39. CHAPTER XXXIX.
HOW THE STRANGER'S FIRST PROPHECY WAS FULFILLED.
The movement and murmur in the crowd had been caused
by the approach of Lord Dunmore.
The two men had arrived just in time.
From the portico upon which they were stationed, above
the statue of Botetourt, and the undulating masses, their
glances embraced the whole spectacle.
The approach of his Excellency was announced by a handfull
of his guards who rode before, royally, to clear the way.
Then a larger detachment appeared riding abreast in front
of the chariot, the plumes of a troop of like number reveal
ing themselves plainly in the rear.
At the head of the troop in front rode a tall and magnificently
accoutred gentleman, and as the cavalcade drew on,
St. John started slightly.
The new commander of his Excellency's guards was Mr.
Lindon.
The young man's lip curled.
“Ah well!” he said, carelessly, “I congratulate his Excellency
on securing such a fine captain, and Mr. Lindon on
entering the service of such a master. They'll suit each
other to a marvel.”
Having thus expressed his view of the matter, St. John
continued to gaze at the procession with a curling lip and a
sort of wonder, as he thought that, but a short time before,
Lindon's position was his own.
His Excellency drew on.
Having a profound conviction that the easiest mode of
ruling the human species, was to awe and dazzle them in
advance, his lordship had made great preparations for the
present ceremony, and in the programme, so to speak, had
studied to imitate the royal model.
As the guards sent before were to represent those troops
sent in advance of royalty to cry, “make way! make way
for his majesty!” and as the larger detachments were to
still further carry out the idea and the resemblance, and
awe the masses into terror and submission, so, in the selection
of his equipage itself, the Governor had endeavored to
dazzle the eyes, as with the splendor and state of a king.
The chariot was a huge affair, covered with gilding, and
velvet, and damask; a dozen footmen in liveries seemed to
hang behind and at the sides, and a driver with a hat bound
with gold lace, looked grandly downward on the heads of
the common people, through whom he urged onward his
six glossy horses, when the guards allowed the mass to
close in.
His Excellency was accompanied only by Captain Foy
and Lord Fincastle, the secretary or captain, as the reader
pleases, preserving his habitual expression of serenity. His
dark eyes shining from his pale face, quietly surveyed the
crowd with a species of philosophical composure, and then
were again lowered thoughtfully.
The chariot paused before the front of the capitol, and
the Governor issued forth, in the midst of a profound
silence.
He raised his head haughtily, as a king, who is not met
with the shouts and acclamations he expects, might do, and
then, taking a comprehensive view of the crowd, ascended
to the council chamber, followed by the secretary and Lord
Fincastle.
“Come,” said the stranger to St. John, “let us see the
rest; there is a gallery I know of from which we may see
all.”
And with a rapid step he led the way up a narrow and
winding stair, and with a key which he took from his pocket,
opened a low door beneath the ceiling.
From behind the high railing of the small, circular gallery,
the eyes of the two men looked into the council
chamber.
The members of the council, who had already assembled,
rose upon the Governor's entrance, and saluted him—also,
his companions.
Lord Dunmore then took his seat in the large carved chair
of red damask, at the end of the council table, with Lord
Fincastle and Captain Foy at his side, the members remaining
in their former seats.
A pause of some moments followed the arrangement of
every one in his place, and during this time his lordship's
countenance wore an expression at once haughty and nervous,
disdainful and anxious.
He cleared his throat, arranged with nervous hands some
papers before him, and then, leaning back in his chair,
said,
“Gentlemen of the council, I have summoned you to meet
me here to-day in order that I may express to you, briefly,
the reasons for the course I am about to adopt. I shall be
extremely brief, for my resolution is taken, and I shall not
be swerved from my purpose.
“It is scarcely necessary for me to inform you, gentlemen,”
continued the Governor, haughtily, but, as he thought, with
dignity, “that seditious persons and enemies to the government
in this colony have for a series of years been disturbing
the public tranquillity, and even proceeding to what is
constructive treason, and would be held such under the 25th
Edward III.”
St. John exchanged a glance with the stranger, who moved
his head slightly, but again riveted his cold look on the
Governor.
“The men that I speak of, gentlemen, are not, I believe,
members of the Burgesses, who heretofore, except upon cer
tain occasions, have conducted themselves respectfully toward
the government and its representatives in the colonies.
The persons I refer to are those who have printed and circulated
seditious pamphlets, some of which I have seen purporting
even to be issued in this capital. I have information
that a man named Waters is the most active agent and desseminator
of these papers, and I shall, at an early day, take
steps to arrest and send him for trial to England, with the
proofs of his guilt, which are ample. If these proofs do not
rid the government of one who is eternally holding sedition,
then, gentlemen, I shall lose all confidence in the laws of
England, and that gallows which punishes treason!”
A grim and disdainful smile seemed to flit across the
countenance of the stranger as he and St. John exchanged
glances. Then his fiery glance vailed itself, his face grew
cold again, and he fixed his eyes on the Governor.
