Daughters of the Revolution and Their Times Read online

  IX.

  THE LOBSTERS AND ROPEMAKERS.

  Although March had come, the snow was still deep upon the ground.Robert and Rachel could prolong their stay in Boston and enjoy thehospitality of their friends. It was Monday evening the 5th of themonth. Berinthia had invited Ruth Newville to tea.

  "The soldiers and the ropemakers are at loggerheads," said Tom, as hecame in and laid aside his coat.

  "What is the trouble?" Robert asked.

  "It seems that a negro hemp-stretcher, down in Gray's ropewalk[42],last Friday asked a soldier if he wanted to work, and the redcoatreplied he did. What the ropemaker told him to do wasn't very nice,and they had a set-to. The soldier got the worst of it, and sworevengeance. The redcoat went to the barracks, but was soon back againwith eight others, armed with clubs, swearing they'd split the skullsof the beggars. The ropemakers seized their woolding-sticks, and theyhad it hot and heavy, but the lobsters got a licking. You'd betterbelieve there was a buzzing in the barracks. Pretty soon betweenthirty and forty of the hirelings, armed with bayonets, clubs, andcutlasses, rushed down to the ropewalk. The ropemakers rallied, butall told they were only fourteen. They showed what stuff they weremade of, though, and proved themselves the better men. They whackedthe lobsters' skulls and drove them."

  [Footnote 42: Edward Gray, in 1712, purchased a large tract of land onthe westerly side of Hutchinson's Lane, now Pearl Street, and erecteda ropewalk seven hundred and forty feet long. The large number ofships built in Boston and other New England towns made it a lucrativeoccupation. His son, Harrison Gray, was appointed treasurer of theProvince. He was a loyalist, and took his departure from Boston uponits evacuation by the British. His property was confiscated to thestate. He proceeded from Halifax to London, where he gave generoushospitality to his fellow exiles in that city.]

  "Good for the ropemakers," said Berinthia, clapping her hands.

  Robert saw a lighting up of Miss Newville's eyes, but no word fellfrom her lips.

  "I fear," said Mr. Brandon, "there will be an outbreak between thesoldiers and the people. Since the funeral of Snider, the soldiershave been growing more insolent. The long stay of the troops withnothing to do except the daily drill and parade, and drinking toddy,has demoralized them. The under-officers are but little better thanthe men, spending most of their time in the taverns playing cards.Discipline is lax. I shall not be surprised at whatever may happen."

  Miss Newville and Robert sat down to a game of checkers. He debatedwith himself whether or not he would let her win the first game. Wouldit be gentlemanly to defeat her? Ought he not to allow her to win? Butalmost before he was aware of what had happened she was victor, and hewas making apology for playing so badly. Again the men were set, andagain, although he did his best to win, his men were swept from theboard.

  "I see I'm no match for you," he said.

  "I am not so sure about that. I saw your mistake. You would soon learnto correct it," she said with a smile.

  Although yet early in the evening, Miss Newville said she must begoing home, as her parents might be concerned for her.

  "I trust the soldiers will not molest you," said Mrs. Brandon, biddingMiss Newville farewell.

  "I am sure I shall be safe with Mr. Walden," she replied. There was ameaning in her eyes which he alone understood, the silent reference totheir first meeting.

  The moon was at its full, its silver light gleaming upon the untroddensnow. There was no need for them to hasten their steps when the nightwas so lovely.

  "Oh, look, Mr. Walden! see Christ Church!" Miss Newville exclaimed."Tower, belfry, turret, and steeple are glazed with frozen sea-mistand driven snow."

  The church loomed before them in the refulgent light, a mass ofshining silver. Above all was the tapering spire and golden vane.

  "It is the poetry of nature. Such beauty thrills me. I feel, butcannot express, my pleasure," she said.

