University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

Sefton.

It was a beautiful evening about the middle
of July, 1776—Shall I describe it? Nothing
would be easier—nothing more agreeable. All
its features are, at this moment, glowing
as vividly in my mind's vision, as ever the
charms of the fairest landscape shone in the
corporeal eye of a poetical admirer of the glories
of nature. But summer evenings, under
every variety of appearance, have been described
so often and so well, that there is nothing
left for me to say; and to repeat epithets which,
however appropriate and just, have, at this age
of literature, become trite and familiar, would
be worse than supererogation—it would be a
useless expenditure of my own time, as well as
that of my readers.

On the evening to which I refer, Henry
Austin and Dr. Watson were enjoying the
cooling breeze in a favourite retreat among linden
trees, on the bank of the stream of Sharon.
The great drama of the times—in which all

the daring spirits of the land were engaged, was
the subject of their conversation.

“I cannot understand,” said Henry, “how
any American, who has the feelings of a man,
can take part with a government that would
bind his country in the fetters of arbitrary
power; for to lay on imposts at will, is to exercise
such power. Slaves alone can be made
the objects of unlimited exaction—the bearers
of involuntary burthens. The conduct of our
tories is, to me, quite inexplicable.”

“The opinions of men,” observed his companion,
“even on subjects apparently the least
liable to controversy, are so various, that mere
difference of sentiment on this great question,
does not surprise me. I can imagine and believe
that even good and intelligent men may
feel a conviction that the mother country
has just claims to the prerogative she has attempted
to exercise. But that any number of
men should be so zealous for such sentiments,
as to enforce them by the destruction of their
nearest friends, affords, indeed, a theme for
astonishment, and implies motives of action
which I cannot comprehend. The destructive
hostility of men towards each other, for mere
difference of opinion, which our country at
present too fatally experiences, appears to me
the height of criminal infatuation, inexplicable

on any principle of rational sense or natural
feeling.”

“If those who have resisted the encroachments
of British authority,” said Henry, “had,
in the first instance, denounced all who would
not join in that resistance, self-defence would
have justified the tories in acting as they have
done. But no such denouncement took place.
All men were invited to repel the unjust aggression
of Britain, but none were forced to do
so—and I am aware of no instance of violence
exerted by the patriots against any whose dissentient
opinions did not carry them into overt
acts of devastation or bloodshed.”

“The moderation and forbearance of the
friends of liberty, amidst the most galling provocations,”
answered the Doctor, “are, in truth,
worthy of admiration, and augur favourably of
their final success. Contrasted with the ferocity
of the opposite faction, what praise does it
not deserve? But, oh, my friend, if there had
been any means of avoiding the unhappy struggle,
without sacrificing the most invaluable
rights, how much suffering and sorrow would
have been avoided; and what cause would humanity
have had to rejoice! The details you
have given me of scenes you have yourself
witnessed, and the accounts which we almost
daily receive of the events passing in our cities

and populous districts, are truly heart-rending.
Would to Heaven that rulers could appreciate
the evil effects of, at any time, driving a gallant
people into the resistance of wrongs?”

“The calamities that overspread the country,
and will continue to do so while the contest
lasts,” said Henry, “are indeed to be deplored.
But if they are the price at which the
liberty of the country is to be purchased, surely
no patriotic heart will grudge the payment.
The object for which we have chosen to encounter
the evils of war is glorious. If we
attain it, generations yet unborn will enjoy its
benefits, and honour our names, and bless our
memories, for the sacrifices we shall make.
This is the consummation to which our patriots
look forward, as the glorious recompense of
their toils, their dangers, and their sufferings.”

“If,” said the Doctor, “the great measure
of proclaiming our country independent, now
in agitation by Congress, were once adopted, I
should then less grudge the sacrifices and the
miseries that the generous and the brave of the
land are destined to undergo. The contest
would then have a definite aim to which every
eye would be directed. There would be a fixed
point, an established and ascertained object,
round which every noble heart would rally,
and to defend which every valiant arm would

be raised. But, at present, the unsettled and
undetermined, nay often discordant views of
our best patriots, distract their councils, disconcert
their measures, and expose their cause
and their country to many misfortunes and
much distress, from which they might otherwise
be exempted.”

“There is reason to hope,” replied Henry,
“that affairs will not remain long in this unsettled
condition. Our congress consists of a body
of men of as firm, fearless, and patriotic minds,
as ever were assembled; and it is confidently
believed, that the members are well aware that
the salvation of the country depends on the
adoption of this great measure. For myself, I
have full reliance on their wisdom and integrity,
and have not the slightest apprehension
that they will shrink from their duty.”

At that moment the Hermit of the Woods—
the old man who had conducted Henry and
Butler to the rescue of Miss Norwood and her
friend—stood before them.

“Rejoice Americans!” said he—“You are
now a nation. The yoke of the foreigner
is broken. The mighty voice has gone forth
which every land shall hear with delight, and
every tyrant with dismay, that you are FREE
AND INDEPENDENT. Arouse all your energies
to maintain the glorious privilege, ye men of

the new-born nation, for to do so your lives,
your fortunes, and your sacred honour, are
pledged in the sight of Heaven and of the
world!”

“Whence is thy intelligence, Rodolph?”
asked Dr. Watson.

“Thou dost not doubt its accuracy? my
son,” inquired the Hermit.

