been placed in the council chamber, for
old Governor Bradstreet to take his seat in ? Would
you believe that it was this very chair in which grand-
father now sits, and of which he is telling you the
"I am glad to hear it, with all my heart!" cried
Charley, after a shout of delight. I thought Grand-
father had quite forgotten the chair."
It was a solemn and affecting sight," said Grand-
father, "when this venerable patriarch, with his white
beard flowing down upon his breast, took his seat in
his Chair of State. Within his remembrance, and
even since his mature age, the site where now stood
the populous town had been a wild and forest-covered
peninsula. The province, now so fertile and spotted
with thriving villages, had.been a desert wilderness.
He was surrounded by a shouting multitude, most of
whom had been born in the country which he had
helped to found. They were of one generation, he of
another. As the old man looked upon them, and
beheld new faces everywhere, he must have felt that it
was now time for him to go whither his brethren had
gone before him."
"Were the former governors all dead and gone?"
"All of them," replied Grandfather, "Winthrop
had been dead forty years. Endicott died, a very old
man, in 1665. Sir Henry Vane was beheaded, in
London, at the beginning of the reign of Charles the
Second. And Haynes, Dudley, Bellingham, and
Leverett, who had all been governors of Massachu-
setts, were now likewise in their graves. Old Simon
Bradstreet was the sole representative of that departed
brotherhood. There was no other public man remain-
ing to connect the ancient system of government
and manners with the new system which was about
to take its place. The era of the Puritans was now
"I am sorry for it," observed Laurence; "for,
though they were so stern, yet it seems to me that
there was something warm and real about them. I
think, Grandfather, that each of these old governors
should have his statue set up in our State House,
sculptured out of the hardest of New England granite."
"It would not be amiss, Laurence," said Grand-
father; "but perhaps clay, or some other perishable
material, might suffice for some of their successors.
But let us go back to our chair. It was occupied by
Governor Bradstreet from April 1689, until May, 1692.
Sir William Phips then arrived in Boston with a new
charter from King William and a commission to be
"And what became of the chair?" inquired Clara.
"The outward aspect of our chair," replied Grand-
father, "was now somewhat the worse for its long and
arduous services. It was considered hardly magnifi-
cent enough to be allowed to keep its place in the
council chamber of Massachusetts. In fact, it was
banished as an article of useless lumber. But Sir
William Phips happened to see it, and, being much
pleased with its construction, resolved to take the good
old chair into his private mansion. Accordingly, with
his own gubernatorial hands, he repaired one of its
arms, which had been slightly damaged."
"Why, Grandfather, here is the very arm!" in-
terrupted Charley, in great wonderment. "And did
Sir William Phips put in these screws with his own
hands? I am sure he did it beautifully! But how
came a governor to know how to mend a chair? "
"I will tell you a story about the early life of Sir
William Phips," said Grandfather. "You will then
perceive that he well knew how to use his hands."
So Grandfather related the wonderful and true
THE SUNKEN TREASURE.
Picture to yourselves, my dear children, a hand-
some, old-fashioned room, with a large, open cupboard
at one end, in which is displayed a magnificent gold
cup, with some other splendid articles of gold and
silver plate. In another part of the room, opposite
to a tall looking glass, stands our beloved chair,
newly polished, and adorned with a gorgeous cushion
of crimson velvet, tufted with gold.
In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame,
whose face has been roughened by northern tempests
and blackened by the burning sun of the West Indies.
He wears an immense periwig, flowing down over his
shoulders. His coat has a wide embroidery of golden
foliage; and his waistcoat, likewise, is all flowered
over and bedizened with gold. His red, rough hands,
which have done many a good day's work with the
hammer and adze, are half covered by the delicate lace
ruffles at his wrists. On a table lies his silver-hilted
sword; and in the corner of the room stands his gold-
headed cane, made of a beautifully polished West India
Somewhat such an aspect as this did Sir William
Phips present when he sat in Grandfather's chair after
the king had appointed him governor of Massachusetts.
Truly, there was need that the old chair should be var-
nished and decorated with a crimson cushion, in order
order to make it suitable for such a magnificent look-
But Sir William Phips had not always worn a gold
embroidered coat, nor always sat so much at his ease
as he did in Grandfather's chair. He was a poor
man's son, and was born in the province of Maine,
where he used to tend sheep upon hills, in his boy-
hood and youth. Until he had grown to be a man,
he did not even know how to read and write. Tired
of tending sheep, he next apprenticed himself to a
ship-carpenter, and spent about four years in hewing
the crooked limbs of oak trees into knees for vessels.
