“But here, at least, are arms unchainedAnd souls that thraldom never stained.”
As soon as the company, described in the preceding chapter, had all retired from the room, Brush, bidding Bart to rake up the fire and go to bed, proceeded to lock all the outer doors of the house, muttering to himself as he did so, “It can't be as Chandler fears, I think, about this fellow's going out to blab to-night; but as this will put an end to the possibility of his doing it, I may as well make all fast, and then there will be no chance for blame for suffering him to remain in the room.”
So saying, and putting the different keys in his pocket, he at once disappeared, on his way to his own apartment. When the sound of his retiring footsteps had ceased to be heard, Bart, who had lingered in the room, suddenly changed his sleepy, abject appearance for a prompt, decisive look and an erect attitude.
“Two ideas above a jackass!—two ideas above a jackass, eh?” he said, and slowly repeated, as with flashing eyes he nodded significantly in the direction his master had taken. “You may yet find out, Squire Brush, that my ears aint sich a disput sight longer than yourn, arter all.”
With this he blew out the last remaining light, and groped his way to his own humble sleeping-room, in the low attic story of the back kitchen. Here, however, he manifested no disposition to go to bed, but sitting down upon the side of his miserable pallet, he remained motionless and silent for fifteen or twenty minutes, when he began to soliloquize: “Jackass!—sleepy devil!—not wit enough to see what they are at in six weeks, eh? Barty Burt, you are one of small fishes, it is true; but, for all that, you needn't be walloped about at this rate, and bamboozled, and swallowed entirely up by the big ones of this court-and-king party. You know enough to take care of yourself; yes, and at the same time, you can be doing something towards paying these gentry for the beautiful compliments you have had from them to-night and at other times. The fact is, Bart, you are a rebel now—honestly one of them—you feel it in you, and you may as well let it out. So here goes for their meeting, if it is to be found, if I am hanged for it.”
Having, in this whimsical manner, made a sort of manifesto of his principles and intentions, as if to give them, with himself, a more fixed and definite character, he now rose buttoned up his jacket, carefully raised the window of his room, let himself down to the roof of a shed beneath it, and from that descended to the ground, with the easy and rapid motions of a squirrel engaged in nut-gathering. Here he cast a furtive glance around him, and paused some moments, in apparent hesitation, respecting the course to be taken to find those of whom he was in quest. Soon, however, appearing to come to a determination, he struck out into the main street, and, with a quick step, proceeded on, perhaps a furlong, when he suddenly stopped short, and exclaimed, “Hold up, Bart. What did that sly judge say about searching in folks' sleighs, for—what was that word now?—But never mind, it meant guns. And what did the sheriff say about a dozen flint-and-steel men having come? Put that and that together now, Bart, and see if it don't mean that the only guns brought into town to-night are packed away in the straw, in the bottom of the sleighs of the court party understrappers? Let's go and mouse round their stopping-place a little, Bart. Perhaps you'll get more news to carry to the rebels,” he added, turning round and making towards the tavern at which those in the interests of the loyalists were known generally to put up.
On reaching the tavern, and finding all there still and dark, he proceeded directly to the barn shed, and commenced a search, which was soon rewarded by finding, in the different sleighs about the place, twelve muskets, carefully concealed in hay or blankets. With a low chuckle of delight at his discovery, Bart took as many as he could conveniently carry at one load, and, going with them into the barn, thrust them one by one into the hay mow, under the girts and beams, so as effectually to conceal them. He then returned for others, and continued his employment till the whole were thus disposed of; when he left the place, and resumed his walk to the northerly end of the village. After pursuing his way through the street, and some distance down the road beyond the village, he paused against a low, long log-house, standing endwise to the road. This house was occupied by a middle-aged, single man, known by the name of Tom Dunning, though often called Ditter Dunning, and sometimes Der Ditter, on account of his frequent use of these terms as prefixes to his words and sentences, arising from a natural impediment of speech. He was a hunter by profession, and passed most of his lime in the woods, or round the Connecticut in catching salmon, which, at that period, were found in the river in considerable numbers, as far up as Bellows Falls. Though he mingled but little in society, yet he was known to be well informed respecting all the public movements of the times; and it was also believed that he had enrolled himself among the far-famed band of Green Mountain Boys, and often joined them in their operations against the Yorkers, on the other side of the mountains. Very little however, was known about the man, except that he was a shrewd resolute fellow, extremely eccentric, and perfectly impenetrable to all but the few in whom he confided.
