“What were the British doing, all this time?” inquired Charley.

“They lay idle in the town,” replied Grandfather.  “General Gage had been recalled to England, and was succeeded by Sir William Howe.  The British army, and the inhabitants of Boston, were now in great distress.  Being shut up in the town so long, they had consumed almost all their provisions, and burnt up all their fuel.  The soldiers tore down the Old North church, and used its rotten boards and timbers for fire-wood.  To heighten their distress, the small pox broke out.  They probably lost far more men by cold, hunger, and sickness, than had been slain at Lexington and Bunker Hill.”

“What a dismal time for the poor women and children!” exclaimed Clara.

“At length,” continued Grandfather, “in March, 1776, General Washington, who had now a good supply of powder, began a terrible cannonade and bombardment from Dorchester heights.  One of the cannon balls which he fired into the town, struck the tower of the Brattle Street church, where it may still be seen.  Sir William Howe made preparations to cross over in boats, and drive the Americans from their batteries, but was prevented by a violent gale and storm.  General Washington next erected a battery on Nook’s hill, so near the enemy, that it was impossible for them to remain in Boston any longer.”

“Hurra!  Hurra!” cried Charley, clapping his hands triumphantly.  “I wish I had been there, to see how sheepish the Englishmen looked.”

And, as Grandfather thought that Boston had never witnessed a more interesting period than this, when the royal power was in its death agony, he determined to take a peep into the town, and imagine the feelings of those who were quitting it forever.

Chapter IX

“Alas! for the poor tories!” said Grandfather.  “Until the very last morning after Washington’s troops had shown themselves on Nook’s hill, these unfortunate persons could not believe that the audacious rebels, as they called the Americans, would ever prevail against King George’s army.  But, when they saw the British soldiers preparing to embark on board of the ships of war, then they knew that they had lost their country.  Could the patriots have known how bitter were their regrets, they would have forgiven them all their evil deeds, and sent a blessing after them as they sailed away from their native shore.”

In order to make the children sensible of the pitiable condition of these men, Grandfather singled out Peter Oliver, chief justice of Massachusetts under the crown, and imagined him walking through the streets of Boston, on the morning before he left it forever.

This effort of Grandfather’s fancy may be called—­

THE TORY’S FAREWELL

Old Chief Justice Oliver threw on his red cloak, and placed his three-cornered hat on the top of his white wig.  In this garb he intended to go forth and take a parting look at objects that had been familiar to him from his youth.  Accordingly, he began his walk in the north part of the town, and soon came to Faneuil Hall.  This edifice, the cradle of liberty, had been used by the British officers as a play-house.