Peter Faneuil was thirty and seven years old, when he began to reign—that is, when his uncle, Andrew, died, Feb. 13, 1737, according to Peter, in his letter to the Bakers, of London, or 1738, agreeably to the historical style, adopted by the public journals. In the News Letter of February “16, to 23,” we have the following account of the funeral.—“Last Monday the Corpse of Andrew Faneuil Esquire, whose death we mentioned in our last, was honorably interr’d here; above 1100 Persons, of all Ranks, besides the Mourners, following the Corpse, also a vast number of Spectators were gathered together on the Occasion, at which time the half-minute guns, from on board several vessels, were discharged. And ’tis suppos’d that as this Gentleman’s Fortune was the greatest of any among us, so his funeral was as generous and expensive as any that has been known here.”

Peter was appointed executor sole of Andrew’s will, and residuary legatee. He appears to have proceeded with great propriety. He immediately announced his uncle’s death to foreign correspondents; and furnished those, who had been custodiers of his property, with duly authenticated copies of the will; and took prompt measures, for the procurement of “the handsomest mourning rings.”

John, Archbishop of Canterbury, as was usual then, sent his commission to Judge Willard, from the Prerogative Court, to swear Peter, to render a true inventory, &c.; and Peter responded to John, that, although he was not bound so to do, by the laws of the Province, yet, for his “own satisfaction,” he should. Peter probably changed his mind, for no inventory of Andrew’s estate appears, among the ancient records of the Probate Court, in Suffolk. It is not, therefore, possible, to estimate the value of that “large and plentiful estate,” which came to Peter, from his uncle. That it was very considerable, for the times, there cannot be a doubt; but the times—one hundred and fourteen years ago—were the days of small things.

It has been observed, by an eminent man, that prayer and almsgiving are the pathways to Paradise. Andrew Faneuil commences his will, with a supplication, for the perfecting of his charities—“I commit my soul to God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, humbly begging the pardon of my sins, the perfecting of my charities, and everlasting life above.” This will was made, Sept. 12, 1734, and witnessed, by John Read, William Price and Charles Morris; and a codicil was added, Jan. 23, 1737; and both were proved, Feb. 15, 1737, two days after the testator’s death.

Wills have ever been accounted an interesting department of belles lettres; and I shall therefore furnish the reader with an abstract of Uncle Andrew’s.First. He gives his warehouse in Boston, in trust, to the minister of the French Church, in Boston, and his successors; two thirds of the income for the minister’s support, and one third to the elders, to create a fund for repairing the warehouse; and after the creation of such fund, the whole income to the minister; and, should the French church cease to be, then said warehouse to revert to his heirs—“excluding Benjamin Faneuil, of Boston, and the heirs of his body forever.”

Secondly. To said French Church, three pieces of plate, of the value of £36 sterling, “a flaggon for the communion table, a plate for the bread, and a bason to christen the children, with the coat of arms and name of the donor, engraven upon each of them.” On the 27th of February, fourteen days after his uncle’s death, Peter sent a copy of the will to Claude Fonnereau, in France, requesting him to purchase the plate, and added—“of the best fashion, and get engraved, agreeably to his orders, for which end you have his coat of arms in wax herewith, and if it should cost some small matter more, be pleased to charge the same.”

Thirdly. £100, in Province Bills, to be paid to the elders, for the poor of the French Church.

Fourthly. £50, in Province bills, and “a suit of mourning throughout,” to the French minister.

Fifthly. £100, in Province bills, to the overseers, for the poor of Boston.

Sixthly. To the Rev. Benjamin Colman, “a suit of mourning throughout.”

Seventhly. “To my loving brother, John Faneuil, of Rochelle, £100, sterling.”

Eighthly. “To my loving brother-in-law, Peter Cossart, of Cork, in Ireland, and his sister Susannah Cossart, of Amsterdam, £50 each to buy mourning.”

Ninthly. “To Benjamin Faneuil of Boston, son of my brother, Benjamin Faneuil, deceased, five shillings and no more.”

Tenthly. To his executor, in trust, 8000 ounces of silver, or pieces of eight, to purchase an estate of inheritance, at his discretion, within one year after the testator’s death, for his loving niece, Mary, wife of Gillam Phillips, and the heirs of her body, remainder to her right heirs. Peter, in correspondence with S. & W. Baker, refers to this purchase, and directs them to sell stocks of his late uncles, to meet the drafts.Eleventhly. To her son, Andrew, 500 ounces of silver, or pieces of eight, to be put at interest, till majority—to his mother, in case of his death before—and, in case of her death and his before—to her other children.

Twelfthly, thirteenthly, and fourteenthly. To his nieces, Anne, Susannah, and Marian, £2000 sterling, each; the two first to be paid six months, after his death, and the last, at majority, or marriage; four per cent. to be allowed her, per annum, ad interim, and she to be maintained by the executor, till she attained full age, or married. These legacies were paid from the funds of Uncle Andrew, in the hands of S. & W. Baker, of London.

Fifteenthly. To his loving sister, Susannah F., widow of Abraham de la Croix, of Rochelle, £1000 sterling.

Sixteenthly. To his servant maid, Hendrine Boyltins, who probably came, with the family, from Holland, “a suit of mourning throughout,” and 500 ounces of silver, in pieces of eight, or the value, in Province bills, at her election.

Seventeenthly. To Henry Johnson, her son, who became the confidential clerk of Peter Faneuil, 150 ounces, in pieces of eight, to be paid, at majority.

Eighteenthly. “I give, bequeath, and devise all the rest of my estate, both real and personal, whatsoever and wheresoever ’tis, in New England, Great Britain, France, Holland, or any other part of the world, to my loving nephew, Peter Faneuil, eldest son of my late brother, Benjamin Faneuil, to hold to him and his heirs forever.”

