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Page 38
"The English Parliament," said Grandfather, "agreed to pay the colonists
for all the expenses of the siege. Accordingly, in 1749, two hundred and
fifteen chests of Spanish dollars, and one hundred casks of copper coin,
were brought from England to Boston. The whole amount was about a
million of dollars. Twenty-seven carts and trucks carried this money
from the wharf to the provincial treasury. Was not this a pretty liberal
reward?"
"The mothers of the young men, who were killed at the siege of
Louisbourg, would not have thought it so," said Laurence.
"No, Laurence," rejoined Grandfather; "and every warlike achievement
involves an amount of physical and moral evil, for which all the gold in
the Spanish mines would not be the slightest recompense. But, we are to
consider that this siege was one of the occasions, on which the
colonists tested their ability for war, and thus were prepared for the
great contest of the Revolution. In that point of view, the valor of our
forefathers was its own reward."
Grandfather went on to say, that the success of the expedition against
Louisbourg, induced Shirley and Pepperell to form a scheme for
conquering Canada. This plan, however, was not carried into execution.
In the year 1746, great terror was excited by the arrival of a
formidable French fleet upon the coast. It was commanded by the Duke
d'Anville, and consisted of forty ships of war, besides vessels with
soldiers on board. With this force, the French intended to retake
Louisbourg, and afterwards to ravage the whole of New England. Many
people were ready to give up the country for lost.
But the hostile fleet met with so many disasters and losses, by storm
and shipwreck, that the Duke d'Anville is said to have poisoned himself
in despair. The officer next in command threw himself upon his sword and
perished. Thus deprived of their commanders, the remainder of the ships
returned to France. This was as great a deliverance for New England, as
that which old England had experienced in the days of Queen Elizabeth,
when the Spanish Armada was wrecked upon her coast.
"In 1747," proceeded Grandfather, "Governor Shirley was driven from the
Province House, not by a hostile fleet and army, but by a mob of the
Boston people. They were so incensed at the conduct of the British
Commodore Knowles, who had impressed some of their fellow-citizens, that
several thousands of them surrounded the council-chamber, and threw
stones and brick-bats into the windows. The governor attempted to pacify
them; but, not succeeding, he thought it necessary to leave the town,
and take refuge within the walls of Castle William. Quiet was not
restored, until Commodore Knowles had sent back the impressed men. This
affair was a flash of spirit, that might have warned the English not to
venture upon any oppressive measures against their colonial brethren."
Peace being declared between France and England in 1748, the governor
had now an opportunity to sit at his ease in Grandfather's chair. Such
repose, however, appears not to have suited his disposition; for, in the
following year, he went to England, and thence was dispatched to France,
on public business. Meanwhile, as Shirley had not resigned his office,
Lieutenant-Governor Phips acted as chief magistrate in his stead.
CHAPTER IX.
In the early twilight of Thanksgiving eve, came Laurence, and Clara, and
Charley, and little Alice, hand in hand, and stood in a semi-circle
round Grandfather's chair. They had been joyous, throughout that day of
festivity, mingling together in all kinds of play, so that the house had
echoed with their airy mirth.
Grandfather, too, had been happy, though not mirthful. He felt that this
was to be set down as one of the good Thanksgivings of his life. In
truth, all his former Thanksgivings had borne their part in the present
one; for, his years of infancy, and youth, and manhood with their
blessings and their griefs, had flitted before him, while he sat
silently in the great chair. Vanished scenes had been pictured in the
air. The forms of departed friends had visited him. Voices, to be heard
no more on earth, had sent an echo from the infinite and the eternal.
These shadows, if such they were, seemed almost as real to him, as what
was actually present--as the merry shouts and laughter of the
children--as their figures, dancing like sunshine before his eyes.
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