The Rifleman Read online

  “What changed him? Was it one of your sermons?”

  Rev. Thruston chuckled, “Well, I would like to take the credit, but I didn’t become the Rector of Frederick Parish until 1768. From what Daniel has told me, his initial change of behavior wasn’t so much spiritual as it was physical. He fell in love with Abigail Curry. They now have two daughters, Nancy and Betsy.”

  I was immediately reminded of the pretty girl playing the flute at church. I could feel the color rising in my cheeks but asked, “Were they at church yesterday?”

  The pastor laughed again and said, “I’m guessing what you’re thinking because I noticed you were very attentive to that attractive musician during our hymns. But no, none of the Morgans were there yesterday. Besides, if memory serves me right, Nancy is only twelve and Betsy is just ten. They both served as maids of honor when I officiated at their parents’ wedding two years ago, at Cunningham’s Chapel.”

  At this revelation I looked hard at Rev. Thruston to determine if he was jesting. He wasn’t. But he didn’t make me ask.

  “Don’t be off put by what I just told you Nathanael. I am well aware of what the church teaches about ‘living in sin.’ You know what I mean?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. As ‘believers’ we’re supposed to hate the sin but love the sinner. Well, we’re all sinners. Though I am an ordained minister, if I turned away every sinner who showed up at a church door, I would be preaching to an empty house every Sunday. Daniel and Abigail lived together out of wedlock for ten years. What undoubtedly started as a strong physical attraction, call it ‘lust’ if you wish, became love. Do you have a Bible at home?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s how my mother taught my brothers and me to read.”

  “Well, when next you have time, open the Old Testament to Genesis 2:24 and in the New Testament to Mark’s Gospel, chapter 10, verses 7 and 8 and read what it says about how a man shall ‘cleave to his wife; And they twain shall be one flesh . . .’ Do you know what ‘cleave’ and ‘one flesh’ means?”

  By now I was very red in the face, but responded, “Yes, sir. Our parents explained it to us and told us it is one of the ways God made for us to express love.”

  “Right. If your parents hadn’t ‘cleaved’ to one another and become ‘one flesh,’ you and your brothers would never have been born. It’s the same for Daniel and Abigail. It just took them a decade to have a minister bless their union. But I believe them when they say they have been faithful to one another throughout—and that’s what really matters.

  “It’s no secret Abigail has been a very positive influence on Daniel. She is not only an attractive woman, she is also very wise. She and your mother define the meaning of a ‘Proverbs 31 wife.’ Do you know what that means?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Were it not for Abigail, Daniel might never have mended his ways, become as successful as he is, ever set foot in a church, or have been motivated to come to know his Lord and Savior. And had all that not happened—even before Daniel and Abigail married—Isaac Zane, Angus McDonald, and I would not have voted to commission Morgan a captain in the militia in 1771.

  “In retrospect, it was good that we did because things were heading the wrong way here in this colony and elsewhere well before Daniel returned to service.”

  “How is that, sir?”

  Rev. Thruston thought for a moment and said, “Well, whether people realize it or not, Britain is already at war with us. Your brother Joshua is one of its first casualties. But the seeds for this fight were planted in the treaty that ended the war your father, Morgan, and Washington fought—and that killed General Braddock.”

  “The Treaty of Paris in February 1763?”

  “Yes. Well done, Nathanael. How do you know that?”

  “At supper each night, our parents made us take turns reading aloud every newspaper, broadside, and pamphlet that arrived in our home.”

  “Well then, if I’m telling you things you already know, stop me. The Treaty of Paris ended what we call the French and Indian War. But seven years of conflict, fought here, at sea, and in Europe bankrupted the British treasury. The Crown desperately needed ways to reduce costs and increase revenues. Unfortunately, desperation often prompts people to do really stupid things.

  “The first of many stupid acts by London came in October 1763—just eight months after the treaty—when Parliament issued a proclamation barring any settlements west of a line drawn down the crest of the Allegheny Mountains. They believed it would save money by eliminating the cost of protecting settlers from the savages.”

