Read True Stories From History and Biography Online
Authors: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Tags: #General Fiction
"And I suppose," said Laurence, "there were men who knew how to act
worthily of what they felt."
"There were many such," replied Grandfather, "and we will speak of some of
them, hereafter."
Grandfather here made a pause. That night, Charley had a dream about the
Boston Massacre, and thought that he himself was in the crowd, and struck
down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence dreamed that he was
sitting in our great chair, at the window of the British Coffee House, and
beheld the whole scene which Grandfather had described. It seemed to him,
in his dream, that if the town's-people and the soldiers would but have
heard him speak a single word, all the slaughter might have been averted.
But there was such an uproar that it drowned his voice.
The next morning, the two boys went together to State Street, and stood on
the very spot where the first blood of the Revolution had been shed. The
Old State House was still there, presenting almost the same aspect that it
had worn on that memorable evening, one-and-seventy years ago. It is the
sole remaining witness of the Boston Massacre.
The next evening the astral lamp was lighted earlier than usual, because
Laurence was very much engaged in looking over the collection of portraits
which had been his New Year's gift from Grandfather.
Among them he found the features of more than one famous personage who had
been connected with the adventures of our old chair. Grandfather bade him
draw the table nearer to the fire-side; and they looked over the portraits
together, while Clara and Charley likewise lent their attention. As for
little Alice, she sat in Grandfather's lap, and seemed to see the very men
alive, whose faces were there represented.
Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the portrait of a stern,
grim-looking man, in plain attire, of much more modern fashion than that
of the old Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one of those
iron-hearted men. Beneath the portrait was the name of Samuel Adams.
"He was a man of great note in all the doings that brought about the
Revolution," said Grandfather. "His character was such, that it seemed as
if one of the ancient Puritans had been sent back to earth, to animate the
people's hearts with the same abhorrence of tyranny, that had
distinguished the earliest settlers. He was as religious as they, as stern
and inflexible, and as deeply imbued with democratic principles. He,
better than any one else, may be taken as a representative of the people
of New England, and of the spirit with which they engaged in the
revolutionary struggle. He was a poor man, and earned his bread by an
humble occupation; but with his tongue and pen, he made the king of
England tremble on his throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the
strong men of our country."
"Here is one whose looks show a very different character," observed
Laurence, turning to the portrait of John Hancock. "I should think, by his
splendid dress and courtly aspect, that he was one of the king's friends."
"There never was a greater contrast than between Samuel Adams and John
Hancock," said Grandfather. "Yet they were of the same side in politics,
and had an equal agency in the Revolution. Hancock was born to the
inheritance of the largest fortune in New England. His tastes and habits
were aristocratic. He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion,
magnificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was glittering and
pompous in external things. His manners were so polished, that there stood
not a nobleman at the footstool of King George's throne, who was a more
skilful courtier than John Hancock might have been. Nevertheless, he, in
his embroidered clothes, and Samuel Adams in his threadbare coat, wrought
together in the cause of liberty. Adams acted from pure and rigid
principle. Hancock, though he loved his country, yet thought quite as much
of his own popularity as he did of the people's rights. It is remarkable,
that these two men, so very different as I describe them, were the only
two exempted from pardon by the king's proclamation."
On the next leaf of the book, was the portrait of General Joseph Warren.
Charley recognized the name, and said that here was a greater man than
either Hancock or Adams.
"Warren was an eloquent and able patriot," replied Grandfather. "He
deserves a lasting memory for his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty. No
man's voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph Warren's. If his
death had not happened so early in the contest, he would probably have
gained a high name as a soldier."
The next portrait was a venerable man, who held his thumb under his chin,
and, through his spectacles, appeared to be attentively reading a
manuscript.
"Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that ever lived," said
Grandfather. "This is Benjamin Franklin! But I will not try to compress,
into a few sentences, the character of the sage, who, as a Frenchman
expressed it, snatched the lightning from the sky, and the sceptre from a
tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help you to the knowledge of Franklin."
The book likewise contained portraits of James Otis and Josiah Quincy.
Both of them, Grandfather observed, were men of wonderful talents and true
patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones of a trumpet,
arousing the country to defend its freedom. Heaven seemed to have provided
a greater number of eloquent men than had appeared at any other period, in
order that the people might be fully instructed as to their wrongs, and
the method of resistance.
"It is marvellous," said Grandfather, "to see how many powerful writers,
orators, and soldiers started up, just at the time when they were wanted.
There was a man for every kind of work. It is equally wonderful, that men
of such different characters were all made to unite in the one object of
establishing the freedom and independence of America. There was an
overruling Providence above them."
"Here was another great man," remarked Laurence, pointing to the portrait
of John Adams.
"Yes; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest, and most able man," said
Grandfather. "At the period of which we are now speaking, he was a lawyer
in Boston. He was destined, in after years, to be ruler over the whole
American people, whom he contributed so much to form into a nation."
Grandfather here remarked, that many a New Englander, who had passed his
boyhood and youth in obscurity, afterward attained to a fortune, which he
never could have foreseen, even in his most ambitious dreams. John Adams,
the second president of the United States, and the equal of crowned kings,
was once a schoolmaster and country lawyer. Hancock, the first signer of
the Declaration of Independence, served his apprenticeship with a
merchant. Samuel Adams, afterward governor of Massachusetts, was a small
tradesman and a tax-gatherer. General Warren was a physician, General
Lincoln a farmer, and General Knox a bookbinder. General Nathaniel Greene,
the best soldier, except Washington, in the revolutionary army, was a
Quaker and a blacksmith. All these became illustrious men, and can never
be forgotten in American history.
