articles in the shop windows, at the clock on the Old Brick
Meetinghouse, the barracks of the soldiers,--the king's Twenty-Ninth
Regiment.[14] Some of the redcoats were polishing their gun barrels
and bayonets, others smoking their pipes. Beyond the barracks a little
distance he saw Mr. Gray's ropewalk. He turned through Mackerel Lane
and came to the Bunch of Grapes Tavern,[15] and just beyond it the
Admiral Vernon. He strolled to Long Wharf. The king's warship, Romney,
was riding at anchor near by, and a stately merchant ship was coming
up the harbor. The fragrance of the sea was in the air. Upon the wharf
were hogsheads of molasses unloaded from a vessel just arrived from
Jamaica. Boys had knocked out a bung and were running a stick into the
hole and lapping the molasses. The sailors lounging on the wharf were
speaking a language he could not understand. For the first time in his
life he was in touch, as it were, with the great world beyond the sea.
[Footnote 14: The troops were ordered to Boston in 1765, in
consequence of the riots growing out of the passage of the Stamp Act,
the mob having sacked the house of Chief Justice Thomas Hutchinson.
Though the Stamp Act had been repealed, and though the citizens were
orderly and law-abiding, the regiments remained.]
[Footnote 15: The Bunch of Grapes Tavern stood on the corner of
Mackerel Lane and King Street, now Kilby and State streets. Its sign
was three clusters of grapes. It was a noted tavern, often patronized
by the royal governors. In July, 1776, the Declaration of Independence
was read to the people from its balcony. After hearing it they tore
the lion and unicorn, and all emblems of British authority, from the
Custom House, Court House, and Town House, and made a bonfire of them
in front of the tavern.]
During the day he had met several of the king's soldiers, swaggering
along the streets as if privileged to do as they pleased, regardless
of the people. Two, whom he had seen drinking toddy in the Admiral
Vernon, swayed against him.
"Hello, clodhopper! How's yer dad and marm?" said one.
Robert felt the hot blood mount to his brow.
"Say, bumpkin, how did ye get away from your ma's apron-string?" said
the other.
"He hasn't got the pluck of a goslin," said the first.
Robert set his teeth together, but made no reply, and walked away. He
felt like pitching them headforemost into the dock, and was fearful he
might do something which, in cooler blood, he would wish he had not
done.
By what right were they strolling the streets of an orderly town?
Those who supported the king said they were there to maintain the
dignity of the crown. True, a mob had battered the door of Thomas
Hutchinson, but that had been settled. The people were quiet, orderly,
law-abiding. The sentinel by the Town House glared at him as he walked
up King Street, as if ready to dispute his right to do so. He saw a
bookstore on the corner of the street, and with a light heart entered
it. A tall, broad-shouldered young man welcomed him.
"May I look at your books?" Robert asked.
"Certainly; we have all those recently published in London, and a
great many pamphlets printed here in the Colonies," the young man
replied.
"I live in the country. We do not have many books in New Hampshire,"
said Robert.
"Oh, from New Hampshire? Please make yourself at home, and look at any
book you please. My name is Henry Knox,"[16] said the young man.
[Footnote 16: Mr. Knox was clerk in the bookstore kept by Daniel
Henchman. In 1773 he began business on his own account on Cornhill now
Washington Street, upon the site now occupied by the _Globe_
newspaper. His store was frequented by the officers of the regiments,
and doubtless he obtained from them information that he turned to good
account during the war.]
"I am Robert Walden."
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walden, and shall be glad
to render you any service in my power. Is this your first visit to
town?"
Robert said it was. He could only gaze in wonder at the books upon the
shelves. He had not thought there could be so many in the world. Mr.
Knox saw the growing look of astonishment.
"What can I show you? Perhaps you do not care for sermons. We have a
good many; ministers like to see their sermons in print. I think
perhaps you will like this better," said Mr. Knox, taking down a copy
of the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. "You will find it very
interesting; just sit down and look at it."
Robert seated himself in a chair and read the story of the Forty
Thieves.
"Do you think these are true stories?" he asked when he had finished
it.
Mr. Knox replied they were true in so far as they described the
manners and customs of the people of Arabia and Persia. He did not
doubt the stories had been told in Babylon, Nineveh, and Damascus, and
he might think of the people in those cities sitting in the calm
evenings under the almond-trees on the banks of the Euphrates or the
river Abana listening to the story-teller, who probably did his best
to make the story entertaining.
