Young Folks' History of Boston E-Book

Hezekiah Butterworth

• Herausgeber: Jazzybee Verlag
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 281

Beschreibung

"Young Folks' History of Boston" is one of Mr. Butterworth's best books. In addition to a most entertaining statement of the facts of the history of the "hub," from its single hermit settler of 1623 to the late 19th century, it contains a large number of stories and legends, among which we note the quaint history of St. Botolph, founder of " Old" Boston in England,the story of "Leif and Thorwold," the Norwegian explorers, "Dorothy Hancock's Reception," " The Sad King," and several poems.

Leseprobe

Young Folks' History of Boston

HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH

Young Folks' History of Boston, H. Butterworth

Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck

86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9

Deutschland

ISBN: 9783849651305

www.jazzybee-verlag.de

[email protected]

CONTENTS:

PREFACE.1

CHAPTER I.2

CHAPTER II.6

CHAPTER III.8

CHAPTER IV.10

CHAPTER V.13

CHAPTER VI.21

CHAPTER VII.27

CHAPTER VIII.36

CHAPTER IX.39

CHAPTER X.46

CHAPTER XI.51

CHAPTER XII.55

CHAPTER XIII.69

CHAPTER XIV.72

CHAPTER XV.82

CHAPTER XVI.86

CHAPTER XVII.93

CHAPTER XVIII.97

CHAPTER XIX.107

CHAPTER XX.114

CHAPTER XXI.124

CHAPTER XXII.141

PREFACE.

Some ten years ago the writer of this volume came to Boston, a stranger, for the purpose of reading in the Public Library and obtaining work as a journalist. Becoming deeply interested in works of local history, especially in those of Drake, and being unacquainted with society, he resolved to visit all the old historic places in and about Boston, in hours needed for exercise, and to study their associations.

About a year ago the publishers asked him to prepare a young people's history of Boston, and to seek to make it popular and entertaining, after the methods of the "Zigzag" books. It was a pleasure to attempt this work, as it revived the memories of the solitary walks ten years ago, and brought into use the material then collected.

This book does not seek to follow the common historic methods, but to be as entertaining as possible while imparting information. The elaborate works of Drake, Shurtleff, Quincy, and the noble "Memorial History" fully cover the subject for the scholar and the adult reader of means and leisure, but hardly meet the wants of popular reading and the young. Hence stories, incidents, poems, and pictures have been freely used. We hope that the reading of this volume may at least create an interest for the study of the larger works we have named, and tend to develop that honest pride in our local history which is essential to the best citizenship.

28 Worcester Street.

CHAPTER I.

 

WHEREIN IS GIVEN SOME ACCOUNT OF ST. BOTOLPH.

If you will look at the map of England, you will see on the right hand the great maritime county of Lincolnshire.

Its shores are washed by the North Sea. The coast from the. river Humber to the Wash is low, and embankments are built as a protection against the stormy tides.

It is a district of wonderful fertility, bountiful gardens, luxuriant meadows, and rich grazing-lands, whereon are seen the finest horses and cattle of England. The people here from the time of the Norman Conquest have been remarkable for their intelligence and heroic and independent spirit.

The Wesleys lived here, and most of the leaders of the Massachusetts Bay Colony came from this place.

The capitol of the county is Lincoln, famous for its beautiful cathedral, which has three great towers, one of which is three hundred feet high. The celebrated old bell, "Tom of Lincoln," once rang sweetly from one of the towers.

The coast is very dangerous, and in early times a good abbot who befriended people in peril became a patron saint. This benefactor was St. Botolph. He was the good abbot of Ikanho, (Ancient name of Boston., the editor) and became very favorably known for his pious and benevolent deeds about the year 655.

The name Botolph or Botulph is made up of two Saxon words, boat and ulph, meaning boat help, an inspiring sound to storm-tossed mariners. One of the churches in Aldersgate, London, was dedicated to this saint, also a church at Colchester, the ruins of which are now seen.

After a life of beneficence in the rude times when Christianity was being established in England, the "holy man" died, and his remains were entombed in St. Edmund's Monastery, Bury.

The abbot was so good in his life that it was supposed that his remains would be of equally good influence after he was entombed.

We have a curious story to tell you about this founder of Old Boston, whose piety and charity gave the name to our city.

