CHAPTER VIII

I

"I have no desire to make a speech," Stephen began, "but I have asked

for this privilege of addressing you because we are moving through

critical times and because there are serious decisions to be made this

evening, which it is neither right nor possible for us to make without a

full consideration of the state of affairs. I have devoted much serious

thought to this subject. I have labored to arrive at a just conclusion,

and it is in that spirit that I would speak. I feel, too, that I have an

inalienable right as a free-born citizen to express my views freely and

publicly, as befits a loyal adherent of the principles which we are now

defending with our blood. And first among those principles is that which

guarantees representation in all matters that are of vital concern to

us."

He had not left his chair but continued to talk from his place beside

it, turning, however, somewhat in the direction of his audience. Silence

reigned throughout the room and every face was turned full upon him.

"I, too, had accepted the terms of enlistment on the plea of the

acquisition of our rights, so admirably exposed to us by our good

friend, Mr. Anderson. As I pondered the matter, however, I seriously

questioned whether this were the proper time for the employment of such

methods. What assurance have we,--if indeed assurance be needed,--that

this is not another trick of the enemy? Bear with me, please, while I

unfold to you my thoughts.

"Our leader and our guide in these matters, Mr. Anderson, has made known

to us that this business of recruiting has been a great success. But did

he tell us of the sinister methods which often had been resorted to, of

the many threats which had been exercised over a great number of us, of

the debts which had been relieved, of the intimidation which had been

employed? He declared with manifest satisfaction that the recruiting in

the city of New York had been marvelous in its results, yet he did not

explain to our satisfaction the reason which impelled the leaders of

this revolt to seek members from the neighboring cities to help swell

the ranks; nor did he tell of the means which had been made use of to

secure that marvelous number in the city, of all cities, where such

recruiting would be most successful because of the present British

occupation of the territory. Furthermore, he failed to tell us that he

himself is not a Catholic, or that his true name is not Anderson, or of

his history previous to his appearance in this city. Neither did he tell

us that Lieutenant-Colonel Clifton, while a Philadelphia Catholic, is a

British subject, having accepted British allegiance on the capture of

the city a year ago last September. There were many items of importance

which were not revealed to us. Shall I continue? I have an abundance of

facts to disclose to you, if you give me leave."

So favorable had been the impression produced by the speech of Anderson

that Stephen felt apprehensive lest his own criticism and contradiction

would not be accepted as true. And so he paused to learn if possible the

nature of his reception.

"Yes!... We want to hear them!... Tell us more!..."

There was a wild outburst of approval, followed by a generous

handclapping. In the confusion, Stephen observed Anderson together with

Colonel Clifton leave their places on the platform and take seats on the

side of the room.

"It is quite true that we have no quarrel with the English people. We

have no quarrel with their king or the framers of their laws. It is

equally true that the governments of Great Britain and the United

Colonies have become involved in a military struggle, a struggle to the

death; nevertheless we would be the last to imply that there exists any

essential antagonism of interests or purposes between the two peoples.

We are not engaged in a contest between Englishmen and Americans, but

between two antagonistic principles of government, each of which has its

advocates and its opponents among us who sit here, among those who live

with us in our own country, among those who reside in far-off England.

The contest is a political contest, the ancient contest between the Whig

and the Tory principles of government, the contest of Chatham and North,

and Richmond, Rockingham and Burke transferred to this side of the

Atlantic. The political liberty to which we have dedicated ourselves is

no product of our imaginations; our forefathers of the seventeenth

century brought it to our shores and now we naturally refuse to

surrender it. It is the principle for which we are contending,--the

principles that these United Colonies are and of a right ought to be

free and independent states; and in all matters else we are loyal foster

children of His Majesty the King, as loyal and as interested a people in

the welfare of the mother country as the most devoted subject of the

crown residing in the city of London.

"War was inevitable. This has been known for some time; but there has

been no lack of cordiality between the people of the United Kingdom and

the people of the United Colonies. We are opposed to certain principles

of statecraft, to the principle of taxation without representation, to

the same degree as are the Whigs of our mother country. We cherish the

warmest sentiments of love and admiration for the English people and we

are ready to become their brothers in arms at any future date for the

defense of those very ideals which we are now trying to establish,--the

blessings of democracy; but we abominate autocracy and will have none of

it. In this regard we may be said to have disinfected our anger, but

never to have diluted it."

