“General Gage thinks so, at any rate. You know when he first arrived to take the governorship of the colony of Massachusetts Bay, he had a very poor opinion of Americans. Indeed, he still pretends to think the same. His letters to the king’s ministers, so I hear, still maintain that the colonists are cowards, that they will not fight, that they will not hold together long enough to make this movement serious, that they are mere blusterers who think to bully the king into doing what they ask. But it’s common talk aboard ship, at least, that he’s grown anxious. When he sends troops beyond the limits of the city, though they go bravely enough, with flying colors and to the music of their bands, he does not know if they will return alive, or no.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that the towns all about are very determined.”
“And they show their determination in a practical way by taking all the ammunition from the public magazines and hiding it away for their own use. All the cannon they can lay hold of are used the same way; those guns which they have not succeeded in carrying off, they’ve spiked or thrown into streams. And, I may add, that the spirit which sets mothers, wives and daughters to moulding musket-balls for a defence of what they call their country’s rights, is one hard to put down.”
“But why does not General Gage make an effort to stop all this?”
“How can he? Massachusetts must first be overawed by a huge army—which Gage has not at command—before any sort of successful measures can be taken. To attempt it now might cost a thousand lives. And I know,” added the man, with a grim smile, “that you wouldn’t care to see that.”
“No, no,” replied the boy, his face going pale. “I think that above all else open war must be prevented.”
“Gage is willing enough to let matters stand as they are. He thinks that in the end the people will become more divided and the whole matter settle itself. But the Tories are at him constantly to take measures. Nothing will do them but that their Whig neighbors shall be hanged or punished in some equally vigorous way; and they also demand that expeditions be sent to suppress the outlying towns. Up to this time, the governor has resisted them; but I hardly think he is man enough to continue to do so.”
Then for a long time the two ate their food in silence. Then the man asked:
“You are living at Cambridge, I suppose.”
“Yes,” replied the other.