CHAPTER I
I
It was a hot October day.
A torrid wave generated somewhere in the far west, and aided by theprevailing trade winds had swept relentlessly across the country,reaching the city at a most unusual time. It had not come unheralded,however, for the sun of yesterday had gone down a blazing red,illuminating the sky like rays from a mighty furnace, and tinging theevening landscape with the reddish and purplish hues of an Indiansummer. And what a blanket of humidity accompanied it! Like a cloak itsettled down upon the land, making breathing laborious and driving everyliving creature out of doors.
Jim Cadwalader and his wife sat on the lawn, if the patch of brown grassto the side of their little house could be termed a lawn, and awaitedthe close of the day. Three huge elms, motionless in the still sunshineand, like all motionless things, adding to the stillness, afforded acanopy against the burning rays of the sun. What mattered it that thecool shaded air was infested with mosquitoes and house-flies or that thecoarse grass was uneven and unkempt, from the low mounds which ran allover it or, from the profusion of leaves which had here and therefluttered down from the great trees. For it must be confessed thatneither Jim nor his wife had found the time for the proper care of thepremises, or if perchance, they had found the time the inclinationitself had been wanting.
"Sumthins got t' turn up in sum way 'r other b'fore long. I ain't seenthe sight o' work here in nigh two year."
"Guess you won't see it fur a while," responded the wife, from herstraight-backed chair, her arms folded, her body erect.
"Like as not a man 'd starve t' death in these here times, with nuthin't' do."
Jim sat with his elbows resting upon his yellow buckskin breeches, hisrough stubby fingers interlocked, his small fiery eyes piercing thedistance beyond the fields.
"If this business o' war was through with, things 'd git right agin."
"But it ain't goin' t' be over, let me tell you that."
They became silent.
Sad as was their plight, it was no sadder than the plight of many oftheir class. The horrors of a protracted war had visited with equalseverity the dwelling places of the rich and the poor. It was not aquestion of the provision of the sinews of war; tax had been enacted ofall classes alike. But it did seem as if the angel of poverty hadtarried the longer at the doorposts of the less opulent and had, inproportion to their indigence, inflicted the greater suffering andprivation. Figuratively speaking, this was the state of affairs withJim's house.
Everything that could stimulate, and everything that could gratify thepropensities of a middle-aged couple, the blessings of health, the dailyround of occupation, the joys of life and the hopes of at lengthobtaining possession of a little home, all these and the contentment ofliving, had at once been swept away from Jim Cadwalader and his wife bythe calamities of war. They had lived as many had lived who have nodifferent excuse to plead for their penury. The wages of their day'slabor had been their sole means of support, and when this source ofincome had vanished, nothing was left. In the low and dingy rooms whichthey called their home there were no articles of adornment and manynecessary for use were wanting. Sand sprinkled on the floor did duty asa carpet. There was no glass upon their table; no china on the cupboard;no prints on the wall. Matches were a treasure and coal was never seen.Over a fire of broken boxes and barrels, lighted with sparks from theflint, was cooked a rude meal to be served in pewter dishes. Fresh meatwas rarely tasted--at most but once a week, and then paid for at ahigher price than their scanty means could justly allow.
"The way things 're goin' a pair o' boots 'll soon cost a man 'most sixhundr' dollars. I heard a man say who 's good at figurin' out thesethings, that it now takes forty dollar bills t' make a dollar o' coin.We can't stand that much longer."
"Unless a great blow is struck soon," observed Nancy.
"But it won't be struck. Washington's watchin' Clinton from Morristown.The Americans are now on the offensive an' Clinton 's busy holdin' NewYork. The French 're here an' who knows but they may do somethin'. 'Twastoo bad they missed Howe's army when it left here."
"Were they here?"
"They were at the capes when the chase was over. Lord Howe's ships hadgone."
Again there was silence.
"I guess Washington can't do much without an army. He has only a handfulan' I heard that the volunteers won't stay. Three thousan' o' them leftt' other day. Can't win a war that way. If they'd only listen to Barrythey'd have a navy now, an' if they want to catch Clinton in New Yorkthey'll need a navy."
"Is the Captain home?"
"I saw him t' other day. He is goin' t' Boston t' command the _Raleigh_,a thirty-two gunner. But one's no good. He needs a fleet."
