THE BIRTHDAY OF OUR NATION.
Bellman Grey and Blue-Eyed Boy were hurrying up Chestnut street; theman carried a large key, the boy a new broom.
It was a very warm morning in a very warm month of a very warm year;in fact it may as well be stated at once that it was the Fourth day ofJuly, 1776, and that Bellman Grey and Blue-Eyed Boy were in haste tomake ready the State House of Pennsylvania for the birth of the UnitedStates of America. No wonder they were in a hurry.
In fact, everybody seemed in a hurry that day; for before Bellman Greyhad whisked that new broom over the floor of Congress Hall, in walked,arm-in-arm, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Bellman Grey. "You'll find the dustsettled in the committee-room. I'm cleaning house a little extrato-day for the expected visitor."
"For the coming heir?" said Mr. Adams.
"When Liberty comes, She comes to stay," said Mr. Jefferson,half-suffocated with the dust; and the two retreated to thecommittee-room.
Blue-Eyed Boy was polishing with his silken duster the red morocco ofa chair as the gentlemen opened the door. He heard one of them say,"If Caesar Rodney gets here, it will be done."
"If it's done," said the boy, "won't you, please, Mr. Adams, won'tyou, please, Mr. Jefferson, let me carry the news to GeneralWashington?"
The two gentlemen looked either at the other, and both at the lad, insmiling wonder.
"If what is done?" asked Mr. Adams.
"If the thing is voted and signed and made sure," (just here Blue-EyedBoy waved his duster of a flag and stood himself as erect as aflagpole;) "if the tree's transplanted, if the ship gets off the ways,if we run clear away from King George, sir; so far away that he'llnever catch us."
"And why do you, my lad, wish to carry the news to General Washington?"asked Mr. Jefferson.
"Because," said the boy, "why--wouldn't you? It'll be jolly work forthe soldiers when they know they can fight for themselves."
Just here Bellman Grey shouted for Blue-Eyed Boy, bidding him comequick and be spry with his dusting, too.
Before the hall was cleared of the accumulated dust of State-roomsabove and Congress-rooms below, in came members of the Congress,one-by-one and two-by-two, and in groups. The doors were locked, andthe solemn deliberations began. Within that room, now known asIndependence Hall, sat, in solemn conclave, half a hundred men, eachand every one of whom knew full well that the deed about to be donewould endanger his own life.
On a table lay a paper, awaiting signatures. A silver ink-stand heldthe ink that trembled and wavered to the sound and stir of JohnAdams's voice, as he stated once more the why and the wherefore of thestep America was about to take.
This final statement was made for the especial enlightenment of threegentlemen, new members of the Congress from New Jersey, and in replyto the reasons given by Mr. Dickinson why the Declaration ofIndependence should _not_ be made.
In the meantime Bellman Grey was up in the steeple, "seeing what hecould see," and Blue-Eyed Boy was answering knocks at the entrancedoors; then running up the stairs to tell the scraps of news that hehad gleaned through open door, or crack, or key-hole.
The day wore on; outside a great and greater crowd surged every momentagainst the walls; but the walls of the State House were thick, andthe crowd was hushed to silence, with intense longing to hear what wasgoing on inside.
From his high-up place in the belfry, where he had been on watch,Bellman Grey espied a figure on horseback, hurrying toward the scene;the horse was white with heat and hurry; the rider's "face was nobigger than an apple," but it was a face of importance that day.
"Run!" shouted Bellman Grey from the belfry. "Run and tell them thatMr. Rodney comes."
The boy descended the staircase with a bound and a leap and a thumpagainst the door, and announced Caesar Rodney's approach.
In he came, weary with his eighty miles in the saddle, through heatand hunger and dust, for Delaware had sent her son in haste to thescene.
The door closed behind him and all was as still and solemn as before.
Up in the belfry the old man stroked fondly the tongue of the bell,and softly said under his breath again and again as the hours went:"They will never do it; they will never do it."
The boy sat on the lowest step of the staircase, alternately peepingthrough the key-hole with eye to see and with ear to hear. At last,came a stir within the room. He peeped again. He saw Mr. Hancock, withwhite and solemn face, bend over the paper on the table, stretch forthhis hand, and dip the pen in the ink. He watched that hand and armcurve the pen to and fro over the paper, and then he was away up thestairs like a cat.
Breathless with haste, he cried up the belfry: "_He's a doing it, heis!_ I saw him through the key-hole. Mr. Hancock has put his name tothat big paper on the table."
"Go back! go back! you young fool, and keep watch, and tell me quickwhen to ring!" cried down the voice of Bellman Grey, as he wiped forthe hundredth time the damp heat from his forehead and the dust fromthe iron tongue beside him.
Blue-Eyed Boy went back and peeped again just in time to see Mr.Samuel Adams in the chair, pen in hand.
One by one, in "solemn silence all," the members wrote their names,each one knowing full well, that unless the Colonists could fightlonger and stronger than Great Britain, that signature would prove hisown death-warrant.
It was fitting that the men who wrote their names that day shouldwrite with solemn deliberation.
Blue-Eyed Boy peeped again. "I hope they're almost done," he sighed;"and I reckon they are, for Mr. Rodney has the pen now. My! how tiredand hot his face looks! I don't believe he has had any more dinnerto-day than I have, and I feel most awful empty. It's almost night bythis time, too."
At length the long list was complete. Every man then present hadsigned the Declaration of Independence, except Mr. Dickinson ofPennsylvania.
