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Page 6
"Grandfather, I want to hear more about your chair," said he.
Now Grandfather remembered that Charley had galloped away upon a stick,
in the midst of the narrative of poor Lady Arbella, and I know not
whether he would have thought it worth while to tell another story,
merely to gratify such an inattentive auditor as Charley. But Laurence
laid down his book and seconded the request. Clara drew her chair nearer
to Grandfather, and little Alice immediately closed her picture-book,
and looked up into his face. Grandfather had not the heart to disappoint
them.
He mentioned several persons who had a share in the settlement of our
country, and who would be well worthy of remembrance, if we could find
room to tell about them all. Among the rest, Grandfather spoke of the
famous Hugh Peters, a minister of the gospel, who did much good to the
inhabitants of Salem. Mr. Peters afterwards went back to England, and
was chaplain to Oliver Cromwell; but Grandfather did not tell the
children what became of this upright and zealous man, at last. In fact,
his auditors were growing impatient to hear more about the history of
the chair.
"After the death of Mr. Johnson," said he, "Grandfather's chair came
into the possession of Roger Williams. He was a clergyman, who arrived
at Salem, and settled there in 1631. Doubtless the good man has spent
many a studious hour in this old chair, either penning a sermon, or
reading some abstruse book of theology, till midnight came upon him
unawares. At that period, as there were few lamps or candles to be had,
people used to read or work by the light of pitchpine torches. These
supplied the place of the "midnight oil," to the learned men of New
England."
Grandfather went on to talk about Roger Williams, and told the children
several particulars, which we have not room to repeat. One incident,
however, which was connected with his life, must be related, because it
will give the reader an idea of the opinions and feelings of the first
settlers of New England. It was as follows:
THE RED CROSS.
While Roger Williams sat in Grandfather's chair, at his humble residence
in Salem, John Endicott would often come to visit him. As the clergy had
great influence in temporal concerns, the minister and magistrate would
talk over the occurrences of the day, and consult how the people might
be governed according to scriptural laws.
One thing especially troubled them both. In the old national banner of
England, under which her soldiers have fought for hundreds of years,
there is a Red Cross, which has been there ever since the days when
England was in subjection to the Pope. The Cross, though a holy symbol,
was abhorred by the Puritans, because they considered it a relic of
Popish idolatry. Now, whenever the train-band of Salem was mustered, the
soldiers, with Endicott at their head, had no other flag to march under
than this same old papistical banner of England, with the Red Cross in
the midst of it. The banner of the Red Cross, likewise, was flying on
the walls of the fort of Salem; and a similar one was displayed in
Boston harbor, from the fortress on Castle Island.
"I profess, brother Williams," Captain Endicott would say, after they
had been talking of this matter, "it distresses a Christian man's heart,
to see this idolatrous Cross flying over our heads. A stranger beholding
it, would think that we had undergone all our hardships and dangers, by
sea and in the wilderness, only to get new dominions for the Pope of
Rome."
"Truly, good Mr. Endicott," Roger Williams would answer, "you speak as
an honest man and Protestant Christian should. For mine own part, were
it my business to draw a sword, I should reckon it sinful to fight under
such a banner. Neither can I, in my pulpit, ask the blessing of Heaven
upon it."
Such, probably, was the way in which Roger Williams and John Endicott
used to talk about the banner of the Red Cross. Endicott, who was a
prompt and resolute man, soon determined that Massachusetts, if she
could not have a banner of her own, should at least be delivered from
that of the Pope of Rome.
Not long afterwards there was a military muster at Salem. Every
able-bodied man, in the town and neighborhood, was there. All were well
armed, with steel caps upon their heads, plates of iron upon their
breasts and at their backs, and gorgets of steel around their necks.
When the sun shone upon these ranks of iron-clad men, they flashed and
blazed with a splendor that bedazzled the wild Indians, who had come out
of the woods to gaze at them. The soldiers had long pikes, swords, and
muskets, which were fired with matches, and were almost as heavy as a
small cannon.
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