  "It is indeed very beautiful," he replied. "The snow, the silver,gold, light and shade, the steeple tapering to a point, make it awonderful picture. Would that you could see on such a night as thisthe view from my own home,--upland and valley, meadow and forest,walls and fences, leafless oaks, elms, and maples in fields andpastures, pure white and shining like polished silver in themoonlight, and all the twigs and branches glittering with diamonds. Onsuch nights, when the crust is hard and firm, we boys and girls pileourselves on a sled and go like the wind from the top of the hill inthe pasture down to the meadow, across the intervale, over the riverbank, and out upon the gleaming ice. We wake the echoes with ourlaughter and have a jolly time."

  "Oh, how I should enjoy it," she said.

  Suddenly they heard other voices, and as they turned the corner of thestreet came upon a group of men and boys armed with cudgels.

  "We'll give it to the lobsters," they heard one say.

  "I fear there may be trouble," Robert remarked, recalling theconversation at the supper-table.

  Passing the home of Doctor Warren, they saw a light burning in hisoffice, and by the shadow on the window curtain knew he was seated athis writing-desk. Turning from Hanover towards Queen Street, theyfound several soldiers in earnest conversation blocking the way.

  "I'd like to split the heads of the blackguards," said one,flourishing a cutlass.

  "Will you please allow me to pass?" said Robert.

  "When you take off your hat to us," the answer.

  "This is the king's highway," said Robert.

  He felt Miss Newville's arm clinging more firmly to his own.

  "You can pass if your wench gives me a kiss," said the soldier withthe cutlass.

  Swiftly Robert's right arm and clenched fist sent the fellow headlonginto the snow. He faced the others a moment, and then with MissNewville walked leisurely away. He could feel her heart palpitatingagainst his arm. He cast a glance behind, but the redcoats were notfollowing him.

  "It seems we are fated to meet ill-bred men," he said.

  "Oh, Mr. Walden, how resolute and brave you are!"

  "It is not difficult to be courageous when you know you are right."

  "But they are so many."

  "We are more than they," he replied, smiling.

  "More than they! We are only two."

  "He who is in the right has all of God's host with him. They knew theywere in the wrong; that made them cowards."

  Again he felt the warmth and pressure of her arm, as if she would say,"I know I shall be safe with you to protect me."

  They were passing King's Chapel. Its gray walls never had seemed sopicturesque as on that evening with the moon casting the shadows ofpillar, cornice, roof, and tower upon the pure white snow that hadfallen through the day. Beyond it were the young elms of Long Acre,twig and limb a mass of glittering diamonds. They stood at lastbeneath the portico of her home.

  "I have been thinking," she said, "of the strange happenings that havecome to us--how you have been my protector from insult. I cannotexpress my gratitude, Mr. Walden."

  "Please do not mention it, Miss Newville. I should indeed be apoltroon did I not resent an indignity to a lady, especially to you. Iesteem it an honor to have made your acquaintance. May I say I cannotfind words to express the pleasure I have had in your society? I donot know that I shall see you again before we start on our homewardjourney."

  "Must you go? Can you not prolong your stay?"

  King's Chapel, 1895.]

  "We have already overstayed our time; but not to our regret. I nevershall forget, Miss Newville, these days and evenings which you, withBerinthia, Tom, Miss Shrimpton, and Roger Stanley have made soenjoyable."

  "I trust we shall not be like ships that signal each other inmid-ocean, then sail away never to meet again," she replied.

  She reached out her hand to bid him farewell. It rested willingly inhis.

  "I hope," she said, "I never shall be so ungrateful as to forget whatyou have done for me. I certainly shall not forget the lesson you havetaught me--to stand resolutely for the right. I shall always be
pleased to see you."

  "You may be sure, Miss Newville, I never shall fail to pay my respectsto one whose very presence makes life more beautiful and worth theliving."

  The full moon was falling upon her face. Her eyes seemed to be lookingfar away. He saw for a moment a shade of sadness upon her countenance,succeeded by a smile. Her hand was still resting in his.

  "Good-by till we meet again," her parting words.

