Empire (29 page)

Hugh asked, “How can you know I will collect myself?”

Jack smiled sadly, let go of Hugh’s shoulder, and looked away. “I did…after I hanged my friends at Falmouth…. I collected myself before I did that. Before we were separated…before I was taken from the jail and put into that orphanage with bars, Skelly and Redmagne remarked that if they were going to be hanged — and they were certain they would be — they agreed to request that they be hanged together. That was how I knew what I must do…and I was not certain then that I had the courage to do it…. ” Jack seemed to be gazing at a time and place of long ago.

“Oh, Jack!” whispered Hugh. He stared at his friend, and sat in amazed wonder for the man who could be what he was, a man who some would claim was an accomplice in the murder of Augustus Skelly and Redmagne. Yet here he was, a man with the cleanest soul he had ever known. “Can you forgive me for having forgotten that…?”

Jack shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive, Hugh. That was my crisis. This is yours.” He smiled again, then reached inside his coat and took out a folded slip of paper. He handed it to Hugh. “Etáin wanted you to have this. She made me wait while she copied it out. Thinking she would be bored with the House’s business, she brought along one of the books you brought her from London. The works of Thomas Browne. She does not think much of what he writes, but she did find that.” He patted Hugh’s shoulder once more, then rose. “I was right to come here. I bid you goodnight. Your friends look forward to seeing you in the House tomorrow.”

Hugh smiled weakly. “Yes…. Mr. Henry has gone home.”

“That should not make a difference, even should Randolph and the others manage to gut his resolves.”

“Gut them they will try,” mused Hugh. He rose and saw Jack to the door, and shook his hand. “Thank you for coming…Jack,” he said. “It
has
made a difference…. ”

He waited until Jack’s footsteps faded away, then returned to the table and opened Etáin’s message. He smiled in gratitude as he read an excerpt from Browne’s essay, “The Heroic Mind”:

This was followed by Etáin’s signature. That was all.

T
hat same cloudy, rain-threatening evening, several older House members, and a trio of Council members, met in joyous desperation outside the gate of the Governor’s Palace before they presented themselves and their wives at the ball.

“Henry has left!”

“Thank God!”

“How careless of him!”

“What hubris!”

“Support for those resolutions must now collapse!”

“Well, not quite collapse, as be reduced in strength.”

“We must persuade those who are left to change their votes. Especially on the fifth resolution. And to agree to a modification of the language of the first four.”

“Yes…. But I understand that they have two more to introduce.”

“Let them be read, and even debated! If the House reverses itself on the fifth, those last two, which must be as seditious as the fifth, will fall with it!”

“Is there a precedent for the House changing its mind on resolutions it has already adopted? I cannot recollect.”

“On resolutions, I think not. But I am sure that something of the sort was done on a minor matter. We must conform to established practice. We must scour the journals for a precedent.”

“And if no precedent is to be found…?”

“Then we must make one, damn it all! We cannot allow those resolutions to go to Parliament and the Board of Trade as they stand!”

“Why the hugger-mugger over a hotchpotch of articles, sirs? I don’t see that their style can make a difference. Very likely, the Commons committee that receives them will consign them to unread oblivion, or use them to wrap engraved plate to present to His Majesty as a token of mutual comity.”

“Need I point out, sir, that these resolutions, in their present form, are just a rung or two short of…a declaration of independence from the Crown?”

“This is true, sir. We want to communicate a statement of legitimate grievance
and
natural kinship, not a…petition for divorce!”

“A
declaration of independence
, did you say? How rude a notion! We don’t want anyone to believe that
that
is what we are up to. God save us from the very idea! It is a notion to be discouraged at all costs. Why, recall what happened to the Netherlands when those provinces revolted against Spain and cocked their noses at Philip the Second! Their complaints were likewise legitimate, and the petition of redress the nobles presented was likewise ignored, and many of its signers executed. There are some lessons from history to be heeded here, sirs!”

“I do recall, sir. But the Netherlands won their independence.”

“After eighty years of misery and war and strife between brother and brother and the Spaniards, too. We should not mount our own hubris and presume that we would be exempt from such a phenomenon.”

“Well put, sir. But enough talk about what we all agree is a treasonous absurdity! Here is what must be done. Two or three of our party have also left for their homes, and three or four of Henry’s, as well. Before the bell tomorrow morning, we must invite a few of these remaining hot-heads to the committee room and sponge their brows with some cool advice…. ”

It was only when a strategy had been agreed on, and tasks assigned, that the group’s members breathed easier and allowed themselves to rejoin their wives and the company inside the Palace.