  “I know about the ‘Proclamation Line,’ but how did Parliament decide where the line would be drawn?”

  “Good question. Few of the geniuses in London ever came to this continent, so they drew a line based on where water went. All land where the water flowed east, into the Atlantic, was approved for colonial settlement. Land where water flowed west, into the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico, was suddenly Indian Territory and barred from Colonial settlement.

  “Of course, this decision completely ignored the rights of tens of thousands of families who were already settled west of the line. Some of them had been there for forty years or more. They weren’t about to move back east, so they ignored the new ruling—as did thousands more immigrants from all over Europe who were brave enough to risk starting a new life in a new land. They too continued to move west—disregarding a mere line drawn on a map.

  “From then on, there was a succession of stupid things done in London to infuriate almost everyone in every colony. A year later, in 1764, in an effort to raise revenues, Parliament imposed a new tax on sugar imported into the Colonies and enforced a ‘Currency Act,’ compelling all colonial debts incurred during the French and Indian War to be repaid only in British pounds sterling—meaning debtors could no longer repay London creditors with currency printed in the Colonies. The rule forced many colonials into bankruptcy.

  “One year later, in March 1765, Parliament passed their so-called ‘Stamp Act’—requiring materials printed in the thirteen colonies—newspapers, pamphlets, broadsides, legal documents, even playing cards—to be printed only on paper imported from Britain stamped with a Royal Revenue ‘water mark.’ The edict was detested throughout the Colonies and revived Rev. Jonathan Mayhew’s 1750, ‘No Taxation Without Representation’3 sermon.

  “The phrase became the rallying cry of Patriots calling for rebellion against the Crown. Here in Virginia, Governor Fauquier dismissed the House of Burgesses from their annual legislative assembly after Patrick Henry, in a speech Loyalists called ‘treason,’ urged Virginia to reject paying any of the King’s new taxes. In Boston, angry Patriots ransacked Royal Governor Thomas Hutchinson’s mansion.

  “Parliament repealed the Stamp Act in 1766 but replaced it with a ‘Declaratory Act’ which asserted the Colonies were ‘subordinate unto, and dependent upon the imperial crown and parliament of Great Britain.’ The words ‘subordinate’ and ‘dependent’ provoked boycotts of British goods in colonial seaports. The Townshend Acts in 1767—a series of measures levying new duties on lead, tin, glass, lamp oil, paper, and tea exported from Britain to the Colonies—and barring the colonies from importing these goods from other countries—only made matters worse.

  “Within weeks, protests against these fees erupted in Boston, New York, Norfolk, Philadelphia, and other ports—even Charleston. In 1768, in an effort to quell dissent—and ensure collection of revenues owed to His Majesty—London dispatched 4,000 British troops to restore order in Boston. Adding insult to injury, Parliament insisted that Massachusetts Colony pay the costs of quartering the British soldiers in civilian homes.

  “Demonstrations and the threat of serious violence precipitated by these onerous measures quickly became even more widespread, particularly in Boston. On the night of March 5th, 1770, a Patriot group calling itself ‘The Sons of Liberty’ set
out to evict a Crown Revenue Officer—the official responsible for collecting Royal taxes and customs duties. British troops were called out to protect him and in the midst of the confrontation, the soldiers opened fire, killing five of the Patriots, and wounding six others.

  “The incident sparked outrage throughout the Colonies. Sam Adams in Boston and Patrick Henry here in Virginia—and many others in New England, New York, and the Carolinas—denounced the event as ‘The Boston Massacre.’

  “It’s rarely mentioned these days but Sam Adam’s cousin, John, also a member of Boston’s Secret Committee, served as defense attorney in the trial of the British officer charged with murder for what his troops did. A jury of Bostonians exonerated the young British Lieutenant and he was quickly shipped back to England—along with the king’s revenue officer—to avoid threats of ‘vigilante justice.’