There were dry seasons at Bury. The wells became low, the lowing of cattle for water was heard in the pastures, the gardens withered, the fields turned brown. At these dry seasons the people called upon the monks to do something to bring rain.

What could the poor monks do?

The monks of St. Edmund's Monastery remembered the sanctity of St. Botolph. They resolved to take his coffin from the tomb and carry it about the streets in a procession, and see if that would not bring rain.

The pious experiment was entirely successful: rain came, and so the saint was even more highly esteemed than before his decease, and whenever it began to be a little dry the monks of Bury in early times would carry about the streets, in a long, dark procession, the coffin of good St. Botolph.

There must have been occasions when the clouds did not promptly respond to the attractions of the good saint's bones, and possibly in some such way the relics lost credit. We cannot tell. St. Botolph has been allowed to rest in peace for a thousand years. Whatever we may think now of the influence of the ceremony in bringing rain, we cannot but respect the faith in God and in the power of a pious and benevolent character that underlay the pleasant fancy, for it was this confidence that made men morally strong in Saxon times, and helped our ancestors to be what they were in a more enlightened age.

"The History and Antiquities of Boston" (England), by Pishey Thompson, published in 1856, a copy of which may be found in Harvard College Library, contains long extracts from the Chronicles of John of Tynemouth, in which are given many beautiful incidents of the life of St. Botolph.

John of Tynemouth was rector of St. Botolph's Church, Boston, in 1518.

Mr. Thompson, in his History of Boston, thus speaks of the saint: —.

"St. Botulph and his brother, St. Adulph, flourished about the middle of the seventh century. They were of noble family, and were sent very young into Belgic France, where, according to the testimony of Bede, our ancestors in those days usually sent their children to be educated. The brothers Botulph and Adulph, having been initiated in the discipline and austerity of a monastic life, took the religious habit, and became famous for their learning, zeal, and spiritual labors. The fame of St. Adulph having reached the French king, he was by that monarch exalted to the government of the church of Maestricht in Belgium, the duties of which station he filled with such ability as to attract the most unqualified eulogies of the writers of his time."

The Chronicles of John of Tynemouth thus continue the story: — "But the blessed father Botulph was disposed to return to Britain. Now there were in the same monastery in which he was staying two sisters of Ethelmund, King of the East Angles (having been sent thither for the sake of the monastic discipline), who, understanding that the blessed man was wishing to return to his own country, impose upon him certain commands to be carried to the king, their brother.

Having passed over the sea, he is honorably entertained by the king, who, having heard the pious petitions of his own sisters that he should grant Botulph a piece of ground to build a monastery for the love of the divine reward, he gave his kind consent. . . . The venerable father chose a certain uncultivated place, deserted by man, called Ykanho."

The story is a charming one, and goes on -with an innocence truly Herodotean: — "Now that region was as much forsaken by man as it was possessed by demons, whose fantastic illusion by the coming of the holy man was to be immediately put to flight, and the pious conversation of the faithful substituted in its place, so that where up to that time the deceit of the devil had abounded, the grace of our beneficent founder should more abound. Upon the entry, therefore, of the blessed Botulph, the blackest smoke arises, and the enemy, knowing that his own flight was at hand, cries out, with horrid clamor, saying: 'This place which we have inhabited for a long time we thought to inhabit forever. Why, O Botulph, most cruel stranger, dost thou try to drive us from these seats? In nothing have we offended you, in nothing have we disturbed your right, what do you seek in our expulsion? What do you wish to establish in this region of ours? After being driven out of every corner in the world, do you expel us wretched beings even out of this solitude?'"

But the blessed St. Botolph was not to be entreated by evil spirits. He made the sign of the cross, and addressed them heroically, and put them all to flight, — a scene worthy of a painter.

The Chronicles give a series of charming incidents illustrating the humility of the saint, his beautiful sympathies, and harmony of character.

Say the Chronicles, in regard to the time of his decease: — "At last, when God called, he was delivered from the prison of the body on the 15th of the kalends of June, a. d. 680, and is buried in the same monastery which he had erected." Of the stories of miracles performed at his tomb, here is a beautiful one from the Chronicles, which, if it were true, would indicate that saints have a care for their bodies after death: — "In the time of Edgar (959-975), St. Ethelwold, the repairer of monasteries, obtained leave of the king to transfer the bodies of saints from the places and monasteries destroyed by the pagans, to the monasteries erected in his own time.

