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_ It is a nigh impossible task on the memory to trace those influences by
which a lad is led to form his life's opinions, and for my part I hold
that such things are bred into the bone, and that events only serve to
strengthen them. In this way only can I account for my bitterness, at a
very early age, against that King whom my seeming environment should have
made me love. For my grandfather was as stanch a royalist as ever held
a cup to majesty's health. And children are most apt before they can
reason for themselves to take the note from those of their elders who
surround them. It is true that many of Mr. Carvel's guests were of the
opposite persuasion from him: Mr. Chase and Mr. Carroll, Mr. Lloyd and
Mr. Bordley, and many others, including our friend Captain Clapsaddle.
And these gentlemen were frequently in argument, but political discussion
is Greek to a lad.
Mr. Carvel, as I have said, was most of his life a member of the Council,
a man from whom both Governor Sharpe and Governor Eden were glad to take
advice because of his temperate judgment and deep knowledge of the people
of the province. At times, when his Council was scattered, Governor
Sharpe would consult Mr. Carvel alone, and often have I known my
grandfather to embark in haste from the Hall in response to a call from
his Excellency.
'Twas in the latter part of August, in the year 1765, made memorable by
the Stamp Act, that I first came in touch with the deep-set feelings of
the times then beginning, and I count from that year the awakening of the
sympathy which determined my career. One sultry day I was wading in the
shallows after crabs, when the Governor's messenger came drifting in, all
impatience at the lack of wind. He ran to the house to seek Mr. Carvel,
and I after him, with all a boy's curiosity, as fast as my small legs
would carry me. My grandfather hurried out to order his barge to be got
ready at once, so that I knew something important was at hand. At first
he refused me permission to go, but afterwards relented, and about eleven
in the morning we pulled away strongly, the ten blacks bending to the
oars as if their lives were at stake.
A wind arose before we sighted Greensbury Point, and I saw a bark sailing
in, but thought nothing of this until Mr. Carvel, who had been silent and
preoccupied, called for his glass and swept her decks. She soon
shortened sail, and went so leisurely that presently our light barge drew
alongside, and I perceived Mr. Zachariah Hood, a merchant of the town,
returning from London, hanging over her rail. Mr. Hood was very pale
in spite of his sea-voyage; he flung up his cap at our boat, but Mr.
Carvel's salute in return was colder than he looked for. As we came
in view of the dock, a fine rain was setting in, and to my astonishment
I beheld such a mass of people assembled as I had never seen, and scarce
standing-room on the wharves. We were to have gone to the Governor's
wharf in the Severn, but my grandfather changed his intention at once.
Many of the crowd greeted him as we drew near them, and, having landed,
respectfully made room for him to pass through. I followed him a-tremble
with excitement and delight over such an unwonted experience. We had
barely gone ten paces, however, before Mr. Carvel stopped abreast of Mr.
Claude, mine host of the Coffee House, who cried:
"Hast seen his Majesty's newest representative, Mr. Carvel?"
"Mr. Hood is on board the bark, sir," replied my grandfather. "I take it
you mean Mr. Hood."
"Ay, that I do; Mr. Zachariah Hood, come to lick stamps for his brother-
colonists."
"After licking his Majesty's boots," says a wag near by, which brings a
laugh from those about us. I remembered that I had heard some talk as to
how Mr. Hood had sought and obtained from King George the office of Stamp
Distributor for the province. Now, my grandfather, God rest him! was as
doughty an old gentleman as might well be, and would not listen without
protest to remarks which bordered sedition. He had little fear of things
below, and none of a mob.
"My masters," he shouted, with a flourish of his stick, so stoutly that
people fell back from him, "know that ye are met against the law, and
endanger the peace of his Lordship's government."
"Good enough, Mr. Carvel," said Claude, who seemed to be the spokesman.
"But how if we are stamped against law and his Lordship's government?
How then, sir? Your honour well knows we have naught against either,
and are as peaceful a mob as ever assembled."
This brought on a great laugh, and they shouted from all sides, "How
then, Mr. Carvel?" And my grandfather, perceiving that he would lose
dignity by argument, and having done his duty by a protest, was wisely
content with that. They opened wider the lane for him to pass through,
and he made his way, erect and somewhat defiant, to Mr. Pryse's, the
coachmaker opposite, holding me by the hand. The second storey of
Pryse's shop had a little balcony standing out in front, and here we
established ourselves, that we might watch what was going forward.
The crowd below grew strangely silent as the bark came nearer and nearer,
until Mr. Hood showed himself on the poop, when there rose a storm of
hisses, mingled with shouts of derision. "How goes it at St. James, Mr.
