Part 7

But all that belongs to a later part of our story, and we must first turn back the pages of history and become better acquainted with that young person whose slippered foot so diverted a man's thoughts from the sermon he had heard preached on that Lord's Day in June.

Pretty Dorothy was the youngest daughter of Edmund Quincy, one of a long line of that same name, who were directly descended from Edmund Quincy, pioneer, who came to America in 1628. Seven years later the town of Boston granted him land in the town that was afterward known as Braintree, Massachusetts, where he built the mansion that became the home of succeeding generations of Quincys, from whom the North End of the town was later named.

As his father had been before him, Dorothy's father was a judge, and he spent a part of each year in his home on Summer Street, Boston, pursuing his profession. There in the Summer Street home Dorothy was born on the tenth of May, 1747, the youngest of ten children. Evidently she was sent to school at an early age, and gave promise of a quick mind even then, for in a letter written by Judge Quincy, from Boston to his wife in the country, he writes:

Daughter Dolly looks very Comfortable, and has gone to School, where she seems to be very high in her Mistresses' graces.

But the happiest memories of Dorothy's childhood and early girlhood were not of Boston, but of months spent in the rambling old mansion at Quincy, which, although it had been remodeled by her grandfather, yet retained its quaint charm, and boasted more than one secret passage and cupboard, as well as a "haunted chamber" without which no house of the period was complete.

There we find the child romping across velvety lawns, picking posies in the box-bordered garden, drinking water crystal clear drawn from the old well, and playing many a prank and game in the big, roomy home which housed such a lively flock of young people. Being the baby of the family, it was natural that Dorothy should be a great pet, not only of her brothers and sisters, but of their friends, especially those young men--some of whom were later the principal men of the Province--who were attracted to the old mansion by Judge Quincy's charming daughters. So persistent was little Dolly's interest in her sisters' friends, that it became a jest among them that he who would woo and win fascinating Esther, sparkling Sarah, or the equally lovely Elizabeth or Katherine Quincy, must first gain the good-will of the little girl who was so much in evidence, many times when the adoring swain would have preferred to see his lady love alone. Dorothy used to tell laughingly in later years of the rides she took on the shoulders of Jonathan Sewall, who married Esther Quincy, of the many small gifts and subtle devices used by other would-be suitors as bribes either to enlist the child's sympathies in gaining their end, or as a reward for her absence at some interesting and sentimental crisis.

Mrs. Quincy, who before her marriage was Elizabeth Wendall, of New York, was in full sympathy with her light-hearted, lively family of boys and girls. Although the household had for its deeper inspiration those Christian principles which were the governing factors in family life of the colonists, and prayers were offered morning and night by the assembled family, while the Sabbath was kept strictly as a day for church-going and quiet reflection, yet the atmosphere of the home was one of hospitable welcome. This made it a popular gathering-place not only for the young people of the neighborhood, but also for more than one youth who came from the town of Boston, ten miles away, attracted by the bevy of girls in the old mansion.

Judge Quincy was not only a devout Christian and a respected member of the community, he was also a fine linguist. He was so well informed on many subjects that, while he was by birth and tradition a Conservative, giving absolute loyalty to the mother country, and desirous of obeying her slightest dictate, yet he was so much more broad-minded than many of his party that he welcomed in his home even those admirers of his daughters who were determined to resist what they termed the unjust commands of the English Government. Among these patriots-to-be who came often to the Quincy home was John Adams, in later days the second President of the United States, and who was a boy of old Braintree and a comrade of John Hancock, whose future history was to be closely linked with the new and independent America. Hancock was, at the time of his first visit to the old Quincy mansion, a brilliant young man, drawn to the Judge's home by an overwhelming desire to see more of pretty Dorothy, whose slippered foot stepping from the old meeting-house had roused his interest. Up to the time when he began to come to the house, little Dorothy was still considered a child by her brothers and sisters, her aims and ambitions were laughed at, if she voiced them, and she was treated as the family pet and plaything rather than a girl rapidly blossoming into very beautiful womanhood.

As she saw one after another of her sisters become engaged to the man of her choice, watched the happy bustle of preparation in the household, then took part in the wedding festivities, and saw the bride pass out of the old mansion to become mistress of a home of her own, Dorothy was quick to perceive the important part played by man in a woman's life, and, young as she was, she felt within herself that power of fascination which was to be hers to so great a degree in the coming years. Dorothy had dark eyes which were wells of feeling when she was deeply moved, her hair was velvet smooth, and also dark, and the play of feelings grave and gay which lighted up her mobile face when in conversation was a constant charm to those who knew the vivacious girl. When she first met John Hancock she had won an enviable popularity by reason of her beauty and grace, and was admired and sought after even more than her sisters had been; yet no compliments or admiration spoiled her sweet naturalness or her charm of manner.