"Now the Monastery of Ykanho (Ikanhoe-Boston) had been left destitute as an abode of monks, and destroyed by the persecutors of St. Edmund, the king, but it was by no means deserted by the devotion of the faithful. The place known to the inhabitants was held in great reverence, but it was saved in the divine offices of a single priest.

"Now when a certain monk, with many others at the command of St. Ethelwold, had come to the tomb of St. Botulph, and had collected his precious bones and wrapped them in fine linen, and, having raised them on their shoulders, were endeavoring to carry them away, they are fixed with so great a weight that by no effort can they move a step.

"The cloisters of the altar resound with a loud noise, as if to intimate the teaching of God's grace.

"The monk aforesaid recollects of the things he has heard, that the blessed Adulph, the bishop, was buried with his brother.

"They raised this brother's body out of the earth; they then were relieved of the weight, and carried both bodies with them to St. Ethelwold, rejoicing.

"He assigned the head of St. Botulph to the monastery of Ely, but reserved for himself and his cabinet of royal relics a portion of the rest of his body; and what was left he conceded to the Church of Thorney, together with the body of the blessed Adulph."

The accounts of St. Botolph (or Botulph) are as beautiful as fairy stories, and would be a pleasing subject for a more extended article than we give here. My readers, I am sure, will be pleased to know that Boston received its name from one so greatly beloved and esteemed.

"Though ages long have passed

Since our fathers left their home,

Their pilot in the blast,

O'er untraveled seas to roam, —

Yet lives the blood of

England in our veins!

And shall we not proclaim

That blood of honest fame,

Which no tyranny can tame

By its chains?

"While the language, free and bold,

Which the bard of Avon sung,

In which our Milton told

How the vault of heaven rung,

When Satan, blasted, fell with all his host;

While this, with reverence meet,

Ten thousand echoes greet,

From rock to rock repeat

Round our coast;

"While the manners, while the arts,

That mold a nation's soul,

Still cling around our hearts,

Between let ocean roll,

Our joint communion breaking with the sun;

Yet, still, from either beach,

The voice of blood shall reach,

More audible than speech,

'We are One!'"

Washington Allston

CHAPTER II.

 

WHEREIN IS GIVEN SOME ACCOUNT OF ST. BOTOLPH'S CHURCH, IN LINCOLNSHIRE.

The city of Boston was founded by gentlemen; not sons of a decayed aristocracy; not persons using wealth to gain wealth; not adventurers in search of gold; not romantic dreamers in quest of a fountain that would restore to them their lost youth. It was indeed founded by gentlemen of wealth, but they were men who turned their backs on luxury for moral principle and peace of soul.

The American traveler who reaches Liverpool in an Atlantic steamer may take the Manchester, Lincoln, and Sheffield Railway, and in a few hours find himself in the town of Boston, from which the founders of our Boston came.

The borough resembles Holland in many respects. Here red-tiled roofs, like those of Rotterdam, are seen; and quaint gables and small windows. Dutch-looking vessels lie in the harbor. It contains about fifteen thousand inhabitants. St. Botolph's Church is its principal architectural ornament.

Our Boston contains nearly four hundred thousand inhabitants and two hundred churches. Old Boston is proud of her daughter, and the traders love to speak of her on market days. She has a right to be proud, for the daughter grew strong by following the instructions of a wise and worthy mother.

The ancient name of Old Boston was Ikanho, or Icanhoe.

St. Botolph was abbot of Ikanho. America has named her towns and public buildings for nearly all the interesting places in the Old World mentioned in history, song, and fable, but Ikanho does not appear among them.

The town is situated on the river Wytham. The church was begun in 1309. Its tower, which can be seen forty miles at sea, is three hundred feet high.

This tower was anciently used as a lighthouse. For hundreds of years the sailors on the North Sea saw it blazing over the coast, and blessed the memory of St. Botolph.

The old church, as tested by the funeral services of the Princess Charlotte, would hold more people than any single church in New Boston. Five thousand people assembled there on the occasion of the memorial service for the princess.

Here John Cotton, vicar of Boston, preached twenty years. Here Isaac Johnson and Lady Arbella listened to his fervid preaching.

John Cotton was born in the town of Derby, 1585. His father was a lawyer. He was graduated at Trinity College.