  “From that point on, I think a break with Britain was almost inevitable, though it didn’t seem that way here in Virginia. John Murray, a Scot nobleman who liked being called ‘Lord Dunmore,’ was appointed Royal Governor in September 1771. He immediately began encouraging westward expansion and settlement—

  a policy popular here in Virginia—but not in financially strapped London.

  “Many, including me, believe Lord Dunmore did this to increase his own power. The further west he could push the borders of Virginia, the greater his territorial authority and population—and therefore his wealth and influence in Britain. If it hadn’t been for events in other colonies, like the burning of the British revenue cutter, Gaspee, off the coast of Rhode Island, he might have succeeded in becoming the most powerful man on this continent.

  “Unlike most other Royal Governors, John Murray—Lord Dunmore—actually took to the field last year, leading militiamen against the Shawnee tribes on the Ohio in what he cheerfully called, ‘Lord Dunmore’s War.’ It was a magnificent distraction for those of us here in Virginia. While the New England Patriots were contending with the Crown in London for their rights, Virginians were fighting Indians on the frontier for their lives.

  “But I’m getting ahead of myself. After Massachusetts Governor Hutchinson narrowly escaped being lynched by a mob, he petitioned Parliament for relief —which was partially granted late in 1771. As a conciliatory gesture, some British troops were withdrawn from domiciles in Boston proper and sent to Castle William: a fortress island guarding the sea approaches to the harbor.

  “A few of the most egregious regulations and taxes were repealed or held in abeyance—but not the tax on tea. The effect should have been predictable: posters, handbills, and broadsides appeared all over the Colonies: ‘Patriots don’t drink British Tea.’

  “The boycott was so successful by 1772, the British East India Company, the preeminent purveyor of tea to the Colonies, was soon in financial duress. Several members of the Royal family and a good number of members of Parliament owned shares of this enterprise. So, in May of 1773, in legislation obese with chicanery, Parliament passed the Tea Act granting the British East India Company a monopoly on importing any and all tea to the American colonies.

  “The result of this blatant attempt to save the company—and the shareholders in London from bankruptcy—could have been foreseen by anyone not blinded by arrogance, greed, and self-interest. The harbor pilots, seamen, and dockworkers essential to berthing, loading, and unloading ships simply refused to handle any cargoes of British East India Company tea arriving in American ports on British ships.

  “During November 1773, three British merchant ships—­Beaver, Dartmouth, and Eleanor—arrived in Boston Harbor, carrying loads manifested as 92,000 pounds of British East India Company tea. The vessels languished at anchor, awaiting towboats and oar-men to be dispatched by the harbormaster to tug them into berths so their cargoes could be offloaded. The ‘tugs’ never came.

  “The captains finally convinced their crews, if they wanted any shore leave before Christmas, they would have to lower their own longboats and pull the ships to Griffin’s Wharf themselves. The sailors did so. But the ‘dockers’ refused to unload the ­vessels—or allow collection of the mandatory Crown Customs Duty.

  “Colonial officials urged Governor Hutchinson to send the ships back to Britain with the tea still aboard. He refused, a standoff ensued, and the ‘Sons of Liberty’ posted a watch on the pier to ensure the cargo was not unloaded.

  “On the afternoon of December 16th, Samuel Adams called for ‘a meeting of Patriots’ at Old South Meeting House—a Puritan congregation’s place of worship and the largest building in Boston. More than 6,000 gathered for what began as a peaceful civil protest.

  “But shortly before midnight, by which time most of the merchant sailors were ashore whoring and drinking voluminous quantities of rum in the port’s taverns, a band of about 140 Sons of Liberty sortied from the meeting house and headed for Griffin’s wharf.

  “While thirty or so stood watch at the shore end of the pier, the rest of the ‘Sons,’ many garbed as Mohawk Indians, boarded the three vessels and unloaded the entire shipment of tea—into Boston Harbor. By dawn on the 17th all 342 chests of ruined tea were floating out to sea on the tide.4

  “Infuriated by what he called ‘wanton destruction of private property,’ Governor Hutchinson ordered British troops to commence house-to-house searches of every domicile and commercial building in Boston believed to be hiding the perpetrators. Dozens of suspects were rounded up, but no witnesses could be found to testify that any of the accused participated in the crime.