The Tory element moved about in their seats, and Stephen suspected for a

moment that he was being treated with an air of disdain. He shifted his

point of view suddenly.

"To say that the Catholic people of this country are dissatisfied with

the conduct of the war is begging the question, and brands them with a

stigma which they wholly undeserve. We admit for the sake of argument

that our early cousins may have proved themselves somewhat intolerant,

and, perhaps, rendered conditions of life disagreeable to us; still gold

must be tried by the fire. We grow vigorous under storms of persecution.

And while it is true that the American Congress of 1774 protested

against the legislature of Great Britain establishing a 'religion

fraught with impious tenets,' yet it is equally true that the Congress

of 1776 resolved to protect 'all foreigners in the free exercise of

their respective religions.' The past has been buried by this; the

future lies before us.

"We do not grieve on that account. Rather are we proud of our adhesion

to the cause of independence, and you, yourselves, are no less proud of

your own efforts in this regard. The Commander-in-chief is warmly

disposed towards the Catholic element, not alone in the army, but among

the citizenry. His own bodyguard is composed of men, more than thirty of

whom bear Catholic names. One of his aides, Colonel Fitzgerald, is a

Catholic. His Captain and Commander of the Navy, nominated and appointed

by himself, is a Catholic, John Barry. We are appreciative of the

services of our General, and we are ready to render ourselves worthy of

the esteem and the respect in which we are held by him, as was evidenced

by his abolition of the celebration of Guy Fawkes Day, so detestable to

us.

"I repeat this to impress upon you that this is not the time for

religious controversy or for nicely calculating the scope and the extent

of our service. The temper of the times requires unity of action and

definition of purpose. Our people respect us. Whatever restrictions were

lodged against us in the past have been broken down now before the

battering ram of public opinion. The guarantees for the future given by

our own brethren, that we shall be permitted the free and unrestricted

exercise of our religious observances as well as the right to worship

God according to the dictates of our own consciences, are of more

endurable texture than the flimsy promises of the enemy. Our noble and

generous ally, France, already has procured for us that respect and

recognition so indispensable to our safety and, contrary to the opinion

already expressed here tonight, has sent us six thousand men, the first

installment of an army of at least twelve thousand trained soldiers,

destined to be put directly under General Washington's command. Together

with these she has already furnished Congress with large sums of money

to enable us to carry on the war. The dawn of a brighter day is now

breaking over the horizon and in the east the sun of justice and of

toleration and of liberty may be seen breaking through the low-hung

clouds of oppression, prejudice and tyranny which have so long obscured

it. In our history there has been no coward, no Tory, no traitor of our

faith. We are still Loyalists; but of different type. That precious and

historic document of July 4, 1776, definitely and for all time absolved

us from all allegiance to the British Crown. By nature, then, we have

become citizens of a new government, a government instituted by and

subject to the peoples of these free and independent states. Henceforth,

Loyalty assumes a newer and most lasting significance;--it has suddenly

become for us synonymous with the best and dearest interests of our

country."

He paused.

II

The sigh throughout the room was distinctly audible as he ended his

paragraph with a rhetorical pause. He caught the sound on the instant

and understood its meaning as the orator, holding his audience in

breathless intensity, allows them to drop suddenly that he may

appreciate his control of their feelings. Their pent-up energies give

way to an abrupt relaxation followed by a slight scuffling of the body

or an intermittent cough. From these unconscious indications, Stephen

knew that he had held their interest and he did not intend that they

should be allowed to compose themselves quite, until he had finished. He

began at once on the evidence of the plot.

"The members of this proposed company before whom I have the privilege

of speaking, have been the victims of a gigantic plot, a plot that found

its origin in the headquarters of the British army at New York City. It

was to advance the plan that John Anderson came to Philadelphia. He had

carried on communication with the enemy almost without interruption.

Because the work of recruiting in the city of the enemy was a failure,

it was decreed that the city of Philadelphia, as the most Tory of the

American cities, be called upon for the requisite number. Of the

progress here, you already know. Of the multifarious means employed, you

yourselves can bear excellent witness. Of the ultimate success of the

venture you are now about to decide.