Bart, from some remark he had overheard in the street, in the early part of the evening, had been led to conclude that the company he now sought were assembled at this house. And though he was personally unacquainted with the owner, and knew nothing of his principles, yet he was resolved to enter and trust to luck to make his introduction, if the company were present, and, if not, to rely on his own wit to discover whether it were safe to unfold his errand.
As he was approaching the house, Dunning hastily emerged from the door, and, advancing with a quick step, confronted him in the path with an air which seemed to imply an expectation that his business would be at once announced. Bart, who was not to be discomposed by any thing of this kind, manifested no hurry to name his errand, and seemed to prefer that the other should be the first to break the silence.
“Ditter—seems to me I have seen you somewhere?” at length said Dunning, inquiringly.
“Very likely. I have often been there,” replied Bart, with the utmost gravity.
“Ditter—devil you have! And what did you—der—ditter—find there, my foxy young friend?”
“Nothing that I was looking for.”
“Der—what was that?”
“The meeting.”
“Der—what meeting?”
“The one I'd like to go to, may be.”
“You are a bright pup; but—der—don't spit this way; it might be der—ditter—dangerous business to me; for you must have been eating razors to-night.”
“No, I haven't; don't love 'em. But you haven't yet told me where the meeting is?”
“Ditter—look here, my little chap,” said Dunning, getting impatient and vexed that he could not decide whether the other was a knave, simpleton, or neither—“ditter—look here;—der—don't your folks want you? Hadn't you better run along now?”
“Reckon I shall, when you tell me where to go and not run against snags.”
“Ditter well, der go back the way you come, about ditter as far again as half way; der then, ditter turn to the ditter right, then to the ditter left, then der—ditter—ditter—ditter—go along! you'll get there before I can tell you.”
“In no sort of hurry; will wait till you get your mouth off; may be it will shoot near the mark arter all.”
“Ditter, dog, my cat, if I—der—don't begin to believe you are considerable of a critter: and I've half a mind to risk you a piece; so come into the house, and, der—let me take a squint at your phiz in the light.”
Taking no exceptions to the character of the invitation, Bart now followed the other into the house, and, sitting down on a bench by the fire, began very unconcernedly to whistle, on a low key, the tune of Yankee Doodle, which was then just beginning to be considered a patriotic air. Dunning, in the mean time, taking a seat in the opposite corner, commenced his proposed scrutiny, which he continued, with one eye partly closed, and with a certain dubious expression of countenance, for some moments, when he observed,
“You are a ditter queer chicken, that's a fact. But I der find now that I know you, as the ditter divil did his pigs, by sight; I know also the sort of folks you have been living amongst lately; and der knowing all that, it's reasonable that I should be a snuffing a little for the ditter smell of brimstone. So now if you are a court party tory, and come here for mischief, you've got into a place that will ditter prove too hot for you; but if, as I rather think, you are, or der want to be, something better, and can let us into the shape and fix of matters and things over there at ditter head-quarters, you may be the chap we would like to see. Ditter speak out therefore, like a man, and no more of your ditter squizzling.”
After a few more evasive remarks, in which he succeeded in drawing out the other more fully, and causing him the more completely to commit himself, Bart threw aside all bantering, and proceeded to relate all his discoveries relative to the contemplated movement of the court party.
“Ditter devils and dumplings!” exclaimed the hunter, as, with eyes sparkling with excitement, he sprang to his feet, as the other finished his recital. “This must be made known directly. Come—der follow me, and I'll take you to the company you ditter said you wished to see.”
So saying, he immediately led the way through a dark entry to a room in the rear of the house, which the two now entered; when Bart found himself in a company of nearly twenty grave and stern-looking men, deliberating in a regularly organized meeting.
“Ditter here, Captain Wright,” eagerly commenced Dunning, as he entered, addressing the chairman, a prompt, fine-looking man, and the leading whig of the village; “here is one,” he continued, pointing to Bart, “one who brings ditter news that—”
“Esquire Knowlton, of Townsend, has the floor now,” said the chairman, interrupting the speaker, and directing his attention to a middle-aged man of a gentlemanly, intelligent appearance, who was standing on one side of the room, having suspended the remarks he was making at the entrance of Dunning and his companion.