In those days girls married when they were very young, but Dorothy withstood all the adoration which was poured at her feet beyond the time when she might naturally have chosen a husband, because her standards were so high that not one of her admirers came near to satisfying them. But in her heart there was an Ideal Man who had come to occupy the first place in her affection.

As she had sat by her father's side, night after night, listening while John Adams spoke with hot enthusiasm of his friend John Hancock, the boy of Braintree, now a rising young citizen of Boston, the resolute advocate of justice for the colonies, who stood unflinchingly against the demands of the mother country, where he thought them unfair,--the conversation had roused her enthusiasm for this unknown hero, until she silently erected an altar within her heart to this ideal of manly virtues.

Then John Hancock came to the old mansion to seek the girl who had attracted his attention on that Sabbath Day in June, little dreaming that in those conversations which Dorothy had heard between her father and John Adams she had pieced together a complete biography of her Hero. She knew that in 1737, when the Reverend John Hancock was minister of the First Church in the North Precinct of Braintree (afterward Quincy), he had made the following entry in the parish register of births:

JOHN HANCOCK, MY SON, JANUARY 16, 1737.

Dorothy also knew that there in the simple parsonage the minister's son grew up, and together with his brother and sister enjoyed the usual life of a child in the country. When he was seven years old his father died, leaving very little money for the support of the widow and three children. Thomas Hancock, his uncle, was at that time the richest merchant in Boston, and had also married a daughter of a prosperous bookseller who was heir to no small fortune herself. The couple being childless, at the death of John Hancock's father they adopted the boy, who was at once taken from the simple parsonage to Thomas Hancock's mansion on Beacon Hill, which must have seemed like a fairy palace to the minister's son, as he "climbed the grand steps and entered the paneled hall with its broad staircase, carved balusters, and a chiming clock surmounted with carved figures, gilt with burnished gold." There were also portraits of dignitaries on the walls of the great drawing-room, which were very impressive in their lace ruffles and velvet costumes of the period, and many articles of furniture of which the country boy did not even know the names.

As a matter of course, he was sent to the Boston Public Latin School, and later to Harvard College, from which he graduated on July 17, 1754, when he was seventeen years old--at a time when pretty Dorothy Quincy was a child of seven.

From the time of his adoption of his nephew, Thomas Hancock had determined to have him as his successor in the shipping business he had so successfully built up, and so, fresh from college, the young man entered into the business life of Boston, and as the adopted son of a rich and influential merchant, was sought after by mothers with marriageable daughters, and by the daughters themselves, to whose charms he was strangely indifferent.

For six years he worked faithfully and with a good judgment that pleased his uncle, while at the same time he took part in the amusements of the young people of Boston who belonged to the wealthy class, and who copied their diversions from those in vogue among young folk in London. The brilliant and fine-looking young man was in constant demand for riding, hunting, and skating parties, or often in winter for a sleigh-ride to some country tavern, followed by supper and a dance; or in summer for an excursion down the harbor, a picnic on the islands, or a tea-party in the country and a homeward drive by moonlight. Besides these gaieties there were frequent musters of militia, of which Hancock was a member, and he was very fond of shooting and fishing; so with work and play he was more than busy until he was twenty-three years old. Then his uncle sent him to London to give him the advantages of travel and of mingling with "foreign lords of trade and finance," and also to gain a knowledge of business conditions in England. And so, in 1760, young Hancock arrived in London, where he found "old Europe passing into the modern. Victory had followed the English flag in every quarter of the globe, and a new nation was beginning to evolve out of chaos in the American wilderness, which was at that time England's most valuable dependency."

While he was in London George the Second died, and his grandson succeeded to the throne. The unwonted sight of the pomp and splendor of a royal funeral was no slight event in the life of the young colonist, and the keen eyes of John Hancock lost no detail of the imposing ceremonial. He wrote home:

I am very busy in getting myself mourning upon the Occasion of the Death of his late Majesty King George the 2d, to which every person of any Note here Conforms, even to the deepest Mourning.... Everything here is now very dull. All Plays are stopt and no diversions are going forward, so that I am at a loss how to dispose of myself....

