“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most HighShall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge, and my strength.My God, in Him will I trust.”
“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most HighShall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge, and my strength.My God, in Him will I trust.”
In white garments, without adornment, Ruth Newville courtesied to Lord Upperton the following evening as he entered the parlor. Never before had she seemed to him, or to her father and mother, so beautiful, so sweet, and pure.
“Miss Newville,” he said, “I take it for granted that you have been duly informed of the purpose of my visit this evening.”
“I have, my lord.”
“I come to offer you my hand and heart. I have been charmed by your qualities of character and your beauty, and I fain would make you mistress of Halford Castle. I am soon to return to England, and I desire to take you with me as my bride. I have received the gracious permission of your honored parents to begin my suit, and I fondly hope that I may receive an affirmative answer from your lips.”
“My lord, I am not insensible of the honor you confer upon me, but I am not worthy of it. I am an obscure girl. I am not fitted to fill the exalted station in which you desire to place me.”
“Pardon me, Miss Newville, I have met many afair maiden, but none so charming as the flower which I desire to transplant from the Colonies to old England. My best judgment has selected you from them all.”
“My lord, I appreciate your kind words, and what you would give me—your honor, respect, and love, and an exalted social position. I have heard from your lips somewhat concerning the life you would expect me to lead,—the society in which you would have me move. I trust you will pardon my frankness, but it does not attract me.”
“I can quite understand you, dear Miss Newville; it is natural that you should shrink from such a change, but I am sure you would adorn the position.”
“More than what I have said, my lord, I do not think I should be happy in such a position.”
“Oh, I think you would. Certainly, it would be my desire to place before you every advantage that could contribute to your welfare and happiness. The nobility of the realm would follow in your train. You would captivate them with your grace and beauty. No party, rout, or ball would be complete without you. I am sure that her most gracious majesty the queen would desire your presence at court to grace her receptions.”
“You flatter me, my lord, but I do not think that fine dressing, the adornment of pearls and diamonds, promenading, dancing, card playing, and masquerading would give me the highest happiness. I think that life has a nobler meaning. I should despise myself if I made them the end and aim of my existence.”
Lord Upperton could not quite comprehend her.He was aware that across the sea many a mamma was laying her plans to make her daughter mistress of Halford, and the daughters had looked at him with languishing eyes, but here was a girl, guileless and pure, who was putting aside the great boon he would gladly bestow upon her. He must set before her the greatness of the gift. He described his estate—its parks, meadows, groves of oak, the herds of deer, flocks of pheasants; the rooms of the castle, the baronial hall, with antlers nailed upon the beams and rafters, banners that had been carried by ancestors at Crécy and Agincourt. He pictured life in London, scenes in Parliament, the queen’s drawing-rooms, the pageantry and etiquette at St. James’s. Miss Newville heard him in silence.
“Whatever there is to be had, whatever will contribute to your happiness, I shall lay at your feet, dear Miss Newville.”
What should she say to him? How inform him that all the pageantry of King George’s court, all the wealth inherited from his ancestors, was of little account in her esteem when set against eternal verities, and one of those verities was fidelity to the conviction that she must be true to herself.
“My lord,” she said, “you may think me unappreciative; you may regard me as strange, but I must be true to myself. I cannot do violence to my better nature. I cannot barter my convictions. I could honor and respect you, but something more would be your due; that I could not give you. I could not make you happy, and I should forever despise myself.”
It was spoken clearly, distinctly, but with a tremorof voice and a flush upon her cheek that heightened her beauty. Lord Upperton sat in silence, pondering her words. It was dawning upon him that a girl of the Colonies had rejected his suit. He had come to her with his castle, his ancestry, his title, his position as a peer of the realm, but she had put them all aside. Not with them could he win his suit. Instead of accepting what he had to give, she stood calm, serene, beautiful, radiant, and pure, upon a height so far above him that he never could stand by her side. The silence was embarrassing.
“Miss Newville,” he said, rising and standing before her, “your answer is painful to me. I had anticipated the winning of your hand and heart. It had not occurred to me that I should fail. I appreciate what you have said. A loftier ideal of the nobleness of true womanhood has come to me. My honor, respect, and love for you are deeper than ever, but I see that what I desired cannot be. I bid you farewell.”
She courtesied to his bow, and extended her hand. He touched it to his lips, and passed from the room.
Her head was pressing her pillow once more. The bell struck the midnight hour. Once more she heard the watchman’s voice.
“Twelve o’clock, and all is well.”
“Yes, all is well,” she said,—and her sleep for the night was calm and peaceful.
On the evening of October 29, 1773, the Sons of Liberty again assembled at the Green Dragon. A ship had dropped anchor during the day off Castle William, bringing the news that Parliament had passed a law taxing tea. Ever watchful for the welfare of the people, they came together to hear what the London newspapers and their friends in England had to say about it, in letters which Samuel Adams had received. The night being cool, the landlord lighted a fire to warm the room, and enable those who might like a mug of flip to heat the loggerhead in the glowing coals. Upon the table, as usual, were the punch-bowl, crackers, cheese, tobacco, and pipes. Mr. Adams seated himself by the table and opened a letter.
