Dawn of Liberty - Short Story Collection
"Gracious Father, our fate is before us. Each day that slips by is lifeblood dripping from our Country's veins."
Samuel Adams folded and unfolded his hands on the bed. His knees ached from kneeling all night long, but he wasn't yet ready to rise.
"Almighty Jehovah that led the Israelites from captivity, lighten our path to liberty. Our years of suffering are full. Lead us out of this bondage afflicting us to the still waters of peace and the green pastures of prosperity."
His mind wandered back to his beloved Boston where the tyranny and suffering at the hand of the British were acute. He could hear the cries of the crowd, see the stains of blood in the street and the flash of muskets. His eyes flew open as his breath caught in his throat, but all was dark and quiet in the apartment. The grandfather clock outside his boarding room chimed. Five o'clock; it would still be close to an hour before the sun would finally rise.
With trembling hands, he rose from his aching knees and sat down on the bed. He had been in the streets of Boston the night of the massacre. Bodies of innocents littered the street, their crimson blood crying out for justice and liberty. Widows wailed over their dead husbands, mothers cried out for their murdered sons. It was these people who suffered most from King George's tyranny. Poor, innocent people who could not pay his ridiculous taxes.
He had seen it time after time when he was employed as tax collector. He believed in 'giving to Caesar that which was Caesar's', but the taxes forced upon the colonies went far beyond that. Families would have to sell off everything they had left, just to pay tax to the greatest empire on earth. This is why he had failed his post. He couldn't force them to pay when they needed the money far more than a selfish king across the sea. For this, the government had punished him. The magistrates prosecuted him for being "intolerably inefficient" as collector. Well, if that's what England calls intolerable, then he was proud to bear the reproach.
With a sigh, he flopped back on the bed. The wooden frame squeaked in protest. For days, Congress delayed the debate on independence. Each day the words written by the clerk burned his soul. This Congress will, tomorrow, resolve itself into a committee of the whole to take into their further consideration the declaration respecting independence. Tomorrow, tomorrow. How long would they put it off?
"Easy, Adams. You've waited years. A few more days and it will be resolved." His self-chiding, even when done aloud, did little to calm his nerves. "Perhaps it will be today. It must be today."
At least Congress had consented to have the document drafted. They had appointed a committee of five men to compose it, with a young delegate from Virginia as the main author. How he wished he could see what they had framed. The wording of the declaration is so important. It must be firm and thorough in explaining the tyranny of Britain and the Colonies' cause for independence. It must clearly claim their God-given right to liberty.
The sound of squeaking hinges came from the room across from his. He jumped up and jerked open his door. "John."
His cousin whirled around, his mouth twisted in a startled expression. "Sam, you're liable to be my cause of death one of these days."
"Are you off to meet with Jefferson already?"
"We wish to meet one last time before session, but I was on my way to take breakfast. Won't you join me?"
"With pleasure." He grabbed his notorious red overcoat from the chair back, he stuffed his arms into the sleeves as he trotted to catch up to John's pace.
"Mercy, Sam, have you slept at all? Your eyes are bloodshot and those bags under your eyes could transport Mrs. Hancock's wardrobe."
Sam chuckled, though it was a bit of a sore spot. Hancock was blessed enough to have his newly-wed wife with him, but she did have an obsession with fashion. He envied Hancock's happiness of having his wife near. Sam was obliged to receive just a few letters from Betsy and hadn't the pleasure of a reunion with her since September.
"Sleep? I'm not sure. Every time I close my eyes I see the faces of my brethren that have died for freedom. I don't know if you could call it sleep." They descended the stairs of Sarah Yard's Lodging House and crossed Second Street to the City Tavern. The crisp morning air was invigorating, and the first signs of dawn appeared on the horizon. His stomach fluttered as he thought of the duty before them today.
They entered the coffee-room and found a table. The room was vacant except for one other man seated alone in the far corner. Not many rose this early for breakfast. A cozy fire glowed in the large hearth, and homey smells of sausage, coffee and hoecakes wafted through the air. They made their selections of hot porridge, sausages, and skillet potatoes, then steaming cups of coffee were set in front of them.
Sam inhaled the wisps of steam drifting from his mug. "There is nothing like a hot cup of tax-free coffee."
"Indeed, it's been a while since we've had that. But I must say, I do miss my tea."
"As do I, Cousin. But the boycott is the only way to get Parliament to overturn the act. That is...unless we can win our independence. It is a small sacrifice, I suppose. When do you meet with Jefferson and the others?"
"Seven. Thomas thought it best to meet at his apartment so we would have privacy to discuss the final draft."
