Martha Finley

There were several more souvenirs of the Revolution shown the young people by Captain Raymond that morning,—among them Boston's "Liberty Tree," or rather the sculptured representation of it set within a niche on the front of a house, and exactly over the spot on which the tree stood before its destruction by the British during the siege of Boston.

"It was under that tree the association calling themselves 'Sons of Liberty' used to hold their meetings," he said. "They met there in the summer of 1765 when there was a great excitement over the passage of the Stamp Act by the British Parliament, and continued to do so until the destruction of the tree by the British during the siege of Boston, 1775. It was called 'Liberty Tree' and the ground under it 'Liberty Hall.'

"A newspaper of that time, the 'Essex Gazette,' of Aug. 31st, 1775, describes the destruction of the tree. It says, 'They made a furious attack upon it and after a long spell of laughing, grinning, sweating and foaming with malice diabolical they cut down the tree because it bore the name of Liberty. A soldier was killed by falling from one of its branches during the operation.'"

It was dinner time when our party reached the hotel, where they had left Grandma Elsie and Violet with the little ones and their maids. The ladies had not cared to join in the morning's excursion as they wanted to do a little shopping, and had already seen Concord, Lexington, and the places of historical interest in the city itself.

But Bunker Hill was to be visited that afternoon, and from that little trip neither lady asked to be excused. They all went together, starting directly after leaving the table.

Every one greatly enjoyed the view from the top of the monument: it was like a vast painting, showing them the city of Boston with its harbour, where could be seen vessels from almost every part of the world, and the many towns and villages in its vicinity, each with its own story of its struggles for liberty in "the days that tried men's souls." Far in the northwest the higher peaks of New Hampshire's White Mountains were visible: on the northeast they could discern the peninsula of Nahant, while still farther in the distance was Cape Ann.

The Captain gave them a brief account of the erection of the monument.

"It was not till 1824 that a movement was made to that end," he said. "General La Fayette was at the time the nation's guest, and was invited to lay the corner-stone, which he did on the 17th of June, 1825, the fiftieth anniversary of the battle.

"The Hon. Daniel Webster made an oration on the subject to an immense crowd which had gathered for the occasion. There were forty of the survivors of the battle present, and probably La Fayette met more of his fellow-soldiers of that war then than at any other time or place."

"Was it finished in that year, Papa?" asked Lulu.

"No, indeed, my child; not for seventeen years. The last stone was raised about six o'clock on the morning of the 23d of July, 1842, and with it—waving the American Flag as he went up—was Mr. Edward Carnes, Jr., of Charlestown, the roar of cannon at the same time announcing the event to the surrounding country."

"But that wasn't the anniversary of the battle?" remarked Rosie, in a tone of inquiry.

"No," the Captain said; "but on the next anniversary,—June 17th, 1843,—the monument was dedicated. Daniel Webster was the orator on that occasion also, addressing a vast audience composed of citizens and soldiers."

"Oh, how I would have liked to hear his speech, if only he could have waited till I was in this world and old enough to understand what he was talking about!" exclaimed Rosie.

A remark which called forth a good-humoured laugh from her hearers.

"Now, Papa, the next thing is to tell us about the battle of Bunker Hill,—isn't it?" Lulu said with a bright, coaxing look up into his face.

"I suppose so," he replied, with an indulgent smile. "But first let us look at these cannon,—the 'Hancock' and the 'Adams;' you will readily understand for whom they were named. They belonged formerly to the Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company. This one—the 'Adams'—you see is not sound; it was burst in firing a salute. You also see that they bear an inscription, which I shall read aloud for the benefit of the company:—

"Sacred to Liberty. This is one of four cannons which constituted the whole train of field-artillery possessed by the British colonies of North America at the commencement of the war, on the nineteenth of April, 1775. This cannon and its fellow, belonging to a number of citizens of Boston, were used in many engagements during the war. The other two, the property of the government of Massachusetts, were taken by the enemy. By order of the United States in Congress assembled, May nineteenth, 1788."

"What strong faith in God and the righteousness of their cause they must have had, to begin a war with Great Britain with only four cannon in their possession!" remarked Grandma Elsie.

"Yes," responded the Captain; "and it was by His good help that they conquered in spite of the seemingly insurmountable obstacles in their way. It was a fearful struggle, but with God and the armies of heaven on their side they could not fail.

"The events of that ever-memorable 19th of April were speedily heralded over the whole land, from the scenes of their occurrence down to South Carolina and Georgia, west to the first settlers of Kentucky, and north to Montreal and Quebec.

"It electrified its hearers, and with one impulse they of the colonies—soon to become States—sprang to arms. As Bancroft says, 'With one spirit they pledged themselves to each other to be ready for the extreme event.' With one heart the continent cried, 'Liberty or death!'