"Doubtless," said Mr. Knox, "we think it would not be possible for
things to happen as they are narrated, but I am not quite sure about
that. One of the stories, for instance, tells how a man went through
the air on a carpet. We think it cannot be true, but here is a
pamphlet which tells how Henry Cavendish, in England, a little while
ago discovered a gas which he calls hydrogen. It is ten times lighter
than air--so light that another gentleman, Mr. Black, filled a bag
with it which took him off his feet and carried him round the room, to
the astonishment of all who beheld it. I shouldn't be surprised if by
and by we shall be able to travel through the air by a bag filled with
such gas."
Robert listened with intense interest, not being able to comprehend
how anything could be lighter than air. He was not quite sure that his
father and mother would approve of his reading a book that was not
strictly true, and he was sure that the good minister and deacons of
the church would shake their heads solemnly were they to know it; but
he could read it on his way home and hide it in the haymow and read it
on rainy days in the barn. But that would not be manly. No, he could
not do that. He would tell his father and mother and Rachel about it,
and read it to them by the kitchen fire. Hit or miss, he would
purchase the book.
Mr. Knox kindly offered to show him the Town House. They crossed the
street, and entered the council chamber. Lieutenant-Governor
Hutchinson and the members of the council were sitting in their
armchairs, wearing white wigs and scarlet cloaks. Their gold-laced
hats were lying on their desks. Lieutenant-Colonel Dalrymple,
commanding the king's troops, was seated by the side of Governor
Hutchinson as a visitor. Upon the walls were portraits of Kings
Charles II. and James II. in gilded frames; also portraits of
Governors Winthrop, Endicott, and Bradstreet.
Thanking Mr. Knox for his kindness, Robert passed into the street,
took a look at the stocks and pillory, and wondered if that was the
best way to punish those who had committed petty offenses.
He saw a girl tripping along the street. A young lieutenant in command
of the sentinels around the Town House stared rudely at her. In
contrast to the leering look of the officer, the negro servants
filling their pails at the pump were very respectful in giving her
room to pass. He saw the two soldiers who had attempted to pick a
quarrel with him on the wharf, emerge from an alley. One chucked the
young lady under the chin: the other threw his arm around her and
attempted to steal a kiss. Robert heard a wild cry, and saw her
struggle to be free. With a bound he was by her side. His right arm
swung through the air, and his clenched fist came down like a
sledge-hammer upon the head of the ruffian, felling him to the earth.
The next moment the other was picked up and plunged headforemost into
the watering-trough. No word had been spoken. The girl, as if not
comprehending what had happened, stood amazed before him.
"Thank you, sir; I never shall forget your kindness," she said,
dropping a low courtesy and walking rapidly up Queen Street.
Never before had he seen a face like hers, a countenance that would
not fade from memory, although he saw it but a moment.
Suddenly he found himself confronted by the lieutenant, who came
running from the Town House, with flashing eyes and drawn sword.
Robert did not run, but looked him squarely in the face.
"What do you mean, you"--
The remainder of the sentence is not recorded: the printed page is
cleaner without it.
"I meant to teach the villains not to insult a lady."
"I've a good mind to split your skull open," said the lieutenant,
white with rage, but not knowing what to make of a man so calm and
resolute.
"Let me get at him! Let me get at him! I'll knock the daylight out of
him," shouted the fellow whom Robert had felled to the ground, but who
had risen and stood with clenched fists. The other, the while, was
clambering from the trough, wiping the water from his face and ready
to rush upon Robert, angered all the more by the jeers of the grinning
negroes.
"What is all this about?"
It was Lieutenant-Colonel Dalrymple speaking. He had seen the
commotion from the window of the council chamber, and hastened to the
scene. "Put up your sword," he said to the lieutenant.
"What have you been doing, sir?" he asked, turning sternly to Robert.
"Suppose you first ask those two fellows what they've been doing?
Nevertheless, Colonel, lest you might not get a true answer, allow me
to say that they insulted a lady, that I knocked one down and tossed
the other into the watering-trough, to teach them better manners. For
doing it your lieutenant has seen fit to draw his sword and threaten
to split my head open."