  Never before had he felt such an uplifting of spirit. "Till we meetagain" would ever be like a strain of music. He lingered awhile, loathto leave the spot. A light was soon shining in her chamber. Thecurtains revealed her shadow. It was something to know she was there.Would she think of him when lying down to sleep? When would he againbehold those loving eyes, that radiant face, that beauty of soul seenin every feature? What had the future in store for them? Ah! what hadit? The light in the chamber was extinguished, and he turned away.Once more he lingered by the gray walls of King's Chapel to take aparting look at the white-curtained window, and then walked to QueenStreet, past the jail and printing office. It would be a pleasure tostand once more upon the spot where first he met her.

  He heard a commotion in the direction of Dock Square,--oaths andcurses; and suddenly beheld citizens running, followed by soldiers,whose swords were flashing in the moonlight. They followed the fleeingpeople nearly to the town pump, then turned and disappeared in analley.

  "What has happened?" Robert asked of a man who had a pail of oystersin his hand.

  "What? Just see what I've got from the hellish rascals," the manreplied, setting down the pail and pointing to a gash on his shoulder."The red-coated devils are cutting and slashing everybody. They areripping and swearing they'll kill every blasted Son of Liberty."

  While the oysterman was speaking, a little boy came along, piteouslycrying.

  "What's the matter, my boy?" Robert asked.

  Amid his sobs it was learned that the boy's father sent him on anerrand; that while peacefully walking the street, a soldier rushedupon him swearing, aiming a blow, felling him to the ground with hissword.

  "I'll kill every Yankee whelp in Boston," said the redcoat.

  Again there was a commotion--soldiers rushing towards Dock Square.

  "Where are the blackguards? let's kill 'em," they shouted.

  "Come on, you dirty cowards; we are ready for ye," the answeringshout.

  Robert could hear oaths and vile words, and then the whacking ofclubs, and saw the soldiers fleeing towards their barracks followed bythe people. A man with a stout club came along the street.

  "What's going on?" Robert asked.

  "We are giving it to the poltroons. We'll drive 'em off Long Wharf.They rushed out upon us just now, with shovels, tongs, swords, andbaggernets, and called us cowards. We whacked 'em with our clubs anddrove the ruffians--blast their picters."

  The commotion was increasing. Robert walked towards the barracks tolearn the meaning of it. Reaching an alley, he saw a crowd ofsoldiers, and that the officers were trying to get them within thebarrack gates. Towards Dock Square was a group of young menflourishing cudgels, and daring the lobsters to come on.

  "Let's set the bell ringing," he heard one say, and two apprenticesrushed past him towards the meetinghouse.

  The officers, the while, were closing the barrack gates.

  "To the main guard! Let us clean out that viper's nest," shouted one;and the apprentices moved towards King Street.

  The bell was ringing. Robert walked back to the pump, and past it tothe meetinghouse. Citizens were coming with fire-buckets. He could seeby the clock above him that it was ten minutes past nine. Mr. Knox,the bookseller, came, out of breath with running.

  "It is not a fire, but there is trouble with the soldiers," saidRobert.

  Together they walked down King Street, and saw the sentinel at theCustom House loading his gun. Robert learned that a boy had hurled asnowball at him.

  "Stand back, or I'll shoot," said the soldier to those gathering roundhim.

  "If you fire, you'll die for it," said Mr. Knox.

  "I don't care if I do," the sentinel replied with an oath.

  "You daren't fire," shouted a boy.

  The redcoat raised his gun, and pulled the trigger. The lock clicked,but the powder did not flash.

  "Spit in the pan!" said another boy, chaffing him.

  "Guard! Guard!" shouted the sentinel, calling the main guard.

  Captain Preston, with a file of men, came from the guardhouse upon therun, in response to the call. The meetinghouse bell was still ringing,and other bells began to clang. The soldiers, nine in number, formedin front of the Custom House with their bayonets fixed, and broughttheir guns to a level as if to fire. Robert thought there were thirtyor more young men and boys in the street. Among them was a burly negroleaning on a stick, and looking at the soldiers. The others called himCrisp.

