CHAPTER VII
I
The hall was very ordinary within. Small in proportion to its great highceiling, bleak in its white-washed walls and scantily covered floor,oppressive from its damp, stifling air and poor ventilation, it gaveevery indication of the state of disuse into which it had fallen. It wasno more than an anteroom to the vestry of the church, though quitedetached from it, yet one could almost feel through the stout south wallthe impenetrable weight of darkness which had settled down within thegreat building beyond. The gloomy shadows had penetrated here, too, foralthough the antechamber contained a half dozen windows, they wereshuttered and barred against every hue of twilight from the outside. Thevery atmosphere was indicative of the sinister nature of the business athand.
To the front of the room a small platform stood surmounted by a table,surrounded by chairs. Several men occupied these, interested in aconversation, somewhat subdued in its tone and manner. The chairs,settees, and benches throughout the rest of the room, were being filledby the so-called volunteers, who entered and took their places with anair of wonder and indecision. Already two-thirds of the seats weretaken, and every face turned and re-turned to the door at everyfootfall.
The small door to the side was, of course, barred; but, in response tothe slightest knock, it was opened by an attendant, assigned for thatpurpose. Names were asked and the cards of admission were collected witha certain formality before the aspirant gained admittance. There was nointroduction, no hurry, no excitement.
"What's your name?" the man at the door was heard to say to one whoalready had tapped for admittance.
"Cadwalader," was the reply. "James Cadwalader."
"Got your card?"
There was no response, only the production of a small white card.
A strong, athletic individual, clad in a checked shirt and a red flanneljacket, a leathern apron, and a pair of yellow buckskin breeches,entered and stood for a moment looking about the hall. His eyes fellupon the group gathered around the table at the forward end of the room.Two of them he recognized, Colonel Clifton and John Anderson, the latterwith his back to the audience. There were many familiar faces in thechairs throughout the room, some of whom had expected him, andaccordingly gave him a slight recognition. Slowly, and in a manifestlyindifferent manner, he made his way to the front of the chairs where heseated himself, and listened sharply to the little group conversing uponthe platform until he had satisfied himself that there was nothing ofimportance under discussion.
The room was filling rapidly. It was one of those mixed assemblieswherein one could discern many states of mind written upon the faces ofthose present. Some wore the appearance of contentment and composure;some laughed and talked in a purely disinterested and indifferentmanner; others looked the picture of unrest and dissatisfaction, andwore a scowl of disappointment and defeat. These latter Stephenrecognized at once and hurriedly made an estimate of their number.Together with the neutral representation he seemed satisfied with themajority.
The most remarkable feature of all was the silence. Not a voice wasraised above a whisper. The man at the door at the side of the hall, thelittle group away to the front of the hall, peeping at the audience andtalking in subdued tones, the people in the chairs, those at the back ofthe hall,--all seemed to hold their tongues to a whisper for interestand a kind of fear. Drama was in the air.
The guard at the door advanced to the front of the hall to announce toMr. Anderson that the full quota was present. Whereupon the latter arosefrom his chair and swept with his gaze the entire room, which the dimlight of the torches only partly revealed. Satisfied with his scrutiny,he turned and again conferred with his associates who nodded their headsin acceptance of his suggestion. They sat back in their chairs while hecame to the center of the platform and awaited the cessation of the humwhich was now becoming audible.
"Let me begin by taking further assurance of your number," he said, "forwhich purpose I shall call the roll of names to which I respectfully askyou to respond."
Then followed the reading of the roll-call to which each man at themention of his name signified his presence in the room. Stephen's heartfluttered as he replied boldly to the name of "James Cadwalader."
There were eight names to which no reply was given. These very likelywould come later, or perhaps they had reconsidered their action and haddecided not to come at all. Those present numbered eighty-six, Stephenlearned from the count.
"I shall take this opportunity of distributing among you the papers ofenlistment that you may read the terms of agreement, and these I shallask you to sign at the close of this meeting."
