When time, who steals our years away
Shall steal our pleasures too,
The memory of the past will stay,
And half our joys renew.
--Moore.
The Stevens family was growing with the colonies. Of the descendants of Mathew Stevens who came to New Plymouth in the Mayflower, there were many living in Boston, New York, Salem, Rhode Island and Connecticut. The family, widely scattered as its members were, never lost track of each other. They knew all their relatives in Virginia, Maryland and Carolinia.
Charles Stevens, but a youth, was on a visit to Connecticut, when an event transpired, which has since become historical. An aunt of Charles Stevens was the wife of a certain Captain Wadsworth, and Charles was visiting at this aunt's house when the incident happened.
As the student of American history doubtless knows, the tyrannical Governor Andros of New York, claimed dominion over all that scope of country denominated as the New Netherland, a very indefinite term applied to a great scope of country extending from Maryland to the Connecticut River, to which point Andros claimed jurisdiction.
As early as 1675, he went to the mouth of the Connecticut River with a small naval force, to assert his authority. Captain Bull, the commander of a small garrison at Saybrook, permitted him to land; but when the governor began to read his commission, Bull ordered him to be silent. Andros was compelled to yield to the bold spirit and superior military power of Captain Bull, and in a towering passion he returned to New York, flinging curses and threats behind him at the people of Connecticut in general and Captain Bull in particular.
More than a dozen years had passed since Andros had been humiliated by Connecticut, and, despite his anathemas, the colony quietly pursued the even tenor of its way. At the end of that period, a most exciting incident occurred at Hartford, during the visit of Charles Stevens to that city. This historical incident has about it all the rosy hues of romance. On the very day of the arrival of Charles Stevens at Hartford, while he was talking with Captain Wadsworth, his aunt's husband, a member of the colonial assembly suddenly entered the house, his face flushed with excitement.
"What has happened, Mr. Prince?" Wadsworth asked, for he could see that the man was greatly excited.
"Governor Andros has come again," gasped Mr. Prince.
"Why should that alarm us? The fellow, though given to boasting, is not dangerous, or liable to put his threats into execution."
"But he has grown dangerous!" declared Mr. Prince. "The liberties of the colony are involved. Andros appears as a usurper of authority--the willing instrument of King James the second, who, it seems, has determined to hold absolute rule over all New England."
Captain Wadsworth became a little uneasy, though he was still inclined to treat the matter lightly. Mr. Prince, to convince him of the danger they were in, continued:
"You remember that on his arrival in New York as governor of New Netherland, he demanded the surrender of all the colonial charters into his hands."
"I remember such an order, and furthermore that all the colonies complied with his infamous demand save Connecticut. We have stubbornly refused to yield our charter voluntarily, for it is the guardian of our political rights."
"That is true, Captain Wadsworth," continued Mr. Prince, "and, to subdue our stubbornness, this viceroy has come to Hartford with sixty armed men, to demand the surrender of the charter in person."
Captain Wadsworth bounded to his feet in a rage and, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, declared:
"He shall not have it!"
Arriving at Hartford on the 31st of October, 1687, Andros found the general assembly in session in the meeting-house. The members received him with the courtesy due to his rank. Before that body, with armed men at his back, he demanded a formal surrender of the precious charter into his hands.
The members of the assembly were alarmed and amazed at his request.
The day was well nigh spent, when he arrived, and the members were engaged in a heated debate on a subject of the utmost importance.
"Wait until the discussion is ended, and then we will listen to you, governor," the president of the assembly answered to the demand of Andros.
"I have come for the charter, and I will have it!" said Andros, in his haughty, imperious manner.
He consented, however, to await the discussion; but as soon as it was ended, he declared that he would have the charter.
Captain Wadsworth chanced to be at his house on the arrival of Andros, and, as everybody had the most implicit confidence in the captain's good sense, a member was despatched for him, as has been stated.
After the captain had taken two or three turns across the room, he paused and asked:
"What is the assembly doing?"
"Engaged in a debate."
"And will he wait until it has ended?"
"He has promised to do so."
"Hasten back, Mr. Prince, and whisper in the ears of every member to prolong the debate. It will give us time. I am going to do something desperate. Tell them to discuss any side and every side of the question at issue, and have your longest speech-makers do their best--talk on anything and everything whether to the point or against it, so that they kill time until night."
Mr. Prince fixed his amazed eyes on the captain's face and read there a desperate determination.
"Captain," he began.
"I know what you would say, Mr. Prince; but it is needless to waste words; my resolution is formed, and I am going to save our charter or perish in the attempt."
"I hope you will not endanger your own life----"
"Mr. Prince, our liberties are in danger, and there is no time to think of life. Hasten back to the assembly and I will follow in a few moments."