He was descended from noble families, and received the most thorough training for whatever duty he should be called to fulfil.

He was one of the independent spirits who refused to conform to the ritual imposed upon the Church by Archbishop Laud. He regarded the ritual as superstition, and he appealed to the Bishop of Lincoln and Earl of Dorset to protect him from persecution. He pleaded his unselfish and blameless life. The Earl of Dorset told him that "if his crime had been drunkenness or uncleanness or any lesser fault," he could be pardoned; but non-conformity could not be overlooked. He advised him to fly. Charles I. was on the throne at this time. Archbishop Laud was filling the English gaols with Non-conformists. Cotton would not discrown his manhood by yielding to what he believed to be wrong; he therefore fled from Old Boston to found a new church " in the wilderness."

The people used to say, "The old lantern in St. Botolph's Church went out for ever when Cotton left the town."

But the lamp of religious freedom that was kindled in St. Botolph's shines to-day in thousands of sanctuaries whose influence fills the Western world!

Some years ago Edward Everett and a number of liberal American people restored a chapel of St. Botolph's Church, at a cost of about three thousand dollars, and placed in it a tablet, with an inscription in Latin by Mr. Everett, to the memory of John Cotton.

CHAPTER III.

 

WHEREIN IS GIVEN AN ACCOUNT OF WILLIAM BLACKSTONE, A RECLUSE, WHO WAS THE FIRST SETTLER OF BOSTON.

This picture does not bear much resemblance to the houses on Beacon Street, to the Hotels Brunswick or Vendome.

It looks small indeed as compared with the new Post Office or City Hall, yet it was the first house ever built in Boston.

The house stood on the west side of Beacon Hill, and a lovely situation it must have been in summer time, looking out upon the forests on the river Charles, the harbor, and the pine-shadowed hills of the Mystic. There were very pure springs of water here, one near the place where is now Louisburg Square, another where is now Spring Lane.

Its sole inhabitant was William Blackstone. He was a hermit, or at least he loved solitude better than society. He was a royalist, a firm Episcopalian, and believed, as did King Charles and Archbishop Laud, in the divine right of kings to rule, without any parliaments to vex them or share the responsibility. He did not like the Puritans, their principles, or ways, but he was still a very kind-hearted and benevolent man, as you shall presently be told.

He was a graduate of Emanuel College, Cambridge.

Nearly all of the first settlers of Boston had received a collegiate education. He began life as an Episcopal clergyman.

He came to America soon after the Pilgrims, and settled at Shawmut, as Boston was then called, in 1623. Here he lived in seclusion, having only Indians for neighbors, for nearly seven years. He was at this period between thirty and forty years of age.

A part of the emigrants who came to Salem formed a settlement at Charlestown.

Shawmut, now Boston, then presented the appearance of three high hills. The settlers at Charlestown called it Trimountain.

In the summer of 1630, a great sickness broke out among the settlers at Salem and Charlestown. Many died. The sickness was attributed to unwholesome water.

When William Blackstone heard of the distress, he invited Winslow and his friends to remove to Boston, telling them how pure and healthful were the springs at that place. The invitation was accepted, and settlers from Salem and Charlestown began to build around the three pleasant hills.

But William Blackstone did not like his new neighbors, whom he had so cordially invited to the healthful springs in their distress. He was so ungracious as to sneer at them as "my lord neighbors," and he sold all his land to them, except six acres, and removed again into the wilderness in 1633. He settled at Rehoboth, Rhode Island. Blackstone River received its name from this pioneer.

The Common was a part of Mr. Blackstone's farm, and Washington Street and Tremont Street are said to follow "the windings of William Blackstone's cow." We could readily believe this even were it not further stated that the new dwellings were erected upon the paths through the woods made by Blackstone in his journeys about his farm.

The cow must have picked out easy paths, without much regard to directness. She did not know what illustrious people would follow her ways.

The six-acre lot that Mr. Blackstone reserved extended from the top of Beacon Hill to the Charles River. Beacon Street and Mt. Vernon Street run through the place now.

Upon it what eminent people have lived! Copley, Phillips (the first mayor), Harrison Gray Otis, Channing, John Hancock, Prescott, Motley, Parkman, and others of equal or nearly equal eminence.

Mr. Blackstone married late in life. He died at Cumberland, Rhode Island, in May, 1675, aged about eighty years.