As Anderson finished this sentence, he passed to several aids, a bundleof papers which they promptly dealt out to the members of the proposedcompany.
Then Mr. Anderson began.
II
"You have assembled this evening, my dear friends and co-religionists,to translate into definite action the convictions by which you have beenimpelled to undertake this important business. Our presence means thatwe are ready to put into deeds the inspirations which have alwaysdominated our minds. It means that we are about to make a final thrustfor our religious convictions, and to prove that we are worthydescendants of the men who established in this land freedom of religiousworship, and bequeathed it to us as a priceless heritage."
This Anderson is a clever fellow, thought Stephen, and a fluent talker.Already his eloquence had brought quiet to the room and caused those whowere fumbling with the papers to let them fall motionless in their laps.But what a knave! Here he was deliberately playing upon the sympathiesof his audience in the role of a Catholic.
"We have signified our intention of taking this momentous step, becausewe are of the undivided opinion that our rights have been attained. Wehave accomplished our purpose and we have now no cause for martialstrife. No longer do grounds of contention between us and the mothercountry exist. Our bill of rights has been read abroad and honored, andovertures of conciliation have already been made. The object for whichwe linked our forces with the rebel standard, the happiness, the supremehappiness of our country, has been gained. We no longer desire openwarfare.
"The idea of an American Parliament, with its members of American birth,is a welcome one. It is a fitting, a worthy ambition. We are confidentthat we are capable, at this juncture, of enacting our own laws and ofgiving them the proper sanction. We are capable of raising our owntaxes. We are worthy of conducting our own commerce in every part of thecivilized globe as free citizens of the British Empire. And we areconvinced that we should enjoy for this purpose the blessings of goodgovernment, not necessarily self-government, and that we should besustained by all the power requisite to uphold it, as befits free andindependent children bonded together in a concert of purpose.
"This we desire. But we seek also that freedom in matters of religiousworship without which no nation can attain to any degree of greatness.Under a government conducted solely and independently by the colonistswe know that such a consummation would be impossible. I need not remindyou of the deplorable state of affairs which obtained previous to theopening of hostilities. I need not recall to your minds theanti-Catholic declarations of the Continental Congresses. I need notrecall to you the machinations of John Jay, or the manifest antipathy ofthe Adamses, or the Hamiltons, or the Paines. I need not recall to youhow the vaunted defenders of American liberties and freedom expressedtheir supreme detestation of Catholics and all things Catholic, and howthey were determined that the nightmare of Popery would never hold swayover these free and independent colonies as it does even now in Canada.I need not recall how the colonies, with the sole exception of thiscolony of Pennsylvania, debarred the free and legitimate exercise ofyour religion within their bounds, and restricted its public ceremonies;how you were restricted by oaths required by law, even here inPennsylvania, which you could not take had you been so successful as tobe chosen to office. I need not remind you of these truths. You alreadyknow them. It would be idle to repeat them."
"We have been displeased with the conduct of the war, immeasurably so.And we have lost all faith in the good will of our fellow-colonists, inmatters religious as well as in matters political. They have refused totreat with the ministers of conciliation. We are about to join ourforces to those of the mother country in order that we may render ourown poverty-stricken land an everlasting service. We are destined totake our places among a band of true and genuine patriots, who have,above all things else, the welfare of their own land at heart, and weare about to commit ourselves to this course, together with ourfortunes and our lives. Since our people are blinded by the avarice andthe prejudice of their leaders, we shall take into our own hands thedecision and the fortunes of this war, trusting that our cause may beheard at the bar of history when strict judgment shall be meted out. Wehave broken with our people in the hope that the dawn of better days maybreak through the clouds that now overshadow us."
He paused, for a moment to study the temper of his audience. There wasno sound, and so he continued.