It was said quietly and calmly.
"What have you to say to that?" Colonel Dalrymple asked, addressing
the soldiers, who made no reply.
"Lieutenant, take them to the guardhouse, and consider yourself under
arrest till I can look into this matter. Don't you know better than to
draw your sword against a citizen in this way?"
The lieutenant made no reply, but looked savagely at Robert, as if to
say, "I'll have it out with you sometime," sheathed his sword and
turned away, following the crestfallen soldiers to the guardhouse.
Colonel Dalrymple bowed courteously, as if to apologize for the insult
to the lady. Robert came to the conclusion that he was a gentleman.
The negroes were laughing and chuckling and telling the rapidly
gathering crowd what had happened. Robert, having no desire to be
made conspicuous, walked up Queen Street. He tarried a moment to look
at the iron-grated windows and double-bolted doors of the jail, then
turned down Hanover Street and made his way to the Green Dragon.
III.
THE SONS OF LIBERTY.
"Is it far to Doctor Warren's house?" Robert asked of the landlord
after supper.
"Oh no, only a few steps around the corner on Hanover Street. So you
are going to call on him, just as your father always does. You will
find him a nice gentleman. He is kind to the poor, charging little or
nothing when they are sick and need doctoring. He isn't quite thirty
years old, but there isn't a doctor in town that has a larger
practice. He is a true patriot. I heard a man say the other day that
if Joe Warren would only let politics alone he would soon be riding in
his own coach. The rich Tories don't like him much. They say it was he
who gave Governor Bernard such a scorching in Ben Edes's newspaper
awhile ago. He is eloquent when he gets fired up. You ought to hear
him in town meeting; you won't find him stuck up one mite; you can
talk with him just as you do with me."
With the cheese under his arm Robert walked along Hanover Street to
Doctor Warren's house[17]. It was a wooden building standing end to
the road. Entering a small yard, he rattled the knocker on the door.
The doctor opened it.
[Footnote 17: The home of Doctor Warren stood upon the spot now
occupied by the American House. It was a plain structure and was
surrounded a garden. Mrs. Warren--Elizabeth Hooton before
marriage--was the daughter of Richard Hooton, a merchant possessing
large wealth. She was beautiful in person and character. She died May,
1773. The Boston _Gazette_ contained an appreciative tribute to her
worth.
"Good sense and modesty with virtue crowned;
A sober mind when fortune smiled or frowned.
So keen a feeling for a friend distressed,
She could not bear to see a man oppressed."]
"Good-evening; will you walk in?" he said. It was a pleasant, cheery
voice, one to make a sick person feel well.
"Please step into the office."
Robert entered a room smelling of rhubarb, jalap, ipecac, and other
medicines in bottles and packages on the shelves.
Sincere and hearty were the thanks of Doctor Warren for the present.
"I want Mrs. Warren to make your acquaintance," he said.
A beautiful woman entered and gave Robert a cordial greeting.
"It is very kind of you to bring us such a gift. It is not the first
time your father has made us happy," she said. "We must find some way,
husband, to let Mr. Walden know we appreciate his kindness."
"That is so, wife."
"We live so far away," said Robert, "we do not know what is going on.
Father wishes me especially to learn the latest news from London in
regard to the proposed tax on tea, and what the Colonies are going to
do about it."
"That is a very important matter," the doctor replied, "and we are to
have a meeting of the Sons of Liberty this evening to consider what
shall be done in case the bill now before Parliament becomes a law, as
I have no doubt it will. I shall be pleased to have you go with me. Of
course our meetings are somewhat secret. We do not care to have any
mousing Tory know just what we intend to do. You will have a hearty
welcome from the boys. It is only a few steps from here, at the Green
Dragon."
"That is where I am stopping," Robert replied.
"You can say to your father," the doctor continued, "that the redcoats
are becoming very insolent, and we fear there will be trouble."
Robert said nothing about his experience at the town pump.
"Tommy Hutchinson," the doctor went on, "is acting governor. He is not
the hyena Bernard was. Hutchinson was born here. He is a gentleman,
but loves office. I would not do him any injustice, but being in
office he naturally sides with the ministry. He does not see which way
the people are going. King George believes that he himself is chosen
of God to rule us, and Lord North is ready to back him up. The people
around the king are sycophants who are looking after their own
personal advantage. The ministers know very little about affairs in
the Colonies. They are misled by Bernard and others. They are
determined to raise revenue from the Colonies, but will be
disappointed. But we will go round to the Green Dragon."
