16. CHAPTER XVI.
THE NEWS FROM BOSTON.
The profuse dinner is nearly over, and nothing remains
upon the wide table but the nuts and wine.
Leaning one arm upon the board, and pushing about the
port and Canary, Colonel Vane, with features which gradually
flush with anger, addresses the two young men:
“Yes, gentlemen, you have a right to be astonished!”
he says, “and I share your astonishment.”
“But't is not in the last `Gazette,' ” says Mr. St. John.
“How could the intelligence have arrived?”
“Well, it arrived through a private channel, but a reliable
one. An emissary, who never deceives, announced it
yesterday at the court house, and there is no longer any
doubt of it. Yes, things at last approach an issue. Government
enacts that, after the first day of June, the harbor
of Boston shall be closed by armed troops, her shipping
shall rot in the bay, her streets be thronged with red coats,
and martial law prevail! What think you, gentlemen of
the colony of Virginia, of this blow at our beloved sister
province of Massachusetts Bay?”
“I think 't is a despotic and base exercise of power” says
St. John, “and I'd resist at all hazards.”
“And I agree with you, Harry,” says Mr. Alston, “to
the letter.”
“You are right, gentlemen,” said the old planter; “and
no North American can see Massachusetts holding out her
hand without aiding her. Whatever touches her, touches
Virginia, nay, touches all the colonies, for this tyrannical
edict is but the entering wedge! If it does not arm the
colonies, then they will lie down in chains for ever! Miserable
and woful times! tyrants and knaves banded against
honest men!” cries the old gentleman, dashing down his
glass, wrathfully. “I'll buckle on my sword and fight for
the cause in the ranks, as a common soldier, before I'll forget
that I'm a Virginia gentleman, and grovel in the dust, and
lick the boots of North and his yelping beagles. And not
even tyrannical edicts will answer! We are to be whipped
into submission by this General Gage, commander of his
Majesty's forces in the provinces! He is to cut and hack
us to pieces if we dare to murmur! By Heaven! we are
slaves indeed! We, the descendants of Englishmen, with
the strong arms of our forefathers, and their liberty as British
subjects! We who fought for the king on a hundred
battle fields, and poured out our best blood like water for
our sovereigns; sovereigns that never gave us any thing to
bind our wounds, although we served them generation after
generation, as kings were never served! We Englishmen
are to be trodden down and trampled on like a pack of curs,
and whipped back to our places by this body of time servers,
who are rolling yonder in their wealth, and making laws to
bind the chains upon our limbs, as though we were their
serfs! Damn my blood!” cries the colonel, striking the
table with his fist, “I'll give half my estate to arm a company,
and I'll march myself at the head of it, if Cato has to
hold me on my crutches.”
During the course of this explosive address, which was
terminated by a sudden attack upon the colonel's foot by
his old enemy, Mr. St. John leaned back in his seat, and,
with folded arms, revolved, in the depth of his mind, the
significance of this new blow at the colonies.
Was it not foreseen or even reported by its movers, by
secret dispatches to Lord Dunmore, and had not this fact
something to do with the existence of his Excellency's
“guards” at the palace gate—soldiers who recognized no
other allegiance than that due to their master, and who, if
need be, would be employed to awe the inhabitants of Williamsburg
and the House of Burgesses?
And he was the commander of this body! He who
swore by the code which the old gentleman had just proclaimed,
who rated his dignity of honest gentleman as
high as that of a peer of the realm, who was ready to
pour out his blood for the preservation of his most trivial
right—he, Henry St. John, was in the pay of his Excellency!
The young man's brow clouded and his eyes flashed.
“You are right, uncle,” he said, “'t is a bitter draught
they hold to our lips and expect us to drink. I predict that
this act will open the eyes of the inhabitants of this colony,
and that there will soon be a struggle for supremacy with
Lord Dunmore. In that cause, I, for one, know which side
I'll be ranged on. I've long felt that my position yonder
was slavery, and nothing but disinclination to retreat from
my post in the service of the government, threatened with
Indian troubles, has kept me from resigning what has come
to be a menial's miserable routine! Lord Dunmore has deceived
me, sir, in a manner wholly unworthy of a gentleman,
and I'll tell him so, if need be. Yes, sir! if the struggle's
here in Virginia, I'll myself cheerfully brace on my sword,
and strike as hard blows as I'm able in the contest against
this detestable tyranny! I am more than of your way of
thinking, sir. For this body of men across the water to be
forcing down our throats every nauseous dose they choose!
binding us hand and foot with chains, no doubt to lash us
the better, and so force us along the king's highway, dragging
at our heels the lumbering parliament coach, with my
Lord North and his family inside! I'll no more wear their
harness than I'll longer don the livery of his Excellency,
which I'm fixed to discard and throw from me, as a plague
garment! I'll be no nobleman's dog, to hunt his prey and
do his dirty work; I'll not be this man's lackey—a vulgar
fellow, in my humble opinion, neither more nor less, and I'll
say it to his face, if I'm provoked to it!”
