The Handy Boston Answer Book. Samuel Willard Crompton

motherland. To Bostonians, the charter of 1629 was the fount of their liberties.

      Bostonians tended to assume that the charter would always remain in existence, that they would remain forever protected from the laws and regulations of the motherland. But in the early 1680s, one sign after another pointed in the opposite direction. King Charles II—best known as the Merry Monarch—had indeed been indulgent toward Boston and New England, but the tone of his government changed over time. In 1683 Boston was served with a summons, either to submit to the king’s mercy, legally speaking, or to send attorneys to defend her in London law courts.

      The Old North Church of Paul Revere fame, seen from the narrow confines of Hull Street in the Old North End.

      How did Bostonians respond to the summons issued by King Charles II?

      To the best of our knowledge, Bostonians were more willing to submit than were their country cousins. Men from the towns of the hinterland proved keener to resist royal authority. Perhaps Bostonians were more conscious of the threat that might be posed by the Royal Navy.

      That the Old North Church was prominent in the Revolution of 1775 is well known. What about its role in the 1680s?

      Reverend Increase Mather was pastor of the Old North Church (he was simultaneously president of Harvard College). In 1688 Reverend Mather snuck out of town in disguise to escape the watchful eye of the English customs agent, Edward Randolph. Upon arriving in London, Mather importuned the king and queen to grant a new charter to Massachusetts. Upon his return in 1692, Reverend Mather was hailed as the foremost defender of Boston’s liberties.

      What does Sam Sewall tell us about the charter controversy?

      To Sewall and other devout Puritans, loss of the Massachusetts Bay charter was akin to spiritual death. In 1684 lawyers of King Charles II revoked the charter, and in 1686, King James II sent a new royal governor, armed with a powerful commission to reshape Boston, Massachusetts, and, indeed, all of New England.

      Sir Edmund Andros came ashore on December 21, 1686, bringing with him roughly sixty British soldiers (these were the first redcoats seen in Boston). Sewall was in front of the Town House (right about where Faneuil Hall stands today) when the new commission was read aloud, and it seemed to him that Massachusetts Bay was in its death throes. Over the next twelve months, Sir Edmund Andros abrogated many of the liberties of the people of Massachusetts, and even questioned the land titles of many of the early Puritans. Sam Sewall, who owned part of Hog Island (where Logan Airport stands today) had good reason for concern.

      Was there any hope? Was there any hero who could perhaps change the situation?

      Sam Sewall hoped that Sir William Phips (1651–1695) would be that man. Born on the coast of Maine, Phips came to Boston in his twenties, and rose in a spectacular fashion. In 1687, he found the wreck of a Spanish treasure galleon, and after bringing up thirty tons of silver, he sailed to London where he was knighted by a grateful King James II. If there was anyone with the special combination of brains and brawn to restore the Massa chusetts charter, it was Sir William.

      Events moved faster than anyone anticipated, however. In November 1688, William and Mary, the Prince and Princess of Orange, crossed the English Channel from Holland and ejected her father, King James II, from the throne of England. When Bostonians learned that Old England had carried out its so-called Glorious Revolution, they resolved to accomplish something similar. The stage was set for Boston’s first revolution.

      What was the Boston Revolt of 1689?

      Whether one calls it a revolt or a coup, it took about nine hours. On April 18, 1689, Bostonians rose against the governor, Sir Edmund Andros. They knew that his sponsor, King James II, had been removed from the British throne, and it seemed a good bet that the new monarchs, King William and Queen Mary, would approve their action. Even so, it required some nerve to challenge the royal governor, who was backed by about one hundred redcoats and the HMS Rose, a frigate in Boston Harbor.

      Amazingly, the entire episode transpired without the loss of a single life. Captain John George, the frigate commander, was arrested while ashore, and the HMS Rose yielded without a fight. Sir Edmund Andros hung on at Fort Hill—one of the three original hills of Shawmut Peninsula—till mid-afternoon; then he, too, surrendered. All of his counselors were in custody by the end of the day. Boston—and Massachusetts—proudly sent word to England that they had overthrown Sir Edmund and asked for reconfirmation of their old political charter.

      How did William and Mary feel about Bostonians taking matters into their own hands in this fashion?

      The king and queen never went on record. They left it to their high judges and counselors to sort out the matter. In the end, Sir Edmund and all his people were exonerated of the many charges against them, but none of them ever returned to Massachusetts in any positions of authority. Boston, and the Bay colony, had to wait while the king and queen made up their minds about the charter issue.

      In the year that followed the revolution—or the one-day coup, as some call it—Bostonians were eager, even anxious, to demonstrate their loyalty to William and Mary. When they learned that England and Holland had gone to war with France, Bostonians decided to prove their loyalty by undertaking a military campaign in William and Mary’s honor. In May 1690, about seven hundred Boston militia—led by Sir William Phips—captured French Port Royal in present-day Nova Scotia. Emboldened by their success, the Bostonians planned an even greater effort, hoping to conquer Québec City.

      One often hears of Nantasket, but it seldom appears on the maps. How close is it to Boston?

      As the crow flies, Nantasket is less than a dozen miles from downtown Boston, but the curve, or arc of the land means it is twice that distance by land. One has to travel south into Dorchester, make a hard “left” or turn to the east to arrive at Nantasket Beach, which is almost four miles long. Nantasket is a quiet place today, but in the late nineteenth century it was the place to go swim, and scores of thousands of Bostonians went there on muggy days.

Nova Scotia is one thing, but the City of Québec is quite another. What on earth convinced the Bostonians they could pull off so grand a feat?

      One has to remember that the Bostonians had never been shy. They viewed themselves as the “city on a hill,” there to show the rest of the world how to conduct itself. So in the summer of 1690 Boston collected thirty-two ships of various shapes and sizes and placed 2,200 men aboard. Sir William Phips commanded this, the greatest enterprise New England ever attempted, and the ships sailed from Nantasket on August 9, 1690.

      When was the first American newspaper printed?

      Publick Occurrences issued its first edition on September 25, 1690, while the soldiers were off in Canada. Printed by Benjamin Harris, the four-page newspaper was the first attempt ever made in North America. The opening words tell us something about the times, hinting at the idea that the political quarrels of our own time are nothing new: “That something may be done towards the curing, or at least the charming of that spirit of lying, which prevails among us.” The Puritan authorities did not like some of the language employed, however, and they stopped Harris from ever printing a second edition. Boston had to wait until 1704 to see its first continuing newspaper, the Boston Gazette.

      What happened to the Bostonian expedition to Canada?

      Around November 20, 1690, Sir William Phips (1651–1695) returned. The expedition had come close to success, almost within a hairsbreadth, but as the saying goes, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. The Bostonians failed to conquer Québec City, and perhaps five hundred men were lost, from battle wounds and disease (smallpox struck especially hard on the return voyage). Four of the thirty-two vessels were lost. The Massachusetts General Court hurriedly printed paper currency, the first seen in North America, to pay the costs of the expedition.

      Sir William Phips was the first