"Thank God! The French have come. Peace is here now."
"It's money we need more'n soldiers. We can git an army right here if wecould only pay 'em. No one 'll fight fur nuthin'. They're starvin' asmuch as us."
The fact that the hopes of this American couple had suffered a partialcollapse, must be attributed rather to the internal state of affairsthan to the military situation. While it is true that no great militaryobjective had been gained as a result of the three years of fighting,yet the odds at the present moment were decidedly on the American side.Still the country was without anything fit to be called a generalgovernment. The Articles of Confederation, which were intended toestablish a league of friendship between the thirteen states, had notyet been adopted. The Continental Congress, continuing to decline inreputation and capacity, provoked a feeling of utter weariness andintense depression. The energies and resources of the people werewithout organization.
Resources they had. There was also a vigorous and an animated spirit ofpatriotism, but there were no means of concentrating and utilizingthese assets. It was the general administrative paralysis rather thanany real poverty that tried the souls of the colonists. They heartilyapproved of the war; Washington now held a higher place in their heartsthan he had ever held before; peace seemed a certainty the longer thewar endured. But they were weary of the struggle and handicapped by theinternal condition of affairs.
Jim and his wife typified the members of the poorer class, the classupon whom the war had descended with all its horror and cruelty anddesolation. Whatever scanty possessions they had, cows, corn, wheat orflour, had been seized by the foraging parties of the opposing forces,while their horse and wagon had been impressed into the service of theBritish, at the time of the evacuation of the city, to cart away thestores and provisions. A means of occupation had been denied Jim duringthe period of stagnation and what mere existence could now be eked outdepended solely in the tillage of the land upon which he dwelled.Nevertheless the Cadwaladers maintained their outward cheer and apparentoptimism throughout it all but still they yearned inwardly for the daywhen strife would be no more.
"I can't see as t' how we're goin' to git off eny better when this herewhole thin's over. We're fightin' fur independence, but the peopul don'twant to change their guver'ment; Washington 'll be king when this isover."
Jim was ruminating aloud, stripping with his thumb nail the bark from asmall branch which he had picked from the ground.
"'Twas the Quebec Act th' done it. It was supposed to reestablish Poperyin Canada, and did by right. But th' Americans, and mostly those in NewEngland who are the worst kind of Dissenters and Whigs got skeeredbecause they thought the Church o' England or the Church o' Rome 'd bethe next thing established in the Colonies. That's what brought on thewar."
"We all don't believe that. Some do; but I don't."
"You don't?" he asked, without lifting his eyes to look at her. "Wellyou kin. Wasn't the first thing they did up in New England to rush t'Canada t' capture the country or else t' form an alliance with it? Anddidn't our own Arnold try t' git revenge on it fur not sidin' in withhim by plunderin' th' homes of th' peopul up there and sendin' the goodsback to Ticonderoga?"
She made no reply, but continued to peer into the distance.
"And
didn't our Congress send a petition to King George t' have 'mrepeal the limits o' Quebec and to the peopul t' tell 'm the EnglishGuver'ment 'is not authorized to establish a religion fraught withsanguary 'r impius tenets'? I know 'cause I read it."
"It makes no diff'rence now. It's over."
"Well it shows the kind o' peopul here. They're so afreed o' the Pope."
She waved her hand in a manner of greeting.
"Who's that?" asked Jim.
"Marjorie."
He turned sideways looking over his shoulder.
Then he stood up.
II
That there was more than a grain of truth in the assertion of JimCadwalader that the war for Independence had, like the great rivers ofthe country, many sources, cannot be gainsaid. There were oppressive taxlaws as well as restrictions on popular rights. There were odiousnavigation acts together with a host of iniquitous, tyrannical measureswhich were destined to arouse the ire of any people however loyal. Butthere were religious prejudices which were likewise a moving cause ofthe revolt, a moving force upon the minds of the people at large. Andthese were utilized and systematized most effectively by the activemalcontents and leaders of the strife.
