The women of Boston were not behind the men in their opposition to the tea-duty; many, doubtless, keenly felt the loss of their favorite beverage. The ladies had their meetings, at which they resolved not to use the obnoxious herb. the lament of one matron over her empty urn: —

"Farewell the tea-board, with its gaudy equipage

Of cups and saucers, cream-bucket, sugar-tongs,
The pretty tea-chest, also, lately stored
With Hyson, Congou, and best double fine.

Full many a joyous moment have I sat by ye,

Hearing the girls tattle, the old maids talk scandal,
And the spruce coxcomb laugh at maybe - nothing.
Though now detestable,

Because I am taught (and I believe it true)

Its use will fasten slavish chains upon my country,
To reign Triumphant in America."

Here is

The occupation of the Old South by troops was at the instance of General John Burgoyne. It was his regiment, the Queen's Light Dragoons, that set up the riding-school in the House of God, overthrowing its cherished idols, and transforming it into a circus. These brave troopers never showed their colors outside the fortifications. The pulpit and pews were all removed and burnt, and many hundred loads of gravel carted in and spread upon the floor. The east gallery was reserved for spectators of the feats of horsemanship, while a bar fitted up in the first gallery offered means of refreshment. "The beautiful carved pew of Deacon Hubbard, with the silken hangings, was taken down and carried to -'s house by an officer and made a hog stye."* The south door was closed, and a leaping-bar placed for the horses. It has been stated that some of the valuable books and manuscripts of Rev. Thomas Prince went for fuel during the winter, as did also the adjoining parsonage house, and the noble sycamore-trees that skirted the grass-plot in front.

After the surrender of Burgoyne his army marched to Cambridge. General Heath, then commanding in Boston, invited Sir John to dine with him, and he appeared in response to the invitation, bringing with him Phillips and Riedesel. After dinner * Newell's Diary. Thacher's Military Journal.

Burgoyne desired to go out of town by way of Charlestown, and General Heath accompanied him to the ferry. The curiosity to see the prisoners was very great, and the inhabitants crowded the streets, windows, and even the house-tops, to gratify it. As the procession was passing the Province House, General Burgoyne observed to the other generals, "There is the former residence of the governor." Some one in the crowd who heard the remark said, in an audible voice, "And on the other side is the riding-school."

A good anecdote is told of the hero of Portugal and Flanders while the prisoner of Gates. "In the height of jocular conversation Burgoyne told the victor of Saratoga that he was more fit for a midwife than a general. Acknowledged,' said

said Gates, "for I have delivered you of seven thousand men.'" While the regulars held possession of the church, an incident occurred which frightened the more superstitious among them, so that it was difficult to maintain a guard, as was the custom, at the church door. Among the troops were a good many Scotch Presbyterians, who were not a little fearful of retributive justice for their abuse of the place. Some one, knowing the Scotch belief in apparitions, appeared to the sentinel as the ghost of Dr. Sewall. The Scot yelled with affright to the guard stationed at the Province House, and was with difficulty pacified.

When D'Estaing's fleet lay in Boston harbor, in September, 1778, the British fleet, of twenty sail, hove in sight. It was discovered and the alarm given by Mr. John Cutler from the steeple of the Old South. Admiral D'Estaing, who was on shore, immediately put off for the squadron, and the militia were ordered to the Castle and the works on Noddle's and George's Island, Dorchester Heights, etc., but the enemy made no attempt. The same fleet afterwards made the descent on New Bedford and Martha's Vineyard.

The old church has been considerably changed in its interior. It was one of the last to retain the square pews, elevated pulpit, and sounding-board. The upper gallery was altered, a new organ obtained, and the brush of modern art applied to the

ceilings; otherwise the house remains much the same as when erected. It had a narrow escape from destruction by fire many years ago, but was saved by superhuman efforts on the part of Isaac Harris, the mast-maker, who ascended the steeple while it was on fire, and succeeded in extinguishing the flames. For this brave act he received a silver pitcher.