Hood?" and "Have you tasted his Majesty's barley?" And some asked him
if he was come as their member of Parliament. Mr. Hood dropped a bow,
though what he said was drowned. The bark came in prettily enough, men
in the crowd even catching her lines and making them fast to the piles.
A gang-plank was thrown over. "Come out, Mr. Hood," they cried; "we are
here to do you honour, and to welcome you home again." There were
leather breeches with staves a-plenty around that plank, and faces that
meant no trifling. "McNeir, the rogue," exclaimed Mr. Carvel, "and that
hulk of a tanner, Brown. And I would know those smith's shoulders in a
thousand." "Right, sir," says Pryse, "and 'twill serve them proper.
when the King's troops come among them for quartering." Pryse being the
gentry's patron, shaped his politics according to the company he was in:
he could ill be expected to seize one of his own ash spokes and join the
resistance. Just then I caught a glimpse of Captain Clapsaddle on the
skirts of the crowd, and with him Mr. Swain and some of the dissenting
gentry. And my boyish wrath burst forth against that man smirking and
smiling on the decks of the bark, so that I shouted shrilly: "Mr. Hood
will be cudgelled and tarred as he deserves," and shook my little fist at
him, so that many under us laughed and cheered me. Mr. Carvel pushed me
back into the window and out of their sight.
The crew of the bark had assembled on the quarterdeck, stout English tars
every man of them, armed with pikes and belaying-pins; and at a word from
the mate they rushed in a body over the plank. Some were thrust off into
the water, but so fierce was their onset that others gained the wharf,
laying sharply about them in all directions, but getting full as many
knocks as they gave. For a space there was a very bedlam of cries and
broken heads, those behind in the mob surging forward to reach the
scrimmage, forcing their own comrades over the edge. McNeir had his
thigh broken by a pike, and was dragged back after the first rush was
over; and the mate of the bark was near to drowning, being rescued,
indeed, by Graham, the tanner. Mr. Hood stood white in the gangway,
dodging a missile now and then, waiting his chance, which never came.
For many of the sailors were captured and carried bodily to the "Rose and
Crown" and the "Three Blue Balls," where they became properly drunk on
Jamaica rum; others made good their escape on board. And at length the
bark cast off again, amidst jeers and threats, and one-third of her crew
missing, and drifted slowly back to the roads.
From the dock, after all was quiet, Mr. Carvel stepped into his barge and
rowed to the Governor's, whose house was prettily situated near Hanover
Street, with ground running down to the Severn. His Excellency appeared
much relieved to see my grandfather; Mr. Daniel Dulany was with him, and
the three gentlemen at once repaired to the Governor's writing-closet for
consultation.
Mr. Carvel's town house being closed, we stopped with his Excellency.
There were, indeed, scarce any of the gentry in town at that season save
a few of the Whig persuasion. Excitement ran very high; farmers flocked
in every day from the country round about to take part in the
demonstration against the Act. Mr. Hood's storehouse was burned to the
ground. Mr. Hood getting ashore by stealth, came, however, unmolested to
Annapolis and offered at a low price the goods he had brought out in the
bark, thinking thus to propitiate his enemies. This step but inflamed
them the more.
My grandfather having much business to look to, I was left to my own
devices, and the devices of an impetuous lad of twelve are not always
such as his elders would choose for him. I was continually burning with
a desire to see what was proceeding in the town, and hearing one day a
great clamour and tolling of bells, I ran out of the Governor's gate and
down Northwest Street to the Circle, where a strange sight met my eyes.
A crowd like that I had seen on the dock had collected there, Mr. Swain
and Mr. Hammond and other barristers holding them in check. Mounted
on a one-horse cart was a stuffed figure of the detested Mr. Hood.
Mr. Hammond made a speech, but for the laughter and cheering I could not
catch a word of it. I pushed through the people, as a boy will, diving
between legs to get a better view, when I felt a hand upon my shoulder,
bringing me up suddenly. And I recognized Mr. Matthias Tilghman, and
with him was Mr. Samuel Chase.
"Does your grandfather know you are here, lad?" said Mr. Tilghman.
I paused a moment for breath before I answered: "He attended the rally
at the dock himself, sir, and I believe enjoyed it."
Both gentlemen smiled, and Mr. Chase remarked that if all the other party
were like Mr. Carvel, troubles would soon cease. "I mean not Grafton,"
says he, with a wink at Mr. Tilghman.
"I'll warrant, Richard, your uncle would be but ill pleased to see you in
such company."
"Nay, sir," I replied, for I never feared to speak up, "there are you
wrong. I think it would please my uncle mightily."
"The lad hath indifferent penetration," said Mr, Tilghman, laughing, and
adding more soberly: "If you never do worse than this, Richard, Maryland
may some day be proud of you."