"The Massachusetts Committee of Safety sent a circular to the several towns of that State, conjuring them to encourage enlistments by every means in their power, and send the troops forward to headquarters at Cambridge with the expedition that the urgency and importance of the affair demanded. But the people had not waited for the call.

"Hearing of the slaughter of their brethren, men snatched their firelocks from the walls and rushed to the camp, often with scarcely any preparation, some of them with almost no provision, no money in their pockets, and only the clothes on their backs. They were hastening to the defence of their country and their endangered brethren.

"So Boston was besieged; Prescott of Pepperell and his Middlesex minute-men kept watch over the entrance to that city. Gage was forced to fortify the town at all points, while the Americans talked of driving him and his troops into the sea.

"New Hampshire sent men under the command of John Stark, a noble fellow well known as brave, fearless, and worthy of all confidence.

"Israel Putnam was another, who, hearing the cry from Lexington, which reached him on the morning after the battle, while he was helping his hired men to build a stone wall on his farm, hurried thither without waiting to so much as change the check shirt he was wearing in the field; though first he roused the militia officers of the nearest towns.

"He reached Cambridge by sunrise the next morning, having ridden the same horse a hundred miles in eighteen hours. He was full of courage and love for his country, and hundreds had already chosen him for their leader.

"Benedict Arnold was still another who made haste to Boston to assist in the siege. By the 21st of April it was estimated that twenty thousand men were collected about that city.

"The battle of Bunker Hill, you will recollect, was not fought till the 17th of June. During all the intervening time the Americans had kept the British officers and their troops besieged in Boston, and they were beginning to be much ashamed of their confinement.

"The Americans had decided to throw up a breast-work across the road near Prospect Hill, and to fortify Bunker Hill as soon as a supply of powder and artillery could be obtained; but learning that Gage had planned to extend his lines north and south over Dorchester and Charlestown, and had fixed upon the eighteenth of June for so doing, they decided to anticipate his movement, and on the fifteenth of that month the Massachusetts Committee of Safety informed the Council of War that, in their opinion, Dorchester Heights should be fortified; and they recommended unanimously the establishing of a post on Bunker Hill.

"The choice of an officer to conduct the enterprise fell upon William Prescott, who was colonel of a regiment; and the next evening a brigade of a thousand men was put under his command.

"Soon after sunset they paraded on Cambridge Common. They were not in uniform as American troops would be in these days, nor had they such arms; for the most part they had fowling-pieces,—no bayonets to them,—and only a small supply of powder and bullets, which they carried in horns and pouches.

"Four days previously a proclamation had been issued threatening all persons in arms against their sovereign with death under martial law, by the cord as rebels and traitors. That menace these men were the first to defy; and he, Prescott, was resolved 'never to be taken alive.'

"Langdon, the president of Harvard College, prayed fervently with them. Then as it began to grow dark on that summer night, they marched silently and without noise across the narrow isthmus, taking with them their wagons with intrenching tools; and Prescott, calling around him his officers and Richard Gridley, an experienced engineer, consulted with them as to the spot on which they should erect their earthworks.

"Bunker Hill had been proposed by the committee, but Prescott had received orders to march to Breed's Hill, and obeyed them. It was nearer Boston, and he and his companions thought it better suited than the other for annoying the British in the town and the shipping in the harbour.

"So the engineer drew there, by the light of the stars, the lines of a redoubt nearly eight rods square. The bells of Boston had struck twelve before they began their work by turning the first sod, but every man of the thousand plied the pickaxe and spade in turn, and so rapidly that the parapet soon assumed form and height sufficient for defence, and Prescott said to himself, 'We shall keep our ground if some screen, however slight, can be completed before discovery.'

"He set a watch to patrol the shore, and twice went down to the margin of the water, on which three British vessels lay at anchor,—the 'Lively' in the ferry between Boston and Charlestown, and a little to the eastward of her the 'Falcon,' sloop-of-war, and the 'Somerset,' a ship-of-the-line,—and listening intently he could hear the drowsy cry of the sentinels on their decks, 'All is well.'"

Captain Raymond paused and looked at his watch.

"It is time we were going," he said. "I will just point out to you all the localities made interesting by the events of that day, and finish my story on board the 'Dolphin,' to which we are just about to return. We may be in the way of other visitors here, but there will be quite to ourselves, and an annoyance to no one."

They went back to their hotel, where the Captain left them for a little, saying he had some purchases to make for use on the voyage, but would return shortly to see them on board the yacht.

He was not gone very long, and on his return the entire party—with the exception of Donald Keith who had bidden them farewell early that morning—returned with him to the "Dolphin," which presently sailed out of the harbour and pursued her way up along the New England coast.