Mr. Prince bowed and hastily returned to the house where the assembly was in session. As soon as he was gone, Charles Stevens said:
"Uncle, something terrible is going to happen, I know from your look and words. Won't you let me go with you?"
Captain Wadsworth fixed his eyes on the youth and answered:
"Yes, Charles, you will answer."
"What do you mean, uncle?"
"Are you willing to help us?"
"I am."
"Then you can put out the lights."
"What lights?"
"At the proper time, put out the lights in the assembly; but wait; I will go and muster the train-bands, and have them at hand to prevent the governor's soldiers from injuring the members of the general assembly."
Captain Wadsworth went out, and on his way looked into the State-house where everything was going as well as he could have wished. He found the debaters cudgelling their brains for something to say to the point or against it. Never did debaters take greater interest in a minor subject.
He summoned his train-bands to assemble at sunset. This done, he went home and found Charles eagerly waiting.
"Charles, you see the soldiers of Governor Andros at the State-house?"
"Yes."
"They are sent to take our liberties. My train-bands have their eyes on them."
"What do you intend doing, uncle? Will you fight them?"
"Not unless they force it. We have no wish to shed their blood. Listen; the charter is to be brought to the assembly in the same mahogany box in which Charles II. sent it to Governor Winthrop. When it is laid on the table, the lights are to be snuffed out. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Can you do it?"
"Nothing is easier."
"Remember, the work must be done right at the time, not too soon, nor too late."
"I will do it at the exact moment, uncle. Have no fear on that score."
The sun was setting, and the captain said:
"Come, Charles, let us hasten to the assembly. Look well at the setting sun, you may not live to see it rise."
Charles Stevens smiled and answered:
"You do not expect me to be a coward?"
"By no means; but I want you to be fully impressed with the seriousness of your mission."
They went to the general assembly at the meeting-house, where they found everything in the utmost confusion. The debate was at a white heat.
"Take your place, Charles, and be prepared to do your part," whispered Captain Wadsworth.
Charles got as close to the long table used by the secretaries as possible, without attracting special attention.
The discussion went on, darkness came and four lighted candles were placed on the table, and two set on a shelf on the wall. Those two candles on the wall were a great annoyance to Charles until he saw a man stationed near them.
Time passed on, and darkness had enveloped the earth. The debate was drawing to a close, or, in fact, had gone as far as it could, without arousing the suspicion of Governor Andros. When it ended, the governor of New York declared:
"I have waited as long as I will. I demand the charter at once. As governor of New York, this being a part of my dominion, I will have it."
"Wait----" began the president.
"No; already I have waited too long. Bring it at once."
There have been so many stories told of the Charter Oak that the author here feels justified in stepping aside from the narrative to quote from the journal for June 15, 1687, the following entry:
"Sundry of the court, desiring that the patent or charter might be brought into the court, the secretary sent for it, and informed the governor and court that he had the charter, and showed it to the court, and the governor bid him put it into the box again, and lay it on the table, and leave the key in the box, which he did, forthwith."
Affairs had proceeded to this point, when Charles Stevens, who had crept quite close to the table, with a long stick, at one sweep, snuffed out every candle on the table.
"Treason! treason!" cried Andros, and at this moment the two remaining candles on the wall were extinguished.
"Lights! lights!" cried a voice, and at the same moment, Andros shouted:
"The boy did it! kill the boy and seize the box!" His hand was outstretched to take the box from the table, when the same stick which had extinguished the lights gave his knuckles such a rap that he uttered a yell of pain. Though the lights were extinguished, through the windows the faint starlight dimly illuminated the scene. Charles Stevens saw the outline of his uncle, who seized the box and hurried with it from the meeting-house.
He followed him as rapidly as he could. A terrible uproar and confusion inside attracted the attention of everybody, so Captain Wadsworth escaped without being noticed, with the precious document under his arm. The youth was close behind him and, when they were outside, seized his arm.
"Unhand me!" cried Captain Wadsworth, snatching his sword from its sheath.
"Uncle!"
"Charles, it is you? Marry! boy, have a care how you approach me. Why! I was about to run you through."
"Have you got it?"
"Whist! Charles, the governor's soldiers are near. They may hear you."
"They have enough to do in there," answered the boy, pointing toward the meeting-house, in which pandemonium seemed to reign.
The voice of Governor Andros could be heard loud above the others calling to the troops to come to his aid. The soldiers began to crowd about the house, when, at a signal from Captain Wadsworth, the train-bands came on the scene and prepared to grapple with the soldiers. A bloody fight seemed inevitable; but Governor Andros, who was a coward as well as tyrant, at sign of danger, begged peace.