“As I was remarking, Mr. Chairman,” now resumed the gentleman who had been thus interrupted in his speech, “the tory party, acting under various disguises, have been, for several months past, secretly using every means within their reach to strengthen their unrighteous rule in this already sadly oppressed section of the country. They aim to bring the people into a state of bondage and slavery. When no cash is stirring, with which debts can be paid, they purposely multiply suits, seize property, which they well know can never be redeemed, and take it into their hands, that they may make the people dependent on them, and subservient to their party purposes. And just so far as they find themselves strengthened by these and other disguised movements, so far they betray their intention to curtail all freedom of opinion, and to overawe us by open acts of oppression. Here, one man has been thrown into prison on the charge of high treason; when all they proved against him was the remark, that if the king had signed the Quebec bill, he had broken his coronation oath. There, another, a poor harmless recluse, as I have ever supposed him, is dragged from his hut in the mountains and imprisoned to await his trial for an alleged murder, committed long ago, and in another jurisdiction; when his only crime, with his prosecutors, probably, is his bold denunciations of their tyranny, unless, as some suspect, even a baser motive actuates them. They even proclaim, thatallwho dare question the king's right to tax us without our consent, are guilty of high treason and worthy of death! For myself, I seek not the suspension of this court at this time, on account of the questionable jurisdiction of New York merely, but because the court, itself bitterly tory in all its branches, is sustained by a colony which refuses to adopt the resolves of the Continental Congress, and thereby continues to force upon us the royal authority, which our brethren of the other colonies have almost every where put down, and which in our case, Heaven knows, is not the least deserving the fate it has met elsewhere. And the question, then, now comes home to us, Shall we tolerate it any longer? The hearts of the people, though their tongues may often be awed into silence—the hearts of the people are ready to respond their indignantno! And I, for one, am ready to join in the cry, and stepping into the first rank of the opposers of arbitrary power, breast the storm in discharging my duty to my country.”
“Amen!” was the deep and general response of the company.
“Mr. Dunning will now be heard,” said the chairman, motioning to the former to come forward.
“Ditter well, Captain—der—ditter Mr. Moderator, I mean. I, being on the watch against ditter interlopers, you know, have just picked up an odd coon, here, who ditter seems to have ears in one place and tongue in another; and his story is a ditter loud one. But let him tell it in his own way. So now, Barty Burt,” he continued, going up to the other, who stood by the fire, kicking the fore-stick with his usual air of indifference; “come forward, and tell the meeting all you have der seen and heard, in the ditter camp of the Philistines.”
Bart, then, mostly in the way of answers to a series of rapid questions, put by the chairman, who seemed to know him, and understand the best way of drawing him out,—Bart then related his discoveries to his astonished and indignant auditors, giving such imitations of the manner of each of the company, whose words he was repeating, as not only showed their meaning in its full force, but at once convinced all present of the truth of his story.
No sooner had Bart closed, than a half dozen of the company sprang to their feet, in their eagerness to express their indignation and abhorrence of the bloody plot, which their opponents under the garb of peace and fair promises, had, it was now evident, been hatching against them.
“Order, gentlemen!” cried the chairman: “I don't wonder you all want to denounce the detestable and cowardly conduct of the tyrants. But one only can be heard at a time, and Mr. French, I rather think, was fairly up first, and he will therefore proceed.”
While all others, on hearing this remark of the chairman, resumed their seats, the person thus named, as privileged to speak first, remained standing. He was a young man, of about twenty-two, of a ready, animated appearance, while every look and motion of his ardent countenance and restless muscles proclaimed him to be of the most sanguine temperament and enthusiastic feelings. An almost unnatural excitement was sparkling in his kindling eyes, and a sort of wild, fitful, sad, and prophetic air characterized his whole appearance as he began.
“It has come at last, then! I knew it was coming. I have felt it for months; waking and sleeping, I have felt it. In my dreams I have seen blood in the skies, and heard sounds of battle in the air and earth. Dreams of themselves, I know, are generally without sign or significance; but when the spirit of a dream remains on the mind through the waking hours, as it has on mine, I know it has a meaning. Something has been hurrying me to be ready for the great event. I could not help coming here to-night. I cannot help being here to-morrow. The event and the time are at hand! I see it now—resistance, and battle, and blood! Let it come! the victims are ready; and their blood, poured out on the wood on the altar of liberty, will bring down fire from heaven to consume the oppressors!”
There was a short silence among the company, who seemed to pause, in surprise and awe at the strange words and manner of the young man, which evidently made an impression on his hearers at the time, and which were afterwards remembered, and often repeated, at the fireside, in recounting his untimely fate.
“Mr. Fletcher,” at length observed the chairman, breaking the silence—“Mr. Fletcher, of Newfane, is next entitled to speak, I believe.”