He then appoints Peter, sole executor.

The codicil revokes the legacy to his loving sister, the widow Susannah de la Croix, of Rochelle—“my mind and my will is, that my said sister, Susannah F., shall not have the said thousand pounds, nor any part of it.”

The severity of these five last words—and the phrase, in relation to his nephew—“excluding Benjamin Faneuil of Boston, and the heirs of his body forever;” and those final words of the ninth clause, by which the testator cuts off poor Benjamin, with “five shillings and no more,” are sufficiently piquant. Well may such an avunculus Hector commence his last will, with a fervent supplication to “God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” for the perfecting of his charities.

How the widow, Susannah, came to lose her thousand pounds I do not know. Something, that she said or did, or did not say or do, was wafted, all the way over the water, from Rochelle, no doubt, and came to the old gentleman’s irritable ears, and roused his ire.

But I well comprehend the occasion, upon which he came to disinherit his nephew, Benjamin Faneuil. My female readers have already arrived at the conclusion, doubtless, that Benjamin so far forgot himself, and his duty to his opulent, old uncle, as to fall in love without asking his permission. Well: they are perfectly right—such was the fact. Benjamin fell in love. He was determined not to be found, like tinkling brass, even at the hazard of losing the good will, and the gold of his uncle Andrew—so he fell in love. And, if the girl of his heart resembled her daughter, Mary Faneuil, as she is represented by Blackburn, how the poor fellow could have helped it, God only knows.

There is nothing, in all Amboyna, more spicy, than this little incident, in the history of the Faneuils; and, having spoilt it, perhaps, by this avant courier, I will now venture to tell the story; premising, that it was far better told, by the lady, who related it to me, and who is a lineal descendant of Benjamin, himself.

To give proper effect to this little episode, I must take the reader to a pretty village, as it was just then beginning to be, one hundred and fifty years ago, on the banks of the Hudson, some twenty miles, only, from the city of New York. There, the persecuted Huguenots gathered together, and planted their new home, their New Rochelle. Almost immediately after his marriage with Anne Bureau, in 1699, at Narragansett, Benjamin Faneuil rejoined his Huguenot friends, and fellow-townsmen, in New Rochelle; and there his children were born. New Rochelle, as I have stated, was the birth-place of Peter Faneuil.

Andrew, having arrived in Boston from Holland, very soon after the beginning of the eighteenth century; having buried his wife; and being childless, selected Benjamin, the second son of his brother, Benjamin Faneuil, as an object of particular regard. The boy, was, accordingly, transferred from New Rochelle to Boston. He was educated, and brought up, under his patron’s eye; and was considered, by the world, as the heir apparent of his opulent uncle. As he grew up, towards man’s estate, it would have been an unheard of circumstance, if the dowagers of Shawmut, with their marriageable daughters, had not fixed their hopeful eyes, upon young Benjamin, if it were only for the sake of whatever might be found, sooner or later, in the mouth of his sack. It would have been a miracle, if their exhibitions of regard, for the young man, had not visibly increased; and their fears had not been frequently and feelingly expressed, lest that excellent, old gentleman, Andrew Faneuil Esquire, had taken cold.

A patron is rather too prone to look upon a protÉgÉ, as a puppet. The idea, that Benjamin could be led astray, however tempting the provocation, to commit the crime of matrimony, however lawful and right, however accomplished, and virtuous, and lovely the object, without leave, first had and obtained, from him, at whose board he ate his daily bread, never occurred to Uncle Andrew, for an instant. He supposed, of course, that he had the key to Benjamin’s soul. It never occurred to the old gentleman, whose courtship was carried on, in Holland, that falling in love was precisely as much of an accident, as falling into the fire, or into the water.

Well: Benjamin was an intelligent young man; and he was admirably posted up, upon the subject of his uncle’s opinions, and prejudices. Nevertheless, he fell in love, very emphatically; and with a girl, as pretty, doubtless, as she was poor. He knew, that his uncle would never consent to such a marriage. But he knew, that he had plighted his troth; and he clearly saw, since he must run the hazard of breaking one heart, or two, that it would be rather more equitable to risk the old gentleman’s, instead of the girl’s and his own.

Accordingly, Benjamin secretly took unto himself a lawful wife; and, for a while, though Benjamin was, doubtless, much the happier, Uncle Andrew was nothing the wiser. However strange it may appear, though there were no giants, there were mischievous women, in those days. One of this category, in an evil hour, like a toad, as she was, whispered the secret, into the ear of Uncle Andrew.

The old Huguenot was not of the melting mood. The conduct of his nephew produced not grief, but anger. It reached no tender spot, in the recesses of his heart, but chafed the old man’s pericardium, till it drew a blister there. He bottled up his wrath, and corked it well; that the offender might have the full benefit of the fermentation, when the old gentleman came to pour the contents of the vial, on the devoted head of his unsuspecting nephew.

The following morning, they met, at the breakfast table. The meal passed, as usual. But with what feelings must that old man have contemplated the poor fellow, the boy of his adoption, whom he was about to prostrate, as he finished the last mouthful he was ever to partake at that board! The repast was finished.—A brief colloquy ensued—“I hear you are married”—“Yes, uncle, I am”—“Then you will leave my house.” The young man instantly took his departure. They never met again, until years had passed away,—and then, in that place, where there is no work nor device. There they lie, in the Faneuil tomb, in the Granary Ground; the unforgiving uncle and the disinherited nephew, side by side. Benjamin Faneuil died, at his residence in Brighton, in October, 1785, and was buried, in the family vault.