“It is from Mr. Benjamin Franklin,” he said, “who writes that Parliament has passed a law levying three pence per pound on tea. It is not to be collected here, as on other articles, but the merchant who ships it is to pay the duty. It is a very adroit attempt to collect revenue. The consignees in the Colonies, of course, will add the amount in their sales, and so the revenue will be collected without any agency on the part of the Custom Houses.”
“I suppose,” said Doctor Warren, “Lord Northand the whole British nation think we are such simpletons, we shall not see the cat in the meal.”
“It is an insidious act,” Mr. Adams resumed, “intended to undermine the political virtue of the people. Two years ago our wives and daughters exhibited their allegiance to lofty principles by signing an agreement not to drink tea until the obnoxious laws then existing were repealed. Lord North laughed at the time, but he has discovered that the people of the Colonies can be loyal to a great principle. The East India Company’s receipts have fallen off at the rate of five hundred thousand pounds value per annum. The company has seventeen million pounds of tea stored in London, intended for the Colonies, and for which there is no market. It owes the government a vast sum. The merchants who have grown rich out of their profits in the past are not receiving any dividends. The shares of the company, which a few months ago were quoted at high rates, have become unsalable. Parliament has repealed the obnoxious laws for taxing the Colonies, and passed this act, doubtless thinking that, so long as we do not pay it directly into the Custom House, we shall acquiesce and go to drinking tea again. And there is where the danger lies. We have been so true to our convictions the revenue received from its sale last year in all the Colonies was only fifteen hundred pounds. It is very humiliating to the king and ministry to turn to the other side of the ledger and find that it has cost several hundred thousand pounds to maintain the troops sent to the Colonies to aid in enforcing the revenue laws upon a reluctant people. This new act, by having all thecustoms machinery in England, will have a tendency to seduce the people from their allegiance to a great principle. How to thwart the plans of the ministry is the all-important question for us to consider. Mr. Franklin writes that several vessels are soon to leave London for different colonial ports—three of them for Boston.”
“There is an old song,” said Doctor Warren, “about a crafty old spider inviting a silly little fly into his parlor. I don’t believe the fly will accept the invitation this time.”
“The consignees,” said Mr. Adams, “are Elisha and Thomas Hutchinson, the governor’s two sons; Richard Clark and sons, Benjamin Faneuil, Junior, and Joshua Winslow,—all honorable merchants; but their sympathies, as we know, are not with the people. If we allow the tea to be landed, I fear the consequences. We must not permit the levying of a tax, without our consent, in any form.”
“I move,” said John Rowe, “that we do not permit the landing of any tea.”
The meeting voted to adopt the motion. The formal business ended, they refilled their pipes, helped themselves to crackers and cheese, punch and flip.
Berinthia Brandon, the following week, could not understand why Tom wanted Dinah to make him a pot of paste; nor why he was out so late at night,—not getting home till three o’clock in the morning. None of the watchmen, going their rounds, saw anybody pasting handbills on the walls of the houses, but everybody saw the bills in the morning.
TO THE FREEMEN OF THIS AND NEIGHBORING TOWNS.Gentlemen,—You are desired to meet at Liberty Tree, this day at twelve o’clock noon, then and there to hear the persons to whom the tea shipped by the East India Company is consigned make a public resignation of their office on oath as consignees; and also swear that they will reship any tea that may be consigned to them by said company, by the first vessel sailing for London.O. C.Secretary.Boston, Nov.3, 1773.Show us the man that dare take this down!!!!!
TO THE FREEMEN OF THIS AND NEIGHBORING TOWNS.
Gentlemen,—You are desired to meet at Liberty Tree, this day at twelve o’clock noon, then and there to hear the persons to whom the tea shipped by the East India Company is consigned make a public resignation of their office on oath as consignees; and also swear that they will reship any tea that may be consigned to them by said company, by the first vessel sailing for London.
O. C.Secretary.
Boston, Nov.3, 1773.
Show us the man that dare take this down!!!!!
Early in the morning the town crier was jingling his bell and calling upon the people to be at the Liberty Tree at the appointed hour. Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Doctor Warren, and William Molineux were there, and a great crowd. The consignees were assembled in Richard Clark’s store. The people voted to choose a committee to inform them that, if they did not resign or pledge themselves not to land the tea, they would be regarded as the enemies of their country. William Molineux, Doctor Warren, and six others were chosen.
A great crowd accompanied the committee. Governor Hutchinson, looking out upon them from the window of the council chamber, saw that they were the foremost men of Boston. The consignees were in Richard Clark’s store, and the door was locked.
“From whom are you a committee,” asked Clark, opening a window.
“From the whole people.”
“I shall have nothing to do with you.”
“Then you will be regarded as an enemy of your country,” replied Molineux.
“Out with them!” cried somebody.
“Hold on. Don’t let us make fools of ourselves,” said Tom Brandon.
There was a murmuring in the crowd.
“In the king’s name, I command you to disperse,” said the sheriff, stepping forward.
It was not he, however, but Doctor Warren, who, by a wave of his hand, stilled the people, and persuaded them to depart.
On Sunday morning, November 29, Tom Brandon, looking with the telescope, saw a ship at Nantasket, and knew by the signals that it was the Dartmouth, Captain Hall. When meeting was over at noon, he called upon Doctor Warren and found him writing a circular to be sent to the surrounding towns, asking the people to assemble on Monday morning in Faneuil Hall. Tom took the writing to the printing office of Edes & Gill in Queen Street, and a printer quickly put it in type. On Monday morning the people of Boston, Charlestown, Cambridge, and all surrounding towns were reading it.