  "Are your guns loaded?" asked a man of Captain Preston, commanding thesoldiers.

  "Yes."

  "Are they going to fire?"

  "They can't without my orders."

  "For God's sake, captain, take your men back again, for if you fireyour life must answer for it," said Mr. Knox, seizing the captain bythe coat.

  "I know what I'm about," Captain Preston replied.

  The bayonets of the soldiers almost touched the breasts of CrispusAttucks and Samuel Gray. The negro was still leaning upon his cudgel,and Gray stood proudly before them with folded arms, a free citizen,in the dignity of his manhood protesting against the system ofgovernment instituted by King George and his ministry.

  "You don't dare to fire," he said.

  Why should they fire? The jeering apprentices before them had no guns,only sticks and clubs; they were not fifty in number. What had theydone? Thrown a snowball at the sentinel; called him names; pointedtheir fingers at him; dared him to fire. It was not this, however,which had brought the guns to a level; but the drubbing the ropemakershad given them, and the funeral of Christopher Snider. These were notthe beginning of the trouble, but rather the arrogance, greed,selfishness, and intolerance of the repressive measures of a bigotking, a servile ministry, and a venial Parliament.

  Robert heard the clicking of gun-locks. He did not hear any order fromCaptain Preston, but a gun flashed, and then the entire file fired. Hesaw the negro, Samuel Gray, and several others reel to the ground,their warm blood spurting upon the newly fallen snow. There was ashriek from the fleeing apprentices. Robert, Mr. Knox, and severalothers ran to those who had been shot, lifted them tenderly, andcarried them into a house. Doctor Warren, hearing the volley, camerunning to learn the meaning of it. He examined the wounded. "CrispusAttucks has been struck by two balls; either would have been fatal. Hedied instantly," the doctor said.

  By the side of the negro lay Samuel Gray, who had stood so calmly withfolded arms, the bayonets within a foot of his heart. In the bloom ofyouth, Samuel Maverick, seventeen years old, who had come to find thefire, was lying upon the ground, his heart's blood oozing upon thesnow. Patrick Carr and Samuel Caldwell, who also had come to put out afire, were dying, and six others were wounded. The soldiers werereloading their guns, preparing for another volley. Robert heard therat-a-tat of a drum, and saw the Twenty-Ninth Regiment march into thestreet from Pudding Lane, the front rank kneeling, the rear rankstanding, with guns loaded, bayonets fixed, and ready to fire.

  "To arms! To arms!"

  He could hear the cry along Cornhill, and down in Dock Square. All themeetinghouse bells were clanging and people were gathering with guns,swords, clubs, shovels, crowbars, and pitchforks.

  Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson came.[43]

  [Footnote 43: Thomas Hutchinson was a native of Boston. He graduatedfrom Harvard College, 1727. He became a merchant, but wasunsuccessful; studied law and opened an office in Boston. He was sentto London by the town as its agent, and upon his return was elected tothe legislature several years in succession. He held the office ofjudge of probate, and was a councilor from 1749 to 1766, alieu
tenant-governor from 1758 to 1771. He was also appointed chiefjustice, 1758. At the time this story opens he was holding four highoffices under the crown. Upon the departure of Governor FrancisBernard for England in the autumn of 1769, Hutchinson became actinggovernor. He was commissioned as governor, 1771. In May, 1770, heissued his proclamation for the legislature to meet in Cambridge; butthat body insisted that the terms of the charter required the GeneralCourt to assemble in Boston. A sharp and bitter controversy followed.Doctor Franklin was appointed agent of the Province to look after itswelfare before Parliament. In 1773 he came into possession of a largenumber of letters written by Hutchinson to Mr. Whately, one of theunder-secretaries, advising the ministry to take coercive measureswith Massachusetts. Franklin sent the letters to Thomas Cushingspeaker of the House of Representatives. Their publication aroused theindignation of the people, which was increased by the action ofHutchinson in connection with the arrival of the tea-ships. He becamevery unpopular and sailed for England, June 3, 1774. So eager was theking to see him that he was summoned into his royal presence before hehad time to change his clothing. He assured King George that the billclosing the port of Boston to commerce was a wise and beneficentmeasure, and would compel the people to submit to royal authority. Theconversation lasted two hours. Upon its conclusion the king expressedhis great pleasure for the information and comfort Hutchinson hadgiven him. He was created a baronet, and was consulted by Lord Northand the other members of the ministry. That his opinions had greatweight with the king and his ministers, and that he was largelyinstrumental in bringing about the Revolutionary War, cannot bequestioned. He died at Brompton, near London, June 3, 1780.]