Sam settled back in his seat. He'd hoped they'd be meeting here. Perhaps then he would be able to overhear some of their discussion.
John let out a hearty laugh. "Don't look so disappointed, Sam. You will hear the document in full today."
"Yes, but by then it will be too late to change anything written."
"Sam," his young cousin leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "I know how much you would have liked to be on this committee and to help frame the document."
"I won't deny it. I will even admit the suspense is liable to drive me stark mad. But it is better this way. It is right that a Virginian should pen it. The colony of Virginia is a large part of our union. Jefferson drafting the document will ensure their support."
John placed a napkin on his lap as the waiter slid his plate in front of him. "Yes, and Franklin is a Pennsylvanian and recently from England. His participation will add a great deal of weight to the document. Pennsylvania is the colony most opposed to independence."
"In addition, as much as I hate to admit it, my absence from the committee will make it more acceptable to the other delegates."
John winced.
"Oh, don't fret about it, John." Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "I've heard what they all say. They consider me a 'desperate and fanatical adventurer with nothing to lose.' It does not trouble me that they think me too extreme and passionate . It seems General Gage agrees with them."
They both chuckled at the mention of General Gage's opinion of him. When the general had enacted Marshall Law in Boston, he had graciously offered to pardon all men "excepting only from the benefit of such pardon, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, whose offenses are of too flagitious a nature to admit of any other consideration than that of condign punishment." Sam was quite pleased with this statement and considered it a credit to his station.
John swallowed a bite of sausage. "As much as I would have appreciated your mind and pen in this endeavor, there is one reason above all that I'm glad you are free of it."
Sam shook his head. "Enlighten me."
"You are needed here."
"Here?" He glanced around. "In the tavern?"
"Yes. The other delegates dine and converse here often. You can talk with them, impart the need for independence to them. Without a doubt, they will vote on the declaration today. Franklin has told me Dickinson and Morris still intend to vote opposed to independence. Their nay votes prevent Pennsylvania from approving the document. You must speak with them. If we could convince them to abstain from voting, or even to be absent, Pennsylvania can vote to adopt the declaration."
"How am I, of all people, to change their minds?" Sam smoothed his wig with both hands.
"Sam, you are a persuasive speaker, I have confidence in your ability. The Almighty will guide you, but you must try."
*****
Sam twiddled his thumbs as he waited for John Dickinson and Robert Morris to appear. He still did not have any inclination as to what he would say to convince them.
Almighty God and friend, give me the words to say and grant me favor in their sight.
A verse from the Scripture spoke to his heart. 'But when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak; for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak.'
"It is the same hour, Lord. I need the words."
'Lo, I am with you always. I will not leave thee, nor forsake thee.'
He stared into his coffee, watching the wisps of steam and heard the words his dear Betsy had said to him when he had asked for her hand. "Who could resist your silver tongue, Samuel Adams?" She had said with a coy sparkle in her eye. "Even if I had a mind to, I could not refuse after such a speech."
At long last, the two men appeared at the doorway of the coffee room. Sam stood and waved them over to his table. A glance at his pocket watch told him he hadn't much time before Congress reconvened. Whatever he was going to say, he must say it quick.
"Good morning, gentlemen. Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please sit down."
Dickinson gave his companion a skeptical glance and took his seat. "What can we do for you, Mr. Adams?"
Sam sat across from them. "Mr. Dickinson, you have a charming colony. Pennsylvania is stunning in beauty and atmosphere."
The man nodded with a slight smile."It seems your cousin does not agree. When asked, he was adamant that he prefers Massachusetts, saying 'the religion in Boston is superior.' Though, he did admit to the serenity of our city. The very name of Philadelphia means brotherly love."
"Is that so? What a blessing it is that tyranny has yet to scathe your serene commonwealth. We have not been so fortunate in Boston."
Dickinson held up a hand. "Mr. Adams, if this is an attempt to change our opinion on declaring independence from Britain at this time, I dare say you waste your breath and our time."
"Please, sirs, hear me out. I do not hope to change your conviction, but to enlighten you to some facts of which you may have been unaware."
They both sat back in their chairs and Morris folded his hands over his chest. "You don't have much time, Mr. Adams. Congress reconvenes at nine."
"I will be quick, and to the point. My last several years in Boston, I must admit, have been difficult and unhappy, as they have been for all citizens of Massachusetts and—I venture to say—the majority of American colonists. The actions of parliament and his majesty King George have made it so."
Morris rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, I know. Taxation without representation. Adams, we have heard this rhetoric many times before."
"Rhetoric? Mr. Morris, is that all tyranny is to you? Either you have no awareness, or you've been living with your head beneath the sand for the past decade. Obviously, you do not understand. So let me tell you, as an eyewitness of these accounts, what has been taking place in these colonies."