Mr. Hammond having finished his speech, a paper was placed in the hand of
the effigy, and the crowd bore it shouting and singing to the hill, where
Mr. John Shaw, the city carpenter, had made a gibbet. There nine and
thirty lashes were bestowed on the unfortunate image, the people crying
out that this was the Mosaic Law. And I cried as loud as any, though I
knew not the meaning of the words. They hung Mr. Hood to the gibbet and
set fire to a tar barrel under him, and so left him.
The town wore a holiday look that day, and I was loth to go back to
the Governor's house. Good patriots' shops were closed, their owners
parading as on Sunday in their best, pausing in knots at every corner
to discuss the affair with which the town simmered. I encountered old
Farris, the clockmaker, in his brown coat besprinkled behind with powder
from his queue. "How now, Master Richard?" says he, merrily. "This is
no place for young gentlemen of your persuasion."
Next I came upon young Dr. Courtenay, the wit of the Tuesday Club, of
whom I shall have more to say hereafter. He was taking the air with Mr.
James Fotheringay, Will's eldest brother, but lately back from Oxford and
the Temple.
The doctor wore five-pound ruffles and a ten-pound wig, was dressed in
cherry silk, and carried a long, clouded cane. His hat had the latest
cock, for he was our macaroni of Annapolis.
"Egad, Richard," he cries, "you are the only other loyalist I have seen
abroad to-day."
I remember swelling with indignation at the affront. "I call them
Tories, sir," I flashed back, "and I am none such." "No Tory!" says he,
nudging Mr. Fotheringay, who was with him; "I had as lief believe your
grandfather hated King George." I astonished them both by retorting that
Mr. Carvel might think as he pleased, that being every man's right; but
that I chose to be a Whig. "I would tell you as a friend, young man,"
replied the doctor, "that thy politics are not over politic." And they
left me puzzling, laughing with much relish over some catch in the
doctor's words. As for me, I could perceive no humour in them.
It was now near six of the clock, but instead of going direct to the
Governor's I made my way down Church Street toward the water. Near the
dock I saw many people gathered in the street in front of the "Ship"
tavern, a time-honoured resort much patronized by sailors. My curiosity
led me to halt there also. The "Ship" had stood in that place nigh on to
three-score years, it was said. Its latticed windows were swung open,
and from within came snatches of "Tom Bowling," "Rule Britannia," and
many songs scarce fit for a child to hear. Now and anon some one in the
street would throw back a taunt to these British sentiments, which went
unheeded. "They be drunk as lords," said Weld, the butcher's apprentice,
"and when they comes out we'll hev more than one broken head in this
street." The songs continuing, he cried again, "Come out, d-n ye." Weld
had had more than his own portion of rum that day. Spying me seated on
the gate-post opposite, he shouted: "So ho, Master Carvel, the streets
are not for his Majesty's supporters to-day." Other artisans who were
there bade him leave me in peace, saying that my grandfather was a good
friend of the people. The matter might have ended there had I been older
and wiser, but the excitement of the day had gone to my head like wine.
"I am as stout a patriot as you, Weld," I shouted back, and flushed at
the cheering that followed. And Weld ran up to me, and though I was a
good piece of a lad, swung me lightly onto his shoulder. "Harkee, Master
Richard," he said, "I can get nothing out of the poltroons by shouting.
Do you go in and say that Weld will fight any mother's son of them
single-handed."
"For shame, to send a lad into a tavern," said old Bobbins, who had known
my grandfather these many years. But the desire for a row was so great
among the rest that they silenced him. Weld set me down, and I, nothing
loth, ran through the open door.
I had never before been in the "Ship," nor, indeed, in any tavern save
that of Master Dingley, near Carvel Hall. The "Ship" was a bare place
enough, with low black beams and sanded floor, and rough tables and
chairs set about. On that September evening it was stifling hot; and
the odours from the men, and the spilled rum and tobacco smoke, well-nigh
overpowered me. The room was filled with a motley gang of sailors,
mostly from the bark Mr. Hood had come on, and some from H.M.S. Hawk,
then lying in the harbour.
A strapping man-o'-war's-man sat near the door, his jacket thrown open
and his great chest bared, and when he perceived me he was in the act of
proposing a catch; 'twas "The Great Bell o' Lincoln," I believe; and he
held a brimming cup of bumbo in his hand. In his surprise he set it
awkwardly down again, thereby spilling full half of it. "Avast," says
he, with an oath, "what's this come among us?" and he looked me over
with a comical eye. "A d-d provincial," he went on scornfully, "but a
gentleman's son, or Jack Ball's a liar." Whereupon his companions rose
from their seats and crowded round me. More than one reeled against me.