“I rose, Mr. Chairnan,” said the latter, a fine specimen of the hardy, resolute, and intelligent yeoman of the times—“I rose but to ask whether the news just received can be relied on: can it be, that Judge Chandler, after his pledge to us at Chester, would be guilty of conduct reflecting so deeply on his character as a man?”
“I am not wholly unprepared to believe the story myself,” replied the chairman; “our young friend here may have his peculiarities; but I consider him a thousand times more honest and honorable, than some of those whose sly hints and treacherous conduct he has so well described.”
“Ditter, look here, Mr. Moderator,” interposed Dunning. “I was once, ditter travelling, in the Bay State, with a friend, when we came across a meeting-house with eight sides, and my friend asked me what order of architecture I called it. Ditter well, I was fairly treed, and couldn't tell. But I should be able to tell now. I should ditter call it the Chandler order.”
A desultory but animated debate now arose. Various methods of accomplishing what appeared to be the settled determination of all—that of preventing the sitting of the court—were suggested. Some proposed to dismantle or tear down the Court House; others were for arming the people, seizing the building, and bidding open defiance to their opponents. At this stage of the deliberations, Colonel Carpenter, whose character had secured him great influence, rose, and requested to be heard.
“From the gathering signs of the times,” said he, “we have good reason to believe that the smouldering fires of liberty will soon burst forth into open revolution throughout these oppressed and insulted colonies. Our movements here may lead to the opening scene of the great drama; and we must give our foes no advantages by our imprudence. If we are the first to appear in arms, it may weaken our cause, while it strengthens theirs. Letthembe the first to do this—let us placethemin the wrong, and then, if they have recourse to violence and bloodshed,wewill act; and no fear but the people will find means to arm themselves. Let us, therefore, go into the Court House to-morrow, in a body, but without a single offensive implement, and resist peacefully, but firmly; and then, if they dare make a martyr, his blood will do more for our cause than would now a regiment of rifles.”
Although this prudent and far-sighted proposal was for a while opposed, by the more ardent and unthinking part of the company, yet it was at length adopted by the whole; and having made arrangements to carry it into effect, the meeting broke up, and all retired to their respective lodgings.
“Thou ever strong upon the strongest side”
Although many were the anxious consultations, and deep plottings, among the belligerent parties within doors, during the fore part of the memorable 13th of March, yet it was not till the afternoon of that day had considerably advanced, that any indications of the events which followed became observable in the streets of Westminster. About this time, one of the doors of Crean Brush's guest-filled mansion suddenly flew open, and the crouched and cringing form of our humble friend Barty Burt, hotly pursued by his recent employer with uplifted cane, was seen coming down the steps of the entrance, in flying leaps, to the ground.
“There, you infernal booby! please consider this caning and kicking as a farewell to my house and employ forever!” exclaimed the enraged master, standing in the door-way, and looking down with ineffable scorn upon the prostrate person of the ejected Bart, as he lay sprawled out upon the spot where he landed, without manifesting any disposition to rise.
“I should like to know what I've done criminal, squire?” responded the latter, looking back over his shoulder at the other, with a doleful grimace.
“What have you done?” sharply retorted Brush. “Why, you impertinent puppy, you have done every thing wrong, and nothing right, ever since you got your lubberly carcass out of bed, at the fine time of eight o'clock this morning! and now, to crown all, in clearing off the table, you must go, with your load of meats and half-filled gravy dishes, through the parlor, where you had no business to go, and there, like a blundering jackass, as you are, you must fall down and ruin the best carpet in the house! I've had quite enough of you, sir: so up with you there and clear out, you vagabond!”
“Well, I'spose I know what you want,” muttered Bart, by way of reply to this tirade—“you want to accuse, and drive me away, so you won't have to pay me the two crowns you owe me for work, and other things.”
“I don't owe you half that sum, you lying lout,” returned Brush, fiercely. “But to get rid of such a pest, and prevent your going round town with that lie in your mouth, I'll give you all you ask; and there they are!” he continued, pulling out and disdainfully tossing the coins down at the other's feet. “Your dirty rags, if you have any in the house, shall be thrown out to you; and then, if you aint off, I'll set the dogs on ye.”