[Illustration: DOCTOR JOSEPH WARREN]
They reached the tavern. Doctor Warren nodded to the landlord, and led
the way up the stairs along the hall and gave four raps on a door.
One of the panels swung open. A man on the other side said something
which Robert could not understand, neither could he make out what the
doctor said in reply. The panel closed, the door opened, and they
passed into a large room dimly lighted by two tallow candles. A dozen
or more young men were seated in chairs around a table smoking their
pipes. At one end of the table was a large punch-bowl, a basket filled
with lemons, a bottle of rum, a plate of crackers, and half a cheese.
One young man was slicing lemons and making rum punch. All clapped
their hands when they saw Doctor Warren.
"I have brought a young friend; he is from New Hampshire and as true
as steel," said the doctor.
"Boys," said Amos Lincoln, "this is the gentleman I was telling you
about; let's give him three cheers."
The room rang. Robert did not know what to make of it; neither did
Doctor Warren till Amos Lincoln told how he had seen Mr. Walden at the
town pump, knocking down one lobster, throwing another into the
watering-trough, and calmly confronting the prig of a lieutenant. When
Amos finished, all came and shook hands with Robert.
Mr. John Rowe called the meeting to order.
"Since our last meeting," he said, "a ship has arrived bringing the
news that the king and ministers are determined to levy an export duty
of three pence per pound on tea: that is, all tea exported from
England will be taxed to that extent. Of course, we could pay it if we
chose, but we shall not so choose."
The company clapped their hands.
"We have sent round papers for the merchants to sign an agreement that
they will not sell any tea imported from England. All have signed it
except Hutchinson's two sons, Governor Bernard's son-in-law,
Theophilus Lillie, and two others. The agreement does not prevent the
merchants from selling tea imported from Holland. The Tories, of
course, will patronize the merchants who have not signed the
agreement, and the question for us to consider is how we shall keep
out the tea to be imported by the East India Company."
"We must make it hot for 'em," said Mr. Mackintosh.
"The tea, do you mean?" shouted several.
There was a ripple of laughter.
"I don't see but that we shall have to quit drinking tea," said Doctor
Warren. "We drink altogether too much. It has become a dissipation. We
drink it morning, noon, and night. Some of the old ladies of my
acquaintance keep the teapot on the coals pretty much all the time.
Our wives meet in the afternoon to sip tea and talk gossip. The girls
getting ready to be married invite their mates to quiltings and serve
them with Old Hyson. We have garden tea-parties on bright afternoons
in summer and evening parties in winter. So much tea, such frequent
use of an infusion of the herb, upsets our nerves, impairs healthful
digestion, and brings on sleeplessness. I have several patients--old
ladies, and those in middle life--whose nerves are so unstrung that I
am obliged to dose them with opium occasionally, to enable them to
sleep."
"Do you think we can induce the ladies to quit drinking it?" Mr.
Molineux asked.
"I am quite sure Mrs. Warren will cheerfully give it up, as will Mrs.
Molineux if her husband should set the example," Doctor Warren
replied.
Mr. Molineux said he was ready to banish the teapot from his table.
"I believe," continued the doctor, "that the women of America will be
ready to give up the gratification of their appetites to maintain a
great principle. They will sacrifice all personal considerations to
secure the rights of the Colonies. Parliament proposes to tax this
country without our having a voice in the matter. It is a seductive
and insidious proposition--this export duty. I suppose they think we
are simpletons, and will be caught in the trap they are setting. They
think we are so fond of tea we shall continue to purchase it, but the
time has come when we must let them know there is nothing so precious
to us as our rights and liberties; that we can be resolute in little
as well as in great things. I dare say that some of you, like myself,
have invitations to Mrs. Newville's garden party to-morrow afternoon.
I expect to attend, but it will be the last tea-party for me, if the
bill before Parliament becomes a law. Mrs. Newville is an estimable
lady, a hospitable hostess; having accepted an invitation to be
present, it would be discourteous for me to inform her I could not
drink a cup of tea from her hand, but I have made up my mind
henceforth to stand resolutely for maintaining the principle
underlying it all,--a great fundamental, political principle,--our
freedom."
