-Caveat Lector-
By Nathaniel Hawthorne
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Part 1
Chapter 9
THE children were now accustomed to assemble round Grandfather's chair at
all their unoccupied moments; und 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 do.
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 inquiring
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 be immortal.
But such repinings 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
mortality is apt to hang heavily over the soul, still, in his inmost being
he was conscious of something that be 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 suffered, or seen, or heard, or
acted, with the broodings of his soul upon the whole--had contributed
somewhat. 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 immortality.
So Grandfather, with renewed cheerfulness, continued 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 all
time.
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 II. on his
restoration to his father's throne. When death had stricken Oliver Cromwell,
that mighty protector had no sincerer 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.
During the reign of Charles II., however, the American colonies had but
little reason to complain 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 Roman 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 forefathers 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 llberties, 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 president of New England. But soon afterwards Sir
Edmund 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 he ruled. The
inhabitants were not allowed to choose representatives, and consequently had
no voice whatever in the government, nor control over the measures that were
adopted. The councillors with whom the governor consulted on matters of
state were appointed by himself. This sort of government was no better than
an absolute despotism.
"The people suffered much wrong while Sir Edmund Andros ruled over them,"
continued Grandfather; "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 inhabitants 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
proclaimed king, by the name of William III. 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 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
intimate 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, Charley,--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 Grandfather now sits, and of which he is telling
you the history?"
"I am glad to hear it, with all my heart!" cried Charley, after a shout of
delight. "I thought Grandfather had quite forgotten the chair."
"It was a solemn and affecting sight," said Grandfather, "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, and 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?" asked Laurence.
"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 II. And Haynes, Dudley,
Bellingham, and Leverett, who had all been governors of Massachusetts, were
now likewise in their graves. Old Simon Bradstreet was the sole
representative of that departed brotherhood. There was no other public man
remaining 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 completed."
"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 Grandfather; "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 Phipps then arrived in Boston with
a new charter from King William and a commission to be governor."
*********
http://eldred.ne.mediaone.net/nh/gc204.html
Part 2
Chapter 4
...
In this chair, from one year's end to another, sat that prodigious bookworm,
Cotton Mather, sometimes devouring a great book, and sometimes scribbling
one as big. In Grandfather's younger days there used to he a wax figure of
him in one of the Boston museums, representing a solemn, darked-visaged
person, in a minister's black gown, and with a black-letter volume before
him.
"It is difficult, my children," observed Grandfather, "to make you
understand such a character as Cotton Mather's, in whom there was so much
good, and yet so many failings and frailties. Undoubtedly he was a pious
man. Often he kept fasts; and once, for three whole days, he allowed himself
not a morsel of food, but spent the time in prayer and religious meditation.
Many a live-long night did he watch and pray. These fasts and vigils made
him meagre and haggard, and probably caused him to appear as if he hardly
belonged to the world."
"Was not the witchcraft delusion partly caused by Cotton Mather?" inquired
Laurence.
"He was the chief agent of the mischief," answered Grandfather; "but we will
not suppose that he acted otherwise than conscientiously. He believed that
there were evil spirits all about the world. Doubtless he imagined that they
were hidden in the corners and crevices of his library, and that they peeped
out from among the leaves of many of his books, as he turned them over, at
midnight. He supposed that these unlovely demons were everywhere, in the
sunshine as well as in the darkness, and that they were hidden in men's
hearts, and stole into their most secret thoughts."
Here Grandfather was interrupted by little Alice, who hid her face in his
lap, and murmured a wish that he would not talk any more about Cotton Mather
and the evil spirits. Grandfather kissed her, and told her that angels were
the only spirits whom she had anything to do with. He then spoke of the
public affairs of the period.
A new war between France and England had broken out in 1702, and had been
raging ever since. In the course of it, New England suffered much injury
from the French and Indians, who often came through the woods from Canada
and assaulted the frontier towns. Villages were sometimes burned, and the
inhabitants slaughtered, within a day's ride of Boston. The people of New
England had a bitter hatred against the French, not only for the mischief
which they did with their own hands, but because they incited the Indians to
hostility.