FRIENDS! COUNTRYMEN! BROTHERS!The worst of plagues, the detested tea, shipped for this port by the East India Company, has arrived. The hour of destruction or manly opposition to the machinations of tyranny stares you in the face. Every friend to his country, to himself, and posterityis now called upon to meet at Faneuil Hall at nine o’clock this day, at which time the bells will ring, to make a united resistance to this last, worst, and most destructive measure of administration!Boston, Nov.30, 1773.
FRIENDS! COUNTRYMEN! BROTHERS!
The worst of plagues, the detested tea, shipped for this port by the East India Company, has arrived. The hour of destruction or manly opposition to the machinations of tyranny stares you in the face. Every friend to his country, to himself, and posterityis now called upon to meet at Faneuil Hall at nine o’clock this day, at which time the bells will ring, to make a united resistance to this last, worst, and most destructive measure of administration!
Boston, Nov.30, 1773.
The bells rang. The people surged into Faneuil Hall. There was a crowd in the square around the building,—so many people that they adjourned to the Old South Meetinghouse, where they voted that the tea must go back to England, and that twenty-five men should keep watch day and night, to prevent its being landed. The meeting adjourned till Tuesday morning to hear what the consignees would do.
Through the night Abraham Duncan and the other watchmen patrolled the wharves. The Dartmouth had sailed up the harbor and was riding at anchor.
A great crowd filled the meetinghouse at nine o’clock Tuesday. The moderator read a letter from Richard Clark and the other consignees, who said they could not send the tea back, but would put it in their stores till they could hear from the East India Company.
“No! no! no!” shouted the people, who were more than ever determined that it should not be landed.
Tom saw the sheriff, with his sword by his side, as the emblem of authority, enter the meetinghouse, with a paper in his hand.
“It is from his excellency, the governor,” said the sheriff, bowing to the moderator.
“We don’t want to hear it,” shouted the people.
“We are assembled in orderly town meeting. Ithink we had better hear what the governor has to communicate,” said Samuel Adams, and the great audience became silent. Tom’s blood began to boil as the sheriff read:—
“You are openly violating, defying, and setting at nought the good and wholesome laws of the Province under which you live. I warn you, exhort, and require each of you, thus unlawfully assembled, forthwith to disperse, and to surcease all further unlawful proceedings at your utmost peril.”
Tom, and all around him hissed.
“We won’t disperse till we’ve done our business,” shouted a man in the centre of the house.
“We will attend to our affairs, and Tommy Hutchinson may mind his own business,” cried another.
“Let us hear from Mr. Rotch,” the shout.
Mr. Rotch, a young merchant, wearing a broad-brimmed hat, and who owned the Dartmouth, rose.
“I am willing the tea should go back without being landed,” he said.
The people clapped their hands.
“Hall! Hall! Let us hear from Captain Hall,” they cried.
The captain of the Dartmouth, sunburned by exposure, said it made no difference to him. He would just as soon carry the tea back as anything else. Once more the people decided the tea should not be brought on shore. To prevent its being landed it was voted that the watch should be maintained; that if the attempt was made by day, the meetinghouse bells would ring, if by night, they were to toll.
A few days later, the Beaver, commanded by CaptainCoffin, and the Elenor, commanded by Captain Bruce, arrived. Tom, once more looking down the harbor, saw the warship Kingfisher drop down below the Castle and anchor in the channel; also the Active. He understood the meaning of the movement—that the governor did not intend the ships should depart with the tea on board. He knew things would soon come to a head, for under the law, unless a vessel discharged its cargo within twenty days after arriving in port, the ship and cargo would be confiscated. Once more the people assembled, electing Thomas Savage moderator, and passing a vote directing Mr. Rotch to ask the collector to clear the Dartmouth for London.
Rain was falling, and the wind east, rolling the waves into the harbor, on the morning of December 16. Unmindful of the storm, people from Boston and all the surrounding towns were gathering in the Old South Meetinghouse. Little did the farthest sighted among them comprehend that the fullness of time had come for the opening of a mighty drama; that the bell up in the tower was heralding the beginning of a new era in human government.
Tom and Abraham found seats in the gallery. After prayer, Samuel Adams said the committee appointed at a previous meeting had called upon the collector, with Mr. Rotch, asking him to clear the Dartmouth, but the request was not granted.
“We all know,” he continued, “that the twenty days will expire at twelve o’clock to-night. After that hour the Dartmouth will be moored under the guns of Admiral Montague’s warships, and will betaken possession of by a party of marines. I therefore move that Mr. Rotch be directed to enter his protest at the Custom House, and that he be further directed by this meeting to apply to Governor Hutchinson for a permit that shall allow the Dartmouth to pass the Castle and sail for London.”
“All in favor of that motion will say aye,” said the moderator.
“Aye!” thundered the floor, galleries, aisles, and pulpit stairs.
“All opposed will say no.”
The silence was so profound that Tom could hear his heart beat.
“This meeting stands adjourned to three o’clock,” said the moderator, and the great crowd thereupon surged into the streets. Some went to the Cromwell’s Head; others to the Bunch of Grapes, White Lamb, Tun and Bacchus, drank mugs of flip, and warmed themselves by the bright wood-fires blazing on the hearths. The meeting had adjourned to give Mr. Rotch time to jump into his chaise and ride out to Milton to see Governor Hutchinson.