He was always a lover of solitude, and this taste led him to Shawmut.

The settlements on the Charles River were Arcadias in comparison with other places. The Indians were friendly, and never stained the peaceful banks with white people's blood. The colonists were generally exempt from sickness, famine, or any great calamities. Thus the settlements grew, stretching away along the banks of the winding river, that led them ever on to fertile fields and happy homes.

CHAPTER IV.

WHEREIN IS CONTAINED THE STORY

OF LADY ARBELLA JOHNSON.

Those were dark times in England when good George Herbert, the gentle prophet, wrote: — "Religion stands on tiptoe in our land, Ready to pass to the American strand."

Charles I. was entering upon a course of tyranny that brought him to the block. Illegal taxes were imposed upon the people. Laud ruled the Church with a rod of iron, and thought it heresy for any man to think differently from the king and himself. The king dissolved the Parliament, and announced his intention of ruling without one. The Star Chamber made personal liberty and private rights everywhere unsafe: Injustice prevailed in the Court, in the Church, everywhere. Men even feared to call upon God for help.

The Puritan churches, or Dissenters, as those who differed from the Established Church were called, were persecuted on every hand.

"The Church hath no place left to fly into but the wilderness," said good John Winthrop; and into the wilderness John Winthrop, and some of the noblest and most heroic men and women of England, determined to fly, and to dare any danger rather than violate the principles of their faith.

They engaged a ship to take them to New England. It was called the Eagle.

"Let us name it the Arbella," said one of these Christian pioneers, "for we have with us the daughter of an earl."

The daughter of the earl was Lady Arbella Johnson.

Her father was Thomas, the third Earl of Lincoln. She was a woman of great strength and beauty of character.

Mather says, "She took New England on her way to heaven."

She had married Isaac Johnson, a gentleman of wealth, the owner of landed estates in the counties of Rutland, Northampton, and Lincoln.

Lady Arbella's pastor was good John Cotton, of St. Botolph's Church, Boston. Mr. Johnson had been led to the exercise of strong faith in God by the influence of this Dissenting minister. Just before leaving England he made a will in which he remembered his pastor as one from whom he had received "much help and comfort in his spiritual state."

This gentleman was indignant at the oppression and injustice that he saw his church suffering, and was one of those resolute men who were willing to sacrifice luxury and ease for religious freedom.

The Lady Arbella joined him in his views and purpose.

She went, according to Hubbard, " from a paradise of plenty and pleasure, which she enjoyed in the family of a noble earldom, into a wilderness of wants." She left England in April, 1630.

The ship Arbella led the way of a great emigration to New England. Ten other ships followed, among them the Mayflower that had brought the Pilgrims to Plymouth.

And now the Arbella is upon the sea. The storms of spring toss her about like a thing of air. Storm succeeds storm, and the voyage is slow. But a high purpose inspires the company amid all the perils. The colonists pray, sing, read the word of God, and encourage each other with pious conversation.

John Winthrop is among them, who has sold the estate of his forefathers, and is going forth over the waters to plant a free church "in the wilderness." He has the king's charter in his keeping. He is a person of grave but benevolent countenance; he dresses in black, with a broad ruff around his neck, when on land, and he makes a very handsome picture, which we present to the reader.

Sir Richard Saltonstall is also here, one of the first five projectors of the new colony.

It was the month of June when the Arbella sailed into the harbor of Salem.

In 1626 Peter Palfrey, Roger Conant, and one or two other gentlemen settled in Salem. In 1628 they were joined by John Endicott and a small company, and thus a plantation was begun at the place.

There were six or eight dwellings in the town when the Arbella arrived. The new land must have looked cheerful to the sea-weary colonists, for it was clothed with the verdure of summer time, and the days were the longest and fairest of the year.

Lady Arbella, looking very pale and feeling very much exhausted, becomes the guest of John Endicott. Some of the company go away to form a settlement at Charlestown.

Her husband makes a journey to Boston with Governor Winthrop and others. He thinks the three green hills overlooking the sheltered harbor very lovely, and he decides that he will there make his abode and provide a home for his beautiful wife.

He began to prepare the ground where the Court House stands to-day, near the City Hall. The lot he selected extended to where King's Chapel now lifts its low tower, and reminds all who pass of the generations that are gone.

