Part 3 (1/2)
'They've been usin' ye bad, haven't they?'
He came nearer and looked at me more closely than before. I tapped on the door with my foot.
'This is my bed,' I said. 'The food is plain, to say the least.'
Looking at my face, he said, 'It must be.'
All the time he had been standing at the lower side of the mine, where the water was well up about his ankles. When I told him the rock was almost dry where I was, he came and stood beside me. There was a sincere, honest look in the fellow's homely face, and when he asked me how I came to be there, I told him my story without keeping anything back.
'What has been takin' place outside?' I asked, when I had finished.
'What has been takin' place outside,' he repeated in a voice that rose almost to a shriek. 'What hasn't been takin' place? Have ye not heard?'
I a.s.sured him that I had heard nothing since the day of the funerals at Lexington.
'The day I sowed my oats,' he exclaimed; 'the very day, I mind it well.
It was just after that they began scourin' the country. I lived three miles from here well back on my own small farm. Myself an' several of my neighbours had never taken any part in the disputes that were makin'
so much trouble in Boston. It didn't concern us. We were poor, with families to keep, an' had no time to bother findin' out whether the King was right or wrong. We were gettin' a livin', an' were happy.
The day o' the shootin', as well as the day o' the buryin', I went on with my farmin'.
'The time they come for me I was in my fiel' as usual. ”We've come from the committee,” they said. ”What committee?” says I. ”Oh,” one o' them broke in,--he was a Boston chap, not one o' our peaceable farmers,--”Oh,” says he, ”is that all ye know about the affairs o' yer country? We're authorised by the Committee of Safety to visit every man in this county, and tell him he must either fight or flee.”
'”Feth, a' I'll do neether,” I said, an' whipped up my horses.
'They went off, an' I seen no more o' them till this mornin', when they come again--an'--well, here I am.'
I had listened with a sort of greedy interest to every syllable. 'Were there many in your settlement who refused to take up arms?' I asked.
'Bout half o' us at first; but when they begun the burnin', the shearin' an' paintin' o' the cattle an' horses; the smas.h.i.+n' o'
windows, an' the threatenin' with tar and feathers, of course a number got frightened, an' said they'd fight.
'Then in our settlement the way they used old man Williams scared a lot. These men who said they'd been sent by the Committee o' Safety, seized the old man one night, fastened all the doors an' closed the chimney-top, and then smoked the ol' fellow so badly that it isn't known yet whether he'll live or die. My own daughter was pelted with rotten eggs--and by men, mind you, by men.'
His voice rose here almost to a scream, and I saw that great anger burned in his face.
'That's what's been goin' on all over this whole country for the last three weeks; an' that's not hearsay; I've seen it. It's cruel, it's wicked, it's persecution, an' how can it be any less wrong because it's done by the ”Sons o' Liberty,” as they call themselves? Fine liberty that tears a man away from his wife an' children, an' farm, an' lands him in a place like this.'
There was a note of bitter scorn in the closing words.
'These cruelties will make friends for the King, won't they?' I said.
'They will,' he said with emphasis; 'they've done that already.'
In answer to further questions I learned that my fellow prisoner's name was David Elton; that he had been a farmer all his life, and that his great hope was to return soon to his farm and family, which he claimed never needed him more than in this spring season of the year, when crops had to be put in. Of Boston and what was happening there he knew nothing, except that the siege was still going on.
We spent the night, both of us sleeping as best we could, on the door.
The next morning we were blindfolded and led away. After a half-hour's walk we found ourselves in the presence of one of the numerous Committees of Safety.
These had, I learned afterwards, been organised all over the country as soon as the mobs of the wilder sort, described by David Elton, had driven away the lawful magistrates and judges who had held their offices under the King. These committees were made up of the most bitter partisans, and yet they were supposed to take the place of the King's courts of justice. The committees were approved by the Provincial Congress, and given absolute power over all matters civil as well as military. Thus, during the first weeks of the war, did the control of the entire country pa.s.s into the hands of the King's enemies, who were not slow to avail themselves of the fruits of even mob violence. The advantage gained through these committees was immense, as by their proclamation all neutrals and opponents of the revolution were designated rebels and enemies of authority and their country.