In 1673, when he was twenty-two years old, he
came to Boston, and soon afterwards was married to
a widow lady, who had property enough to set him
up in business. It was not long, however, before he
lost all the money that he had acquired by his mar-
riage, and became a poor man again. Still, he was
not discouraged. He often told his wife that, some
time or other, he should be very rich, and would build
a fair brick house" in the green lane of Boston.
Do not suppose, children, that he had been to a
fortune-teller to inquire his destiny. It was his own
energy and spirit of enterprise, and his resolution to
lead an industrious life, that made him look forward
with so much confidence to better days.
Several years passed away; and William Phips had
not yet gained the riches which he promised to him-
self. During this time he had begun to follow the sea
for a living. In the year 1684 he happened to hear of
a Spanish ship which had been cast away near the
Bahama Islands, and which was supposed to contain a
great deal of gold and silver. Phips went to the
place in a small vessel, hoping that he should be able
JAMES II. PROCLAIMED AT BOSTON.
to recover some of the treasure from the wreck. He
did not succeed, however, in fishing up gold and silver
enough to pay the expenses of his voyage.
But, before he returned, he was told of another
Spanish ship, or galleon, which had been cast away
near Porto de la Plata. She had now lain as much as
fifty years beneath the waves. This old ship had been
laden with immense wealth; and, hitherto, nobody
had thought of the possibility of recovering any part
of it from the deep sea which was rolling and tossing
it about. But though it was now an old story, and
the most aged people had almost forgotten that such
a vessel had been wrecked, William Phips resolved
that the sunken treasure should again be brought to
He went to London and obtained admittance to
King James, who had not yet been driven from his
throne. He told the king of the vast wealth that was
lying at the bottom of the sea. King James listened
with attention, and thought this a fine opportunity to
fill his treasury with Spanish gold. He appointed
William Phips to be captain of a vessel, called the
"Rose Algier," carrying eighteen guns and ninety-five
men. So now he was Captain Phips of the English
Captain Phips sailed from England in the Rose
Algier," and cruised for nearly two years in the West
Indies, endeavoring to find the wreck of the Spanish
ship. But the sea is so wide and deep that it is no
easy matter to discover the exact spot where a sunken
vessel lies. The prospect of success seemed very
small; and most people would have thought that
Captain Phips was as far from having money enough
to build a "fair brick house" as he was while he
The seamen of the "Rose Algier" became discour-
aged, and gave up all hope of making their fortunes by
discovering the Spanish wreck. They wanted to
compel Captain Phips to turn pirate. There was a
much better prospect, they thought, of growing rich
by plundering vessels which still sailed in the sea
than by seeking for a ship that had lain beneath the
waves full half a century. They broke out in open
mutiny, but were finally mastered by Phips, and com-
pelled to obey his orders. It would have been danger-
ous, however, to continue much longer at sea with
such a crew of mutinous sailors; and, besides, the
"Rose Algier" was leaky and unseaworthy. So Cap-
tain Phips judged it best to return to England.
Before leaving the West Indies, he met with a
Spaniard, an old man, who remembered the wreck of
the Spanish ship, and gave him directions how to find
the very spot. It was on a reef of rocks, a few leagues
from Porto de la Plata.
On his arrival in England, therefore, Captain Phips
solicited the king to let him have another vessel and
send him back again to the West Indies. But King
James, who had probably expected that the Rose Al-
gier" would return laden with gold, refused to have
anything more to do with the affair. Phips might
never have been able to renew the search if the Duke
of Albemarle and some other noblemen had not lent
their assistance. They fitted out a ship, and gave the
command to Captain Phips. He sailed from England,
and arrived safely at Porto de la Plata, where he took
an adze and assisted his men to build a large boat.
The boat was intended for the purpose of going
closer to the reef of rocks than a large vessel could
safely venture. When it was finished, the captain
sent several men in it to examine the spot where the
Spanish ship was said to have been wrecked. They
were accompanied by some Indians, who were skilful
divers, and could go down a great way into the depths
of the sea.
The boat's crew proceeded to the reef of rocks, and
rowed round and round it a great many times. They
gazed down into the water, which was so transparent
that it seemed as if they could have seen the gold and
silver at the bottom, had there been any of those pre-
cious metals there. Nothing, however, could they
see; nothing more valuable than a curious sea shrub,
which was growing beneath the water, in a crevice of
the reef of rocks. It flaunted to and fro with the
swell and reflux of the waves, and looked as bright
and beautiful as if its leaves were gold.
We won't go back empty-handed," cried an Eng-
lish sailor; and then he spoke to one of the Indian
divers. "Dive down and bring me that pretty sea
shrub there. That's the only treasure we shall find '
Down plunged the diver, and soon rose dripping
from the water, holding the sea shrub in his hand.
But he had learned some news at the bottom of the sea.
