“Gentlemen, I can conceive of nothing but success in the plans of Mr. Barclugh,” said Lord Carlisle, “and I propose that we drink to his success.”
The three plotters stood around the table and General Clinton filled each one’s glass from the buffet with his rarest Madeira, then raising his glass, the Commander of His Majesty’s forces in America, proposed a toast, which was drunk in silence:
“Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
God save the King.”
After a few civilities exchanged by the King’s representatives, Roderick Barclugh was conducted aboard the sloop-of-war, Vulture, which was commanded to sail for the Capes of the Chesapeake and land its passenger at the earliest possible moment.
CHAPTER VII
Philadelphia was in a curious state of unpatriotic sentiment during the winter of 1778. The merchants, the Quakers and wealthy landowners (whose fortunes were established) had sentiments that were decidedly pro-English. Only the leadership and influence of such men as Franklin, Mifflin, Thomson and the influx of patriotism from other Colonies through such men as Patrick Henry, Samuel Adams, Jefferson, Livingston, and the peerless actions of Washington alone saved the least spark of independence among the leading citizens. Philadelphia reeked with Loyalists. After the evacuation of the town by the British army, it was impossible for the Whigs to celebrate such a glorious event by an exclusively Whig ball. All the belles of the town embraced a list of those who had attended every social function of the British officers. They dined where the King was toasted; attended theatricals where our native land was ridiculed. Even the glorious heraldic pageant of the Meschianza claimed homage, from the belles of the leading families.