  "Are you the officer who was in command of the troops?" he asked,addressing Captain Preston.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do you know you have no power to fire upon the people except by orderof a magistrate?"

  "I was obliged to fire to save the sentry."

  "That's a lie," shouted the crowd.

  The surging multitude compelled the lieutenant-governor to enter theTown House. A few moments later he appeared upon the balconyoverlooking King Street.

  "I am greatly grieved," he said, "at what has happened. I pledge youmy honor that this unhappy occurrence shall be inquired into. The lawshall have its course. Now, fellow-citizens, let me urge you to retireto your homes."

  "No, no! Send the troops to their barracks. We won't go till they aregone!" the shout from the people.

  "I have no power to order them."

  The Town House.]

  "The troops to their barracks! to their barracks!"

  "I cannot do it; I have no authority."

  "Arrest Preston! Hang the villains! To the barracks!" shouted theangry multitude.

  "I will consult with the officers," said Hutchinson.

  He went into the council chamber. Louder the outcry of the indignantpeople. The troops were as they had been, drawn up in two lines, thefront rank kneeling, ready to fire upon the gathering multitude.Robert felt that it was a critical moment. If the troops were to fireinto the surging throng, the gutters would run with blood.

  "The troops to their barracks! Away with them!" the cry.

  "I will order them to their barracks," said Colonel Dalrymple, whorecognized the danger of the moment.

  Robert breathed more freely when the front rank rose, and the troopsfiled once more through Pudding Lane to their quarters.

  Tom Brandon had come with his gun ready to fight. A great crowdgathered around the Town House where the governor was holding a courtof inquiry. Robert and Tom edged themselves into the room, and heardwhat was said and saw what was going on. It was nearly three o'clockin the morning when the magistrates directed the sheriff to putCaptain Preston and the soldiers who had fired the volley in jail. Itwas a great satisfaction to Robert and Tom to go up Queen Street andsee the redcoats enter the jail and hear the key click in the lockbehind them. Civil law was still supreme.

  The night was far gone when Robert reached the Brandon home. Althoughretiring to his chamber, he could not compose himself to sleep. He waslooking into the future, wondering what would be the outcome of themassacre.

  Long before the rising of the sun the following morning, the streetswere swarming with people, hastening in from the country, with musketson their shoulders, with indignation and fierce determination manifestin every feature, assembling in Faneuil Hall; but only a few of themultitude could get into the building.

  "The Old South! Old South!" cried the people, and the crowd surgedthrough Dock Square and along Cornhill to the Old South Meetinghouse.Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Joseph Warren, and others were chosen acommittee to wait on the governor in the council chamber.

  "The inhabitants and soldiery can no longer live together in safety;nothing can restore peace and prevent further carnage but theimmediate removal of the troops," said Mr. Adams, speaking for thecommittee.

  Colonel Dalrymple informed Governor Hutchinson that, as theTwenty-Ninth Regiment had done the mischief, he was willing it shouldbe sent down the harbor to Fort William, and he would direct itsremoval.

  "The people," said Mr. Adams, "not only of this town, but of all thesurrounding towns, are determined that all the troops shall beremoved."

  "To attack the king's troops would be high treason, and every manconcerned would forfeit his life and estate," said Hutchinson.