There are some ship's guns," said he, the moment
JAM=s II. Olf ENOLAND.
GRANDFA THEIR 'S CHAIR.
he had drawn breath, "some great cannon, among the
rocks, near where the shrub was growing."
No sooner had he spoken than the English sailors
knew that they had found the very spot where the
Spanish galleon had been wrecked, so many years
before. The other Indian divers immediately plunged
over the boat's side and swam headlong down, groping
among the rocks and sunken cannon. In a few mo-
ments one of them rose above the water with a heavy
lump of silver in his arms. That single lump was
worth more than a thousand dollars. The sailors took
it into the boat, and then rowed back as speedily as
they could, being in haste to inform Captain Phips of
their good luck.
But, confidently as the Captain had hoped to find
the Spanish wreck, yet, now that it was really found,
the news seemed to good to be true. He could not
believe it till the sailors showed him the lump of
"Thanks be to God!" then cries Captain Phips.
"We shall every man of us make our fortunes !"
Hereupon the captain and all the crew set to work,
with iron rakes and great hooks and lines, fishing for
gold and silver at the bottom of the sea. Up came
the treasure in abundance. Now they beheld a table
of solid silver, once the property of an old Spanish
Grandee. Now they found a sacramental vessel, which
had been destined as a gift to some Catholic church.
Now they drew up a golden cup, fit for the king of
Spain to drink his wine out of. Perhaps the bony
hand of its former owner had been grasping the pre-
cious cup, and was drawn up along with it. Now
their rakes or fishing-lines were loaded with masses of
silver bullion. There were also precious stones among
the treasure, glittering and sparkling, so that it is a
wonder how their radiance could have been concealed.
There is something sad and terrible in the idea of
snatching all this wealth from the devouring ocean,
which had possessed it for such a length of years. It
seems that men have no right to make themselves rich
with it. It ought to have been left with the skeletons
of the ancient Spaniards, who had been drowned
when the ship was wrecked, and whose bones were
now scattered among the gold and silver.
But Captain Phips and his crew were troubled with
no such thoughts as these. After a day or two they
lighted on another part of the wreck, where they
found a great many bags of silver dollars. But
nobody could have guessed that these were money-
bags. By remaining so long in the salt-water, they
had become covered over with a crust which had the
appearance of stone, so that it was necessary to break
them in pieces with hammers and axes. When this
was done, a stream of silver dollars gushed out upon
the deck of the vessel.
The whole value of the recovered treasure, plate,
bullion, precious stones, and all, was estimated at more
than two millions of dollars. It was dangerous even
to look at such a vast amount of wealth. A sea cap-
tain, who had assisted Phips in the enterprise, utterly
lost his reason at the sight of it. He died two years
afterwards, still raving about the treasures that lie at
the bottom of the sea. It would have been better
for this man if he had left the skeletons of the ship-
wrecked Spaniards in quiet possession of their wealth.
Captain Phips and his men continued to fish up
plate, bullion, and dollars, as plentifully as ever, till
their provisions grew short. Then, as they could not
feed upon gold and silver any more than old King
Midas could, they found it necessary to go in search
of better sustenance. Phips resolved to return to
England. He arrived there in 1687, and was received
with great joy by the Duke of Albermarle and other
English lords who had fitted out the vessel. Well
they might rejoice; for they took by far the greater
part of the treasure to themselves.
The captain's share, however, was enough to make
him comfortable for the rest of his days. It also en-
abled him to fulfill his promise to his wife, by build-
ing a fair brick house in the Green Lane of Bos-
ton. The Duke of Albemarle sent Mrs. Phips a
magnificent gold cup, worth at least five thousand
dollars. Before Captain Phips left London, King
James made him a knight; so that, instead of the
obscure ship-carpenter who had formerly dwelt among
them, the inhabitants of Boston welcomed him on
his return as the rich and famous Sir William Phips.
"Sir William Phips," continued Grandfather,
"was too active and adventurous a man to sit still
MONK, DUKE OF AILBUMARLE.
in the quiet enjoyment of his good fortune. In the
year 1690 he went on a military expedition against
the French colonies in America, conquered the whole
province of Acadie, and returned to Boston with a
great deal of plunder.
Why, Grandfather, he was the greatest man that
ever sat in the chair !" cried Charley.
Ask Laurence what he thinks," replied Grand-
father, with a smile. "Well; in the same year, Sir
William took command of an expedition against Que-
bec, but did not succeed in capturing the city. In
1692, being then in London, King William III. ap-
pointed him governor of Massachusetts. And now,
my dear children, having followed -Sir William Phips
through all his adventures and hardships till we find
him comfortably seated in Grandfather's chair, we
will here bid him farewell. May he be as happy in
ruling a people as he was while he tended sheep "
Charley, whose fancy had been greatly taken by
the adventurous disposition of Sir William Phips, was
eager to know how he had acted and what happened
to him while he held the office of governor. But
Grandfather had made up his mind to tell no more
stories for the present.