The New-Englanders knew that they could never dwell in security until the
provinces of France should be subdued and brought under the English
government. They frequently, in time of war, undertook military expeditions
against Acadia and Canada, and sometimes besieged the fortresses by which
those territories were defended. But the most earnest wish of their hearts
was to take Quebec, and so get possession of the whole province of Canada.
Sir William Phipps had once attempted it, but without success.
Fleets and soldiers were often sent from England to assist the colonists in
their warlike undertakings. In 1710 Port Royal, a fortress of Acadia, was
tnken by the English. The next year, in the month of June, a fleet,
commanded by Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker, arrived in Boston Harbor. On board
of this fleet was the English General Hill, with seven regiments of
soldiers, who had been fighting under the Duke of Marlborough in Flanders.
The government of Massachusetts was called upon to find provisions for the
army and fleet, and to raise more men to assist in taking Canada.
What with recruiting and drilling of soldiers, there was now nothing but
warlike bustle in the streets of Boston. The drum and fife, the rattle of
arms, and the shouts of boys were heard from morning till night. In about a
month the fleet set sail, carrying four regiments from New England and New
York, besides the English soldiers. The whole army amounted to at least
seven thousand men. They steered for the mouth of the river St. Lawrence.
"Cotton Mather prayed most fervently for their success," continued
Grandfather, "both in his pulpit and when he kneeled down in the solitude of
his library, resting his face on our old chair. But Providence ordered the
result otherwise. In a few weeks tidings were received that eight or nine of
the vessels had been wrecked in the St. Lawrence, and that above a thousand
drowned soldiers had been washed ashore on the banks of that mighty river.
After this misfortune Sir Hovenden Walker set sail for England; and many
pious people began to think it a sin even to wish for the conquest of
Canada."
"I would never give it up so," cried Charley.
"Nor did they, as we shall see," replied Grandfather. "However, no more
attempts were made during this war, which came to a close in 1713. The
people of New England were probably glad of some repose; for their young men
had been made soldiers, till many of them were fit for nothing else. And
those who remained at home had been heavily taxed to pay for the arms,
ammunition, fortifications, and all the other endless expenses of a war.
There was great need of the prayers of Cotton Mather and of all pious men,
not only on account of the sufferings of the people, but because the old
moral and religious character of New England was in danger of being utterly
lost."
"How glorious it would have been," remarked Laurence, "if our forefathers
could have kept the country unspotted with blood!"
"Yes," said Grandfather; "but there was a stern, warlike spirit in them from
the beginning. They seem never to have thought of questioning either the
morality or piety of war."
The next event which Grandfather spoke of was one that Cotton Mather, as
well as most of the other inhabitants of New England, heartily rejoiced at.
This was the accession of the Elector of Hanover to the throne of England,
in 1714, on the death of Queen Anne. Hitherto the people had been in
continual dread that the male line of the Stuarts, who were descended from
the beheaded King Charles and the banished King James, would be restored to
the throne. In that case, as the Stuart family were Roman Catholics, it was
supposed that they would attempt to establish their own religion throughout
the British dominions. But the Elector of Hanover and all his race were
Protestants; so that now the descendants of the old Puritans were relieved
from many fears and disquietudes.
"The importance of this event," observed Grandfather, "was a thousand times
greater than that of a Presidential election in our own days. If the people
dislike their President, they may get rid of him in four years; whereas a
dynasty of kings may wear the crown for an unlimited period."
The German elector was proclaimed king from the balcony of the town-house in
Boston, by the title of George I.; while the trumpets sounded, and the
people cried amen. That night the town was illuminated; and Cotton Mather
threw aside book and pen, and left Grandfather's chair vacant, while he
walked hither and thither to witness the rejoicings.
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