Tom and Abraham walked towards the Cromwell’s Head. They were surprised and delighted to meet Roger Stanley.
“I didn’t hear of the meeting till last evening,” said Roger, “and I have come in to see what is going on.”
The rain had drenched his clothes.
“See here, Roger, you are wet to the skin; you must have some toddy. Come along, I’ll stand treat,” said Tom.
They entered the Cromwell’s Head, and each took a glass of flip, then made their way to the Long Room in Queen Street. Climbing the stairs, Tom rapped on a door. A moment later a panel opened, and a nose, mouth, and eyes appeared. Tom gave another rap which the nose, mouth, and eyes seemed to understand, for the door opened, and they passed in and it closed behind them.
Several of the Sons of Liberty were already there. Some were smoking pipes, others sipping mugs of hot punch. Edward Preston was sitting at a table writing.
“The sachem has just finished his proclamation, and is going to read it,” said Henry Purkett.
The room became still, and Preston read what he had written.
Abrant Kan-ak-ar-a-toph-qua, Chief Sachem of the Mohawks, King of the Six Nations and Lord of all their Castles, etc., etc., to all Liege Subjects. Health.Whereas, tea is an Indian Plant and of right belongs to the Indians of every land and tribe; and whereas, our good allies, the English, have in lieu of it given us that pernicious liquor, Rum, which they have poured down our throats to steal away our brains; and whereas, the English have learned the most expeditious way or method of drawing an infusion of saidTea, without the expense of wood or trouble of fire, to the benefit and emolument of the East India trade, and, as vastly greater quantities may be used by that method than by that heretofore practicedin this country, and therefore help to support the East India Company under the present melancholy circumstances:Therefore, we of our certain knowledge, special grace, and mere motion will permit or allow any of our liege subjects to barter, buy, or procure of any of our English allies,Teasof any kind:providedalways each man can purchase not less than ten nor more than one hundred and fourteen boxes at a time and those the property of the East India Company; andprovidedalso that they pour the same into the lakes, rivers, and ponds, that, while our subjects in their hunting, instead of slaking their thirst with cold water, they may do it with tea.Of all which our subjects will take notice and govern themselves accordingly. By command,To-ne-ter-a-que.
Abrant Kan-ak-ar-a-toph-qua, Chief Sachem of the Mohawks, King of the Six Nations and Lord of all their Castles, etc., etc., to all Liege Subjects. Health.
Whereas, tea is an Indian Plant and of right belongs to the Indians of every land and tribe; and whereas, our good allies, the English, have in lieu of it given us that pernicious liquor, Rum, which they have poured down our throats to steal away our brains; and whereas, the English have learned the most expeditious way or method of drawing an infusion of saidTea, without the expense of wood or trouble of fire, to the benefit and emolument of the East India trade, and, as vastly greater quantities may be used by that method than by that heretofore practicedin this country, and therefore help to support the East India Company under the present melancholy circumstances:
Therefore, we of our certain knowledge, special grace, and mere motion will permit or allow any of our liege subjects to barter, buy, or procure of any of our English allies,Teasof any kind:providedalways each man can purchase not less than ten nor more than one hundred and fourteen boxes at a time and those the property of the East India Company; andprovidedalso that they pour the same into the lakes, rivers, and ponds, that, while our subjects in their hunting, instead of slaking their thirst with cold water, they may do it with tea.
Of all which our subjects will take notice and govern themselves accordingly. By command,
To-ne-ter-a-que.
“Attention, braves,” said the sachem. “Each subject will provide himself with a tomahawk and be at the wigwam one hour after candle-lighting to-night, prepared to carry out the proclamation. The tribe will remember that the Mohawks do not talk much, but do in silence what they have to do.”
They heard the proclamation in silence, and one by one took their departure. Roger said he would be in the Old South Meetinghouse at three o’clock to hear the result of the visit of Mr. Rotch to Governor Hutchinson.
“I doubt if I shall be there; I may have an engagement early in the evening,” said Tom.
Abraham Duncan said the same.
“I went down to the shipyard this morning and got two tomahawks. They are in my chamber, together with the feathers and war-paint and the other things. Come round early, Abe,” said Tom as they parted.
Again at three o’clock a great crowd filled the meetinghouse. The clouds had rolled away, and the setting sun was throwing its beams upon the gilded weather-vane when Roger Stanley entered the building. It was so full that he could only stand in one of the aisles. The moderator was reading letters from the selectmen of the surrounding towns, saying that they would stand by Boston in whatever might be done to prevent the landing of the tea.
“Their letters,” said William Molineux, rising in one of the front pews, “are all very well; they show the determined spirit of our fellow-citizens; but we must have a committee whose duty it shall be to prevent the landing of the tea. I move the appointment of such a committee.”
The meeting voted that a committee should be appointed.
The evening shades were falling and the housewives lighting their candles. In the Brandon house Tom and Abraham were putting on Indian uniforms which Mr. Brandon years before brought home from the tribes along the shores of the St. Lawrence—buckskin breeches and coats, fur caps trimmed with eagle’s feathers. Tom tripped upstairs to the garret, and returned with a bunch of garget berries, with which they stained their faces and hands.