And though I was somewhat awed by the strangeness of that dark, ill-
smelling room, and by the rough company in which I found myself, I held
my ground, and spoke up as strongly as I might.
"Weld, the butcher's apprentice, bids me say he will fight any man among
you single-handed."
"So ho, my little gamecock, my little schooner with a swivel," said he
who had called himself Jack Ball, "and where can this valiant butcher be
found?"
"He waits in the street," I answered more boldly.
"Split me fore and aft if he waits long," said Jack, draining the rest of
his rum. And picking me up as easily as did Weld he rushed out of the
door, and after him as many of his mates as could walk or stagger
thither.
In the meantime the news had got abroad in the street that the butcher's
apprentice was to fight one of the Hawk's men, and when I emerged from
the tavern the crowd had doubled, and people were running hither in all
haste from both directions. But that fight was never to be. Big Jack
Ball had scarce set me down and shouted a loud defiance, shaking his fist
at Weld, who stood out opposite, when a soldierly man on a great horse
turned the corner and wheeled between the combatants. I knew at a glance
it was Captain Clapsaddle, and guiltily wished myself at the Governor's.
The townspeople knew him likewise, and many were slinking away even
before he spoke, as his charger stood pawing the ground.
"What's this I hear, you villain," said he to Weld, in his deep, ringing
voice, "that you have not only provoked a row with one of the King's
sailors, but have dared send a child into that tavern with your fool's
message?"
Weld was awkward and sullen enough, and no words came to him.
"Your tongue, you sot," the captain went on, drawing his sword in his
anger, "is it true you have made use of a gentleman's son for your low
purposes?"
But Weld was still silent, and not a sound came from either side until
old Robbins spoke up.
"There are many here can say I warned him, your honour," he said.
"Warned him!" cried the captain. "Mr. Carvel has just given you twenty
pounds for your wife, and you warned him!"
Robbins said no more; and the butcher's apprentice, hanging his head,
as well he might before the captain, I was much moved to pity for him,
seeing that my forwardness had in some sense led him on.
"Twas in truth my fault, captain," I cried out. The captain looked at
me, and said nothing. After that the butcher made bold to take up his
man's defence.
"Master Carvel was indeed somewhat to blame, sir," said he, "and Weld is
in liquor."
"And I'll have him to pay for his drunkenness," said Captain Clapsaddle,
hotly. "Get to your homes," he cried. "Ye are a lot of idle hounds, who
would make liberty the excuse for riot." He waved his sword at the pack
of them, and they scattered like sheep until none but Weld was left.
"And as for you, Weld," he continued, "you'll rue this pretty business,
or Daniel Clapsaddle never punished a cut-throat." And turning to Jack
Ball, he bade him lift me to the saddle, and so I rode with him to the
Governor's without a word; for I knew better than to talk when he was
in that mood.
The captain was made to tarry and sup with his Excellency and my
grandfather, and I sat perforce a fourth at the table, scarce daring to
conjecture as to the outcome of my escapade. But as luck would have it,
the Governor had been that day in such worry and perplexity, and my
grandfather also, that my absence had passed unnoticed. Nor did my good
friend the captain utter a word to them of what he knew. But afterwards
he called me to him and set me upon his knee. How big, and kind, and
strong he was, and how I loved his bluff soldier's face and blunt ways.
And when at last he spoke, his words burnt deep in my memory, so that
even now I can repeat them.
"Richard," he said, "I perceive you are like your father. I love your
spirit greatly, but you have been overrash to-day. Remember this, lad,
that you are a gentleman, the son of the bravest and truest gentleman I
have ever known, save one; and he is destined to high things." I know
now that he spoke of Colonel Washington. "And that your mother," here
his voice trembled,--"your mother was a lady, every inch of her, and too
good for this world. Remember, and seek no company, therefore, beyond
that circle in which you were born. Fear not to be kind and generous,
as I know you ever will be, but choose not intimates from the tavern."
Here the captain cleared his throat, and seemed to seek for words.
"I fear there are times coming, my lad," he went on presently, "when
every man must choose his side, and stand arrayed in his own colours.
It is not for me to shape your way of thinking. Decide in your own mind
that which is right, and when you have so decided,"--he drew his sword,
as was his habit when greatly moved, and placed his broad hand upon my
head,--"know then that God is with you, and swerve not from thy course
the width of this blade for any man."
We sat upon a little bench in the Governor's garden, in front of us the
wide Severn merging into the bay, and glowing like molten gold in the
setting sun. And I was thrilled with a strange reverence such as I have
sometimes since felt in the presence of heroes. _
Read next: VOLUME 1: CHAPTER IV. Grafton would heal an Old Breach
Read previous: VOLUME 1: CHAPTER II. Some Memories of Childhood
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