* * *

The Chevalier d’Annemours arrived early the next morning to ensure that he found a better place from which to observe the remarkable proceedings than he had had yesterday. He noticed a tall, red-headed youth pacing in the arcade that linked the two halves of the Capitol, and recalled him from the day before as the person who was subjected to the unprovoked outburst by the very substantial Attorney-General, Monsieur Randolph, who had also nearly bowled him off his feet and stepped on the toes of other gentlemen on his way out. The Chevalier approached the young man and introduced himself as Alphonse Croisset, commercial agent. The Frenchman had been very careful to maintain that deception throughout his sojourn in the colonies, for one slip of the tongue could get him into trouble with the English government, which, if it ever got wind of his true mission here, could have him locked up as a spy. And rightly so.

Croisset tried to strike up a friendly conversation with the youth about the House and the drama they had both witnessed the day before, but there was a faraway look in the lad’s eyes, and his replies were distracted and his queries merely courteous. He was helpful, though, and accompanied the inquisitive visitor into the chamber to explain some of the features and functions of the place. They found another person in there, however, sitting at the Clerk’s table. “Excuse me, sir,” said the youth, who then left the side of his companion, passed the railing, and walked up to the lone, richly dressed person.

This large, florid-faced person was Peter Randolph, Surveyor-General of the southern colonies and a member of the Council, and also a distant cousin of Thomas Jefferson. He was rapidly turning the pages of a bound, oversized tome that was one of the House journals. Jefferson greeted him, and inquired about his purpose.

Peter Randolph sighed. “Searching for a time when this House negatived its own determination, or at least changed its mind on some matter.”

“To what end, sir?”

Randolph shook his head. “To put a stop to some very disturbing business, Master Thomas.”

Jefferson frowned. “The resolves?”

Randolph nodded. “Only one. Perhaps others. We shall see.”

Jefferson did not reply. He stood looking over his cousin’s shoulder as the man pored though one tome, then another. The Surveyor-General did not stop his perusal until he noticed, with some embarrassment, that the public space was filling up with spectators, and that John Randolph and his clerks had arrived and were waiting to prepare the table for the day’s sitting. He put the last tome in its place beneath the table and, without a word to Jefferson or anyone else, rose and left the chamber.

With some chagrin, Jefferson saw that all the public benches were now occupied. He resigned himself to standing again at the lobby doors. As he passed the railing, he nodded once to the inquisitive Frenchman, whose name by now he had forgotten. The little man looked happy; he had a front-row seat.

William Ferguson retrieved his brass bell and went out to the courtyard, rang the bell, and returned with most of the burgesses in tow. There were now only thirty-four members left. When John Robinson took his seat in the Speaker’s chair, he rang it again to mark the beginning of the day.

Hugh Kenrick, seated above Henry’s other allies, Johnston, Fleming,
and Munford, had greeted Jack Frake and his party in the courtyard before leading them inside to procure seats. Nothing in Jack’s or Etáin’s manner reminded him of the terrible night before. After he had greeted them, he glanced around and asked, “Where is Mr. Barret?”

“He left for Caxton early this morning to begin setting his press to print the resolves,” said Jack.

“He believes he can get broadsides of them onto some vessels riding now at Caxton and Yorktown,” said John Ramshaw, “and into the hands of newspapers up and down the coast. I have asked him to set aside a few for me. The
Sparrowhawk
will be stopping at New York and Newport on our way back to England. We’ll weigh anchor in two days. And I know some men in the papers back home.”

“Mr. Barret is very proud of his country,” remarked Etáin.

John Proudlocks remained silent. He noticed the dark rings around Hugh’s eyes, and wondered what ordeal his friend had endured between their supper last night and this morning.

In the chamber now, Hugh observed with alarm the reduced number of members. After a brief conference with Munford, Johnston, and Fleming, he learned that three of their party had gone home, or were preparing to. He in turn advised the older men that when he came into the Capitol lobby with his friends, he saw several members of their party descending the stairs from the committee room above, their faces pale and closed. “They did not return my greeting, and went out to await the bell.”

“‘Beware of skullduggery,’ indeed,” sighed Johnston. “I believe the enemy has rallied and reformed to our disadvantage.”

“We shall fight on,” said Colonel Munford.

From his own seat on the second tier, Hugh sensed a new tension in the House. Among the spectators, it was caused by the absence of the man they had come to see and hear. The older members across the floor seemed imbued with a confidence that verged on smugness, while most of the members on Hugh’s side seemed less bold and less certain.

Speaker Robinson said, “It was stated yesterday that there are two more resolutions to be introduced and possibly added to the five adopted yesterday by this House. Let the House resolve itself into a Committee of the Whole, so that they may be introduced.”