“You look just like Indians,” said Berinthia.
“Say nothing to nobody as to what you have seen, ’Rinth,” said Tom, as he closed the door and walked with Abraham rapidly along the street.
In the Old South Meetinghouse Josiah Quincy was speaking. The sexton brought in two tallow candles and placed them on the table before the moderator. There was a stir at the door—a commotion—a turning of necks in the pews, as the young merchant, Mr. Rotch, entered the building. Many in the audience thought he had been lukewarm in his desire to have the tea sent back to London, and were ready to hiss at him.
“Let us be just,” said Doctor Young. “Let no one utter a word against our fellow-citizen. He is doing all it is possible for him to do to have the detested tea sent back.”
The murmuring ceased as Samuel Adams addressed him:—
“Will you, Mr. Rotch, send the Dartmouth back to London with the tea on board?”
“Were I to make the attempt in compliance with the request of the people it would be my ruin.”
Roger and all around him saw what they had not seen before, that were he to make the effort his ship would be seized and himself arrested, and in all probability sent to England to be tried for treason.
“Who knows how tea will mix with salt water?” shouted John Rowe.
“Let us treat the fishes to a cup of tea,” shouted another, and the windows rattled with their stamping.
“Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!”
It was a yell from the street.
“Let the meeting be in order. It is a trick of our enemies to distract us,” shouted some one.
“Order, gentlemen!” cried the moderator.
“Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!”
Longer and louder the yell.
“The Mohawks! the Mohawks!” the cry at the door.
Those in the galleries left their seats and hastened down the stairs. People were rising in the pews and crowding the aisles.
“This meeting can do no more,” said Mr. Adams, and he declared it adjourned.
The people saw forty or fifty Indians who had suddenly appeared upon the street. Where they came from no one knew, but they were rapidly making their way to Griffin’s Wharf where the ships were lying. Roger Stanley and a great number of citizens followed them. The sentinels with muskets on their shoulders, keeping watch over the ships, made no effort to stop the Mohawks. Roger saw the ship Dartmouth alongside the wharf and the Elenor and Beaver a little distance from it. The chief leaped on board the Dartmouth. The captain was on the quarter-deck; the crew huddled at the bow were astonished to see Indians with tomahawks climbing over the sides of the vessel.
“The Mohawks will unload your tea. Please direct your men to open the hatches and then order them below into the forecastle,” said the chief, addressing the captain. “You will retire to your cabin. The Mohawks will not injure your ship or do you any harm.”
It was spoken resolutely and in such good English that the captain understood every word. The sailors lifted the hatches, provided hoisting tackle, and disappeared down the forward hatchway, and the captain retired to his cabin. Roger saw an Indian run up the shrouds by the mainmast and hitch a tackle. He thought the savage had some resemblance to Tom Brandon. He also saw by the light of the moon, near its first quarter, that while one party of savages were at work upon the Dartmouth, others were warping the Elenor and the Beaver to the dock. It was nearly low tide, and the waves were swashing the timbers beneath the wharf. Not far away lay the Romney with her cannon peeping from the portholes. Very quietly the Mohawks began their work, hoisting chests from the hold, cutting them with hatchets, pouring the contents over the sides of the vessels. Roger felt a desire to take part in the work. Running to a blacksmith’s shop, he smeared his face and hands with charcoal, took off his coat, turned it inside out, put it on, leaped on board the ship, seized a hatchet, smashed the chests, and tumbled them overboard. The Indians worked in silence. The clock was striking ten when the last chest was thrown into the dock. Their work finished, the chief rapped upon the cabin door, and the captain opened it.
“We have discharged your tea, captain, but we have disturbed nothing else. If we have we will cheerfully pay the damage.”
The captain thanked him for being so considerate.
Tom, Abraham, and Roger, and the other Indians, walked up the street past the house of NathanielCoffin, his majesty’s receiver-general. His eldest son, Isaac, one of Tom’s schoolmates, had just sailed for England, Admiral Montague having obtained a commission for him in the king’s navy, but John, the younger brother, was at home.
Admiral Montague was there standing by an open window.
“Well, boys, you have had a fine, pleasant evening for your Indian caper; but don’t forget, you will have to pay the fiddler by and by.”
“Oh, never mind, admiral, we are ready to pay him now,” Tom replied.
The other Indians laughed as the admiral closed the window and turned away.
Very quietly the Mohawks separated. Abraham went to his own house, Roger went with Tom. They were soon in their chamber washing the garget stains and charcoal from their faces and hands.
“Rat-a-tat-tat!” went the knocker on the door.
They heard feet tripping over the stairs and then Berinthia’s voice. “Oh, Tom, the officers are at the door. Put out your light. Let me have your Indian clothes. Get to bed, quick.”
Tom raised the window, emptied the water from the bowl into the alley behind the house, handed his Indian suit to Berinthia, put out the light, and jumped into bed. Captain Brandon was not at home, having gone to Maine to obtain timber for the building of a ship. Berinthia returned to her room, lifted the sheets and blankets, tucked Tom’s suit safely away between the feather bed and the straw mattress beneath it.
“Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!” went the knocker, louder than before. Tom heard Berinthia’s window open.
“Who’s there, and what is wanted?” It was Berinthia speaking.
