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Page 65
He went on a few steps further, and paused before the Province House.
No range of brick stores had then sprung up to hide the mansion of the
royal governors from public view. It had a spacious court-yard, bordered
with trees, and enclosed with a wrought-iron fence. On the cupola, that
surmounted the edifice, was the gilded figure of an Indian chief, ready
to let fly an arrow from his bow. Over the wide front door was a
balcony, in which the chief justice had often stood, when the governor
and high officers of the province showed themselves to the people.
While Chief Justice Oliver gazed sadly at the Province House, before
which a sentinel was pacing, the double leaves of the door were thrown
open, and Sir William Howe made his appearance. Behind him came a throng
of officers, whose steel scabbards clattered against the stones, as they
hastened down the court-yard. Sir William Howe was a dark-complexioned
man, stern and haughty in his deportment. He stepped as proudly, in that
hour of defeat, as if he were going to receive the submission of the
rebel general.
The chief justice bowed and accosted him.
"This is a grievous hour for both of us, Sir William," said he.
"Forward! gentlemen," said Sir William Howe to the officers who attended
him: "we have no time to hear lamentations now!"
And, coldly bowing, he departed. Thus, the chief justice had a
foretaste of the mortifications which the exiled New Englanders
afterwards suffered from the haughty Britons. They were despised even by
that country which they had served more faithfully than their own.
A still heavier trial awaited Chief Justice Oliver, as he passed onward
from the Province House. He was recognized by the people in the street.
They had long known him as the descendant of an ancient and honorable
family. They had seen him sitting, in his scarlet robes, upon the
judgment seat. All his life long, either for the sake of his ancestors,
or on account of his own dignified station and unspotted character, he
had been held in high respect. The old gentry of the province were
looked upon almost as noblemen, while Massachusetts was under royal
government.
But now, all hereditary reverence for birth and rank was gone. The
inhabitants shouted in derision, when they saw the venerable form of the
old chief justice. They laid the wrongs of the country, and their own
sufferings during the siege--their hunger, cold, and sickness--partly to
his charge, and to that of his brother Andrew, and his kinsman
Hutchinson. It was by their advice that the king had acted, in all the
colonial troubles. But the day of recompense was come.
"See the old tory!" cried the people, with bitter laughter. "He is
taking his last look at us. Let him show his white wig among us an hour
hence, and we'll give him a coat of tar and feathers!"
The chief justice, however, knew that he need fear no violence, so long
as the British troops were in possession of the town. But alas! it was a
bitter thought, that he should leave no loving memory behind him. His
forefathers, long after their spirits left the earth, had been honored
in the affectionate remembrance of the people. But he, who would
henceforth be dead to his native land, would have no epitaph save
scornful and vindictive words. The old man wept.
"They curse me--they invoke all kinds of evil on my head!" thought he,
in the midst of his tears. "But, if they could read my heart, they would
know that I love New England well. Heaven bless her, and bring her again
under the rule of our gracious king! A blessing, too, on these poor,
misguided people!"
The chief justice flung out his hands with a gesture, as if he were
bestowing a parting benediction on his countrymen. He had now reached
the southern portion of the town, and was far within the range of cannon
shot from the American batteries. Close beside him was the broad stump
of a tree, which appeared to have been recently cut down. Being weary
and heavy at heart, he was about to sit down upon the stump.
Suddenly, it flashed upon his recollection, that this was the stump of
Liberty Tree! The British soldiers had cut it down, vainly boasting that
they could as easily overthrow the liberties of America. Under its
shadowy branches, ten years before, the brother of Chief Justice Oliver
had been compelled to acknowledge the supremacy of the people, by taking
the oath which they prescribed. This tree was connected with all the
events that had severed America from England.
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