“But it was not my purpose, gentlemen,” continued Lord
Dunmore, with a severe air, “to refer to these obscure and
contemptible agents of treason. I designed calling your attention
to the fact that these seditious views are being so
widely disseminated that all classes of persons are becoming
aroused by them. All proper subservience to the government
and myself; the very respect that is due to my person,
is refused in a manner most insulting and outrageous!”
The stranger laid his hand on St. John's arm and said, in
a low voice, “Now it's your turn, friend, but do n't move
or speak—let us listen.”
The Governor, whose countenance slowly colored with
anger as he spoke, continued.
“You know, gentlemen,” he said, “to what I have reference—the
scene that took place at my palace some days
since. You were, some of you, present, and you witnessed
the spectacle of a peer of the realm, and the representative
of his Majesty, insulted, outraged, and even menaced by a
young man whose reply to my just complaints of his remissness
was a threat to plunge his sword into my breast.
If I have not brought this impudent person to justice, it is
only because I have been absorbed by affairs more important,
but he is marked in my black book, and in good time
his sedition will be punished.”
“Listen,” said the stranger, in his low, deep voice, and
crouching with fiery eyes, near the face of the young man,
“listen—`affairs more important!'—do you understand?
Conolly!”
And the stranger's eyes seemed to blaze as he leaned forward,
pointing to Dunmore.
“Yes,” said St. John, coldly, “I understand!”
The Governor paused a moment, then went on, loftily.
“All these outrages and commotions,” he said, “indicate,
on the part of the people of this colony, a tendency to tumult
and rebellion. This tendency has entered the House
of Burgesses, and even appeared in that body some years
ago. On that occasion, their action compelled Lord Botetourt
to dissolve them, an act which he, however, performed
in a manner extremely reprehensible. I say reprehensible,
sirs, and I know what I say! His lordship committed a
great fault, and I shall take warning from the result of his
ill-advised proceeding.”
The Governor frowned as he spoke, and looked round
the council haughtily.
“In myself, gentlemen,” he said, “his Majesty has a representative
of another description. I keep no terms with
rebels, I utter no honeyed words; I suppress their rebellious
career, that is all. And this brings me, gentlemen, to the
point I would reach. The House of Burgesses, yesterday,
proceeded to resolves upon the late bill for the closing of
Boston harbor—to resolves, in their spirit, if not in letter,
treasonable! Yes, treasonable!” said the Governor, scowling
at the council; “they have presumed to declare that
this bill is a blow at the liberties of America! The liberties!
the very word is nonsense! I know what the tools
of sedition say about these `liberties,' but I say that the
best writers upon constitutional law lay down the fixed
principle that dependent colonies can have no liberties.
They are subject to Parliament and the King; it is their
place to submit, and I for one, gentlemen, will see that the
government does not yield to these impudent claims! Yes,
impudent! You think the word too strong, I do not! It
is impudence, and nothing less, to declare that the government
has no right to close the port of Boston, for their overt
act of sedition in destroying the tea in December last! And
the House of Burgesses is not content with declaring this
an attack on the liberties of America, forsooth! It must
proceed further, and appoint the first day of June a day of
fasting, and humiliation, and prayer! Well, gentlemen, I
have but one word to add. The Burgesses, by their own action,
declare themselves desirous of being humiliated. They
fix on the first day of June; I will save them the trouble and
delay by humiliating them now!”
And with an angry flush upon his countenance, the
Governor turned to the clerk of the council and said,
haughtily,
“Bid the gentlemen Burgesses attend me in my council
chamber!”
The clerk bowed low, and left the apartment in the midst
of profound silence on the part of the council.
“Look now and listen!” said the stranger, in a low voice,
to St. John; “see how this coarse little terrier will snarl at
the lions of Virginia!”
The usher returned and announced that the Burgesses
were approaching.
They soon made their appearance, headed by the speaker
and the sergeant carrying the great mace, defiling into the
apartment with measured steps, and heads bent with cold
courtesy as they fronted the Governor.
Lord Dunmore's eye, for a moment, quailed before the
clear and calm gaze of these men of lofty stature and erect
port.
He nervously arranged his papers as before, and cleared
his throat. No doubt his Excellency had designed to utter
his views at length, and in a manner similar to that already
made use of to the council.
But before the array of fearless countenances with their
firm lips and cold eyes, filled with a hauteur greater even
than his own, this design seemed to be too great a tax on
his powers.
He gazed for a moment with his former mixture of nerv
ous trepidation and insulting disdain at the body, and then,
raising from the table a copy of the resolutions passed on
the previous day, he said,
“Mr. Speaker, and gentlemen of the House of Burgesses,
I have in my hand a paper, published by order of your House,
conceived in such terms as reflect highly upon his Majesty
and the Parliament of Great Britain, which makes it necessary
to dissolve you, and you are dissolved accordingly!”
Having so spoken, the Governor, with an angry and swollen
countenance, leaned back in his chair, and gazed with a
sort of fearful definance upon the Burgesses.
The speaker simply bowed, and then, followed by the
members, left the apartment in the same deliberate and
measured manner.
“Come, friend!” said the stranger to St. John, whom he
drew away, “the first scene is played, and the rest will rapidly
follow!”