A later letter is of interest as it shows something of the habits of a wealthy young man of the period. "Johnny," as his uncle affectionately calls him, writes:

I observe in your Letter you mention a Circumstance in Regard to my dress. I hope it did not Arise from your hearing I was too Extravagant that way, which I think they cant Tax me with. At same time I am not Remarkable for the Plainness of my Dress, upon proper Occasions I dress as Genteel as anyone, and cant say I am without Lace.... I find money some way or other goes very fast, but I think I can Reflect it has been spent with Satisfaction, and to my own honor.... I endeavor to be in Character in all I do, and in all my Expences which are pretty large I have great Satisfaction in the Reflection of their being incurred in Honorable Company and to my Advantage.

Throughout his life good fortune followed John Hancock in matters small and great, and it was a piece of characteristic good luck that he should have been able to remain to see the new King's coronation. He was also presented at Court, as a representative young colonist of high social standing, and was given a snuff-box by His Majesty as a token of his good-will to one of his subjects from across the sea.

Before leaving for home he learned all he could in regard to the commercial relations between England and her colonies, and after hearing the great orator Pitt make a stirring speech against unjust taxation, he realized how much more daring in word and act were some loyal British subjects than the colonists would have thought possible. Doubtless to Pitt the young patriot-to-be owed his first inspiration to serve the colonies, though it bore no fruit for many months.

October of 1761 found young Hancock again in Boston, and a year later he was taken into partnership with his uncle. This gave him a still greater vogue among the Boston belles who admired him for his strength of character and for his fine appearance, as he was noted for being the best dressed young man in Boston at that time. It is said that "his taste was correct, his judgment of quality unsurpassed, and his knowledge of fashions in London aided by recent residence there." We are told that "a gold-laced coat of broadcloth, red, blue or violet; a white-satin waistcoat embroidered; velvet breeches, green, lilac or blue; white-silk stockings and shoes flashing with buckles of silver or gold; linen trimmed with lace," made the prosperous young merchant outshine others of his position, "and made it appear that by birth at least he belonged to the wealthy and fashionably conservative class."

His uncle was indeed such a strong Conservative that he was unwilling to have his adopted son show any leaning to the radical party. But when on the first of August, 1764, Thomas Hancock died of apoplexy, leaving his Beacon Hill mansion and fifty thousand dollars to his widow, Lydia Hancock, and to John his warehouses, ships, and the residue of his estate, in the twinkling of an eye the young man became a prominent factor in the business world of the day, as the sole owner of an extensive export and import trade. But more important to him than the fortune which he had inherited was the knowledge that he was now at liberty to speak and act in accordance with his own feelings in regard to matters about which his views were slowly but surely changing.

He was now twenty-seven years old, and on paying a flying visit to his friend John Adams, in the home of his early childhood, attended divine service in his father's old church, and thrilled at the glimpse he had of Judge Quincy's youngest daughter, Dorothy, demurely leaving the meeting-house. Dolly was then seventeen years of age, and as lovely in her girlish beauty as any rose that ever bloomed, and John Hancock's feeling of interest in her was far too keen to allow that glimpse to be his last.

He and John Adams visited the Quincy homestead, and young Hancock listened respectfully to the Judge's reminiscences of his father; but at the same time he watched pretty Dorothy, who flitted in and out of the room, giving no hint of her emotion at having an opportunity to listen to the deep voice and note the clear-cut features and brilliant eyes of the Hero of her dreams. She only cast her eyes down demurely, glancing from under her long lashes now and again, when a remark was addressed to her. She was quick to see that her father, while as cordial to his visitor as good breeding demanded, yet wished him to feel that he was not in sympathy with the radical views now openly expressed by the young Boston merchant. Judge Quincy, as we have seen, was a broad-minded, patriotic man, yet being by birth a staunch Conservative, he felt it his duty to show the younger generation what real loyalty to the mother country meant, and that it did not include such rebellion against her commands as they were beginning to express. However, he chatted pleasantly with Hancock and his friend Adams, and when they took their leave, Hancock was invited both to call on the family in Boston and to return to the Quincy homestead. Dorothy seconded the invitation with a momentary lifting of her eyes to his, then became demure, but in the glance that passed between them something was given and taken which was to last for all time, and to add its deepest joy to the future life of pretty Dorothy.

It was certainly love at first sight for John Hancock, and to the young girl his love soon became the one worth-while thing in life.