University of Virginia Library

75. CHAPTER LXXV.
WILLIAMSBURG IN ARMS, AND CAPTAIN RALPH WATERS IN
ECSTACIES.

At sunrise the stranger and St. John met in front of the
Raleigh, and in fifteen minutes the intelligence of the removal
of the powder had run like wildfire through the
town.

All Williamsburg flew to arms.

Every moment the crowds at the corners increased, and
these crowds were harangued by orators of the common
people, who sprung up thus in an instant, and rode for the
moment upon the popular current.

Execrations directed at Lord Dunmore resounded upon
every side, and a hoarse murmur, rising at times into a roar,
indicated the depth of the feeling which this last outrage
had aroused and pushed into action.

As the morning drew on, the crowd ever grew more
dense and more furious; for it was found, that in addition,
the muskets in the magazine had been deprived of their locks.
The gentlemen of the town, and some members of the Governor's
council, in vain attempted to calm the tumult.

The people of Williamsburg were completely aroused,
and like most popular bodies, only waited for a leader to
proceed to acts of violence.

This leader presented himself in the person of a country
lawyer, who sprang upon a barrel-head at the door of a
shop and announced that the palace floor was covered with
muskets, and that Lord Dunmore had hastened to Montebello
to arm his negroes, and the Shawnee hostages brought
back from the frontier.

The intelligenee fell like fire upon gunpowder. A hoarse
roar issued from the crowd, and like an immense wave of
the ocean, it surged toward the palace, which was surrounded
in an instant by the shouting and furious inhabitants.

At the front gate stood his Excellency's chariot, which
had just returned from Montebello, and as the multitude
rushed toward the spot, Lady Dunmore and her daughters
were just stepping into the vehicle.

Before they could do so, they were jostled aside by some
of the crowd, and violent hands were laid upon the bridles
of the rearing horses. The driver sat pale and trembling,
scarcely able to hold the reins; and Lady Dunmore and
her daughters trembled too.

It was but an instant that they were thus subjected to
insult.

A sword flashed in the air—a vigorous arm hurled back
the assailants, who were the mere scum of the multitude,
that vulgar froth, so to speak, which floats on the purest
waters—and looking up, Lady Dunmore and her daughters
encountered the pale face of St. John, which was cold, but
fiery with indignation.

“Your ladyship need fear no violence,” said the young
man; “myself, and Captain Waters here, will see that you
are treated with respect. Before your ladyship is insulted
by any one, I'll sheathe my sword in his heart.”

And confronting the assailants, Mr. St. John met their
furious glances with a look which indicated that he was
both ready and willing to carry out his threat.

“That's the word, Harry my boy!” said Captain Waters,
pushing through to his side. “Morbleu! I'll stand
by you there—and her ladyship can proceed.”

Lady Dunmore, still trembling, got into the carriage,
followed by her daughters, and assisted by Mr. St. John:
and then the crowd opening, the chariot was permitted to
proceed.

St. John exchanged a glance with young Lady Augusta,
who thanked him with that grateful look for his devotion.
But he had only repaid her kindness to Blossom, when the
child nearly fainted, and was cheered by the girl.

The crowd thus permitted the Governor's family to
depart, disowning the vulgar assault of the understrappers;
but the palace of the hateful Governor remained.

They seized all the arms, which were ranged in long rows
upon the floor; and took prisoner the private secretary of
his Excellency.

Captain Foy looked around him for a moment like an
infuriated tiger—cold, but burning with rage. Then he
calmly went on with his writing.

“My dear Foy,” said Captain Waters, as the tide of invaders
flowed away, leaving them nearly alone, “do you
know that you really fill me with admiration? Parbleu!
we seem vulgar urchins beside you. I recognize my superior;
and rather than see you assailed by the good people
of the town, I will die on the threshold of your apartment.”

“Thanks, captain,” said Foy coolly, “that sounds like a
comrade.”

“It sounds true, my dear Foy. I have no idea of letting
some vulgar fellow run you through. I reserve that pleasure
for myself.”

Foy smiled sardonically.

“I think, from present appearances, you'll soon have an
occasion, captain,” he said; “events are thickening, and
the pen yields to the sword.”

“Certainly it does, and that's right.”

“I agree with you.”

“The sword will serve his Excellency better than the
pen, eh?”

“Such is my opinion, captain,” said Foy, coolly.

“You confess, then, that the goose quill's but a sorry
tool—that it has not succeeded?”

“Succeeded, captain?”

“Yes, my dear Foy. It is obvious to all now that his
Excellency's chief rascal, Conolly, took advantage of the
confiding disposition of his lordship, and deceived him;
that his Excellency's treachery quite failed.”

“Captain Waters—!”

“My dear Foy!” said the captain with a polite air.

“It is perilous to speak thus of his Majesty's representative!”

“Representative!—where?”

“In Williamsburg.”