  "The people demand their immediate withdrawal," Mr. Adams replied,bowing, and taking his departure.

  Cornhill, all the way from the Town House to the Old South, wascrowded with resolute and determined citizens, equipped with musketsand powder-horns. They saw Samuel Adams, loved and revered, descendthe steps of the Town House, followed by the other members of thecommittee.

  "Make way for the committee!" the cry.

  "Hurrah for Sam Adams!" the shout.

  They saw the man they loved lift his hat. They knew King Georgewanted him sent to England to be tried for treason; thatLieutenant-Governor Hutchinson was ready to aid in such a plan;but there he was, more determined than ever to maintain the rightsof the people.

  Tom worked his way into the meetinghouse and heard Mr. Adams say thelieutenant-governor's answer was unsatisfactory.

  "All the troops must go," shouted the citizens.

  Once more Mr. Adams and six of his fellow-citizens made their way tothe Town House. The lieutenant-governor and the council were assembledtogether with Colonel Dalrymple, Admiral Montague, and other officersin their scarlet uniforms. Robert edged his way into the building.

  "It is the unanimous opinion," said Mr. Adams, "that the reply of yourexcellency is unsatisfactory. Nothing will satisfy the people otherthan the immediate removal of all the troops."

  "The troops are not subject to my authority; I have no power to removethem," said Hutchinson.

  Robert saw Mr. Adams raise his right arm towards Hutchinson. His wordswere clear and distinct:--

  "Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, if you have power to remove oneregiment, you have power to remove both. It is at your peril if you donot. The meeting is composed of three thousand people. They areimpatient. One thousand men have arrived from the surrounding towns.The country is in motion. The people expect an immediate answer."

  A whiteness came into the face of the lieutenant-governor. His handsbegan to tremble. One hundred years before, the people in theirmajesty and might had put Edmund Andros in prison. Might they not dothe same with him?

  "What shall be done?" he asked of the council, with trembling lips.

  "It is not such people as injured your house who are asking youto remove the troops," said Councilman Tyler; "they are the bestpeople of the town, men of property, supporters of religion. It isimpossible, your excellency, for the troops to remain. If they donot go, ten thousand armed men will soon be here."

  "Men will soon be here from Essex and Middlesex," said CouncilmanBussell of Charlestown.

  "Yes, and from Worcester and Connecticut," said Mr. Dexter of Dedham.

  Every memb
er said the same, and advised their removal. ColonelDalrymple had consented that the regiment which began the disturbanceshould leave, but it would be very humiliating if all the troops wereto go. The instructions from the king had put the military as superiorto the civil authority.

  "I cannot consent, your excellency, voluntarily to remove all thetroops," said Dalrymple.

  "You have asked the advice of the council," said Councilman Gray toHutchinson; "it has been given; you are bound to conform to it."

  Robert felt it was a home-thrust that Councilman Gray gave, who saidfurther:--

  "If mischief shall come, your excellency, by means of your not doingwhat the council has advised, you alone must bear the blame. If thecommanding officer after that should refuse to remove the troops, theblame then will be at his door!"

  "I will do what the council has advised," said Hutchinson.

  "I shall obey the command of your excellency," said Dalrymple.

  The victory was won. "The lobsters have got to go," the shout thatwent up in the Old South, when Mr. Adams informed the people.

  Very galling it was to the king's troops to hear the drums of thecitizens beating, and to see armed men patrolling the streets, whilethey were packing their equipments. It was exasperating to be coopedup in Fort William, with no opportunity to roam the streets, insultthe people, drink toddy in the tap-rooms of the Tun and Bacchus andthe White Horse taverns. No longer could the lieutenants and ensignsquarter themselves upon the people and be waited upon by negroservants, or spend their evenings with young ladies. They who came tomaintain law and order had themselves become transgressors, and werebeing sent to what was little better than a prison, while CaptainPreston and the men who fired upon the unarmed citizens were in jailas murderers. It was a humiliating, exasperating reflection.