With this, and an expressive slam of the door behind him, the secretary returned into the house; and in a few moments, the sash of a garret window was thrown up, and a pair of shoes, a pair of old summer pantaloons, a spare coarse shirt, and pair of stockings, were successively flung down into the yard, near where the owner was still lying, by the hand of a grinning and blushing servant maid, while her dainty-fingered master stood by, directing the operation,
“Well, Bart,” now soon began to mutter this singular being, in his usual manner of addressing himself as a second person, when alone—“well, Bart, your plan of getting driv away has worked to a shaving. You've got your pay, too, jest in the way you calculated would fetch it; yes, all your honest pay, and one crown more; but you charged that, you know, when you told him two crowns, as damage for the kick and cane lick you got. So that's settled. And as to the other accounts against him, and the rest of 'em there, you'll be in a way to square all, fore long, guess; for you will be your own rebel, now, Bart, you know.”
While thus communing with himself, he had slowly, and with many winces of affected pain, gathered up his limbs, risen on to his feet, pocketed his two crowns, and collected and tied up his clothes. And he was now, with a grieved look, as if sorrowing for the loss of his home, looking back to the house, where several curious, half-laughing, half-pitying countenances were seen peering through the windows to witness his departure. He then looked hesitatingly abroad, one way and then the other, with the sad and despairing air of one who feels there is no place in the wide world where he can find a friendly shelter. After this, with a wince and groan at every step, he slowly hobbled off up the street, losing his lameness, and converting his groans into snickers of low, exulting laughter, as soon as he was out of eye-shot of the company he had left behind him.
“Kinder 'pears to me, Bart,” he at length said, resuming his soliloquy, as he glanced keenly at the tavern, which was the scene of his last night's exploit, and which he was now passing—“'pears to me, there's a good many heads rather close together in spots, round that tory nest over yonder. They act as if they were in a sort of stew about something. I wonder if they lost their guns last night, or anything, that puts them in such a pucker,” he continued with a chuckle. “But suppose, Bart, as going this way is only a sham, suppose we now haul up here, and edge over there among 'em a little, to learn what they are up to, before you go to join the company at the Court House.”
On reaching the yard of the tavern, Bart found that the company, numbering perhaps twenty in all, had broken from the separate groups in which they had been conversing, and had now gathered round one man, who, having just come out of the tavern, appeared to be communicating to the crowd something that obviously produced considerable sensation. This person was a man of the ordinary size, of fair complexion, light eyes, and an unsettled and vacillating countenance, rendered the more strikingly so, perhaps, by the quick, eager, and restless motions and manner by which his whole appearance was characterized. Bart soon contrived to work his way into this circle, till he gained a position from which he could hear what was said.
“You may rely on what I have told you,” said the speaker, as Bart came within hearing; “for I have just had it from the sheriff and lawyer Stearns. The rebels have been in possession of the Court House about an hour, posted sentinels at all the doors, and openly declare, that the judges and officers shall never enter to hold another court. Nobody dreamed of their daring on such a bold step, or we should have been before them in taking possession of the house, even with the force we had on the ground. But, thinking it best to go strong-handed, the judges concluded they would not go in to open the court till enough of friends should arrive to put down all opposition at a blow. The rebels think now, doubtless, that they have got an advantage which they will be able to maintain. But they will find themselves a little mistaken, I fancy; for Patterson says he has now got them in just the spot he wanted. This act both he and Stearns decide to be overt treason, which will justify him in taking the course he intends, unless they yield and scatter, on the first summons. But as they won't do that, and our forces will shortly be here, you can all guess what we shall now soon see follow,” he added, with a significant wink.
“Then why not be getting out our guns at once?” asked one of the company.
“No,” resumed the speaker; “the plan is to leave that till the last thing before we march upon them, lest the rebels should take alarm and go and arm themselves, and we thus thwart our own intention of taking them by surprise. You, however, can be kinder carelessly looking up clubs for such as may have no arms, and a few axes and crowbars for breaking into the Court House, if that should be necessary. But, as I said, let the guns remain hid in the sleighs till you have orders to take them out. For it is not exactly settled yet whether we shall march upon them as soon as our reenforcements arrive, and besiege them in the house, or coax them out, and so get possession ourselves. But, at any rate, you will have work on hand soon; and if we don't see fun before to-morrow morning, my name aint David Redding. But come, let's all adjourn to the bar-room, and take a drop to warm us up a little.”
Leaving Redding to his despicable task of endeavoring, in compliance with the directions of those whose base tool he was, to inflame the company he had collected, and work up their feelings to such a pitch of enmity and recklessness as should prepare them to imbrue their hands in the blood of their neighbors and countrymen, we will now proceed to note the conduct of more important personages in the events of the day.