Samuel Adams folded and unfolded his hands on the bed. His knees ached from kneeling all night long, but he wasn't yet ready to rise.
"Almighty Jehovah that led the Israelites from captivity, lighten our path to liberty. Our years of suffering are full. Lead us out of this bondage afflicting us to the still waters of peace and the green pastures of prosperity."
His mind wandered back to his beloved Boston where the tyranny and suffering at the hand of the British were acute. He could hear the cries of the crowd, see the stains of blood in the street and the flash of muskets. His eyes flew open as his breath caught in his throat, but all was dark and quiet in the apartment. The grandfather clock outside his boarding room chimed. Five o'clock; it would still be close to an hour before the sun would finally rise.
With trembling hands, he rose from his aching knees and sat down on the bed. He had been in the streets of Boston the night of the massacre. Bodies of innocents littered the street, their crimson blood crying out for justice and liberty. Widows wailed over their dead husbands, mothers cried out for their murdered sons. It was these people who suffered most from King George's tyranny. Poor, innocent people who could not pay his ridiculous taxes.
He had seen it time after time when he was employed as tax collector. He believed in 'giving to Caesar that which was Caesar's', but the taxes forced upon the colonies went far beyond that. Families would have to sell off everything they had left, just to pay tax to the greatest empire on earth. This is why he had failed his post. He couldn't force them to pay when they needed the money far more than a selfish king across the sea. For this, the government had punished him. The magistrates prosecuted him for being "intolerably inefficient" as collector. Well, if that's what England calls intolerable, then he was proud to bear the reproach.
With a sigh, he flopped back on the bed. The wooden frame squeaked in protest. For days, Congress delayed the debate on independence. Each day the words written by the clerk burned his soul. This Congress will, tomorrow, resolve itself into a committee of the whole to take into their further consideration the declaration respecting independence. Tomorrow, tomorrow. How long would they put it off?
"Easy, Adams. You've waited years. A few more days and it will be resolved." His self-chiding, even when done aloud, did little to calm his nerves. "Perhaps it will be today. It must be today."
At least Congress had consented to have the document drafted. They had appointed a committee of five men to compose it, with a young delegate from Virginia as the main author. How he wished he could see what they had framed. The wording of the declaration is so important. It must be firm and thorough in explaining the tyranny of Britain and the Colonies' cause for independence. It must clearly claim their God-given right to liberty.
The sound of squeaking hinges came from the room across from his. He jumped up and jerked open his door. "John."
His cousin whirled around, his mouth twisted in a startled expression. "Sam, you're liable to be my cause of death one of these days."
"Are you off to meet with Jefferson already?"
"We wish to meet one last time before session, but I was on my way to take breakfast. Won't you join me?"
"With pleasure." He grabbed his notorious red overcoat from the chair back, he stuffed his arms into the sleeves as he trotted to catch up to John's pace.
"Mercy, Sam, have you slept at all? Your eyes are bloodshot and those bags under your eyes could transport Mrs. Hancock's wardrobe."
Sam chuckled, though it was a bit of a sore spot. Hancock was blessed enough to have his newly-wed wife with him, but she did have an obsession with fashion. He envied Hancock's happiness of having his wife near. Sam was obliged to receive just a few letters from Betsy and hadn't the pleasure of a reunion with her since September.
"Sleep? I'm not sure. Every time I close my eyes I see the faces of my brethren that have died for freedom. I don't know if you could call it sleep." They descended the stairs of Sarah Yard's Lodging House and crossed Second Street to the City Tavern. The crisp morning air was invigorating, and the first signs of dawn appeared on the horizon. His stomach fluttered as he thought of the duty before them today.
They entered the coffee-room and found a table. The room was vacant except for one other man seated alone in the far corner. Not many rose this early for breakfast. A cozy fire glowed in the large hearth, and homey smells of sausage, coffee and hoecakes wafted through the air. They made their selections of hot porridge, sausages, and skillet potatoes, then steaming cups of coffee were set in front of them.
Sam inhaled the wisps of steam drifting from his mug. "There is nothing like a hot cup of tax-free coffee."
"Indeed, it's been a while since we've had that. But I must say, I do miss my tea."
"As do I, Cousin. But the boycott is the only way to get Parliament to overturn the act. That is...unless we can win our independence. It is a small sacrifice, I suppose. When do you meet with Jefferson and the others?"
"Seven. Thomas thought it best to meet at his apartment so we would have privacy to discuss the final draft."
Sam settled back in his seat. He'd hoped they'd be meeting here. Perhaps then he would be able to overhear some of their discussion.