"The Military Governor, General Arnold, was early initiated into the

scheme. For a long time he has borne a fierce grudge against Congress,

and he hoped that the several Catholic members of the body might be

induced to forsake the American cause. They sought Father Farmer, our

good pastor, as chaplain of the regiment, but he refused with mingled

delicacy and tact. Indeed, were it not for the hostile state of the

public mind, a campaign of violence would have been resorted to; but

Arnold felt the pulse of dislike throbbing in the heart of the community

and very wisely refrained from increasing its fervor. All possible aid

was furnished by him, however, in a secret manner. His counsel was

generously given. Many of your names were supplied by him together with

an estimate of your financial standing, your worth in the community,

your political tendencies, the strength of your religious convictions.

And what a comparatively simple matter it was for one thus equipped to

accomplish so marvelous and so satisfactory results!

"I repeat, then, General Arnold is strongly prejudiced against us. It is

an open secret that Catholic soldiers have fared ill at his hands.

Tories and Jews compose his retinue, but no Catholics. I am not critical

in this respect for I observe that he is enjoying but a personal

privilege. But I allude to this fact at this moment to assure you that

this scheme of forming a regiment of Roman Catholic Volunteers is

directed solely to subvert the good relations already existing between

us and our brethren in arms. The promises made bore no hope of

fulfillment. The guarantees of immunity deserve no consideration. The

Quebec Act, and for this I might say in passing that we are duly

grateful, was never to be extended. In view of these observations, I ask

you: are you willing to continue with this nefarious business? Are you?"

"No!" was the interruption. The outburst was riotous. "Arrest the

traitor!... I move we adjourn!..."

Stephen held out his hands in supplication to beseech them to hear him

further.

"Please, gentlemen! Just one more word," he pleaded.

They stood still and listened.

"Has it occurred to you, let me ask, that the vessel which has been

engaged to transport you to the city of New York is named the _Isis_, a

sloop well known to sea-faring men of this city? She is owned by

Philadelphia citizens and manned by a local crew. Does not this strike

you as remarkably strange and significant,--that a vessel of this

character should clear this port and enter the port of the enemy without

flying the enemy's flag? Think of it, gentlemen! An American vessel with

an American crew employed by the enemy, and chartered to aid and abet

the enemy's cause!"

They resumed their seats to give their undivided attention to this new

topic of interest. Some sat alert, only partly on the chair; some sat

forward with their chins resting in the palms of their hands. So

absorbed were all in astonishment and amazement, that no other thought

gave them any concern save that of the vessel. The side door had opened

and closed, yet no one seemed to notice the occurrence. Even Stephen had

failed to observe it.

"As a matter of fact," he continued, "the ship has not been chartered by

the enemy. She is about to clear this port and enter the port of the

enemy by virtue of a pass issued through General Arnold.... Please, just

a moment, until I conclude," he exclaimed, holding out his hand with a

restraining gesture. "This matter has heretofore been a close secret,

but it is necessary now that the truth should be known. To issue a pass

for such an errand is a violation of the American Articles of War and

for this offense I now formally charge Major-General Benedict Arnold

with treason."

"The traitor!... Court-martial him!..." shouted several voices.

"I charge him with being unfaithful to his trust. He had made use of our

wagons to transport the property of the enemy at a time when the lines

of communication of the enemy were no farther distant than Egg Harbor.

He has allowed many of our people to enter and leave the lines of the

enemy. He has illegally concerned himself over the profits of a

privateer. He has imposed, or at any rate has given his sanction to the

imposition of menial offices upon the sons of freedom who are now

serving in the militia, as was the case with young Matlack, which you

will remember. And he has of late improperly granted a pass for a vessel

to clear for the port of the enemy. I desire to make these charges

publicly in order that you may know that my criticisms are not without

foundation. I have in view your welfare alone."

"Aye!... We believe you!... Let us adjourn!"

"Let me ask Mr. Anderson one or two questions. If they can be answered

to your satisfaction we shall accept his overtures. On the other hand

let us dispense once and for all with this nefarious business and

frustrate this insidious conspiracy so that we may renew our energies

for the task before us which alone matters--the task of overcoming the

enemy.

"First! Who has financed the organization, equipment, transportation of

this regiment of Roman Catholic Volunteers?

"Second: From what source or sources originated the various methods of

blackmail?

"Third: Who first suggested the cooperation of General Arnold?

"Fourth: What pressure was brought to bear in the obtaining of the

passport for the vessel to clear port?"