While the scene above described was transpiring, Patterson, Gale, Stearns, and one or two other tory leaders, who had been consulting at this tavern, and making their arrangements for active movements, left the house, and, with hasty steps, took their way to the mansion of the haughty secretary, which, by his special invitation, at this crisis, was made the permanent quarters of the judges and principal officers of the court, as well as of his numerous guests.
“Upon the whole, perhaps you are right, Stearns,” said Patterson, as they were about to enter the house. “We will start off Chandler to the Court House to make one of his smooth speeches, and play Sir Plausible with the rebel rascals, as agreed on last night, and though he should have done it before, yet he may, even now, succeed in flattering them to quit the house long enough for us to get possession; if not, we will take the other course.”
In a few moments after these worthies had disappeared within the house, the door was again opened, and Chief Justice Chandler, the man to whose singularly compounded character, made up of timidity, selfishness, vanity, thirst of power, kindness, and duplicity, or rather the conduct that flowed from it, may be mainly attributed the bloody tragedy that ensued, now made his appearance in the street. He wore a powdered wig, according to the fashion of the times among men of his official station, and his whole toilet had evidently been made with much attention. Carelessly flirting a light cane in his hand, and assuming an air of easy unconcern, he leisurely took his way along the street, towards the Court House, bowing low, and blandly smiling to every one he met, and often even crossing to the opposite side of the street to exchange salutations with the passer-by, to each of whom, whatever his party or station, he was sure to say something complimentary, and aimed with no little sagacity to reach the peculiar feelings and interests of the person addressed.
“This is Mr. French, I believe,” he said, turning out of his course to speak to the young man introduced in the last chapter, who, with the same restless, anxious look he then wore, was unobservantly hurrying by the other, on his way to the Court House.
“Yes, yes, sir,” replied French, slightly checking his speed, and looking back, with a half-surprised, half-vacant expression.
“Ay, I was sure I knew you,” rejoined the judge. “How are the times with you, Mr. French? You will pardon my freedom, sir, but the great interest I take in the success of our enterprising and intelligent young men like yourself—But no matter now. I see you are in haste. I will not detain you, sir. A very good day to you, Mr. French.”
“Well, upon my word, now, here is my friend Colonel Carpenter!” he again exclaimed, as, turning from the person he had just saluted with such poor success, his quick and wary eye caught sight of the gentleman thus addressed coming up behind him. “Most happy to fall in with you, colonel,” he continued, grasping and warmly shaking the hand of the other. “How are your family, sir? Shall I confess it, colonel? I have really sometimes greatly envied you.”
“Why so, sir?” asked Carpenter, with a little coolness.
“Envied you your well-deserved appellation—that ofFriend of the People, as they call you,” replied the judge.
“The people need a friend at this crisis, I think, sir,” responded the unbought yeoman, with cold dignity.
“If there is one title that I should covet above all others,” resumed the judge, without appearing to notice the drift of the other's remark, “it would be the one I have named. What can be a more truly honorable distinction? I have often regretted being so trammelled by my station on the bench, as to prevent me from acting as I would otherwise like to do. But a judge, you know, colonel, in party times, must not act openly on any particular side.”
“He had better do that, however, than actsecretlyonallsides,” returned the other, with biting significance.
“O, doubtless, doubtless, sir,” rejoined the judge, with a forced laugh, but with the air of one perfectly unsuspicious of any intended personalities. “Yes, indeed. But, ah!” he continued, slightly motioning towards the Court House, against which they had now arrived. “What have we here? A public meeting?”
“Quite possible. At all events I think of going in myself,” said Carpenter, quietly turning from the other into the Court House yard, but soon pausing a little, though without looking round, to hear the remarks which the other seemed intent on making.
“Indeed! Why, I had not heard of it, else I should have been pleased to have dropped in. I came out, be sure, only for a little exercise, but——”
Here he paused, in expectation that the other would speak; but finding himself disappointed, and left alone in the street, he resumed his walk, while his now unguarded countenance very plainly showed the disquiet he felt at the rebuffs he had received in his attempts to conciliate Colonel Carpenter, and obtain from him an invitation to go into the meeting, which, in reality, it was his only object in coming out to attend.
While digesting his mortification, and occupied in conjecturing how he could have become an object of suspicion among the opponents of the court party, as every thing now seemed to indicate, his attention was again arrested by the sounds of approaching footsteps; and, looking up, his eyes encountered the sarcastic countenance of Tom Dunning, who, coming from an opposite direction, was also on his way to join the company at the Court House.