"Possibly, one of these days, I may go on with
the adventures of the chair," said he. "But its his-
tory becomes very obscure just at this point; and I
must search into some old books and manuscripts be-
fore proceeding further. Besides, it is now a good
time to pause in our narrative; because the new char-
ter, which Sir William Phips brought over from Eng-
land, formed a very important epoch in the history of
"Really, Grandfather," observed Laurence, "this
seems to be the most remarkable chair in the world.
Its history cannot be told without intertwining it with
the lives of distinguished men and the great events
that have befallen the country."
"True, Laurence," replied Grandfather, smiling.
"We must write a book with some such title as this,
-MEMOIRS OF MY OWN TIMES, BY GRANDFATHER'S
"That would be beautiful!" exclaimed Laurence,
clapping his hands.
"But, after all," continued Grandfather, "any other
old chair, if it possessed memory and a hand to write
its recollections, could record stranger stories than
any that I have told you. From generation to
generation, a chair sits familiarly in the midst of hu-
man interests, and is witness to the most secret and
confidential intercourse that mortal man can hold with
his fellow. The human heart may best be read in the
fireside chair. And as to external events, Grief and
Joy keep a continual vicissitude around it and within
it. Now we see the glad face and glowing form of
Joy, sitting merrily in the old chair, and throwing a
warm fire-light radiance over all the household. Now,
while we thought not of it, the dark clad mourner,
Grief, has stolen into the place of Joy, but not to
retain it long. The imagination can hardly grasp so
wide a subject as is embraced in the experience of a
It makes my breath flutter,-my heart thrill,-to
think of it," said Laurence. "Yes; a family chair
must have a deeper history than a Chair of State."
0, yes !" cried Clara, expressing a woman's feel-
ing on the. point in question; "the history of a
country is not nearly so interesting as that of a single
family would be."
But the history of a country is more easily told,"
said Grandfather. "So, if we proceed with our narra-
tive of the chair, I shall still confine myself to its con-
nection with public events."
Good old Grandfather now rose and quitted the
room, while the children remained gazing at the chair.
Laurence, so vivid was his conception of past times,
would hardly have deemed it strange if its former
occupants, one after another, had resumed the seat
which they had each left vacant such a dim length of
First, the gentle and lovely lady Arbella would
have been seen in the old chair, almost sinking out of
its arms for very weakness; then Roger Williams, in
his cloak and band, earnest, energetic, and benevolent;
then the figure of Anne Hutchinson, with the like
gesture as when she presided at the assemblages of
women; then the dark, intellectual face of Vane,
"young in years, but in sage counsel old." Next
would have appeared the successive governors, Win-
throp, Dudley, Bellingham, and Endicott, who sat in
the chair while it was a Chair of State. Then its
ample seat would have been pressed by the comfort-
able, rotund corporation of the honest mint-master.
WILIIAM III., PRINCE OF ORANGE.
GRANDFA THERE'S CHAIR.
Then the half-frenzied shape of Mary Dyer, the per-
secuted Quaker woman, clad in sackcloth and ashes,
would have rested in it for a moment. Then the holy
apostolic form of Eliot would have sanctified it. Then
would have arisen, like the shade of departed Puri-
tanism, the venerable dignity of the white-bearded
Governor Bradstreet. Lastly, on the gorgeous crim-
son cushion of Grandfather's chair, would have shown
the purple and golden magnificence of Sir William
But, all these, with the other historic personages, in
the midst of whom the chair had so often stood, had
passed, both in substance and shadow, from the scene
of ages Yet here stood the chair, with the old Lin-
coln coat of arms, and the oaken flowers and foliage,
and the fierce lion's head at the summit, the whole,
apparently, in as perfect preservation as when it had
first been placed in the Earl of Lincoln's hall. And
what vast changes of society and of nations had been
wrought by sudden convulsions or by slow degrees
since that era!
"This chair had stood firm when the thrones of
kings were overthrown!" thought Laurence. "Its
oaken frame has proved stronger than many frames of
More the thoughtful and imaginative boy might
have mused; but now a large yellow cat, a great
favorite with all the children, leaped in at the open
window. Perceiving that Grandfather's chair was
empty, and having often before experienced its com-
forts, puss laid herself quietly down upon the cushion.
Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice all laughed
at the idea of such a successor to the worthies of old
"Pussy," said little Alice, putting out her hand,
into which the cat laid a velvet paw, "you look very
wise. Do tell us a story about GRANDFATHER'S