Colonel Munford seconded the motion. As the golden mace was removed from atop the Clerk’s table, Robinson and Peyton Randolph switched seats. Fleming rose and was recognized by the Attorney-General.
The burgess for Cumberland addressed the House. “Sirs, my colleagues and I view these last resolves as logical and ineluctable extensions of the first five, and propose that they be adopted by this committee and by the House in the same spirit.”

“Proceed,” said Peyton Randolph, who stared with patient boredom into the space before him. His one word was spoken in an ominously dismissive tone, thought Hugh, as though he already knew the fate of the last two resolves. That one word convinced him that, no matter what was said here today, the last two resolves were doomed to rejection.

“Resolved,” said Fleming, “that His Majesty’s liege people, the inhabitants of this colony, are not bound to yield obedience to any law or ordinance whatever, designed to impose any taxation whatever upon them, other than the laws or ordinances of the General Assembly aforesaid.”

George Wythe narrowed his eyes in hostility. Richard Bland looked perplexed. John Robinson looked bored. The Attorney-General raised one eyebrow, and seemed to smile.

“Resolve the seventh,” said Fleming, “that any person who shall, by speaking or writing, assert or maintain that any person or persons, other than the General Assembly of this colony, have any right or power to impose or lay any taxation whatever on the people here — ” Fleming paused to clear his throat, for he seemed to be afraid to pronounce the next words “ — shall be deemed an enemy of His Majesty’s colony.” The burgess nodded once to Randolph, then sat down.

A very curious thing happened then: nothing. Hugh and the other members had been ready for a demonstration of outrage similar to that which greeted the fifth resolve yesterday. But, other than some expressions of restrained shock or distaste, none of the older members reacted during the reading or after it. Other than some whispered commentary among the spectators, the chamber was quiet.

Hugh was now convinced of two things: that the last two resolves were doomed, and that Randolph and his allies had foreknowledge of them. Nothing else could explain their odd, passive behavior. He glanced at some of the members he had seen descending the stairs to the lobby, but then remembered the only other member with whom had been shared the texts of all seven resolves: Edgar Cullis.

“What say anyone to these resolutions?” asked Peyton Randolph.

George Wythe rose to be recognized. For five minutes he fulminated against not only the new resolves, but the ones already adopted by the
House. “They are all treacherous and treasonous, and I propose that this committee — this House — redeem itself and save itself and this colony much sorrow by first rejecting these last two pugnacious resolutions, and then by withdrawing the first five.” Even his manner was out of character, noted Hugh. He sounded as though he was calmly prescribing an herb for a mosquito bite.

George Johnston rose to reply, and for the next two hours the House was locked in a debate more acrimonious than yesterday’s. Johnston began with, “This House may redeem itself, sir, by asserting the liberty that is threatened by the Stamp Act! If we do not make that effort, then
we
may be stained with the blots of treachery, treason, and cowardice!”

Richard Bland rose and proclaimed, “In regard to the sixth resolution, I must remind this body that we are obliged to obey Crown law until any injustices contained in any of its parts have been corrected! In that manner, we may preserve our liberty! That is not cowardice, sir, but the way of prudent wisdom!”

Colonel Munford rose and replied, “What is to move Parliament to rectify or correct those injustices, sir?” He remembered something of Henry’s speech from the day before. “Have you knowledge of a motion to be made in the Commons to restage, on the floor of that House, Mr. Addison’s
Cato
, so that the members there will be filled with remorse and shame, and rush to beg our pardon?”

Landon Carter rose and said, “The seventh resolve, by brazen implication, casts the authors of the Stamp Act in the role of enemies! That is so bold an affront that I would not blame Parliament or His Majesty for believing that this colony is governed by renegades and brigands!”

Hugh rose and replied, “If this His Majesty’s colony can be said to be a polity of liberty, then any man or body of men that threatens that liberty may be rightly cast as an enemy of this colony. And if His Majesty approves of such perfidy — and there on the Clerk’s table is proof of his endorsement! — then he joins the company of the true rebels and brigands, and that action blots his station…and we must look upon him as an enemy of his own dominion!”

One of the older burgesses rose and shook his fist at Hugh. In the manner of a dare, he shouted across the aisle, “Long live King George the Third!” His face was livid and he looked ready for a fight.

“Long live George the Third!” shouted another burgess. “Retract your treasonous words, sir!” demanded another member. All the older members
shot to their feet now, and hurled their loyalty at the men on the other side of the chamber. “Long live our gracious sovereign!” “Long may his empire bless our lives and fortunes!” “Long live George the Third!” “God save the king!”