"It is the glory of the British soldier that he is the defender, not thedestroyer, of the civil and the religious rights of the people. Witnessthe tolerant care of your mother country in the bestowal of religiousliberties to the inhabitants of our once oppressed neighbor, Canada. TheQuebec Act was the greatest concession ever granted in the history ofthe British Parliament, and it secured for the Canadians the freedom ofthat worship so dear and so precious to them. So great was the tolerancegranted to the Catholics of the North, that your fellow-colonists flewto arms lest a similar concession be made here. It was the last strawthat broke the bonds of unity. For, henceforth, it was decreed that onlya complete and independent separation from the British Parliament couldsecure to the people the practice of the Protestant faith.
"Now we come to the real purpose of this organization. We are about topledge ourselves to the restoration of our faith through the ultimatetriumph of the British arms. Nobody outside of America believes that shecan ever make good her claims of independence. No one has ever takenseriously her attempt at self-government. France, alone, actuated bythat ancient hatred for England, inspired by the lust of conquest andthe greed of spoliation, has sent her ships to our aid. But has shefurnished the Colonies with a superior force of arms? Has she renderedherself liable for any indebtedness? Your mother country alone has madethis benign offer to you, and it is to her alone that you can look andbe assured of any reconciliation and peace.
"Victory, once assured, will establish peace and everlasting happiness.Victory, now made possible only by the force of arms, will assure ustoleration in religious matters. And why not? This fratricidal strifeshould not occasion any personal hatred. England is not our foe, but ourmother in arms against whom we have conceived an unjust grievance. Letus lay aside our guns for the olive. Since our fellow-citizens will notaccept just terms of conciliation let us compel them to do so by thestrength of our arms.
"Tomorrow we embark for New York at the place of landing indicated onthe papers of enlistment. There we shall be incorporated into a regimentof a thousand men. The recruiting there has met with unlooked-forsuccess. Colonel Clifton reports that the ranks already are filled. Youradmission alone is required, and the ship, which will bear you down thewaters of the Susquehanna tomorrow, will carry a message of cheer tothem who have already entrusted themselves, their destinies, their allto the realization of our common hope.
"You will now take the oath of allegiance to the government of HisMajesty, which I shall administer to you in a body. Tomorrow at the hourof eight I shall meet you at the pier of embarkation. I shall be glad toaccompany you to reveal to you my interest in your behalf. Only with aunited front can we hope for success and to this purpose we havededicated our lives and our fortunes. I shall ask you to rise to a man,with your right arm upraised, to take the oath of allegiance to yourking."
III
The spell that held them broke, and the bustle began. A mumble filledthe room, followed by moments of animated discussion. Neighbor spoke toneighbor in terms of approval or plied him with questions menacing andentreating. Anderson maintained his composure to allow them to settleagain into a period of quietude before the administration of the oath.At length Stephen arose as if to question, and was given permission tospeak by the chairman, Mr. Anderson.
"What immunity does His Majesty's Government guarantee to us after thewar?"
"The usual guarantee will of course be made," Anderson replied.
"Does that mean that we shall be reestablished in the good-will of ourfellow-citizens?" Stephen again inquired.
"Unquestionably. When the colonists see the immense benefits which theyhave acquired, they will readily condone all wrongs."
Intense interest was already manifest throughout the room. Faces wereeagerly bent forward lest a word be lost.
"Such considerations, however, are irrelevant to our purpose," dismissedAnderson with a wave of the hand.
"But it is of vital consequence to us. We must return to our people tolive with them, and we cannot live in an atmosphere of hatred. Whoknows that our lives may not be placed in jeopardy! My question dealswith this. Will any provision be made against such a contingency?"
"It is too early to discuss the final settlement, but you have myassurance that suitable protection will be given."
"Your assurance?" repeated Stephen. "What amount of assurance may youoffer to us, you who admittedly are one of ourselves?"
"I consider that an impertinent question, sir, and in no way connectedwith the business before us."
"It is of vital concern to us, I should say; and I for one am desirousof knowing more about this affair before yielding my consent."
"You have signed your papers of enlistment already, I believe. There isno further course then for you to pursue."