“Ah, Mr. Dunning!” exclaimed the judge, starting from his reverie and downcast attitude, while his face instantly brightened into smiles summoned for the occasion; “right glad to meet you, sir. I have been thinking I must engage some such expert and lucky sportsman, as they say you are, to catch and send me up a fresh salmon, occasionally. I suppose your never-failing spear will be put in requisition again, when the spring opens; will it not?”
“Der—yes, your worship, unless I turn my attention to the catching—ditter—eels, or other slippery varments,” returned the hunter, with a sly, significant twinkling of his eyes, as he brushed by the rebuked cajoler, and pushed on without waiting for a reply.
The judge did not pursue his walk much farther; but now, soon facing about, began, with a quickened step and a look of increasing uneasiness, to retrace his way to his quarters.
While those little incidents were occurring in the streets, about one hundred sturdy and determined men had collected within the walls of the Court House. As the construction of this building was somewhat peculiar, for one designed for such purposes, it may be necessary, for a clear understanding of the descriptions which follow, to say a few words respecting its interior arrangements. The court-room was in the upper story, which was all occupied as such, except the east and south corners, that had been partitioned off for sleeping apartments. In the lower story, there was a wide passage running through the middle of the building, with doors at both ends; while the stairs leading up into the court room faced the principal entrance, on the north-east side of the house. After passing by the stairs, there was a small passage leading from the large one, at right angles, and running back between prison-rooms, whose doors opened into it. The part of this lower story, on the opposite side of the main passage, consisted also of two rooms, with doors opening into it, and an entry, or short passage, leading out into the street. One of these rooms was used as a common, or bar-room, and the other as a sort of parlor, being both occupied by the jailer and his family.
Although there had been, for many weeks, a growing disposition among the party here assembled to prevent the session of a court avowedly acting under royal authority, and spurning all the recommendations of Congress, yet there had been no settled intention among them to resort to any other than the peaceful measures of petition and remonstrance, which they believed would be sufficient to effect the desired result. It had been decided, therefore, that the court should be permitted to come together; when such representations and arguments were to be laid before them, as could not fail, it was supposed, to convince any reasonable men of the wisdom of listening to the voice of the people. But when, or, the preceding evening, it was discovered, in the way before related, and from other sources, that the people had been duped by the duplicity of Chandler, and that it was the secret purpose of the court, in defiance of all pledges to the contrary, to hold a full session, under the protection of an armed force, the hitherto modest and quiet spirit of patriotism was at once aroused among this resolute little band of revolutionists, and they came to the bold determination, as we have before seen, of seizing the Court House in advance of their opponents, and holding it till their remonstrances should be heard and heeded.
This object, so far as respected the possession of the building, being now obtained, the company proceeded to organize and make arrangements for maintaining their advantage through the night. Their possession, however, was not destined to remain long undisputed. In a short time after they had begun to act, their new recruit, Barty Burt, who could not forego his desire of remaining among the tories (where we left him acting the unsuspected spy on their movements) till they should look for their guns, that he might have the pleasure of witnessing their discomfiture on discovering their loss, now arrived with news, that the latter, as soon as they made the discovery that their arms had been abstracted, were thrown into the greatest commotion; and that under the direction of Patterson and Gale, both foaming with rage, they had hastily collected all the offensive implements they could find, with the avowed determination of making an immediate assault on their opponents at the Court House. But notwithstanding this startling intelligence, no one manifested the least disposition of quitting his post. And although there was not a weapon of defence, beyond a cane, in the whole company, yet they seemed none the less inclined to maintain their position in consequence of the threatening aspect which the affair was beginning to assume; but resolving, by acclamation, to keep possession of the house till compelled by force of arms to relinquish it, they placed a few strong and resolute men as guards at every door, and quietly awaited the result. And they were not kept long in suspense. In a short time, Patterson and his posse, armed with several old muskets, swords, pistols, and clubs, made their appearance, and, with many hostile manifestations, came rushing up within a few yards of the door. Commanding a halt, the sheriff then, in a loud and arrogant tone, summoned the company within to come forth and disperse. No voice, however, was heard to respond to the summons. Gale, the clerk, then proceeded, upon the intimation of the former, to read the king's proclamation to the outward walls of the house, or the supposed listeners within, with great form and solemnity.
“Ditter—dickins!” exclaimed Tom Dunning, after listening a moment to the reading of the riot act, or proclamation, as it was usually called, as, with several others, he stood just within the entrance. “Now I wonder if they expect to rout a body of Green Mountain Boys with that sort of—ditter—ammunition?”
