TAMING A TRAITOR.
With the exception of Squire Pemberton, Pinchbrook was a thoroughly loyal
town; and the people felt that it was a scandal and a disgrace to have
even a single traitor within its border. The squire took no pains to
conceal his treasonable sentiments, though the whole town was in a blaze
of patriotic excitement. On the contrary, he had gone out of his way, and
taken a great deal of pains, to condemn the government and the people of
the North.
Squire Pemberton was a wealthy man, and he had always been a person of
great influence in the place. He had occupied all the principal official
positions in town and county. He had come to regard himself, as his
townsmen were for the most part willing to regard him, as the social and
political oracle of the place. What he thought in town meeting was
generally the sense of his fellow-citizens, and when he expressed himself
in words, his word was law.
When, on Sunday morning, with Fort Sumter in ruins, with the national flag
trodden under the feet of traitors, with the government insulted and
threatened, Squire Pemberton ventured to speak in tones of condemnation of
the free North, the people of Pinchbrook listened coldly, at first, to the
sayings of their oracle; and when he began to abuse the loyal spirit of
the North, some ventured to dissent from him. The oracle was not in the
habit of having men dissent, and it made him angry. His treason became
more treasonable, his condemnation more bitter. Plain, honest men, to
whatever party they might have belonged, were disgusted with the great man
of Pinchbrook; and some of them ventured to express their disapprobation
of his course in very decided terms. Some were disposed to be indulgent
because the Squire had a sister in Georgia who had married a planter. But
there was not found a single person, outside of his own family, who was
mean enough to uphold him in his treacherous denunciation of the
government.
The squire was too self-sufficient and opinionated to be influenced by the
advice of friends or the warning of those who had suddenly become his
enemies. He had so often carried the town to his own views, that, perhaps,
he expected to manufacture a public sentiment in Pinchbrook that would
place the town on the side of the rebels. All day Sunday, and all day
Monday, he rode about the Harbor preaching treason. He tried to convince
the people that the South had all the right, and the North all the wrong;
but he had never found them so obstinate and incredulous before.
Towards night one of the ministers ventured to suggest to him that he was
sowing the wind, and would reap the whirlwind. The good man even hinted
that he had roused a storm of indignation in the town which he might find
it difficult to allay.
The squire laughed at the minister, and told him he was not afraid of any
thing. He intended to speak his honest sentiments, as every citizen had a
right to do; and he would like to see any man, or any body of men, who
would dare to meddle with him.
"I am afraid you will see them, Squire Pemberton," added the minister.
"Let them come where they please and when they please."
"What will you do? What is your single arm against scores of strong men?"
"Nothing, perhaps, but I don't fear them. I am true to my convictions; why
need I fear?"
"I think your convictions, as you call them, are deluding you. Do you
think Benedict Arnold's convictions, if he had any, would have saved his
neck from the halter?"
"Do you mean to compare me to Benedict Arnold, sir?"
"I came to you, as a friend, to warn you of impending danger; and, as your
friend, I am compelled to say that I don't see much difference between
your position and that of Benedict Arnold."
"Do you mean to insult me?"
"Not at all, sir. I was only expressing my honest conviction. Instead of
placing yourself on the side of your government, on the side of law and
order, you are going about Pinchbrook Harbor denouncing the legitimate
government of your country, and pleading the cause of rebels and
traitors."
"Am I not at liberty to say what I please of the government?"
"In ordinary times, you are. Just now, the country is in a state of war,
and he who is not for the flag is against it. You may criticize the
government as its friend, but not as its foe. When armed men conspire
against the peace of the land, he who pleads their cause is a
traitor--nay, sir, don't be angry; these are my convictions."
"Political parsons have been the ruin of the country," sneered the squire.
"That is my conviction."
"Squire Pemberton, I beg you not to be rash. If you must cherish these
pernicious views, I entreat you, keep them to yourself. You may think what
you please, but the utterance of treason makes a traitor."
"I shall proclaim my views from the housetop," replied the squire,
angrily, as he abruptly turned away from the minister.
The squire continued obdurate to the last. Neither the persuasions of his
friends nor the threats of his enemies had any effect in silencing his
tongue; and as late as sundown on that day of the Great Awakening he was
pouring treachery and treason into the ears of a neighbor who happened to
pass his house. Half an hour later in the day, there was a great gathering
of men and boys at the bridge on the outskirts of the village. They were
singing Hail Columbia and the Star-spangled Banner. Thomas and John Somers
were there.