He marked it out, dreamed bright dreams of the future, and returned to Salem to tell Lady Arbella what a lovely spot he had found.

He returned on foot, through the summer forests that stretched away from the blue harbor.

When he arrived at Salem he found Lady Arbella suddenly reduced to the mere shadow of a woman; he saw that she was not long for this world, and his heart sank within him.

The settlers shook their heads and said, "The Lady Arbella will not be with us long. We will make her life as happy as we can."

She looked out upon the new settlement, and saw the men at work on their houses; she saw at times dusky forms in paint and feathers come to the town. She heard the settlers talk of their plans for the future, but she felt that she would not long enjoy the sight of the pleasant harbors and green forests, but would soon be at rest.

And so it was. She was after a little time unable to sit up in her chair, and in about one month from the time of the landing she died.

They made her a grave amid the oaks and pines. The city of Salem sprang into life around it, and at last, after two hundred years, they have erected a stone church on the spot.

Her husband returned to Boston a broken-hearted man.

He, too, began to waste away. He lived but a few weeks after the death of Lady Arbella.

"Bury me," he said, " in the spot I had marked out for our house."

They did so. His was the first grave in the field that is now known as King's Chapel Burying-ground.

In July the Arbella, the admiral of the little fleet, a vessel of three hundred and fifty tons, manned with fifty-two seamen, and furnished with twenty-eight pieces of ordnance, dropped anchor in Boston harbor, accompanied by the Talbot, the vice-admiral, and the Jewell, the captain of the fleet.

These were probably the vessels into which Lieutenant Governor Dudley says "we unshipped our goods, and with much cost and labor brought them in July to Charles Towne."

CHAPTER V.

 

WHEREIN ARE RELATED SOME INCIDENTS OF THE LIFE OF GOVERNOR JOHN WINTHROP, THE FOUNDER OF BOSTON.

The traveler in England, who goes down to Groton, in the county of Suffolk, in summer, will there see an ancient, fortress-like church, standing serenely in the sun, and overlooking a quiet landscape of matchless verdure. Close to the church, under the windows as it were, may be seen the old tomb where rest the remains of the Winthrop family.

In this dreamy old town Governor John Winthrop was born on the 22nd of January, 1588.

Few of my readers will ever go to Groton, England, to see the old tomb of the Winthrops, but nearly all may go to King's Chapel Burying-ground and there see the tomb where Governor John Winthrop, one of the most noble men and certainly the most useful member of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, sleeps. The slender trees shade it, the sun pencils it lightly in summer through the green leaves, beyond it busy men are seen going to and coming from the City Hall.

Governor John Winthrop was the founder of Boston.

He was educated at Cambridge, England, in Trinity College.

He was elected governor by the Massachusetts Bay Company of London. He sailed in the Arbella, as we have told you, and he brought the charter of Massachusetts with him.

He landed at Salem, removed to Charlestown, and thence to Boston, and was twelve times re-elected governor of the Colony, and three times chosen deputy-governor.

His residence was on Washington Street, just opposite the foot of School Street; the Old South Church stands on the ground that was a part of his garden. There was a natural spring of water nearby, cool and very healthful. This spring gave the name to a once famous, but now almost neglected street, called Spring Lane.

In his youth he was the subject of a somewhat remarkable religious experience, which formed his views and directed his aims for life. We will give you a glance at this powerful change, as it will show you what kind of men the Puritans were, and how firmly they believed themselves led and inspired by the Spirit of God: — "I began," he says, "to come under strong exercises of conscience. I could no longer dally with religion. God put my soul to sad tasks sometimes, which yet the flesh would shake off and outwear still. Notwithstanding all my stubbornness and kind rejections of mercy, He left me not till He had overcome my heart to give itself up to Him and to bid farewell to all the world.

"Now came I to some peace and comfort in God. I loved a Christian and the very ground he went upon.

I honored a faithful minister in my heart, and could have kissed his feet. I could not miss a sermon, though many miles away."

In his journal, passing over a period of many years, he has left an account of his inward struggle with besetting sins.

He was one of the most blameless of men, but one would suppose from this account that he was a most dreadful evildoer. When he was about thirty years of age he was taken very sick. During this sickness he gained that experience of faith which every Puritan believed essential to a Christian life.