The vast majority of the population of the Colonies were Dissenters,subjects of the crown who disagreed with it in matters of religiousbelief and who had emigrated thither to secure a haven where they mightworship their God according to the dictates of their own consciencerather than at the dictates of a body politic. The Puritans had soughtrefuge in Massachusetts and Connecticut where the white spires of theirmeeting houses, projecting above the angles of the New England hills,became indicative of Congregationalism. Roger Williams and the Baptistsfound a harbor in Rhode Island. William Penn brought the Quaker colonyto Pennsylvania. Captain Thomas Webb lent active measures to theestablishment of Methodism in New York and in Maryland, while the colonyof Virginia afforded protection to the adherents of the EstablishedChurch. The country was in the main Protestant, save for the vestiges ofCatholicity left by the Franciscan and Jesuit Missionary Fathers, whopenetrated the boundless wastes in an heroic endeavor to plant the seedsof their faith in the rich and fertile soil of the new and unexploredcontinent.
Consequently with the passage of the Quebec Act in 1774 a wave ofindignation and passionate apprehension swept the country from theAmerican Patriots of Boston to the English settlements on the west. Thatlarge and influential members of the Protestant religion were beingassailed and threatened with oppression and that the fear of Popery,recently reestablished in Canada, became an incentive for armedresistance, proved to be motives of great concern. They even remindedKing George of these calamities and emphatically declared themselvesProtestants, faithful to the principles of 1688, faithful to the idealsof the "Glorious Revolution" against James II, faithful to the House ofHanover, then seated on the throne.
"Can a free government possibly exist with the Roman Catholic Church?"asked John Adams of Thomas Jefferson. This simple question embodied inconcrete form the apprehensions of the country at large, whoseinhabitants had now become firmly convinced that King George, ingranting the Quebec Bill, had become a traitor, had broken hiscoronation oath, was a Papist at heart, and was scheming to submit thiscountry to the unconstitutional power of the English monarch. It was notso much a contest between peoples as a conflict of principles, politicaland religious, the latter of which contributed the active force thatbrought on the revolt and gave it power.
III
Strange to relate, there came a decided reversal of position after theformation of the French Alliance. No longer was the Catholic religionsimply tolerated; it was openly professed, and, owing in a great measureto the unwearied labors of the Dominican and Franciscan friars, made theutmost progress among all ranks of people. The fault of the Catholicpopulation was anything but disloyalty, it was found, and their mannerof life, their absolute sincerity in their religious convictions, theirgenerous and altruistic interest in matters of concern to the publicgood, proved irrefutable arguments against the calumnies andvilifications of earlier days. The Constitutions adopted by the severalstates and the laws passed to regulate the new governments show that theprinciples of religious freedom and equality had made progress duringthe war and were to be incorporated as vital factors in the shaping ofthe destinies of the new nation.
The supreme importance of the French Alliance at this juncture cannot beoverestimated. Coming, as it did, at a time when the depression of thepeople had reached the lowest ebb, when the remnant of the army of theAmericans was enduring the severities of the winter season at ValleyForge, when the enemy was in possession of the fairest part of thecountry together with the two most important cities, when Congress couldnot pay its bills, nor meet the national debt which alone exceeded fortymillion dollars,--when the medium of exchange would not circulatebecause of its worthlessness, when private debts could not be collectedand when credit was generally prostrated, the Alliance proved a benefitof incalculable value to the struggling nation, not only in theenormous resources which it supplied to the army but in the generalmorale of the people which it made buoyant.
The capture of Burgoyne and the announcement that Lord North was aboutto bring in conciliatory measures furnished convincing proof to Francethat the American Alliance was worth having. A treaty was drawn up byvirtue of which the Americans solemnly agreed, in consideration of armedsupport to be furnished by France, never to entertain proposals of peacewith Great Britain until their independence should be acknowledged, andnever to conclude a treaty of peace except with the concurrence of theirnew ally.
Large sums of money were at once furnished the American Congress. Astrong force of trained soldiers was sent to act under Washington'scommand. A powerful fleet was soon to set sail for American waters andthe French forces at home were directed to cripple the military power ofEngland and to lock up and neutralize much British energy which wouldotherwise be directed against the Americans. Small wonder that a new erabegan to dawn for the Colonists!
When we remember the anti-Catholic spirit of the first years of theRevolution and consider the freedom of action which came to theCatholics as a consequence of the French Alliance, another and astriking phase of its influence is revealed. The Catholic priestshitherto seen in the colonies had been barely tolerated in the limiteddistricts where they labored. Now came Catholic chaplains of foreignembassies; army and navy chaplains celebrating mass with pomp on themen-of-war and in the camps and cities. The French chaplains werebrought in contact with all classes of the people in all parts of thecountry and the masses said in the French lines were attended by manywho had never before witnessed a Catholic ceremony. Even Rhode Island,with a French fleet in her waters, blotted from her statute-book a lawagainst Catholics.