There was a rustle among the seats. Some had begun to realize theirfate; some had realized it from the start but were powerless to preventit. Two or three faces turned a shade paler, and they became profoundlysilent. The others, too, held their tongues to await the result of thecontroversy. For here was a matter of vital concern to all. Up to nowvery few deserters, especially among the Catholics, had been discoveredamong the American forces. They had heard of an individual or twosurrendering himself to the enemy, or of whole families going over tothe other side in order to retain their possessions and lands. But amutiny was another matter altogether. What if they failed and theColonists gained their independence!
"I suppose we are powerless," admitted Stephen in a low tone of voiceas he watched the effect of his words on the gathering. "We areconfronted," he continued, "with the dilemma of estrangement no matterwhat side gains."
"England can't lose," interrupted Colonel Clifton, who heretofore hadbeen seated, an attentive observer. "And with victory comes theestablishment of the will of the conqueror. Care will be taken thatthere shall be adequate reparation."
"Very good!" answered Stephen. "Now together with that privilege ofimmunity, can we be assured of the extension of the Quebec Act? HasEngland so decreed?"
"Not yet," Anderson admitted, "but that extension, or one equal to it,will be made one of the conditions of peace."
"We are sure of that, then?"
"Well, we are not sure, but it is only logical to infer such acondescension will be made."
"I don't agree with you, I am sorry to say, for the English Parliamentmay be of another mind when peace and victory have been established."
"You are interrupting the meeting. Please let us continue with ourbusiness," Anderson sharply reproved him.
"I speak for my fellow-citizens here," said Stephen as he turned towardthem with an appealing gesture, "and I maintain that it is our privilegeto know certain matters before we transfer our allegiance."
It was now plain to the company that Anderson was worried. His whitethin lips were
firmly compressed as the wrath in his heart blazed withinhim. He was aghast at the blow. It had come from a quarter whollyunexpected. That this fellow in these shabby clothes should be giftedwith a freedom of speech such as to confound him when he thought hisplans realized to the letter, was astounding. Why, he might sway theminds of the entire assembly! Better to silence him at once, or betterstill banish him from the hall than to cope with the possibility oflosing the entire multitude.
"You have interrupted this meeting more than I care to have you, sir. Ifyou will kindly allow me to proceed with the business before the house Ishall consider it a favor."
"I ask my fellow-citizens here," shouted Stephen by way of reply, "ifyou or any man possesses the right to deprive us of free speech,especially at a time as momentous as this. I ask you, my friends, if Imay continue?"
"Yes!... Go on!... We will hear you!..." were the several acclamationsfrom the throng.
Anderson heard it with perceptible confusion. He fumbled nervously withhis fingers, wholly ignorant of what to say.
"Let me ask, then," said Stephen, "if the idea of independence is whollyexclusive of religious toleration. Why are we, a mere handful of men,about to pledge ourselves to the accomplishment by force of arms whatalready is accomplished in our very midst? Freedom of religious worshipis already assured. The several actions of the colonial governing bodieslend us that assurance. England can do no more for us than already hasbeen done; and what has been done by the Colonies will be guaranteed bythe elective body of the people in the days of independence. I amfearful of the hazards that will accompany this enlistment. Give meleave to address you on this topic that you may understand my troubledstate of mind. I appeal to you. Give me leave to talk."
Whether it was the spontaneous sound issuing from the ranks of thosealready initiated into the secret, or whether a chord already attuned inthe hearts and minds of the entire assembly, had been marvelously struckby him, there was a reverberation of approval throughout the room inanswer to Stephen's plea. So unanimous was the demonstration thatAnderson took alarm. The air of democracy was revealing itself in theirinstinctive enthusiasm. And while nothing might result from Stephen'srambling remarks, still it would afford them consolation that their sideof the question had been aired. To a man they voiced their approval ofthe privilege which had been begged.
"Aye!... Speech!... Take the floor!"
The Loyalist Page 16