"Death asks for no man's leave,
But lifts the latch, and enters, and sits down."
The great events of most lives occur in epochs. A certain period is
marked by a succession of important changes, but that ride of fortune,
be it good or ill, culminates, recedes, goes quite out, and leaves life
on a level beach of commonplaces. Then, sooner or later, the current of
affairs turns again; sometimes with a calm, irresistible flow, sometimes
in a tidal wave of sudden and overwhelming strength. After Hyde's and
Katherine's marriage, there was a long era noticeable only for such
vicissitudes as were incident to their fortune and position. But in May,
A.D. 1774, the first murmur of the returning tide of destiny was heard.
Not but what there had been for long some vague and general expectation
of momentous events which would touch many individual lives; but this
May night, a singular prescience of change made Hyde restless and
impatient.
It was a dull, drizzling evening; and there was an air of depression in
the city, to which he was unusually sensitive. For the trouble between
England and her American Colonies was rapidly culminating; and party
feeling ran high, not only among civilians, but throughout the royal
regiments. Recently, also, a petition had been laid before the king from
the Americans then resident in London, praying him not to send troops to
coerce his subjects in America; and, when Hyde entered his club, some
members were engaged in an angry altercation on this subject.
"The petition was flung upon the table, as it ought to have been," said
Lord Paget.
"You are right," replied Mr. Hervey; "they ought to petition no longer.
They ought now to resist. Mr. Dunning said in the House last night that
the tone of the Government to the Colonies was, 'Resist, and we will cut
your throats: acquiesce, and we will tax you.'"
"A kind of 'stand and deliver' government," remarked Hyde, whistling
softly.
Lord Paget turned upon him with hardly concealed anger. "Captain, you,
sir, wear the king's livery."
"I give the king my service: my thoughts are my own. And, faith, Lord
Paget, it is my humour to utter them when and how I please!"
"Patience, gentlemen," returned Mr. Hervey. "I think, my lord, we may
follow our leaders. The Duke of Richmond spoke warmly for Boston last
night. 'The Bostonians are punished without a hearing,' he said; 'and if
they resist punishment, I wish them success.' Are they not Englishmen,
and many of them born on English soil? When have Englishmen submitted to
oppression? Neither king, lords, nor commons can take away the rights of
the people. It is past a doubt, too, that his Majesty, at the levee last
night, laughed when he said he would just as lief fight the Bostonians
as the French. I heard this speech was received with a dead silence, and
that great offence was given by it."