“Is Captain Brandon at home?” asked one of the men at the door.
“He is not. He is in Maine.”
“We want to search your house.”
“Why do you wish to search it?”
“An outrage has been committed, and we believe that his son had a hand in it!”
“My brother is in bed, and a friend is spending the night with him; but I will go and tell him.”
Several minutes passed before Tom could strike a light with the tinder-box, put on his clothes, and get to the door. Before descending the stairs he looked in the glass to see that the stains had been wholly removed from his face, and examined the floor to ascertain that no tea-leaves had been dropped from their clothing. He then descended the stairs and opened the door.
“Good-evening. What is it you wish?” he said.
“You are Tom Brandon, are you not?” asked one of the officers.
“That is my name.”
“It is believed, Mr. Brandon, that you were one of the party who poured the tea into the harbor this evening, and we have come to search for evidence.”
“Come right in, gentlemen.”
The officers stepped into the hall.
“This is the parlor, here is the sitting-room, andbeyond it is the pantry. I don’t think you will find much tea, for we quit drinking it three years ago, and haven’t had any since,” said Tom.
“Shall we see your chamber, Mr. Brandon?”
“Certainly; you will find my old schoolmate, Roger Stanley of Concord, in bed, but he won’t mind.”
They climbed the stairs, entered the chamber, asked Mr. Stanley’s pardon for intruding, took a look at the washbowl, opened a clothespress, got down on their knees and looked at the floor, to see if they could find any tea.
“Here is another chamber, my sister’s; she spoke to you from the window. You will hardly think of entering the room till she has had time to put on her dress.”
“Oh, no; we would not be so rude as to enter her chamber. We do not suppose she had anything to do with it,” said the officers.
“Will you not take a look at the garret?” Tom asked.
“No. You have covered your tracks so well, I do not suppose we should find anything.”
“Thank you. If, as you say, I had a hand in it, I regard it quite a compliment that I have covered my tracks so well,” Tom replied, as the officers took their departure. He went upstairs and opened the door to Berinthia’s chamber a little.
“’Rinth, you are the best girl that ever lived,” he said.
“Oh, Tom, you did that splendidly,” she replied.
There was merry laughter from her lips as he closed the door and returned to his chamber.
The summer of 1774 was waning. Once more Robert Walden was on his way to Boston. The wagon which Jenny and Paul were dragging was loaded with bags filled with corn and rye, not to be sold in the market, but a gift from Joshua Walden and his fellow-citizens of Rumford to the people of Boston. Parliament, in retaliation for the destruction of the tea, had passed an act closing the port to commerce.[50]After the first day of June, no vessels other than those of the navy could enter or depart from the harbor. Fishermen could no longer catch cod or mackerel for the market. Farmers on the banks of the Mystic could not dig potatoes from their fields and transport them down the river on the ebbing tide to the town dock. The people of Charlestown could not gather cabbages from their gardens, take themacross the ferry, and peddle them in Boston. Only by the road leading to Roxbury could the suffering people be supplied with food. Besides closing the port, Parliament had abolished the charter of Massachusetts. The people no longer could elect thirty-six councilors; they were to be appointed by the king, instead. No more could they lawfully assemble in town meeting to elect representatives to the legislature. All rights and privileges were swept away.
It was near sunset when Robert turned into the highway leading from Roxbury to Boston. He was surprised to find fortifications—a ditch and embankment and cannon mounted upon it—at the narrowest part of the Neck. The sentinels glared at him, but did not offer any insult.[51]He knew several regiments of troops had already arrived, and it was reported that others would soon be sent from England to enforce the laws. He drove slowly along the street, past the Liberty Tree. A half dozen citizens were sitting on the benches beneath it smoking their pipes. There were few people but many soldiers in the streets. He watered the horses at the pump, then drove to the Green Dragon.
It was a hearty welcome which he received in the Brandon home.
“You find us under the harrow,” said Mr. Brandon. “The king and ministry are determined to crush the life out of us. All business has stopped. Grass is growing in the streets. Ship-carpenters,joiners, blacksmiths, ropemakers, are idle; no one has any work for them. Thousands have already left town, and others are going. Nobody can earn a penny, and we are all growing poorer. We should starve in a short time were it not for the kindness and benevolence of the people. We are receiving contributions of food from everywhere. Doctor Warren, John Hancock, and a large number of our public-spirited citizens are distributing the gifts.”
Tom said he was aiding the committee, looking after the poor. Not only were kind-hearted people sending grain, but flocks and herds.
“Only yesterday,” he said, “Colonel Israel Putnam, who served in the French and Indian war, arrived with a flock of sheep from Connecticut. Day before yesterday a sloop dropped anchor in Salem harbor, loaded with corn contributed by the people of North Carolina. It will be teamed into Boston. The Marblehead fishermen have just sent between two and three hundred quintals of codfish. The committee has received a letter from Mr. Gadsden of South Carolina, expressing the hope that we never will pay a cent for the blasted tea. As evidence that South Carolina is with us, he sent one hundred casks of rice, contributed by his fellow-citizens, shipping it to Providence, to be hauled the rest of the way by teams. The people of Baltimore loaded a vessel with three thousand bushels of corn, twenty barrels of rye flour, and as many of shipbread. Herds of cattle and flocks of sheep are driven in every day. The town of Lebanon, Connecticut, sent three hundred and seventy sheep; Norwich, two hundred and ninety; Groton, one hundredsheep and twenty-six fat cattle. Two schooners have arrived at Salem, bringing three thousand bushels of corn from Maryland. Another vessel brought one thousand bushels from Virginia.”