IV
"What have we here, Marjorie?" asked Jim as he walked part of the way tomeet her.
"Just a few ribs of pork. I thought that you might like them."
She gave Jim the basket and walked over to Mrs. Cadwalader and kissedher.
"Heaven bless you, Marjorie," exclaimed Nancy as she took hold of thegirl's hands and held them.
"Oh, thank you! But it is nothing, I assure you."
"You kin bet it is," announced Jim as he removed from the basket a longside of pork. "Look 't that, Nancy." And he held it up for herobservation.
Marjorie had been accustomed to render some relief to Jim and his wifesince the time when reverses had first visited them. Her good nature, aswell as her consideration of the long friendship which had existedbetween the two families, had prompted her to this service. Jim wouldnever be in want through any fault of hers, yet she was discreet enoughnever to proffer any avowed financial assistance. The mode she employedwas that of an occasional visit in which she never failed to bring somechoice morsel for the table.
"How's the dad?" asked Jim.
"Extremely well, thank you. He has been talking all day on the failureof the French to take Newport."
"What's that?" asked Jim, thoroughly
excited. "Has there been news intown?"
"Haven't you heard? The fleet made an attack."
"Where? What about it?"
"They tried to enter New York to destroy the British, but it was found,I think, that they were too large for the harbor. So they sailed toNewport to attack the garrison there."
"Yeh?"
"General Sullivan operated on the land, and the French troops were aboutto disembark to assist him. But then Lord Howe arrived with his fleetand Count d'Estaing straightway put out to sea to engage him."
"And thrashed 'm----"
"No," replied Marjorie. "A great storm came up and each had to savehimself. From the reports Father gave, General Sullivan has been leftalone on the island and may be fortunate if he is enabled to withdraw insafety."
"What ails that Count!" exclaimed Jim thoroughly aroused. "I don't thinkhe's much good."
"Now don't git excited," interrupted Nancy. "That's you all th' time.Just wait a bit."
"Just when we want 'im he leaves us. That's no good."
"Any more news, girl?"
"No. Everything is quiet except for the news we received about theregiment of Catholic volunteers that is being recruited in New York."
"In New York? Clinton is there."
"I know it. This is a British regiment."
"I see. Tryin' t' imitate 'The Congress' Own?"
"So it seems."
"And do they think they will git many Cath'lics, or that there 'reenough o' them here?"
"I do not know," answered Marjorie. "But some handbills have appearedin the city which came from New York."
"And they want the Cath'lics? What pay are they goin' t' give?"
"Four pounds."
"That's a lot o' money nowadays."
"That is all I know about it. I can't think what success they will have.We are sure of some loyalists, however."
"I guess I'll hev to git down town t' see what's goin' on. Things werequiet fur so long that I stayed pretty well t' home here. What does yurfather think?"
"He is angry, of course. But he has said little."
"I never saw anything like it. What'll come next?"
He folded his arms and crossed his knee.
An hour later she stood at the gate taking her leave of Jim and Nancy atthe termination of a short but pleasant visit.
"Keep a stout heart," she was saying to Jim, "for better days arecoming."
"I know 't, girl. Washington won't fail."
"He is coming here shortly."
"To Philadelphia?" asked Nancy.
"Yes. So he instructed Captain Meagher."
"I hope he removes Arnold."
"Hardly. He is a sincere friend to him. He wishes to see Congress."
"Has he been summon'd?"
"No! Captain Meagher intimated to me that a letter had been sent to HisExcellency from the former chaplain of Congress, the Rev. Mr. Duche,complaining that the most respectable characters had withdrawn and werebeing succeeded by a great majority of illiberal and violent men. Hecited the fact that Maryland had sent the Catholic Charles Carroll ofCarrollton instead of the Protestant Tilghman."
"Who is this Duche?"
"I do not know. But he has since fled to the British. He warmlycounseled the abandonment of Independence."
"If that's his style, he's no good. Will we see the Gin'ral?"
"Perhaps. Then again he may come and go secretly."
"God help the man," breathed Nancy.