Part 16 (1/2)

”The chair,” proceeded Grandfather, ”was now continually occupied by some of the high tories, as the king's friends were called, who frequented the British Coffee House. Officers of the custom-house, too, which stood on the opposite side of King Street, often sat in the chair, wagging their tongues against John Hanc.o.c.k.”

”Why against him?” asked Charley.

”Because he was a great merchant, and contended against paying duties to the king,” said Grandfather.

”Well, frequently, no doubt, the officers of the British regiments, when not on duty, used to fling themselves into the arms of our venerable chair. Fancy one of them, a red nosed captain, in his scarlet uniform, playing with the hilt of his sword, and making a circle of his brother officers merry with ridiculous jokes at the expense of the poor Yankees.

And perhaps he would call for a bottle of wine, or a steaming bowl of punch, and drink confusion to all rebels.”

”Our grave old chair must have been scandalized at such scenes,” observed Laurence. ”The chair that had been the Lady Arbella's, and which the holy Apostle Eliot had consecrated.”

”It certainly was little less than sacrilege,” replied Grandfather; ”but the time was coming, when even the churches, where hallowed pastors had long preached the word of G.o.d, were to be torn down or desecrated by the British troops. Some years pa.s.sed, however, before such things were done.”

Grandfather now told his auditors, that, in 1769, Sir Francis Bernard went to England, after having been governor of Ma.s.sachusetts ten years. He was a gentleman of many good qualities, an excellent scholar, and a friend to learning. But he was naturally of an arbitrary disposition; and he had been bred at the University of Oxford, where young men were taught that the divine right of kings was the only thing to be regarded in matters of government. Such ideas were ill adapted to please the people of Ma.s.sachusetts. They rejoiced to get rid of Sir Francis Bernard, but liked his successor, Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, no better than himself.

About this period, the people were much incensed at an act, committed by a person who held an office in the custom-house. Some lads, or young men, were snow-balling his windows. He fired a musket at them and killed a poor German boy, only eleven years old. This event made a great noise in town and country, and much increased the resentment that was already felt against the servants of the crown.

”Now, children,” said Grandfather, ”I wish to make you comprehend the position of the British troops in King Street. This is the same which we now call State Street. On the south side of the town-house, or Old State House, was what military men call a court of guard, defended by two bra.s.s cannons, which pointed directly at one of the doors of the above edifice.

A large party of soldiers were always stationed in the court of guard. The custom-house stood at a little distance down King Street, nearly where the Suffolk bank now stands; and a sentinel was continually pacing before its front.”

”I shall remember this, to-morrow,” said Charley; ”and I will go to State Street, so as to see exactly where the British troops were stationed.”

”And, before long,” observed Grandfather, ”I shall have to relate an event, which made King Street sadly famous on both sides of the Atlantic.

The history of our chair will soon bring us to this melancholy business.”

Here Grandfather described the state of things, which arose from the ill-will that existed between the inhabitants and the red-coats. The old and sober part of the town's-people were very angry at the government, for sending soldiers to overawe them. But those gray-headed men were cautious, and kept their thoughts and feelings in their own b.r.e.a.s.t.s, without putting themselves in the way of the British bayonets.

The younger people, however, could hardly be kept within such prudent limits. They reddened with wrath at the very sight of a soldier, and would have been willing to come to blows with them, at any moment. For it was their opinion, that every tap of a British drum within the peninsula of Boston, was an insult to the brave old town.

”It was sometimes the case,” continued Grandfather, ”that affrays happened between such wild young men as these, and small parties of the soldiers.

No weapons had hitherto been used, except fists or cudgels. But, when men have loaded muskets in their hands, it is easy to foretell, that they will soon be turned against the bosoms of those who provoke their anger.”

”Grandfather,” said little Alice, looking fearfully into his face, ”your voice sounds as though you were going to tell us something awful!”

Chapter V

Little Alice, by her last remark, proved herself a good judge of what was expressed by the tones of Grandfather's voice. He had given the above description of the enmity between the town's-people and the soldiers, in order to prepare the minds of his auditors for a very terrible event. It was one that did more to heighten the quarrel between England and America, than any thing that had yet occurred.

Without further preface, Grandfather began the story of

THE BOSTON Ma.s.sACRE

It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset music of the British regiments was heard, as usual, throughout the town. The shrill fife and rattling drum awoke the echoes in King Street, while the last ray of suns.h.i.+ne was lingering on the cupola of the town-house. And now, all the sentinels were posted. One of them marched up and down before the custom-house, treading a short path through the snow, and longing for the time when he would be dismissed to the warm fire-side of the guard-room.

Meanwhile, Captain Preston was perhaps sitting in our great chair, before the hearth of the British Coffee House. In the course of the evening, there were two or three slight commotions, which seemed to indicate that trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men stood at the corners of the streets, or walked along the narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers, who were dismissed from duty, pa.s.sed by them, shoulder to shoulder, with the regular step which they had learned at the drill. Whenever these encounters took place, it appeared to be the object of the young men to treat the soldiers with as much incivility as possible.