St. John stopped, red, angry and disdainful, thinking of
the scene at the palace.
“Well, well,” said the colonel, relieved by his explosion,
“let us not speak evil of dignitaries, Harry. I confess I do
not like Lord Dunmore, but he is Governor.”
St. John made a motion of his head, indicating his willingness
to dismiss so distasteful a subject.
“All I have to say, sir,” he added, “is that things in Virginia
seem to be progressing, and we'll probably have an
act of Parliament for our own special behoof ere long.”
“Well, well,” said the old gentleman, who seemed to regret
his momentary outburst, “we shall see.”
“If I am not much mistaken, sir, his Excellency will endeavor
to make us shut our eyes as long as possible, and use
his skill to make us believe black's white. Yes, sir, we shall
see, and perhaps we shall do more—we shall fight!”
There was silence after these words, and the colonel filled
his glass and pushed the wine.
“Perhaps we will not find in his lordship a tool of the
ministry, Harry,” he said, “and my old blood flushes up
too hotly. I should set you youngsters a better example
than rashness. You are already too full of fight. I remember
Lord Botetourt said to me one day that he'd throw
his appointment into the Atlantic rather than aid in enforcing
upon Virginia a tyrannical regulation of Parliament;
and who knows but the like public spirit may exist in the
bosom of Lord Dunmore; at least 't is time lost to speculate
at present. Let us hold in, and watch the action of the
House of Burgesses. If they proceed to the resolves which
become them, they will come to a point, and his Excellency
will have to show his hand.”
“Yes, sir,” said St. John, “and I predict that you'll see
a card up his sleeve.”
The old gentleman smiled.
“Well, well, Harry,” he said, “we won't charge him
with cheating till we see it; and then it will be time enough
to outlaw him. Thank Heaven, we have noble players in the
game! There's Bland, and Pendleton, and Harrison, and
Henry, a host in themselves, especially this last, who's an
absolute thunderbolt. There's Lee, and Randolph, and
Nicholas, and Cary, all gentlemen of conspicuous talents.
Mr. Jefferson from the mountains, too, goes, I'm told, all
lengths, and is of extraordinary political genius. We must
not forget Colonel Washington, whose fine house at Mount
Vernon is so delightfully situated on the Potomae. You
know how heroically he fought in the expedition against
Fort Duquesne, in which I am told he gave General Braddock
advice which it had been well for that ill-fated gentleman
to've taken. Certainly Colonel Washington is of
admirable presence, and there is I know not what of majesty
in his deportment, and grandeur in the carriage of his
head. I think we have a worthy body of gentlemen engaged
at present in our public affairs, and history may yet
dwell on our period and its characters, and future generations
may erect statues to these patriotic leaders of opinion.
Certainly they do seem to possess remarkable unanimity in
distrusting his lordship. But let us wait, Harry, and not
try his Excellency before he is caught with the bloody hand
—an unfortunate illustration I have fallen on, but—”
“It's apt, sir.”
The colonel shook his head in a good-humored way and
smiled.
“No, no, Harry,” he said, “let us be just to all men; let
us not forget that moderation is the most fatal enemy of
despotism, until it throws off its disguise. Then there's
time enough to gird on the sword. My preaching and
practicing are, I confess, somewhat different on the present
occasion, and I've set you a bad example. But the old
hound growls the loudest, you know, because he's got no
teeth, and thinks every shadow reason for alarm. There,
there, Harry, let us leave all this to the future, and to that
Almighty Power in whose hand are the balances of fate—
the issue of peace and war!”
St. John bowed his head, and was silent.
“I'll go take my nap now, boys,” added the old gentleman,
smiling pleasantly; “that road to the river's all fixed,
and I shall sleep with a good conscience, and have pleasant
dreams, I trust.”
Having delivered himself of this good-humored speech,
the old gentleman emptied the remainder of his glass of
Canary, and, assisted by Bonnybel, who ran to give him her
shoulder, limped from the room into the library upon the
opposite side of the hall.
Here, composing himself comfortably in his customary
arm-chair, with the gouty foot across another, the worthy
colonel covered his face with a copy of the “Virginia Gazette,”
and very soon was slumbering like an infant.