“There!” fiercely cried Patterson, as the reader concluded his task. “There, you d——d rascals, now disperse, or, by Heaven, I will blow a lane through ye!”
“Only—ditter—hear that!” again remarked the hunter, contemptuously, at the menace and profanity of the haughty officer. “Natural enough, though, mayhap, for a bag of wind to blow, if it does any thing. He is rather smart at—der—swearing, too, I think. But even at that, I guess he would have to haul in his horns a little, if old Ethan Allen was here, as I wish he was, to let off a few blasts of his—ditter—damnations at him.”
Captain Wright, after a brief consultation with the other leaders, now coming down from the court-room, opened the door, (Dunning and another strong-armed man having hold of it to guard against a rush,) and addressed the besiegers.
“Why is all this, gentlemen?” he said, in a respectful, but firm manner. “Are you come here for war?Weare here for no such purpose, ourselves.Wecame with none other than peaceful intentions. And so long as we can say that, and say, also, above all, that we have come together with the approbation of the chief judge of your court, who has promised us a fair hearing of our grievances; and so long as, in direct violation of that judge's pledge to us, you appear here in arms, to intimidate us, let me assure you, we shall not disperse under your threats. We, however, will permit you to come in, if you will lay aside your arms; or we will hold a parley with you as you are.”
“D——n your parley!” exclaimed Gale, furiously. “D——n the parley with such d——d rascals as you are! I will hold no parley with such d——d rascals, but by this!” he added, drawing a pistol, and brandishing it towards his opponents.
“Ay! ay!” cried Redding, who, next to the sheriff and clerk, appeared to be the most violent and officious among the assailants: “talk about being here without arms, and for peace, do ye? when you have stolen a dozen of our guns, and have now got them in there among you. Pretty fellows, to talk about parley? We will give you a parley that will send you all to hell before morning!”
Wright here began a denial of the charge made by the last speaker; when he was interrupted by Dunning, who, jogging him said, in an undertone,—
“Let 'em-der—believe it. They are such—ditter—cowards, that the idea of a dozen guns among us will mike 'em more mannerly than all the preaching you could—ditter—do in a month.”
Concluding to profit by this suggestion of the sagacious hunter Wright now retired within doors, followed by the hisses, curses and all manner of abusive epithets, of the assailants.
The besiegers, now finding that the king's proclamation, on whose potency for quelling the risings of the rebellious colonists the tory authorities, at the commencement of the revolution, seemed to have greatly counted, did not annihilate their opponents, and, not seeing fit to attempt to carry their threats into execution at present, they soon drew off a short distance, and apparently held a consultation. While they were thus occupied, a small deputation was sent out to them from the Court House, with another offer to hold a conference. But their proposals being received with fresh insults and abuse, they returned to the house, while Patterson and his forces, evidently fearing to venture an attack, with their present strength, on the other party, whom they suspected to be armed with the lost guns, now moved off to head-quarters, to report progress, and wait for the expected reenforcement, to hasten whose arrival, expresses had been despatched several hours before.
A short time after the disappearance of Patterson's band. Judge Chandler unexpectedly came up to the Court House, wholly unattended, and being readily admitted, he at once ascended into the court-room, and entered the somewhat surprised, but unmoved assembly, bowing low to individuals on the right and left, as he passed on to an unoffered seat, with the gratified air of one, who, after many detentions, has the satisfaction of getting at length into the company of his friends.
After a rather embarrassing pause, the judge rose, and made a short speech, which left his hearers but little the wiser respecting his real wishes and intentions, though he had much to say about his solicitude for the welfare of the people, and his anxiety that they should do nothing to injure their cause. After he was seated, Wright, Carpenter, and Knowlton, each in turn, addressed him, stating, in general terms, the views and wishes of their party, and reminding him of his pledge, that no arms should be brought by the officers of the court, the recent violation of which they hoped he would be able to explain.
Upon this, the former rejoined, declaring with great assurance, and not a little to the surprise of many in the room, that the arms complained of had been brought without his knowledge and against his express wishes; and he concluded by assuring his friends, as he said he was proud to believe he might safely call them, that he would go and immediately secure the arms in question; so that the company might now retire, in full confidence that their petitions would obtain a fair hearing, when the court came together the next morning. The speaker then resumed his seat, and glanced persuasively around him for some tokens of assent or approbation. But the men, whom he had thus undertaken to wheedle, had been taught by experience to heed the caution so well recommended by the tuneful Burns,—