“If you refer to Dunmore, my dear friend, I reply
simply that he's not here. Having abstracted—I believe
that's the polite word—our powder, his lordship is amusing
himself making fireworks at Montebello, having doubtless
forgotten his wife and daughters.”

“He is still the Governor, sir.”

“Then we are unfortunate, for we've a coward for a
ruler. Come, don't think me rude, my dear Foy. I declare
it to be my opinion that the man who runs away to
escape popular wrath, and leaves his family behind to meet
the shock which he knows will come—this personage, I am
constrained to declare, in all simplicity, a coward; and that
is worse than a traitor. His Excellency, I regret to say, is
both.”

“Captain Waters, do you consider it grateful to insult a
prisoner?”

“Insult!”

“Yes, me sir!”

“Insult you, my dear Foy, and at present? I would
sooner cut off my right hand, and have my ears nailed to a
pillory.”

“Well, sir, this insult to his Excellency is an insult to
me.”

The captain stood dumbfoundered at this new view, and
the longer he reflected, the more just did it seem.

He drew back and sighed.

“My dear Foy,” he said, “I am absent this morning, and
that never occurred to me. You see I was only jesting, and
I wouldn't hurt your feelings for the world. My real opinion
of his lordship is quite different. I regard him as the model
of a gentleman and a cavalier. In all the relations of life
he shines preëminent; he touches nothing which he don't
adorn; the Latin's escaped me, if I ever knew it.”

The same sardonic smile wreathed the corners of Foy's
mouth.

“I'm glad your real opinion of his Excellency is different,
captain,” he said.

“Different! I should say it was. Could you think for a
moment, my dear comrade, that I attached any credit to the
vulgar rumors of the day? The idea of a nobleman being
guilty of treachery and cowardice! My amazement at this
charge is so great that I feel as if some one had cuffed me
on my head! I'll uphold his lordship as the grandest of his
order, and I'll cram down the throats of his enemies their
accusations!”

A rather poor commentary upon the captain's sincerity
was instantly afforded.

The crowd had taken all the muskets, disarmed the servants,
and now they came to the apartment in which Foy
was under guard, muttering “traitor!” and a variety of
other criticisms of his Excellency.

No insult or violence was offered to Captain Foy, however,
and they even permitted him to retain his papers.

In the afternoon, the guard was withdrawn, and he was
at liberty. The secretary received the intimation as coolly
as before, and continued his writing.

The palace and the grounds were by this time vacated,
and another portion of the inhabitants, who had armed themselves
to march and attack the Magdalen, and recover the
powder, returned to their homes.

This moderation of the popular excitement was due to the
exertions of the members of the Governor's council, who
earnestly dissuaded the people from violence. They recommended
a meeting of the town in its corporate capacity, and
the meeting was held at once.

The result was an address to his Excellency, in which the
Common Council represented that the “inhabitants of the
city had been that morning exceedingly alarmed by a report
that a large quantity of gunpowder was, in the preceding
night, while they were sleeping in their beds, removed
from the public magazine in the city, and conveyed, under
an escort of marines, on board one of his Majesty's armed
vessels lying at a ferry on James river;” that “the magazine
was erected at the public expense of the colony,” for
arming the militia, “in cases of invasion and insurrection,”
and they desired “to be informed by his Excellency, upon
what motives and for what particular purpose the powder
had been carried off in such a manner,” and ended by requesting
that it might be “immediately returned to the
magazine.”

His Excellency returned, verbally, the reply, that he had
heard of “an insurrection in a neighboring county,” and
had removed the powder to a place of safety. Whenever
it was wanted, upon his word of honor, it should be delivered
in half an hour. He had removed it in the night
time to prevent any alarm, and was surprised to hear the
people were under arms; he could not trust them with powder.
That was all the reply.

On the next day, Captain Collins and some of his men entered
Williamsburg, and swaggered about the streets, and
in the evening the captain and Foy rode to Montebello, returning
at twilight.

On the next morning, his Excellency sent word by one
of the magistrates that “if any insult were offered to Captain
Foy, or Captain Collins, he would declare freedom to
the slaves and lay the town in ashes,” adding that he could
easily depopulate the county.

His lordship finding this threat received without open exhibitions
of resistance, then returned with his guards to Williamsburg.

On the next evening, Captain Foy was proceeding toward
the palace when he met Captain Waters.

“Have you heard the news, my dear friend?” said Waters.

“No, captain,” returned Foy.

“Well, I'll tell you. That scoundrel, General Gage, who
represents his most Christian Majesty in Boston, has removed
their powder, as his Excellency kindly did ours. The result
has been a battle at Lexington and Concord, on the very
day that Captain Collins marched to Williamsburg and robbed
the magazine. Can you conceive of such a rascally coincidence,
my dear Foy?”

“Captain Waters!” said Foy, coloring, “are you aware,
sir, that you utter sedition?”

“Sedition, my dear Foy?” returned Waters; “well, I
believe all Williamsburg is assisting me.”

