Daughters of the Revolution and Their Times Part 32

"It is not a pleasing sight--the presence of so many troops," Robert remarked.

"Nominally, we are under civil law; but in reality our civil rights are gone, and we are under military government," Mr. Knox replied.

Two officers entered the store and were courteously received by the bookseller, who showed them the latest books received from London. He informed Robert, in a whisper, that they were Major John Small and Ensign De Berniere. Another gentleman entered, a citizen, whose coat was covered with dust, as if he had been long on the road. He was heartily welcomed by Mr. Knox, who introduced him to Robert as Colonel Israel Putnam of Connecticut.

"I think I have heard my father speak of you; he was a lieutenant under Captain Stark at Ticonderoga. Perhaps you remember him," Robert said.

"Indeed I do remember Joshua Walden, and a braver man never wore a uniform in the Rifle Rangers than he."

The major of the king's troops laid down his book and approached with outstretched hand.

"Well, I declare! If here isn't my old friend Putnam," he said.

There was mutual hand-shaking between Major Small and Colonel Putnam, who had fought side by side under the walls of Ticonderoga and at Fort Edward.

"And so you are here to enforce the Regulation Act," said Putnam.

"It is because you are rebellious," Small replied.

"You are attempting to subvert our liberties by enforcing unrighteous laws. The Colonies exhibited their loyalty to the king when we stood side by side to drive out the French. We taxed ourselves to the utmost. England has repaid but a very small proportion of the cost. We were loyal then, and we are loyal now; but we never will submit to tyranny," continued Putnam.

"The people of this town threw the tea into the dock, and now they must pay for it. Those that dance must settle with the fiddler," Small replied.

"Not one penny will we ever pay. Parliament and the king have closed the port, bringing distress upon the community; but it has awakened the sympathies of the country from Pa.s.samaquoddy to Savannah. Now, Small, you are an old soldier, and so am I; we have smelled gunpowder, and can afford to talk plainly. You are here, five thousand or more, with several thousand additional troops just ready to sail from England. You have come to overawe us by force of arms. You have changed the charter of this Province; if this, why not all the others?

Why do you do it? I say you, for you represent the king; you do it because you are determined to make the Colonies subservient to the crown. You cannot bear to have us manufacture anything this side of the sea, and are determined to make us your milch cow. Let me tell you that you won't succeed. You do not know the spirit of the people. Let one drop of blood be shed by the troops, and a mighty host of armed men will close around you. I know you can fight, and so can we; if you don't think so, try it."

"Ha, ha! Put, you are the same old flint, ever ready to strike fire.

We won't quarrel now. Come, let us step down to the Bunch of Grapes, have a gla.s.s of wine, and talk over old times."

Arm in arm they walked down King Street to the tavern.

Early the following afternoon Miss Newville was welcomed to the Brandon home.

"It is a long time since we have met," she said, reaching out her hand to Robert. "I am pleased to see you once more. I hope you are well.

And how is Rachel?"

Many times he had thought of her as he last beheld her, standing beneath the portico of her home in the radiant light of the moon. Her parting words had been an abiding memory--"Good-by, till we meet again." Once more her hand was resting in his. She was no longer a girl, but entering upon womanhood. He told the reason of his being there, to bring the gift of Rumford to the suffering poor. She had many questions to ask about Rachel. Was she still making cheese? Had she many flowers?

"I suppose Rachel's brother prepares the flowerbeds as in former years," she said, laughing.

"Yes, I spaded them for her."

"Berinthia informs me that she has found her true love."

"So it appears."

"I doubt not she is very happy."

"She seems to be; she is singing from morning till night."

"I am so glad. I only saw Mr. Stanley at the time of the launching of the ship, you remember, but thought him worthy of any woman's love. Do you still have delightful times at quiltings and huskings?"

"In the country, customs rarely change. The young ladies still have their quilting parties. Rachel will soon be getting her fixings, and we doubtless shall have jolly times."

"I should like to be able to help her. With so many things to care for, I do not suppose she finds much time for reading?"

"Very little. Besides, we do not have many books to read. 'The New Hampshire Gazette' comes once a week, giving us a little glimpse of what is going on in the world."

"I forgot you have no bookstore with all the new volumes printed in London,--history, travel, poetry, and novels, as we have here."

She said that Mr. Knox, the bookseller, had been very kind to her, supplying her with the new books arriving from London, and had just handed her the poems of Oliver Goldsmith.

The afternoon waned.

"Shall we go up on the housetop and see the sun set?" Berinthia asked.

The harbor, the fleet of warships at anchor, the distant ocean, the distant woodlands, made a beautiful panorama.

"When I see such beauty," said Miss Newville, "I want to be an artist or a poet to give expression to my feelings. See the purple and gold on the Milton Hills, the light on the water, the russet and crimson of the forests! How beautiful!" she cried, with a rich bloom upon her cheek as she gazed upon the landscape. The tap of a drum and the tramping of a regiment along the street attracted her attention. "I am weary of seeing scarlet uniforms," she said.

"Will you not make an exception of those who call upon Miss Newville?"

Berinthia asked.

"No. I do not even care to see General Gage or Earl Percy in their gold-laced coats. They are delightful gentlemen, and frequent visitors in our home. I find much pleasure in listening to Earl Percy's description of things in London; but I should be better pleased were he to visit us as a citizen, laying aside his military trappings, the emblems of arbitrary power."

[Ill.u.s.tration: LORD PERCY]

The sun was sinking behind the western hills. As the last beams faded from the gilded vane of Christ Church, they heard the beating of drums and the shrill piping of boatswain's whistles on the decks of the warships. A cannon flashed on the bastion of the Castle, and the boom of the gun rolled far away as the Cross of St. George descended from flagstaff and topmast to be furled for the night.

"It is the sunset gun; the signal for taking down the flags," said Berinthia.

"I often watch from my chamber window for the flashing of the cannon,"

Miss Newville remarked.

"It is a beautiful sight; but would be more exhilarating if the flag was what it ought to be," said Robert.

The twilight had not faded from the sky when Robert accompanied Miss Newville to her home. Officers of the king's regiments lifted their hats to her upon the way; their attentions were recognized with dignified grace. Robert saw scowls on their faces as they glared at him, as if to challenge his right to be her escort.

"The night is hot and the air sultry, and if you please, Mr. Walden, we will sit in the garden rather than in the house," she said.

They strolled beneath the trees bending with the weight of ripening fruit, and seated themselves in a rustic arbor. The early grapes were purpling above them.

"I do not know, Mr. Walden, that I quite comprehended your meaning when you said the flag would be more beautiful if it were what it ought to be. I think it very beautiful as it is."

"I did not have reference, Miss Newville, to the texture or quality of the cloth, or the arrangement of colors, neither to the devices,--the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew,--but thought of it as a symbol of power. My father fought under it, and it has waved in triumph on many battlefields; but just now it is being used to deprive us of our rights."

"Have you ever read the legend of St. George?" she asked.