He says: — "The good Spirit of the Lord breathed upon my soul and said I should live. Now could my soul close with Christ and rest there in sweet content, so ravished with his love, as I desired nothing and feared nothing, but was filled with joy unspeakable and glorious, and with the spirit of adoption."

This language reads like that of an ancient prophet. We might quote pages of similar narrative as simple and sublime.

But these pictures will show you the kind of man the father of our city was. You may perhaps look with more veneration on the bronze statue in Scollay Square, after getting this view of his inner life.

But it was the stern battles of his public career that history most records. The journal of his life in Boston lies before me; it reads like a long story; we hope our young friends may read it. Here is an extract of the events of a single week, written soon after his arrival at Salem: —

"Thursday, July 1 (1630). The Mayflower and the Whale arrived safe in Charlton (Charlestown) harbor. Their passengers were all in health, but most of their cattle dead.

"Friday, 2nd. The Talbot arrived there. She had lost fourteen passengers.

"My son, Henry Winthrop, was drowned at Salem.

"Saturday, 3rd. The Hopewell and William and Francis arrived.

"Monday, 5th. The Trial arrived at Charlton, and the Charles at Salem.

"Tuesday, 6th. The Success arrived.

"Wednesday, 7th. The Lion went back to Salem.

"Thursday, 8th. We kept a day of Thanksgiving in all plantations."

What heroic modesty appears in this simple journal: "My son, Henry Winthrop, was drowned at Salem." He would have considered it selfish to have said more of his boy.

Were there not stricken hearts all around him? What were his griefs more than another's! Yet this son was a most interesting and promising young man, and beloved by all the colonists.

This journal of a week shows also how rapidly emigrants began to arrive. These emigrants had, intended to settle in one place. But this was not so to be. "We were forced," says Deputy-Governor Dudley, in a letter to the Countess of Lincoln, "to change counsel, and for our present shelter to plant dispersedly; some at Charlestown, which standeth on the north side of the mouth of Charles River; some on the south side thereof, which place we named Boston, as we intended to have done the place we first resolved on; some of us upon the Mistick, which we named Medford; some of us westward on Charles River, which place we called Watertown; others of us two miles from Boston in a place we named Roxbury, and the western men four miles south from Boston, at a place we called Dorchester."

Cambridge, which included within its limits the territory where are the present towns of Brighton, Newton, Arlington, Lexington, Bradford, and Billerica, had its beginning in an agreement between Governor Winthrop and his assistants to build a protected town for the seat of government between Roxbury and Boston. The location proved unsuitable, and they finally determined to build "at a place a mile east of Watertown, on the Charles River." Here Cambridge was founded in 1631. Deputy Governor Dudley and his son-in-law, Bradstreet, were the first inhabitants. Governor Winthrop built a house there, but was called by duty to Boston.

For this, Dudley, who was a fiery-minded man, accused him of violating his promise, and called him many hard names, which caused Winthrop much sorrow.

Governor Winthrop's settlement in Boston rapidly grew, and drew to it some of the ablest men that came to New England at the beginning of the great emigration. A church was formed, and John Wilson, a saintly man, became the first pastor. It was called the First Church. The simple covenant of this church is now inscribed on one of the windows of the First Church on the Back Bay. You may like to go and see it someday.

Mr. Wilson preached at times in private houses and under the boughs of great trees. A meeting-house was at last erected. Here is a picture of it.

Should you go to the Back Bay to see the covenant of the First Church, look around you upon the splendid edifices of religion, art, and education that rise on every hand, then think of this picture, and of good Mr. Wilson preaching under the trees.

The new colonists decided that Boston would be the most appropriate place to hold public meetings and the General Court. Of course, Mr. Dudley thought it should be Cambridge, and he became very angry over the decision and said more hard things about Governor Winthrop.

We have given you some incidents of Winthrop's religious feelings, let us now give you a few anecdotes of his conduct under severe trial. Dudley once wrote him a hard, insulting letter. He returned it calmly, saying: — "I am not willing to keep such an occasion of provocation by me." Afterwards, when Winthrop did Dudley a great kindness, the latter gracefully said: — "Your overcoming yourself hath overcome me."

The two men were reconciled at last. We will tell you one of the ways by which it was brought about. It reads like a passage from the ancient Scriptures. Says the chronicler: — "The Governor and Deputy-Governor went down to Concord to view some lands for farms.