“These contributions,” said Mr. Brandon, “show that the people of the Colonies, or at least a large portion of them, sympathize with us in our resistance to tyranny.”
“You have not told me about Rachel; is she well?” Berinthia asked.
Robert informed her she was quite well, and hard at work as usual.
“I suppose she is spinning for herself, these days?” said Berinthia, smiling.
“Yes, I dare say; she has been making sheets and pillow-cases since Roger Stanley was in Rumford.”
“She has written me about him, and thinks there is nobody else in the world so good as he. I’m glad they are engaged. She is just the one for him and he for her.”
There was one person whom Robert wished to know about, who had been in his thoughts through every step of his journey. How should he ask about Miss Newville without revealing his interest in her? How ascertain if she were well: if her heart was still her own?
“I suppose the arbitrary acts of Parliament may have brought about estrangements between old-time friends,” he said.
“Yes, former friendships are being broken. Many of my old acquaintances do not speak to me.”
“Is it so bad as that?”
“Yes, families are being divided. Fathers and mothers taking sides with the king, sons and daughters standing resolutely for the rights of the people. You remember that sweet girl, Lucy Flucker, whom you met at Miss Newville’s garden party?”
“Yes, a lovely lady.”
“Her father is secretary of the Colony, and of course sides with the king, but she is soon to be married to the bookseller, Mr. Knox, greatly against the wishes of the family; not because he is not worthy of her, but because he opposes the king and his ministers,” said Berinthia.
“Are you and Miss Newville still friends?”
“Yes, just as good friends as ever. Her father, of course, is a Tory, and her mother is a red-hot one, but Ruth keeps her own counsel. You can have no idea what a noble girl she is, gracious to everybody, but true to herself. She had an offer of marriage from Lord Upperton, a little while ago, and refused him, to the astonishment of all her friends, and especially her mother. Just why she rejected his suit no one knows. Intimate as we are, she never has let me into the secret.”
“From what little I have seen of Miss Newville, she seems to be a lady of sterling character,” Robert replied.
“She has many admirers, especially among his majesty’s officers. She receives them with charming courtesy, listens to their flattering words, but is very chary of her favors. I do not wonder that half a dozen colonels, majors, and captains are dead in love with her. I hope you will see her while here. Sheoften inquires about you and Rachel, and wishes she could have another ride in a pung. I’ll tell you what I’ll do,—invite her to take supper with us, and then you’ll see what a glorious girl she is.”
“I can believe all you say of her.”
Once more, the following morning, Robert had the pleasure of shaking hands with Doctor Warren and Samuel Adams, and receiving the thanks of the committee of supply for the contribution from Rumford.
Mr. Adams said the Colonies must prepare to enter upon a struggle to maintain their liberties. Governor Gage was carrying things with a high hand. A few nights before, a body of troops had seized the powder in the magazines out towards Medford, and taken it to the Castle.[52]General Gage was seizing muskets. He had purchased cannon and cohorn mortars, and chain-shot of Mr. Scott, and had paid him five hundredpounds for them. He hoped the people of Rumford would put themselves in a condition to be ready at a minute’s warning to resist any aggressions on the part of the troops. It was evident that the king was determined to carry out his plans by force of arms.
Having delivered the donation to the committee, Robert strolled through the town, finding many houses, shops, and stores tenantless. There was a strange silence,—no hurrying of feet, no rumbling of teams, no piles of merchandise. The stores were closed, the shutters fastened. Grass was growing in the streets and tufts of oats were springing up where the horses, a few weeks before, had munched their provender. Here and there he met men and boys, wandering listlessly, with sadness in their faces, but yet behind the sorrow there was a determination to endure to the bitter end.
Robert visited his old acquaintance, Henry Knox, no longer in the bookstore at the corner of King Street, opposite the Town House, but in a store of his own on Cornhill. He passed a tailor’s shop and a harness-maker’s before he came to Mr. Knox’s bookstore, where he was heartily welcomed.
“I remember the book which you purchased the first time we met; I hope you liked it.”
“It is very entertaining, and has been read by nearly everybody in Rumford, and is pretty much worn out,” Robert replied.
While talking with Mr. Knox, he saw a white-haired gentleman pass the store. The next moment he heard a bell jingling in the shop of the harness-maker,then in the shoemaker’s, and lastly in the tailor’s. Mr. Knox laughed as the gentleman quickened his pace.
“Possibly, Mr. Walden, you do not understand the ringing of the bells in succession. The gentleman is one of the Tory councilors recently appointed by Governor Gage. He has accepted the appointment and the citizens are worrying the life out of him. Each shopman has a bell which he jingles the moment he spies a councilor, giving notice to the other shopmen.” Mr. Knox looked up at the clock. “It is about time for the council to assemble in the Town House; quite likely you will hear the bells tinkle again. More than half of those appointed by General Gage have already resigned, and I do not doubt others will ere long throw up their commissions. Not much honor is to be gained by holding an office against public opinion.”
“It is not a pleasing sight—the presence of so many troops,” Robert remarked.