Presently the assemblage began to move up the road which led to Squire
Pemberton's house, singing patriotic songs as they marched. It was a
multitude of persons for Pinchbrook; and no doubt the obnoxious oracle
thought so when he saw the sea of heads that surrounded his dwelling. If
this was a mob, it was certainly a very orderly mob, for the crowd thus
far had done nothing worse than to sing the national airs.
The arrangements had all been made before the multitude started from the
place of rendezvous. Three gentlemen, the principal of whom was Captain
Barney, had been appointed a committee to wait upon the squire, and
politely request him to display the American flag on his premises.
In the road, in front of the house, a large fire had been kindled, which
threw a broad, bright glare on the house and the surrounding grounds. It
was as light as day in the vicinity when the committee walked up to the
front door of the house and rang the bell. The squire answered the summons
himself.
"Squire Pemberton," said Captain Barney, "your fellow-citizens, about two
hundred in number, have called upon you with a simple and reasonable
request."
"What is it?" demanded the squire.
"That you hoist the Stars and Stripes on your house."
"I won't do it!" roared the victim, as he slammed the door in the faces of
the committee.
"That is insolence," said Captain Barney, quietly. "We will go in."
The captain led the way; but the door had been locked upon them. The
shoulders of three stout men pressed against it, and the bolt yielded.
"What do you mean, you villains?" thundered the squire, as he confronted
the committee in the entry.
"You were so impolite as to close the door in our faces before we had
finished our story," replied the immovable old sea captain.
"How dare you break in my door?" growled the squire.
"We shall do worse than that, squire, if you don't treat us respectfully."
"A man's house is his castle," added the squire, a little more moderately.
"That's very good law, but there isn't a house in Pinchbrook that is big
enough or strong enough to shield a traitor from the indignation of his
fellow-citizens. We do not purpose to harm you or your property, if you
behave like a reasonable man."
"You shall suffer for this outrage," gasped the squire, whose rage was
increased by the cool and civil manner of Captain Barney.
"When you closed the door in my face, I had intimated that your
fellow-citizens wish you to display the national flag."
"I refuse to do it, sir."
"Consider, squire, what you say. The people have made up their minds not
to tolerate a traitor within the corporate limits of the town of
Pinchbrook."
"I am no traitor."
"That is precisely what we wish you to demonstrate to your fellow-citizens
assembled outside to witness an exhibition of your patriotism."
"I will not do it on compulsion."
"Then, sir, we shall be obliged to resort to disagreeable measures."
"What do you mean by that, sir?" asked the squire, who was evidently
alarmed by the threat. "Do you mean to proceed to violence?"
"We do, Squire Pemberton," answered Captain Barney, decidedly.
"O my country!" sighed the victim, "has it come to this? The laws will no
longer protect her citizens."
"That's very fine, sir. Do you expect the laws to protect you while you
are aiding and abetting those who are trying to destroy them? Is there any
law to protect a traitor in his treason? But we waste time, Squire
Pemberton. Will you display the American flag?"
"Suppose I refuse?"
"We will pull your house down over your head. We will give you a coat of
tar and feathers, and remove you beyond the limits of the town. If you
ever come back, we will hang you to the nearest tree."
"Good Heaven! Is it possible that my fellow-citizens are
assassins--incendiaries!"
"Your answer, squire."
"For mercy's sake, husband, do what they ask," interposed his wife, who
had been an anxious listener in the adjoining room.
"I must do it," groaned the squire, speaking the truth almost for the
first time in forty-eight hours. "Alas! where is our boasted liberty of
speech!"
"Fudge! squire," replied Captain Barney, contemptuously. "If your friend
Jeff Davis should come to Massachusetts to-morrow, to preach a crusade
against the North, and to raise an army to destroy the free institutions
of the country, I suppose you think it would be an outrage upon free
speech to put him down. We don't think so. Up with the flag, squire."
"Fred, you may hang the flag out at the front window up stairs," said the
squire to his son.
"All right, squire. Now a few words more, and we bid you good night. You
may _think_ what you please, but if you utter another word of treason in
Pinchbrook during the term of your natural life, the party outside will
carry out the rest of the programme."
By this time Fred Pemberton had fastened the flag to one of his mother's
clothes poles, and suspended it out of the window over the porch. It was
hailed with three tremendous cheers by the multitude who were in waiting
to discipline the squire, and exorcise the evil spirit of treason and
secession.
The work of the evening was finished, not wholly to the satisfaction,
perhaps, of a portion of the younger members of the assemblage, who would
gladly have joined in the work of pillage and destruction, but much to the
gratification of the older and steadier portion of the crowd, who were
averse to violent proceedings.