“All Williamsburg, sir?”

“Yes, my dear friend. The Raleigh's in a flame from
the news, and it's rapidly spreading. As I observed, the
general opinion is, that the removal of the powder throughout
America was concerted—done in obedience to orders
from home. Eh? Wasn't it, my dear Foy?”

“Seek intelligence elsewhere, Captain Waters,” said Foy,
passing on.

“Well, I will,” said Captain Ralph, smiling; “but let me
finish, my dear Foy.”

“Proceed, sir.”

“If the removal of the powder here, and in Massachusetts,
was concerted, you see—”

“Well, sir!”

“In obedience to orders from London—”

“Suppose it was, sir!”

“Why, then, you see, I am cleared from any accusation
of sedition, which is libel,” said the captain. “His Excellency

said he removed it because there was an insurrection
in James City county; now, if he really did so, in obedience
to general orders, without reference to the insurrection, why
it is obvious that his Excellency has willfully lied, and the
coincidence, as I said, is in every sense rascally. It's no
libel, it's the simple and plain truth, my dear Foy!”

Met thus by a direct and unmistakable insult, as gross as
it was pointed, Foy advanced a step and said, with a slight
flush in his pale face,

“Captain Waters, do you wish to visit the Fowey man-of-war
in irons?”

“Not at present, my dear Foy,” said the captain.

“Well, sir, if you wish to avoid it, I advise you to control
your remarks.”

“What remarks?”

“About his Excellency.”

“I have said nothing wrong.”

“You have charged him with falsehood, sir—plainly!”

“Well, my dear Captain Foy, I think he has been guilty
of that.”

“Captain Waters!”

“And of cowardice.”

“Sir—!”

“Treachery too, Foy,” said Captain Waters, coolly, “and
my own opinion is, that you yourself have more or less
to do with both the falsehood and the treachery. You
see, I acquit you of the cowardice for old acquaintance
sake.”

Foy's hand darted to the hilt of his sword, and thus driven
like a wild cat to the wall, by these repeated insults, he
would in an instant have rushed upon his adversary.

Before his sword, however, leaped from its scabbard, he
heard a voice say, “His lordship sends for you, sir,” and
turning round he found himself face to face with the old
usher in black velvet.

A flush of rage and disappointment threw a lurid light
upon the secretary's face, and, advancing within two steps

of Waters, he said, between his clenched teeth, and in a low,
hissing voice,

“We shall meet again, sir, and I'll wipe out the insults
you have heaped upon me with your heart's blood. I promise
you that, sir!”

“Good, good, my dear Foy!” said the captain, cheerfully;
“that sort of talk really delights me!”

“I'm glad you like it, sir,” said Foy, pale with rage.

“Like it? I believe you. It sounds like the sweetest
winds of summer to my ears. At last I shall learn the coup
de Reinfels, and perhaps in return teach you the coup de
Waters, you see!”

“Well, sir, I'll try and end your affectation and your
boasting!”

“My affectation! my boasting!” cried the captain; “see
how an old comrade does injustice to a friend! You think
I boast, you think I affect! when all the time I'm moved
by a pure love of art.”

“Well, sir, I hope to show you the art of splitting tongues,
and if I live I'll perform that service for you.”

“Split my tongue!” said the captain, cheerfully; “see
here the coincidence of genius. That is just what I've long
been wishing to do for you! Your tongue is already forked
like a snake's, my dear Foy, but I wish to improve it still
further!”

It seemed that Captain Foy meditated again an instant
rush upon his enemy, but this idea was at once abandoned.
With a hoarse growl he turned away.

“A last word, my dear Foy,” said the captain; “let us
exchange a parting assurance of regard. I have a real affection
for yourself and his Excellency, and you may inform
him that in forty-eight hours we intend to knock his house
about his ears. We are no longer restrained by a sentiment
of politeness—the family of his Excellency being absent.
Perhaps their presence made him a coward, and, now they
are gone, he may fight. He has an elegant-looking guard,
and a tall, ugly captain thereof, named Lindon, which I regret,

as I'd like to spoil his beauty. I say, you can inform
his Excellency that we're coming to pay him our respects,
our compliments, on the issue of the Indian affair, and to
return him our thanks for removing the powder out of reach
of our slaves. He says we are traitors, and may be cowards
—well, `birds of a feather,' you know. We think his Excellency's
admirable company for such folk! Go, my dear
Foy! do n't keep his Excellency waiting! He is doubtless
devising new benefits for the colony, and needs your valuable
assistance.”

Foy walked away, shuddering with rage, but saying nothing;
and Waters added, with a laugh, as he disappeared
around the corner,

“Go on, my dear scorpion; I'll soon draw your sting!
the hours are ripening!”

With these words, the captain twirled his huge mustache,
and, with an expression of radiant pleasure, sought
the Raleigh, which, truly, was in a flame with the news of
Lexington and Concord.