"And any boy, who is born in America, may look forward to the same
things," said our ambitious friend Charley.
After these observations, Grandfather drew the book of portraits towards
him, and showed the children several British peers and members of
Parliament, who had exerted themselves either for or against the rights of
America. There were the Earl of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North. These
were looked upon as deadly enemies to our country.
Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, afterward Earl of Chatham, who
spent so much of his wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England of
the consequences of her injustice. He fell down on the floor of the House
of Lords, after uttering almost his dying words in defence of our
privileges as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the wisest men and
greatest orators that ever the world produced. There was Colonel Barré,
who had been among our fathers, and knew that they had courage enough to
die for their rights. There was Charles James Fox, who never rested until
he had silenced our enemies in the House of Commons.
"It is very remarkable to observe how many of the ablest orators in the
British Parliament were favorable to America," said Grandfather. "We ought
to remember these great Englishmen with gratitude; for their speeches
encouraged our fathers, almost as much as those of our own orators, in
Faneuil Hall, and under Liberty Tree. Opinions, which might have been
received with doubt, if expressed only by a native American, were set down
as true, beyond dispute, when they came from the lips of Chatham, Burke,
Barré, or Fox."
"But, Grandfather," asked Laurence, "were there no able and eloquent men
in this country who took the part of King George?"
"There were many men of talent, who said what they could in defence of the
king's tyrannical proceedings," replied Grandfather. "But they had the
worst side of the argument, and therefore seldom said any thing worth
remembering. Moreover their hearts were faint and feeble; for they felt
that the people scorned and detested them. They had no friends, no
defence, except in the bayonets of the British troops. A blight fell upon
all their faculties, because they were contending against the rights of
their own native land."
"What were the names of some of them?" inquired Charley.
"Governor Hutchinson, Chief Justice Oliver, Judge Auchmuty, the Reverend
Mather Byles, and several other clergymen, were among the most noted
loyalists," answered Grandfather.
"I wish the people had tarred and feathered every man of them!" cried
Charley.
"That wish is very wrong, Charley," said Grandfather. "You must not think
that there was no integrity and honor, except among those who stood up for
the freedom of America. For aught I know, there was quite as much of these
qualities on one side as on the other. Do you see nothing admirable in a
faithful adherence to an unpopular cause? Can you not respect that
principle of loyalty, which made the royalists give up country, friends,
fortune, every thing, rather than be false to their king? It was a
mistaken principle; but many of them cherished it honorably, and were
martyrs to it."
"Oh, I was wrong!" said Charley, ingenuously. "And I would risk my life,
rather than one of those good old royalists should be tarred and
feathered."
"The time is now come, when we may judge fairly of them," continued
Grandfather. "Be the good and true men among them honored; for they were
as much our countrymen as the patriots were. And, thank Heaven! our
country need not be ashamed of her sons—of most of them, at least—whatever
side they took in the revolutionary contest."
Among the portraits was one of King George the Third. Little Alice clapped
her hands, and seemed pleased with the bluff good nature of his
physiognomy. But Laurence thought it strange, that a man with such a face,
indicating hardly a common share of intellect, should have had influence
enough on human affairs, to convulse the world with war. Grandfather
observed, that this poor king had always appeared to him one of the most
unfortunate persons that ever lived. He was so honest and conscientious,
that, if he had been only a private man, his life would probably have been
blameless and happy. But his was that worst of fortunes, to be placed in a
station far beyond his abilities.
"And so," said Grandfather, "his life, while he retained what intellect
Heaven had gifted him with, was one long mortification. At last, he grew
crazed with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years, the monarch of
England was confined as a madman. In his old age, too, God took away his
eyesight; so that his royal palace was nothing to him but a dark, lonesome
prison-house."
"Our old chair," resumed Grandfather, "did not now stand in the midst of a
gay circle of British officers. The troops, as I told you, had been
removed to Castle William, immediately after the Boston Massacre. Still,
however, there were many tories, custom-house officers, and Englishmen,
who used to assemble in the British Coffee House, and talk over the
affairs of the period. Matters grew worse and worse; and in 1773, the
people did a deed, which incensed the king and ministry more than any of
their former doings."
Grandfather here described the affair, which is known by the name of the
Boston Tea Party. The Americans, for some time past, had left off
importing tea, on account of the oppressive tax. The East India Company,
in London, had a large stock of tea on hand, which they had expected to
sell to the Americans, but could find no market for it. But, after a
while, the government persuaded this company of merchants to send the tea
to America.
"How odd it is," observed Clara, "that the liberties of America should
have had any thing to do with a cup of tea!"
Grandfather smiled, and proceeded with his narrative. When the people of
Boston heard that several cargoes of tea were coming across the Atlantic,
they held a great many meetings at Faneuil Hall, in the Old South church,
and under Liberty Tree. In the midst of their debates, three ships arrived
in the harbor with the tea on board. The people spent more than a
fortnight in consulting what should be done. At last, on the 16th of
December, 1773, they demanded of Governor Hutchinson, that he should
immediately send the ships back to England.
The governor replied that the ships must not leave the harbor, until the
custom-house duties upon the tea should be paid. Now, the payment of these
duties was the very thing, against which the people had set their faces;
because it was a tax, unjustly imposed upon America by the English
government. Therefore, in the dusk of the evening, as soon as Governor
Hutchinson's reply was received, an immense crowd hastened to Griffin's
Wharf, where the tea-ships lay. The place is now called Liverpool Wharf.