“Nominally, we are under civil law; but in reality our civil rights are gone, and we are under military government,” Mr. Knox replied.
Two officers entered the store and were courteously received by the bookseller, who showed them the latest books received from London. He informed Robert, in a whisper, that they were Major John Small and Ensign De Berniere. Another gentleman entered, a citizen, whose coat was covered with dust, as if he had been long on the road. He was heartily welcomed by Mr. Knox, who introduced him to Robert as Colonel Israel Putnam of Connecticut.
“I think I have heard my father speak of you; he was a lieutenant under Captain Stark at Ticonderoga. Perhaps you remember him,” Robert said.
“Indeed I do remember Joshua Walden, and a braver man never wore a uniform in the Rifle Rangers than he.”
The major of the king’s troops laid down his book and approached with outstretched hand.
“Well, I declare! If here isn’t my old friend Putnam,” he said.
There was mutual hand-shaking between Major Small and Colonel Putnam, who had fought side by side under the walls of Ticonderoga and at Fort Edward.
“And so you are here to enforce the Regulation Act,” said Putnam.
“It is because you are rebellious,” Small replied.
“You are attempting to subvert our liberties by enforcing unrighteous laws. The Colonies exhibited their loyalty to the king when we stood side by side to drive out the French. We taxed ourselves to the utmost. England has repaid but a very small proportion of the cost. We were loyal then, and we are loyal now; but we never will submit to tyranny,” continued Putnam.
“The people of this town threw the tea into the dock, and now they must pay for it. Those that dance must settle with the fiddler,” Small replied.
“Not one penny will we ever pay. Parliament and the king have closed the port, bringing distress upon the community; but it has awakened the sympathies of the country from Passamaquoddy to Savannah.Now, Small, you are an old soldier, and so am I; we have smelled gunpowder, and can afford to talk plainly. You are here, five thousand or more, with several thousand additional troops just ready to sail from England. You have come to overawe us by force of arms. You have changed the charter of this Province; if this, why not all the others? Why do you do it? I say you, for you represent the king; you do it because you are determined to make the Colonies subservient to the crown. You cannot bear to have us manufacture anything this side of the sea, and are determined to make us your milch cow. Let me tell you that you won’t succeed. You do not know the spirit of the people. Let one drop of blood be shed by the troops, and a mighty host of armed men will close around you. I know you can fight, and so can we; if you don’t think so, try it.”
“Ha, ha! Put, you are the same old flint, ever ready to strike fire. We won’t quarrel now. Come, let us step down to the Bunch of Grapes, have a glass of wine, and talk over old times.”
Arm in arm they walked down King Street to the tavern.
Early the following afternoon Miss Newville was welcomed to the Brandon home.
“It is a long time since we have met,” she said, reaching out her hand to Robert. “I am pleased to see you once more. I hope you are well. And how is Rachel?”
Many times he had thought of her as he last beheld her, standing beneath the portico of her home in the radiant light of the moon. Her parting wordshad been an abiding memory—“Good-by, till we meet again.” Once more her hand was resting in his. She was no longer a girl, but entering upon womanhood. He told the reason of his being there, to bring the gift of Rumford to the suffering poor. She had many questions to ask about Rachel. Was she still making cheese? Had she many flowers?
“I suppose Rachel’s brother prepares the flowerbeds as in former years,” she said, laughing.
“Yes, I spaded them for her.”
“Berinthia informs me that she has found her true love.”
“So it appears.”
“I doubt not she is very happy.”
“She seems to be; she is singing from morning till night.”
“I am so glad. I only saw Mr. Stanley at the time of the launching of the ship, you remember, but thought him worthy of any woman’s love. Do you still have delightful times at quiltings and huskings?”
“In the country, customs rarely change. The young ladies still have their quilting parties. Rachel will soon be getting her fixings, and we doubtless shall have jolly times.”
“I should like to be able to help her. With so many things to care for, I do not suppose she finds much time for reading?”
“Very little. Besides, we do not have many books to read. ‘The New Hampshire Gazette’ comes once a week, giving us a little glimpse of what is going on in the world.”
“I forgot you have no bookstore with all the newvolumes printed in London,—history, travel, poetry, and novels, as we have here.”
She said that Mr. Knox, the bookseller, had been very kind to her, supplying her with the new books arriving from London, and had just handed her the poems of Oliver Goldsmith.
The afternoon waned.
“Shall we go up on the housetop and see the sun set?” Berinthia asked.
The harbor, the fleet of warships at anchor, the distant ocean, the distant woodlands, made a beautiful panorama.
“When I see such beauty,” said Miss Newville, “I want to be an artist or a poet to give expression to my feelings. See the purple and gold on the Milton Hills, the light on the water, the russet and crimson of the forests! How beautiful!” she cried, with a rich bloom upon her cheek as she gazed upon the landscape. The tap of a drum and the tramping of a regiment along the street attracted her attention. “I am weary of seeing scarlet uniforms,” she said.
“Will you not make an exception of those who call upon Miss Newville?” Berinthia asked.
“No. I do not even care to see General Gage or Earl Percy in their gold-laced coats. They are delightful gentlemen, and frequent visitors in our home. I find much pleasure in listening to Earl Percy’s description of things in London; but I should be better pleased were he to visit us as a citizen, laying aside his military trappings, the emblems of arbitrary power.”