And now came the moment wherein the news should begin its journeyaround the world. The Speaker, Mr. Thompson, arose and made theannouncement to the very men who already knew it.
Blue-Eyed Boy peeped with his ear and heard the words through thekey-hole.
With a shout and a cry of "Ring! ring!" and a clapping of hands, herushed upward to the belfry. The words, springing from his lips likearrows, sped their way into the ears and hands of Bellman Grey.Grasping the iron tongue of the old bell, backward and forward hehurled it a hundred times, its loud voice proclaiming to all thepeople that down in Independence Hall a new nation was born to theearth that day.
When the members heard its tones swinging out the joyous notes theymarvelled, because no one had authorized the announcement. When thekey was turned from within, and the door opened, there stood themystery facing them, in the person of Blue-Eyed Boy.
"I told him to ring; I heard the news!" he shouted, and opened theState House doors to let the Congress out and all the world in.
You know the rest; the acclamation of the multitude, the common peals(they forgot to be careful of powder that night in the staid oldcity), the big bonfires, and the illuminations that rang and roaredand boomed and burned from Delaware to Schuylkill.
In the waning light of the latest bonfire, up from the city of Penn,rode our Blue-Eyed Boy--true to his purpose to be the first to carrythe glad news to General Washington.
"It will be like meeting an old friend," he thought; for had he notseen the commander-in-chief every day going in and out of the CongressHall during his visit to Philadelphia only a month ago?
The self-appointed courier never deemed other evidence of the truth ofhis news needful than his own "word of mouth." He rode a strong younghorse, which, early in the year, had been left in his care by asouthern officer when on his way to the camp at Cambridge; and that noone might worry about him, he had taken the precaution to intrust hissecret to a neighbor lad to tell at the home-door in the light ofearly day.
The journey was long, too long to write of here. Suffice it to say,that on Sunday morning Blue-Eyed Boy reached the ferry at
the Hudsonriver. The old ferryman hesitated to cross with the lad.
"Wait at my house until the cool of the evening," he urged.
But Blue-Eyed Boy said, "No, I must cross this morning, and my pony:I'll pay for two if you'll take me."
The ferryman crossed the river with the boy, who, on the other side,inquired his way to the headquarters of the general.
Warm, tired, hungry, and dusty, he urged his pony forward to theplace, only to find that he whom he sought had gone to divine serviceat St. Paul's church.
Blue-Eyed Boy rode to St. Paul's. In the Fields (now City Hall Park)he tied his faithful horse, and went his way to the church.
Gently and with reverent mien, he entered the open door, and listenedto the closing words of the sermon. At length the service was over andthe congregation turned toward the entrance where stood the youngtraveler, his heart beating with exultant pride at the glorious newshe had to tell to the glorious commander.
How grand the General looked to the boy, as, with stately step, hetrod slowly the church aisle accompanied by his officers.
Now he was come to the vestibule. It was Blue-Eyed Boy's chance atlast. The great, dancing, gleeful eyes, that have outlived in fame thevery name of the lad, were fixed on Washington, as he stepped forwardto accost him.
"Out of the way!" exclaimed a guard, and thrust him aside.
"I _will_ speak! General Washington!" screamed Blue-Eyed Boy, insudden excitement. The idea of anybody who had seen, even through akey-hole, the signing of the Declaration of Independence, being thrustaside thus!
General Washington stayed his steps and ordered, "Let the lad come tome."
"I've good news for you," said the youth.
"What news?"
Officers stood around--even the congregation paused, having heard thecry.
"It's for you alone, General Washington."
The lad's eyes were ablaze now. All the light of Philadelphia's lateilluminations burned in them. General Washington bade the youth followhim.
"But my pony is tied yonder," said he, "and he's hungry and tired too.I can't leave him."
"Come hither, then," and the Commander-in-chief withdrew with the ladwithin the sacred edifice.
"General Washington," said Blue-Eyed Boy, "on Thursday Congressdeclared _us_ free and independent."
"Where are your dispatches?" leaped from the General's lips, his faceshining.
"Why--why, I haven't any, but it's all true, sir," faltered the boy.
"How did you find it out?"
"I was right there, sir. Don't you remember me? I help Bellman Greytake care of the State House at Philadelphia, and I run on errands forthe Congress folks, too, sometimes."
"Did Congress send you on this errand?"
"No, General Washington; I can't tell a lie, I came myself."
"How did you know me?"
Blue-Eyed Boy was ready to cry now. To be sure he was sturdy andstrong, and nearly fourteen, too; but to be doubted, after all hislong, tiresome journey, was hard. However, he winked once or twiceviolently, and then he looked his very soul into the General's face,and said: "Why, I saw you every day you went to Congress, only amonth ago, I did."
"I believe you, my lad. Get your horse and follow me."
Blue-Eyed Boy followed on, and waited in camp until the tardydespatches came in on Tuesday morning, confirming every word that hehad spoken.
The same evening all the brigades in and around New York were orderedto their respective parade-grounds.
Blue-Eyed Boy was admitted within the hollow square formed by thebrigades on the spot where stands the City Hall. Within the samesquare was General Washington, sitting on horseback, and the greatDeclaration was read by one of his aids.
It is needless to tell how it was received by the eager men wholistened to the mighty truths with reverent, uncovered heads.Henceforth every man felt that he had a banner under which to fight,as broad as the sky above him, as sheltering as the homely roof ofhome.
The Only Woman in the Town, and Other Tales of the American Revolution Page 6