True Stories From History and Biography (4 page)

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 Grandfather took pride in any thing, it
was in being the possessor of such an honorable and historic elbow chair.

"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?" asked Charley.

"It is a long while since I took my degree, Charley. You must ask some of
the recent graduates," answered Grandfather. "As I was telling you,
President 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 Laurence.

"With Charley's permission, I will," replied Grandfather, smiling. "Let us
consider it settled, therefore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, and
Endicott, 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 governor sat in this
chair, too, whenever messages were brought to him from the chamber of
Representatives."

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 established 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. However, there was still a quiet and
natural growth. The legislature incorporated towns, and made new purchases
of lands from the Indians. A very memorable event took place in 1643. The
colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven, formed a
union, for the purpose of assisting each other in difficulties, and for
mutual defence against their enemies. They called themselves the United
Colonies of New England."

"Were they under a government like that of the United States?" inquired
Laurence.

"No," replied Grandfather, "the different colonies 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 return to our chair. In 1644 it was highly
honored; for Governor Endicott sat in it, when he gave audience to an
ambassador from the French governor of Acadie, or Nova Scotia. A treaty of
peace, between Massachusetts and the French colony, was then signed."

"Did England allow Massachusetts to make war and peace with foreign
countries?" asked Laurence.

"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 his hands full at
home, and could pay but little attention 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 loving and indulgent father to
the Puritan colonies in America."

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 sideways at that vivacious little fellow, and saw him give an
involuntary yawn. Whereupon, Grandfather proceeded with the history of the
chair, and related 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, assuredly, 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. This old gentleman, on
carefully examining the maimed 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 mended!"

When they had all sufficiently examined the broken leg, Grandfather told
them a story about Captain John Hull and

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 coinage
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 wampum, 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 of wood, instead of silver or
gold.

As the people grew more numerous, and their trade one with 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
coinage 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 buccaniers—(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 into his own pocket.

The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint-master would have the
best of the bargain. They 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 shillings. 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 himself in.

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'll 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 smallclothes were buttoned with silver threepences. Thus attired, he
sat with great dignity in Grandfather's chair; and, being a portly old
gentleman, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On the opposite
side of the room, between her bride-maids, sat Miss Betsey. She was
blushing with all her might, and looked like a full blown pæony, or a
great red apple.

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 bride-maids 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-servants, who immediately went out, and
soon returned, lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a pair as
wholesale merchants use, 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 that 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.