“Nothing,” said Mr. Morson. Perhaps he remembered Totopotomoi and his sorrowing Queen. “Then we will give you what we value most,” and the chief presented to Mr. Morson the crown of the Queen of the Pamunkeys. For three generations it remained in the Morson family, and then it was purchased by the Association for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities. The crown is really a frontlet, and the Queen of the Pamunkeys wore it upon her brow, surmounted by a red velvet cap, long since destroyed by moths, and bound to her head by two silver chains. VI HOW A BLACKSMITH’S BOY BECAME A KNIGHT The Treasure-hunt of William Phipps in the late Seventeenth Century Sir William Phipps, Baronet; Captain in the Royal Navy; Captain-General and Commander-in-Chief of Massachusetts Bay; Governor of Massachusetts. What do you think of all these titles for one man to wear? Surely, you say, he must naturally have been a great man to deserve so much distinction; and again you say that the conditions of his life must account for such honors; that he must have been of gentle birth, reared in luxury, his education carefully attended by excellent masters, and great influence brought to bear upon his King to advance him so far on the high-road of fame. Well, let us see if facts will sustain this thought. William Phipps was born February 2, 1650, in a wretched log house on the banks of the Kennebec River. His father, an honest but ignorant blacksmith, was more dependent upon his rifle and fishing-line to supply his family with food than upon the occasional shilling that found its way into the smoke-begrimed interior of his rude workshop. Without education himself, the father was unable to instruct his children beyond the simplest rules of arithmetic and the plainest spelling and reading, but these he drilled them in as perseveringly as he did in the terrifying religious catechism of that day. In the course of years, when William developed into a robust, courageous lad, he shared with his parents the duties of providing for his sisters and brothers by either shouldering the heavy fire-arm and plunging into the dark Maine forests in quest of game, or in taking his father’s place and beating out the iron sparks, while the sturdy smith dropped a temptingly baited hook into the swiftly flowing stream. In the year 1676, in his twenty-seventh year, the hero of our story received his parents’ blessing, and left home for the purpose of seeking his fortune. With a hopeful heart and an exceedingly light pocket, he made his way to Boston, and found employment in the blacksmith-shop of one Roger Spencer, whose pretty daughter Charity soon won the heart of her father’s handsome, stalwart helper. So far we fail to find very much in the way of gentle birth, luxury, education, and influence. But then, you may ask, how, under such circumstances, could he ever have risen so high? Let us follow his career.