  “Word of what the Patriots did in Boston spread quickly through the Colonies—and reached London shortly after Christmas. Immediately after the holiday, Parliament convened ‘in emergency session’ and decided they must suppress any further ‘criminal violence’ with far more stringent measures than those already in force.

  “Lieutenant General Thomas Gage—you remember, he was a Lieutenant Colonel with Braddock, Morgan, and your father in the disaster on the Monongahela in 1755—was summoned to Parliament to provide advice on what to do. Gage suggested a draconian prescription and Frederick, Lord North, the prime minister, and a favorite of King George III, accepted the recommendations.

  “Since General Gage came up with the plan, he was given the privilege of implementing it. Gage was ordered to prepare 2,000 fresh troops for deployment to Boston and told he would replace Thomas Hutchinson as Royal Governor of Massachusetts Colony when he arrived. He was also given the authority to impose martial law if he deemed it necessary.

  “On 13 May 1774 when General Gage arrived in Boston aboard HMS Lively, a twenty-gun British warship, he came armed with the additional soldiers and extraordinary punitive powers authorized by Parliament. His mission was to bring Massachusetts Colony and the rest of us ‘to heel’ like you did with your hunting dog earlier.

  “The new General-Governor didn’t waste any time carrying out Parliament’s wishes. In London they called these measures ‘Coercive Acts.’ Here in the Colonies we called them ‘The Intolerable Acts.’ But no matter their name, General Gage in Boston—and Lord Dunmore—here in Virginia—carried out King George’s orders with zeal worthy of a despot’s acclaim.

  “Gage immediately enforced the Boston Port Act—completely closing the port of Boston to all commercial shipping and placing the harbor under martial law. A week later, on May 20, the elected Massachusetts colonial government—which traced its lineage to the 1690s—was abolished by an edict issued by General Gage.

  “On the same day—in what London cynically called the ‘Administration of Justice Act,’ all British authorities were exempted from prosecution in colonial courts. And two weeks later—on June 2nd, the Quartering Act made it mandatory for colonists to pay all costs for billeting and feeding British soldiers whether in their barracks or housed in private homes.

  “Here in Virginia, Lord Dunmore wanted the House of Burgesses to act on funding his plan for a military campaign against the I
ndians in the Ohio Valley. Instead, the oldest elected legislative assembly in this hemisphere—dating back to 1619—began debating resolutions opposing the Crown’s tax and regulatory authority. The Governor simply dismissed them from their annual session and locked them out of their chamber.

  “Instead of leaving Williamsburg for home, the Burgesses reconvened at Raleigh Tavern and, among other things, selected from their number seven members to represent Virginia at the Continental Congress, which convened in Philadelphia last September.5 Are you following me on all this?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied. “Since my two older brothers went away to college, my father has often spoken to me about what you have described. When we lived in Williamsburg, Mr. Patrick Henry was often at our home.

  “Two years ago, I went with Father to the gallery of the House of Burgesses on the day Mr. Patrick Henry, Mr. Richard Henry Lee, and Mr. Thomas Jefferson all spoke in favor of forming a Committee of Correspondence in Virginia.

  “And last October, just a few days after the Continental Congress adjourned in Philadelphia, Mr. Henry visited us in Winchester on his way back to Williamsburg. If I remember correctly, you were among the group of men who joined the discussion the following morning.”

  “That is correct. You have good recall, Nathanael,” Rev. Thruston said. “Do you know why we were meeting at your house?”

  “After you left, Father said all seven of Virginia’s representatives to the Congress were sent to different regions of the colony to explain what was accomplished in Philadelphia.”

  “And did he say what was achieved in Philadelphia?”

  Once again, I was uncertain how to reply to Rev. Thruston’s probing. Often after meetings at our home—or others elsewhere I was allowed to attend—Father would admonish me not to talk about who was there and what was said because, “There are Loyalists everywhere and not all of them make their sympathies known.”