One of Dr. Sewall's flock was Phillis Wheatley, a woman of color and a slave. She was a pure African, brought to America in 1761, and yet she possessed genius of a high order. She was, in a great measure, self-taught, never having received any school education, yet wrote admirable verses. Her poems were collected in a thin volume and published in London, and have also been reprinted in this country. One of her effusions, addressed to Washington, may be found in Sparks's "Life of Washington"; it brought an acknowledgment from the general, then at Cambridge, also printed therein. She accompanied the son of her master to London in 1773, where she received great notice from the nobility, but soon returned to Boston, where she contracted an unhappy marriage, and died not long after in utter destitution at her house in Court Street. The genuineness of her poems was attested by Governors Hutchinson, Hancock, Bowdoin, her master Wheatley, and almost every clergyman in Boston. The following extract is from her Hymn to

the Evening

"Filled with the praise of Him who gives the light,

And draws the sable curtains of the night,
Let placid slumbers soothe each weary mind,
At morn to wake, more heavenly, more refined;
So shall the labors of the day begin
More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.
Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes;
Then cease my song, till fair Aurora rise."

We have spoken of the trees that of yore graced the green before the governor's house and church. A single horse-chestnut waves its scanty foliage behind the church on the Milk Street side.

If you look closely at the masonry of the Old South you will notice that each course is laid with the side and end of the

brick alternating; this is known as the Flemish Bond. The West Church, Old Brattle Street, Park Street, and some others, have walls built in the same manner. Gawen Brown, of Boston, made the first clock, esteemed the finest in America. Prince library was deposited in the steeple.

The

Spring Lane recalls the ancient Spring-gate, the natural fountain at which Winthrop and Johnson stooped to quench their thirst, and from which, no doubt, Madam Winthrop and Anne Hutchinson filled their flagons for domestic use. The gentlewomen may have paused here for friendly chat, if the rigor of the governor's opposition to the schismatic Anne did not forbid. The handmaid of Elder Thomas Oliver, Winthrop's next neighbor on the opposite corner of the Spring-gate, fetched her pitcher, like another Rebecca, from this well; and grim Richard Brackett, the jailer, may have laid down his halberd to quaff a morning draught.

Water Street is also self-explanatory; it descended the incline to the water at Oliver's Dock. We have described elsewhere the primitive aspect of the region from Congress Street to the harbor. A British barrack was in Water Street at the time of the Massacre.

At the north corner of Washington and Water Streets was the sign of the "Heart and Crown." It was the printing-office of Thomas Fleet in 1731. After his death, crowns being unpopular, the sign was changed to the "Bible and Heart." Fleet sold books, household goods, etc. In 1735 he began the publication of the Boston Evening Post, a successor of the Weekly Rehearsal, begun in 1731. Here is one of the Post's advertisements; it would look somewhat strangely in the columns of its modern namesake: :

"To be sold by the printer of this paper, the very best Negro Woman in this Town, who has had the Small-Pox and the measles; is as hearty as a Horse, as brisk as a Bird, and will work like a Beaver. Aug. 23d. 1742.”

Having taken in the surroundings of the church to the north, we may now set our faces southward and visit in fancy the official residence of the royal deputies.

The Province House was one of the last relics of the old colony to disappear. It has formed the theme of some pleasant fictions by Hawthorne in "Twice-Told Tales," as well as a brief sketch of the edifice not founded in fancy. The liquid which mine host mixed for the novelist before he set about his researches has a smack of reality about it, and may have enlivened his picturesque description.

This ancient abode of the royal governors was situated nearly opposite the head of Milk Street. The place is now shut out

from the vision of the passer-by by a row of brick structures standing on Washington Street. Before the erection of any buildings to screen it from view, the Province House stood twenty or thirty paces back from old Marlborough Street, with a handsome grass lawn in front, ornamented by two stately oak