University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

Hon. Thomas Dawes.

On the following day, the Court of Assizes and the
Supreme Court met in the Council Chamber. Four of
the judges wore “voluminous wigs, broad bands, and
robes of scarlet cloth.” The Chief Justice alone entered
without the customary badges of his profession.
A plain suit of black, which he had worn on the preceding
night, was all that had been saved from the enraged
populace.

A murmur of indignation ran through the court when
he appeared; and it was very evident that the citizens
of Boston deeply regretted, and severely discountenanced
the shameless outrages they had been compelled to
witness. Nothing was now heard of the political bitterness
and personal abuse that had, of late, mingled too
frequently with their public debates; on the contrary,
respectful and conciliating attention marked the whole
assembly;—and when the court were about to adjourn,
Samuel Adams arose and requested all the lovers of
genuine freedom to meet at Faneuil Hall, to pass some
resolves concerning the indemnification of Hutchinson's
losses, and to take proper measures to prevent such excesses
in future.

A crowded meeting accordingly took place. Without
one dissenting voice, they passed resolutions to patrole
the streets from sunset to sunrise, and to petition the
Legislature that the ruined mansion of the Chief Justice
should be repaired at the expense of the state.

The friends of government pretended to look on all
this as the artful manœuvres of men anxious to ward
off the effects of their crime. To further their tyrannical
design of obtaining military assistance from England,
the two governors chose to represent the affair as the
spontaneous movement of the whole town, suggested
and aided by its best and most influential citizens; and
one of Bernard's friends, who had accompanied Somerville
to the hall, was impolitic enough to say aloud,
“This is a sheer pretence. The legislature approve of
the transaction; and would publicly vindicate it, if they
dared. All this only serves to show that they have not
spirit enough to carry them through.”

With a face of flame, James Otis arose and answered,
“You assert what no honest man can believe, sir. A
policy as wicked as it is shallow, can alone induce our
enemies to give currency to such an opinion. Affect a
disbelief, if you please; but you well know that all the
nerve and sinew of the community were exerted to stem
the torrent of popular fury, during the whole of the
last fearful night.

“I do not oppose the resolutions in favour of Governor
Hutchinson. No one more sincerely regrets the
insults offered his person, and the injury done to his
property; but I cannot restrain my indignation, when I

hear the public virtue, that so promptly recoils from
undue violence, stigmatized as time-serving conwardice.
Some will mistake my zeal for personal resentment;
but those who understand me well, will hear, in my voice,
the thundering echo of a free people, who cannot be
silenced, and who will not be mocked.

“Let him who dares to say we have not spirit sufficient
to resist oppression, look at the fallen cupola, the
prostrate pillars, the tattered hangings, and the ruined
walls in Friezel Court!

“God forbid that I should thus recapitulate in order
to add insult to outrage. I merely wish to prove that
the spirit which cannot be controlled by friends, will
never be overcome by enemies.

“England may as well dam up the waters of the
Nile with bulrushes, as to fetter the step of Freedom,
more proud and firm in this youthful land, than where
she treads the sequestered glens of Scotland, or couches
herself among the magnificent mountains of Switzerland.

“Arbitrary principles, like those against which we now
contend, have cost one king of England his life, another
his crown,—and they may yet cost a third his most
flourishing colonies.

“We are two millions strong,—one fifth fighting men.

“We are bold and vigorous,—and we call no man
master.

“To a nation from whom we are proud to derive our
origin, we ever were, and we ever will be, ready to yield
unforced assistance; but it must not, and it never can
be extorted!” exclaimed he, striking his hand, till the
hall rung again.

Low murmurs of “Treason! treason!” were heard
in some parts of the room, and Henry Osborne, fearing
his vehemence might betray him into danger, gently
touched his arm. “Am I not of age?” said Otis, petulantly;
but instantly calming his irritation, he continued,

“Some have sneeringly asked, Are the Americans
too poor to pay a few pounds on stamped paper? No!
America, thanks to God and herself, is rich. But the
right to take ten pounds implies the right to take a thousand;
and what must be the wealth that avarice, aided
by power, cannot exhaust?