The room rang with applause.
"Sometimes, as some of you know, I try my hand at verse-making. I will
read a few lines."
FREE AMERICA.
That seat of Science, Athens,
And earth's proud mistress, Rome:
Where now are all their glories?
We scarce can find their tomb.
Then guard your rights, Americans,
Nor stoop to lawless sway;
Oppose, oppose, oppose,
For North America.
We led fair Freedom hither,
And lo, the desert smiled,
A paradise of pleasure
Was opened in the wild.
Your harvest, bold Americans,
No power shall snatch away.
Huzza, huzza, huzza,
For free America.
Some future day shall crown us
The masters of the main;
Our fleets shall speak in thunder
To England, France, and Spain.
And nations over ocean spread
Shall tremble and obey
The sons, the sons, the sons,
Of brave America.
Captain Mackintosh sang it, and the hall rang with cheers.
"It is pitiable," said Mr. Rowe, "that the people of England do not
understand us better, but what can we expect when a member of
Parliament makes a speech like that delivered by Mr. Stanley just
before the last ship sailed. Hear it."
Mr. Rowe, taking a candle in one hand and snuffing it with his thumb
and finger, read an extract from the speech: "What will become of that
insolent town, Boston, when we deprive the inhabitants of the power of
sending their molasses to the coast of Africa? The people of that town
must be treated as aliens, and the charters of towns in Massachusetts
must be changed so as to give the king the appointment of the
councilors, and give the sheriffs the sole power of returning juries."
"The ignoramus," continued Mr. Rowe, "does not know that no molasses
is made in these Colonies. He confounds this and the other Colonies
with Jamaica. One would suppose Lord North would not be quite so
bitter, but he said in a recent speech that America must be made to
fear the king; that he should go on with the king's plan until we were
prostrate at his feet."
"Not much will we get down on our knees to him," said Peter Bushwick.
"Since the war with France, to carry on which the Colonies contributed
their full share, the throne isn't feared quite as much as it was.
Americans are not in the habit of prostrating themselves."
Captain Mackintosh once more broke into a song.
"Come join hand in hand, Americans all;
By uniting we stand, dividing we fall.
To die we can bear, but to serve we disdain,
For shame is to freedom more dreadful than pain.
In freedom we're born, in freedom we'll live.
Our purses are ready: steady, boys, steady,
Not as slaves but as freemen our money we'll give."
The Sons again clapped their hands and resolved that they would drink
no more tea. The formal business of the evening being ended, they
broke into groups, helped themselves to crackers and cheese, and
lighted their pipes.
A young man about Robert's age came and shook hands with him.
"Did I understand correctly that you are Robert Walden from Rumford?"
he asked.
"That is my name, and I am from Rumford."
"Then we are cousins; I am Tom Brandon."
"I was intending to call upon you to-morrow."
"You must go with me to-night. Father and mother never would forgive
me if I did not take you along, especially when I tell them how you
rubbed it into the king's lobsters."
The bells were ringing for nine o'clock--the hour when everybody in
Boston made preparations for going to bed. All the Sons of Liberty
came and shook hands with Robert.
"It is the most wholesome lesson the villains have had since they
landed at Long Wharf," said Doctor Warren, who hoped to have the
pleasure of seeing more of Mr. Walden.
"We must rely upon such as you in the struggle which we are yet to
have to maintain our liberties," said Mr. Molineux.
Tom Brandon took Robert with him to his home on Copp's Hill. Robert
could see by the light of the moon that it was a large wooden house
with a hipped roof, surmounted by a balustrade, fronting the burial
ground and overlooking the harbor and a wide reach of surrounding
country.
"Why, Robert Walden! where did you come from?" Mr. Brandon exclaimed
as Tom ushered him into the sitting-room.
"What! stopping at the Green Dragon! Why didn't you come right here,
you naughty boy?"
He tinkled a bell and a negro entered the room.
"Mark Antony, go up to the Green Dragon and get this gentleman's
trunk. Tell the landlord I sent you. Hold on a moment: it is after
nine o'clock, and the watchman may overhaul you and want to know what
you are doing. You must have an order."
Mr. Brandon stepped to a writing-desk and wrote an order, receiving
which Mark Antony bowed and took his departure.