“He has called a special meeting at the Long Room.” Edes said “I was just now on my way there.”
“Would it be possible for my friends to come, as well’?” asked Hunter. “Or would that be an imposition?”
If they are patriots, sir, and you vouch for their discretion, then they are indeed welcome. And I am sure our friends would want to know how things are going in New York. Come. I will take you there.”
They went down Treamount Street, then turned into Dock Square. From there, they took Ann Street for a block or two until it became Fish street. The same streets in Boston often had different names from block to block; the better to enable citizens to orient themselves since there was, as yet, no organized system of house numbering. Fish Street became Ship Street after a few blocks, running close by Clark’s Shipyard. They passed The Castle and The Mitre taverns and turned into the Salutation, a tavern on the corner of Salutation Alley and Ship Street whose devotees were fervent Whigs. It was not a fashionable tavern, catering mostly to the North End shipwrights, caulkers, and mast-makers, but its sign depicted two gentlemen bowing to each other, which resulted in the tavern being nicknamed “The Two Palaverers.” It was not as rowdy or notorious a tavern as ‘Ole Bunch of Grapes, but it was here where the North Caucus met in its private room.
Sam Adams belonged to all three of Boston’s caucuses, the North, the Middle, and the South. It was Deacon Adams who had first organized these clubs, the word having grown from “caulker’s club.” since the majority of the original members were all in the shipbuilding trade. Here, in the smoke-filled private chamber known as the Long Room, much of the business of the Boston Assembly was actually conducted around a bowl of punch, with a roaring fire in the hearth. There were some sixty members in the North Caucus, but today, the group that gathered here were the members of the original Loyal Nine and the leaders of the Sons of Liberty.
There was Sam Adams’ young cousin John from Braintree, plump, boyish-looking, and quick to speak. Hunter pointed out Dr. Joseph Warren and Dr. Benjamin Church; William Molineaux, the hardware merchant; Bill Campbell, the owner of the tavern; John Pulling, whose fame was to be eclipsed by Paul Revere’s., though it was he who would hang the lanterns in the Christ’s Church steeple to give Revere the signal that the British troops were coming; the gargantuan silversmith. Benjamin Burt, who weighed almost four hundred pounds and required the room of two men at the table; James “Jemmy” Otis. the flamboyant orator whose reason was slowly slipping away, rendering him unpredictable and temperamental, given to frequent emotional outbursts that often made no sense at all; young Josiah Quincy; the Cooper brothers, Samuel, the pastor of the Brattle Street Church, and William, the town clerk; Thomas Dawes: John Winslow and Thomas Melville, still only in his teens and fresh from Harvard, whose grandson Herman would one day write the immortal epic Moby Dick. The silversmith, Paul Revere, was also in attendance, stocky, square-faced, with his brown hair unpowdered, and his simple homespun looking shabby next to the slender Hancock’s tailored finery. And. of course, there was Sam Adams, portly and rumpled, looking like someone’s absentminded uncle, yet the real power behind the coming revolution. He called the meeting to order.
“Gentlemen, your indulgence, please,” he said, rapping on the table with his knuckles. The room grew silent. Adams looked around. “I see that most of us are here. However, I note a few unfamiliar faces.”
“These are Reese Hunter’s friends, recently arrived from New York,” said Edes. “Mr. Lucas Priest. Mr. Finn Delaney, and young Andrew Cross. They’ve come to observe events in Boston for themselves and report back to our friends in the New
York colony. Reese vouches for them.”
“Very well.” said Adams, nodding. In that case welcome, gentlemen. You have arrived upon a dark day, indeed. Four of our number have been foully slain and we are met to discuss how to proceed.”
He looked around to make sure he had everyone’s attention.
“There have been times.” he said. “when we have not acted nobly. Yet, hard times demand hard actions. And the mobs cannot always be controlled. Things have been done in the name of our cause that I regret, despite the fact that our cause has been advanced by them. Men have been set upon and beaten, and yet I cannot truly say that they did not well deserve a beating. There are those whose homes have been invaded and torn down, yet they were men who, by their actions, sought to invade our rights and to tear down our liberties. Men have been pressured to resign their offices, and yet it can be said that tyrants have no business holding office.”
“Hear, hear,” said someone. We must, of necessity,” said Adams. “use whatever means are open to us in order to achieve our ends, and sometimes those means are hard, indeed… but, gentlemen, we have never yet committed murder.”
“Not yet,” said Quincy, grimly, and several of the men grumbled their assent.
“Not ever.” Adams said. “Not ever.” He looked around at all of them. His hands began to tremble, so he clasped them. “We are patriots, my friends, not murderers. And if the time should ever come when blood is to be spilled, then let it be in honorable warfare, and not foul murder in the night!”
At the mention at the word “warfare,” the men began to mumble among themselves. “Yes, gentlemen, war.” said Adams. “It is the first time we have used that word among us, though I have known for some time now that war must inevitably come. It is not yet time for us to speak of war in public, but those of us present in this room must give due consideration to that eventuality. For I am certain that it must come to that. We in the colonies are not, as they call us in Parliament ‘rebellious children.’ We are grown into adulthood and the time has come for us to make our own way in the world, independent of Great Britain.”
“Amen to that!” said Edes and several voices joined him in chorus.
“But must it come to war’?” said Otis. “Gentlemen.” he said. rising to his feet, “there is no more noble society on earth than that of Britain! Why, we are all of us Englishmen! True. I will admit, we have had our disagreements with our mother country, but surely these disagreements can be settled without resort to-”
“Oh, do sit down. Jemmy,” Hancock said softly, in a weary tone.
“I have the right to speak!”
“Sit down. Jemmy.” said Bill Campbell. “Sam has the floor.
Amid a chorus of “Sit down. Jemmy! Sit down!” Otis reluctantly resumed his scat and fixed a morose gaze upon the punch bowl. He said nothing more. but his lips moved silently.
“There was a time. Jemmy,” said Adams. Sadly, “when your fire was the brightest flame among us. But now the time is past for speeches. And the time is long past for talk of reconciliation. English we may be, by law, but when we are denied our rights as Englishmen under England’s law, then that law has ceased to serve us. Englishmen we may be. but Americans we must become!”
“Well said, well said!”
“Spoken like a patriot!”
“Enough.” said Adams. As I have said, the time is past for speeches. We must free ourselves from England. but England will never willingly let us go. It is our duty, gentlemen, to prepare the populace for what must come. We must gain their sympathy and unite them to our cause. But we cannot hope to
do so if we should stoop to murder. There must be no killing.’
“There has already been killing,” said John Winslow.
“And we must not add to it,” said Adams. “Tell that to Macintosh and Swift.” said Edes “They are not men to turn the other check. Sam.”
“No one asks them to turn the other cheek. Ben,” Adams said. “The murderers must be found and brought to justice. Aye, let them hang, but let them be tried for murder in a court of law and be brought to their punishment by jury! We must have no lynching by the mob! There are those in England, gentlemen, who are sympathetic to our cause. They will not long remain so if we start to murder our own citizens. Boston sets an example for all the other colonies. Their eyes are all upon us. Already, there are many who decry our methods, who condemn mob violence, as we must openly condemn it. You saw how the people at the town responded when the mob destroyed Hutchinson’s house. What will they say of us if we start to murder Tories? Governor Bernard has petitioned General Gage for troops. Would you play into his hands by giving Gage a reason to dispatch them?”