“True, the spectre is now small; but the shadow he
casts before him is huge enough to darken all this fair
land.

“Others, in sentimental style, talk of the immense
debt of gratitude which we owe to England. And
what is the amount of this debt? Why, truly, it is the
same that the young lion owes to the dam, which has
brought it forth on the solitude of the mountain, or left
it amid the winds and storms of the desert.

“We plunged into the wave with the magna charta of
freedom in our teeth, because the faggot and the torch
were behind us. We have waked this new world from
its savage lethargy; forests have been prostrated in our
path; towns and cities have grown up suddenly as the
flowers of the tropics, and the fires in our autumnal
woods are scarcely more rapid than the increase of our
wealth and population.

“And do we owe all this to the kind succour of our
mother country? No! we owe it to the tyranny that

drove us from her,—to the pelting storms, which invigorated
our helpless infancy.

“But perhaps others will say, we ask no money from
your gratitude,—we only demand that you should pay
your own expenses.

“And who, I pray, is to judge of their necessity?
Why, the king—(and, with all due reverence to his sacred
majesty, he understands the real wants of his distant
subjects, as little as he does the language of the
Choctaws.) Who is to judge concerning the frequency
of these demands? The ministry. Who is to judge
whether the money is properly expended? The cabinet
behind the throne.

“In every instance, those who take are to judge for
those who pay; and if this system is suffered to go into
operation, we shall have reason to esteem it a great privilege,
that rain and dew do not depend upon parliament;
otherwise they would soon be taxed and dried.

“But, thanks be to God, there is freedom enough left
upon earth to resist such monstrous injustice. The
flame of liberty is extinguished in Greece and Rome,
but the light of its glowing embers is still bright and
strong on the shores of America. Actuated by its sacred
influence, we will resist unto death. But we will
not countenance anarchy and misrule. The wrongs
that a desperate community have heaped upon their
enemies, shall be amply and speedily repaired. Still,
it may be well for some proud men to remember that
a fire is lighted in these Colonies, which one breath of
theirs may kindle into such fury, that the blood of all
England cannot extinguish it.”

A murmur of delight ran through the whole assembly.
The impetuous eloquence of his manner swept every
thing before it. Loud and reiterated applause began to
resound through the building; and shouts of “Otis forever!
the friend of the people!” were heard around
the doors. Even the friends of the administration had
awaited his conclusion in breathless admiration. True,
the charm ceased with his voice; and though the involuntary
tribute they had paid to talents and integrity
could not be recalled, it was immediately overbalanced
by threatening words and scornful smiles.

To have surprised an enemy into unwilling praise,
must give a delightful consciousness of mental power to
the greatest and best of minds; but intellect has a still
greater triumph, when genius, born in poverty and nurtured
in seclusion, sees wealth and rank, with all their
gilded trappings, shrink to their own nothingness, and
pay reluctant homage where heaven has set its own
high impress of nobility. That Mr. Otis was too much
gifted by fortune, to enjoy this last species of exultation,
certainly did not soften the asperity of his enemies. It
was doubly provoking, that one whose situation in society
was so commanding, and whose influence was so extensive,
should dare, thus openly, to throw the gauntlet of
defiance; and on their way homeward, not a few talked
of the necessity of ridding England of so formidable
a foe.

Leaving them to “nurse their wrath,” we will follow
his friend, Henry Osborne. After apologizing to Mr.
Otis for his friendly interruption, and giving his most

cordial congratulations, he walked home through Friezel
Court, thinking it possible some valuable papers might
yet be saved.

Many people were still around the doors, intently
examining the various articles that lay crushed and
scattered in every direction.