“No, I have never heard aught but truth
from thy lips,” replied the Doctor. “But, to
us, thy news is so important and interesting,
that to know all its particulars will be grateful
to our hearts.”

“Yesterday,” said Rodolph—“by express
from Philadelphia, the tidings reached Allentown.
The blessed Declaration was read in
an assembly of the people. I heard the banks
of the Lehigh resound with the acclamations of
the multitude; and I hastened hither with the
joyful intelligence. Here is, in print, a copy
of the sacred instrument of your freedom.
Make it known to your people. Let them
raise the voice of thanksgiving to Heaven; and
dedicate, for ever, to jubilee and joy, the birthday
of their nation!”

So saying, he handed to Dr. Watson a printed
copy of the Declaration of Independence,
and hastily disappeared.

The delight with which the patriotic people

of Wyoming received this important intelligence,
was expressed by long and fervent acclamations,
the discharge of fire arms, the parading
of their little military band, the blazing
of bonfires, and other demonstrations of public
rejoicing usual in remote villages. The day
following the arrival of the news, Mr. Norwood
invited the people to assemble in his
church, where, after reading to them the great
charter of their freedom, he addressed them as
follows:

“My fellow citizens: You have just heard the
most important public manifesto that ever was
issued. It is the mighty instrument of franchisement,
which delivers one half the world
from the thraldom in which it was held by the
other—for not the present generation alone,
but the innumerable unborn millions who will
yet fill this immense hemisphere, are destined
to enjoy its incalculable benefits. From the
date of this glorious charter, has commenced a
change not for us only, but for the human race,
which will elevate the humble and the lowly of
every clime from the contempt and degradation
in which they have been held by the powerful
and the proud. The sentiments of liberality
promulgated in this document, will go forth
like axioms, and form the political faith that
shall regulate the movements of the mightiest

nations. “All men are born equal,” is a truth
before the prevalence of which the pretensions
of kings and nobles to exclusive privileges and
immunities in the social system, will disperse
as the shadow flies before the beams of the
sun. The right of the people to self-government,
and their capacity to exercise it properly
and to their own advantage, will become
recognised as an article of belief which it will
be thought absurdity to controvert. In short, mankind
shall so deeply venerate this declaration,
that it will become the text-book of freedom,
the manual of patriotism to all generations.

“What are its effects on yourselves, since ye
have heard the elevating spirit of its sentiments,
its bold announcement of your emancipation?
Are you not exalted in your own estimation?
Do you not feel as if chains had
fallen from your limbs? Do you not, inspired
with the dignity of freemen, almost imagine
that you breathe the air more freely, and
move with greater elasticity? The humility
and timidity of serfs have departed from your
spirits. But yesterday you felt as if your patriotism
were treason—to-day you feel that it
is allegiance—allegiance to the country of your
birth, to the government of your choice, and
not to an oppressor in a distant quarter of the

globe, with whom you can have no common
interest, and who, for you, can have no fellow
feeling.

“Of the soil on which ye tread, ye are now
the paramount lords. Before the date of this
instrument you held it but in subjection to a
stranger whose counsellors have latterly assumed
the right to exact from you the fruits
of your industry without your consent. Your
resistance to this injustice was called treason.
But traitors you cannot now be, for, thanks to
this document, you are no longer subjects to the
foe. You are citizens, free and independent lords
of a soil that owns no foreign master.—You are,
it is true, weak in comparison to your foe. So is
the eagle in comparison to the lion, yet it has a
spirit equally daring, and in the independence
of its nature, acknowledges subjection to no
earthly lord. O! my countrymen, may the King
of kings, who is now your only sovereign,
render you worthy of your new-born rights,
and enable you to struggle successfully with
the terrible storms you shall have to encounter,
in defending them. Shrink not in the
hour of peril, ye who are now the fathers of a
nation! The morning of your existence is tempestuous
and dark; but it will usher in a day
of glorious tranquillity, when the fruits of
your labours shall diffuse joy over a grateful

land, and the blessings of millions shall crown
your memories with immortality.”

This address made a deep impression on its
auditors—the true patriots became more zealous,
the wavering became firm, and many who had
hitherto been opposed to the cause of liberty
from the dread of committing treason, now
conceiving themselves freed from their allegiance
to royalty, unhesitatingly declared their
adhesion to the patriotic side. Still, however,
there were numbers whose attachment to
the ancient order of things, rendered them
hostile to the great measure now adopted.
Many of these had favoured the resistance to
British usurpation, but had never desired a separation
from British connexion or release
from British authority. The hardened and resolved
tories were strengthened by the accession
of such; and the bold and irretraceable
step which the whigs had now taken, aroused
their animosity to an implacable degree, and
they became more zealous and active than ever
in the warfare which they waged against the
friends of liberty. The whole heart and soul
of John Butler were secretly with these. Their
leaders knew it, and placed entire confidence
in him. With all their machinations and designs
he was made acquainted; and frequently,
by his advice and management, he contributed to

the success of their enterprises. He, however,
in public preserved an appearance of attachment
to the popular cause. This he did with the
double view of serving his own party the more
effectually by treachery to the other, and of
availing himself of any favourable occurrence
that might take place to aggrandize himself by
means of the whigs, in which, had he succeeded,
it is doubtful whether his principles might
not have accommodated themselves to his interest.
Be this as it may, he, for some months,
conducted himself so much to the satisfaction
of the people of Wyoming, that their most vigilant
patriots found no cause to make him an
object of either disapprobation or suspicion.