"Lights! Light the candles!" he cried, "and we will have peace." When the candles were relighted, the members were seen seated about the table in perfect order; but the charter could nowhere be seen. For a few moments, the outwitted governor stood glaring at first one and then the other of the assembly. His passion choked him to silence at first; but as soon as he partially recovered his self-possession, he demanded:
"Where is the charter?" No one answered, and, with bosom swelling with indignation at being cheated by a device of the shrewd members of the assembly, he threatened to have them arrested.
"Governor Andros, we dispute your authority here, and have disputed it before," said a member of the assembly. "You have your soldiers at the door and we have the train-bands of Connecticut ready to defend us against violence."
"Who of you has the charter?"
"I have not," answered one.
"Nor I."
"Nor I," answered each and every one.
"It was the boy," cried the enraged governor. "I saw him; he struck my hand in the dark; yet I knew it was he. Where is he? Whose son is he?"
Every member of the assembly shook their heads.
"We do not know him. He does not live in Connecticut."
"Where does he live?"
"He is from Massachusetts and beyond even the claimed bounds of your jurisdiction."
"So this is another trick. You have imported one from a distant colony to steal the charter," the indignant governor cried.
"We resent your insult!" cried an officer of the assembly. "The imputation is false!"
A scene far more stormy than any which had preceded it followed. The governor threatened the colony with the fury of his vengeance, and vowed he would report them to the king as in open rebellion against his authority. The colonists were shrewd and firm, and though some made very sarcastic answers to the governor's charges, they were, in the main, quite respectful.
Meanwhile, Captain Wadsworth and his wife's nephew, having the charter, hurried through the crowd, which opened for them to pass and closed behind them. Once in the street they hastened away at a rapid pace.
"What are you going to do with it?" Charles asked.
"Place it where it cannot be found by the tyrants," said the gallant captain. "There is a venerable oak with a hollow in it. In this cavity we will hide the charter, and none but you and I will know where it is. You can return to Salem, beyond reach of Governor Andros, and, as for me, he can flay me alive before I will reveal the hiding-place."
They had reached the outskirts of the village and paused beneath the wide-spreading branches of a great oak tree. The wind, sighing through the branches, seemed to the liberty-adoring Wadsworth to be whispering of freedom.
"Stand a little way off, Charles," commanded the captain. "And watch to see that no one is observing me."
Then, while Charles stood as sentry, he went to the tree and put the charter in the hollow. Little did the captain or his youthful assistant dream that their simple act would make the old tree historic.
As long as American students shall study the history of their country, will "The Charter Oak" be famous.
That same night Charles Stevens, fearing the wrath of Governor Andros, set out for his home at Salem. The tree in which the document was hidden was ever afterward known as the "Charter Oak." It remained vigorous, bearing fruit every year until a little after midnight, August, 1856, when it was prostrated by a heavy storm of wind. It stood in a vacant lot on the south side of Charter Street, a few rods from Main Street, in the city of Hartford.
When, in 1687, Andros demanded the surrender of the colonial charters, the inhabitants of Rhode Island instantly yielded. When the order for the seizure of the charters was first made known, the assembly of Rhode Island sent a most loyal address to the king saying:
"We humbly prostrate ourselves, our privileges, our all, at the gracious feet of your majesty, with an entire resolution to serve you with faithful hearts."
Andros therefore found no opposition in the little colony. Within a month after his arrival at Boston, he proceeded to Rhode Island, where he was graciously received. He formally dissolved the assembly, broke the seal of the colony, which bore the figure of an anchor, and the word Hope, admitted five of the inhabitants into his legislative council, and assumed the functions of governor; but he did not take away the parchment on which the charter was written. The people of Rhode Island were restive under the petty tyranny of Andros, and when they heard of the imprisonment of the despot at Boston, in 1689, they assembled at Newport, resumed popular government under the old charter, and began a new independent political career. From that time, until the enforced union of the colonies for mutual defence, at the breaking out of the French and Indian war, the inhabitants of Rhode Island bore their share in the defensive efforts, especially when the hostile savages hung along the frontiers of New York like an ill-omened cloud. The history of that commonwealth is identified with that of all New England, from the beginning of King William's war, soon after, to the expulsion of Andros.
Six years after the charter was hidden in the oak, Andros was succeeded by Governor Fletcher who made an attempt to control Connecticut, but was humbled and prevented and, in fact, driven away by Captain Wadsworth.
In 1689, the charter was brought out from the long place of concealment, a popular assembly was convened, Robert Treat was chosen governor, and Connecticut again assumed the position of an independent colony.
The name of Captain Wadsworth will ever be dear to the people of Connecticut, and so will the venerable oak which concealed their charter.