Henry passed into the ruined library, and as the
gaunt figure of Mr. Townsend met his view, he involuntarily
started back. The old miser thrust something
into his side pocket, with all the trembling eagerness of
dotage; and immediately began to make some inarticulate
apologies about a paper he had lost.

“Distressful times these, sir,” said he, “when a
man's earnings an't safe night nor day. Nothing can be
done with money, but to hide it in the bowels of the
earth.”

“Have you suffered from the recent riot?” inquired
Osborne, with a mingled expression of contempt and
compassion.

“I can't say I have, sir; but I have had great losses
in my day. I am a poor man now; and—”

He was going to add more, but the entrance of
Governor Hutchinson and his sister occasioned a sudden
pause. The miser changed colour, felt in his pocket to
ascertain that the secreted parcel was secure, and said
rapidly, “I hope your honour will excuse my being here.
I just stepped down to see how things looked.”

“My doors always opened upon the inside,” replied
Hutchinson; “and I could not now close them against
any one, if I would.”

There was a slight tremor in his voice, and the tears
actually crowded into his eyes, when he looked on the
wreck of that splendid library, which he had been more
than thirty years collecting with all the devotedness of
antiquarian zeal. Indeed the scene was melancholy
enough. Books were stripped of their covers, manuscripts
torn to pieces, the royal portraits rent from top
to bottom, and the beautiful, swan-like neck of Mary
Stuart was all that remained of the proud line of busts.

“Oh dear,” cried Miss Sandford, “you may say
what you will, the world never was half as wicked as it
is now. Who would think it?” added she, springing
forward, and raising something from a heap of rubbish.
“Here is my blue silk damask, that I wore to a ball as
long ago as the year 25, stuffed into a porridge pot;—the
very gown that Mrs. Winthrop hated so much because
her husband insisted upon it that I never looked so well
in any thing else. What will this world come to?”

The gentlemen gave all the condolence that so important
a subject demanded, and the querulous maiden
began making fresh researches. At every new instance
of wasteful destruction, Mr. Townsend would signify his
horror by a sympathizing groan. At first, Miss Sandford
felt disposed to ask him to leave the room; but when
she looked up and saw his grotesque figure bending over
the ruined furniture with such a look of utter distress,
she felt strongly inclined to be merry at his expense.
Perceiving the gentlemen had passed into the adjoining
rooms, she ventured to compromise with dignity, and
began, “When I wore this gown, Mr. Townsend, you
were young, and used to attend balls, I suppose.”

“Oh dear, yes,” rejoined the miser. “I have spent
a deal of money in them foolish ways; the more is the
pity.”

“But they say you are very rich now.”

“Do they?” said the old man, chuckling. Then
putting on a long face, he added, “'T an't true, though.
I'm a dreadful poor man. Just enough to keep soul
and body together, that 's all.”

“I should not think your soul and body would be
a very weighty concern, whether together or separate.
You are very much out of health?”

“Yes, indeed I am. I have a power of diseases.”

“Perhaps you suffer for want of good nursing. It is
a pity you had not married when you were young, Mr.
Townsend,”

“I don't know, I don't know. Women are dreadful
expensive.”

“But you are rich, and it is not too late now to find
some kind notable woman, for a wife.”

“I hope it is, I hope it is. Women are despit expensive.
Why, I don't keep a horse, because it costs
such a power of money.”

“But, Mr. Townsend, a prudent woman—”

“I tell you they are all dreadful costly,” exclaimed
the persecuted bachelor, pushing his cap hard over his
forehead, and making the best of his way out of the
house.

After examining the chambers, to ascertain whether
any remnant of a wardrobe could be found, Miss
Sandford and her brother returned to Mr. Osborne's,

where they had consented to take up their temporary
abode.

The interview with the miser afforded the girls many
a laugh; but when Doctor Byles heard of it, he shook
his head significantly, and said, “There is many a true
word spoken in jest.”