III

But there was no Anderson to give answer. It was found that he, together

with Colonel Clifton and several members of the party, had disappeared

from the room. No one had remembered seeing them take their departure,

yet it was observed that they had left the platform in the course of

Stephen's speech to take seats on the further side of the hall, near to

the door. This might have opened and closed several times during

Stephen's speech, and, more especially, at the time when they had

crowded the aisles near the close of the address, and little or no

attention would have been paid to it. Very likely Anderson had taken

advantage of such an opportunity to make an escape.

It was a very different room now. What had been a state of remarkable

quiet with every man in his seat, with the conversation hardly above the

tone of a whisper, with the uniform tranquillity disturbed solely by the

remarks of the two speakers, was now giving way to a precipitous uproar

which approached a riot. Men surged about one another and about Stephen

in an endeavor to learn the details of the plot. Groups separated

themselves from other equally detached groups, all absorbed, however, in

the same topic. Voices, formerly hushed, now became vociferous. The

walls reverberated with the tumultuous confusion.

"What dupes!" one was remarking to his neighbor. "How easily were we led

by his smooth talk!"

"We were misguided in our motives of allegiance. We might have sensed a

trick of the enemy," was the reply.

"Let us win the war, first," shouted a third.

"Aye! Freedom first; then religious liberty."

"Who is he?" another asked. "It cannot be Cadwalader."

"No," answered the neighbor. "This was prearranged. He borrowed

Cadwalader's card to come here."

"I always told you Arnold was no good," sounded a great voice. "He'd

sell us to the devil if he could get paid for it. I suppose he'll go to

New York sure."

"Let him. Wish he was out of here."

"Say!" one asked Stephen rather abruptly. "How did you get all this

straight?"

"I interested myself the moment the scheme took root. I assured myself

that all was not as it should be and I took pains to verify my

suspicions," was the grave reply.

"I know, but how did ye get 'em?"

"By following every move this Anderson made. I tracked him even to Mount

Pleasant."

"And got beforehand with Arnold?"

"I overheard the major portion of the conversation."

"Pardon me," asked another individual, neater in appearance than the

majority, and evidently of more education, "but have I not seen you

before?"

"Perhaps you have," laughed Stephen.

"Where?"

"I could not begin to imagine."

"Where do you live? In town?"

"For the present, yes."

"Who are you?"

"Can't you see? Just one of you?"

"Never saw you in those clothes before. If I am not greatly mistaken you

are the one who came to the Coffee House one day with Matt. Allison."

"Yes," admitted Stephen, "I am the same."

"How did you come by those clothes?"

"Borrowed them."

"In disguise, eh?"

"It was necessary to simulate a disguise. Otherwise I could never have

gained admission here. I learned that Jim Cadwalader had been impressed

into the company and I arranged to come in his place."

"Oh!"

"You took a mighty big risk."

"It was required. But I knew that there was but one way of playing this

game and that was to defeat them openly by their own tactics. I had to

depend, of course, upon the temper of the proposed members. All might be

lost or won at one throw of the dice. I worded my remarks to that

effect, and I won."

"What did you say your name was?"

"I did not say what it was," Stephen exchanged in good-natured repartee,

"but since you ask, it is Meagher."

"Captain Meagher?"

Stephen smiled.

It must have been fully half-past nine when the meeting broke up; and

that was at the departure of Stephen. He had lingered long enough to

assure himself that the company was of a mind far different from that

which had engaged them upon their arrival. They were now to go forth

wiser men. But they knew that the people of the city could be moved

quickly to indignation--as quickly, indeed, as they could be moved to

favor. And how were they to explain their conduct? They resolved to lay

the story with all its details before the very table of public opinion

and allow that tribunal to discriminate between the shades of guilt.

Anderson, of course, had fled. That in itself was a confession and a

point in their favor. It was plain to their minds that they had been

victimized by the clever machinations of this man. If there had been any

lack of unity of opinion concerning the righteousness of the project

before, there was no divided opinion now. They knew what they were about

to do, and they made all possible haste to put their thought into

execution.

The ancient antipathy against the Military Governor was only intensified

the more. Rumor would confirm the charges that would be published

against him, of that they would take proper care. It was enough that

they had been deluded by Anderson, but to be mere pawns in the hands of

Arnold was more than they could stand. Too long had he been tolerated

with his Tory wife and her manner of living, and now was an opportunity.

Their path of duty was outlined before them.

Thoroughly satisfied with his evening's work, Stephen turned down the

street whistling softly to himself.

The Loyalist A Story of the American Revolution · 第 8 / 12 章