John let out a hearty laugh. "Don't look so disappointed, Sam. You will hear the document in full today."
"Yes, but by then it will be too late to change anything written."
"Sam," his young cousin leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "I know how much you would have liked to be on this committee and to help frame the document."
"I won't deny it. I will even admit the suspense is liable to drive me stark mad. But it is better this way. It is right that a Virginian should pen it. The colony of Virginia is a large part of our union. Jefferson drafting the document will ensure their support."
John placed a napkin on his lap as the waiter slid his plate in front of him. "Yes, and Franklin is a Pennsylvanian and recently from England. His participation will add a great deal of weight to the document. Pennsylvania is the colony most opposed to independence."
"In addition, as much as I hate to admit it, my absence from the committee will make it more acceptable to the other delegates."
John winced.
"Oh, don't fret about it, John." Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "I've heard what they all say. They consider me a 'desperate and fanatical adventurer with nothing to lose.' It does not trouble me that they think me too extreme and passionate . It seems General Gage agrees with them."
They both chuckled at the mention of General Gage's opinion of him. When the general had enacted Marshall Law in Boston, he had graciously offered to pardon all men "excepting only from the benefit of such pardon, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, whose offenses are of too flagitious a nature to admit of any other consideration than that of condign punishment." Sam was quite pleased with this statement and considered it a credit to his station.
John swallowed a bite of sausage. "As much as I would have appreciated your mind and pen in this endeavor, there is one reason above all that I'm glad you are free of it."
Sam shook his head. "Enlighten me."
"You are needed here."
"Here?" He glanced around. "In the tavern?"
"Yes. The other delegates dine and converse here often. You can talk with them, impart the need for independence to them. Without a doubt, they will vote on the declaration today. Franklin has told me Dickinson and Morris still intend to vote opposed to independence. Their nay votes prevent Pennsylvania from approving the document. You must speak with them. If we could convince them to abstain from voting, or even to be absent, Pennsylvania can vote to adopt the declaration."
"How am I, of all people, to change their minds?" Sam smoothed his wig with both hands.
"Sam, you are a persuasive speaker, I have confidence in your ability. The Almighty will guide you, but you must try."
*****
Sam twiddled his thumbs as he waited for John Dickinson and Robert Morris to appear. He still did not have any inclination as to what he would say to convince them.
Almighty God and friend, give me the words to say and grant me favor in their sight.
A verse from the Scripture spoke to his heart. 'But when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak; for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak.'
"It is the same hour, Lord. I need the words."
'Lo, I am with you always. I will not leave thee, nor forsake thee.'
He stared into his coffee, watching the wisps of steam and heard the words his dear Betsy had said to him when he had asked for her hand. "Who could resist your silver tongue, Samuel Adams?" She had said with a coy sparkle in her eye. "Even if I had a mind to, I could not refuse after such a speech."
At long last, the two men appeared at the doorway of the coffee room. Sam stood and waved them over to his table. A glance at his pocket watch told him he hadn't much time before Congress reconvened. Whatever he was going to say, he must say it quick.
"Good morning, gentlemen. Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please sit down."
Dickinson gave his companion a skeptical glance and took his seat. "What can we do for you, Mr. Adams?"
Sam sat across from them. "Mr. Dickinson, you have a charming colony. Pennsylvania is stunning in beauty and atmosphere."
The man nodded with a slight smile."It seems your cousin does not agree. When asked, he was adamant that he prefers Massachusetts, saying 'the religion in Boston is superior.' Though, he did admit to the serenity of our city. The very name of Philadelphia means brotherly love."
"Is that so? What a blessing it is that tyranny has yet to scathe your serene commonwealth. We have not been so fortunate in Boston."
Dickinson held up a hand. "Mr. Adams, if this is an attempt to change our opinion on declaring independence from Britain at this time, I dare say you waste your breath and our time."
"Please, sirs, hear me out. I do not hope to change your conviction, but to enlighten you to some facts of which you may have been unaware."
They both sat back in their chairs and Morris folded his hands over his chest. "You don't have much time, Mr. Adams. Congress reconvenes at nine."
"I will be quick, and to the point. My last several years in Boston, I must admit, have been difficult and unhappy, as they have been for all citizens of Massachusetts and—I venture to say—the majority of American colonists. The actions of parliament and his majesty King George have made it so."
Morris rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, I know. Taxation without representation. Adams, we have heard this rhetoric many times before."
"Rhetoric? Mr. Morris, is that all tyranny is to you? Either you have no awareness, or you've been living with your head beneath the sand for the past decade. Obviously, you do not understand. So let me tell you, as an eyewitness of these accounts, what has been taking place in these colonies."