STAND FAST (July, 1776, Philadelphia, Johnny Grant returns to Alice's Tavern to be married and finds it crowded with delegates to the Continental Congress who have not agreed on a Declaration of Independence although American are fighting British troops.) Other rooms and other times and a handsome prince, as young and idealistic as young Jefferson, red hair, too. All dreaming of the New Kingdom they would inherit with no effort or bloodshed. All convinced that with a few words, a few glorious battles, the forces of tyranny would surrender and a New Age would dawn. Johnny Grant of Grantown on Spey was a second son and had not been raised to call out the clan. He was an observer, an intellectual, a lover, but deep in the blood, a power existed. He stood on the step that led to the back bar kegs and the Irish snug, his bright hair gleaming in the condlelight. "It is time you all went home to your beds!" he shouted and a stillness fell over the contentious guests. "You voted today and will vote tomorrow. I want you to have nightmares until you do your duty!" There was a dull and resentful hum from the crowd. "You are all virgins! All damn puking virgins, acting like men," he bellowed. "Dr. Franklin in the corner there knows what is to come. General Washington, so silent and so grave knows what we have. But you poltroons have never felt the hemp upon your necks. Take off your lace stocks and feel the flow of blood and the passage of air to your lungs. That is what you hazard---not words on paper." He paused and the room was so silent he could hear the raindrops falling on the windows. "You have all done high treason," he said. "America has no nobility as we had in Scotland. Our Scots nobility, guilty of treason, like Balmerino, were given the great gift of a quick, dignified and painless death---the sword. None of you will have that. You will suffer as we Highlanders did. You have called George III your enemy. He will be that. Worse than George II who condemned the army of the Prince. You will be tortured." He waved his thumbless hand. "Do you want to see my back? I am an officer in your army. Once I was a rebel Highlander officer. I have been flogged by the king's men. Marched in chains and starved. And sold as a slave." Many faces were white and some soft mouths were hanging open. He smiled at them, grimly, as if they were students he planned to educate. "I was most fortunate," he said, his voice becoming soft and genial. "The king sold me for seven years labor. But before that, my friends died. British soldiers tied them to hurdles and dragged them through the streets while the ignorant pelted them with dung. Then they tied the lovely hemp rope around their necks and pulled them high to let them dangle and turn black. They cut them down before the last breath and tied them to the butcher's block. "It mut have felt like Paradise, the breath flowing back into the lungs. Until the executioner raised his knife---and cut off the man's balls. Then as he screamed in pain and horror, the executioner sliced into the belly---right here---and ripped out the stomach and bowels. The stench was great as he burned the entrails before the traitor's eyes. Then he pulled forth the beating heart. It was all over. And we call the Indians savages! "That sirs is what will happen to you if we do not win this revolution. I have seen the mercy of Kings. While you quibble about phrases, George of Hanover is landing your executioners on Staten Island. I suggest you go home and think about the gibbet. This tavern is closed." As the men moved silently from the once cheerful main room of Alice's tavern, Benjamin Franklin stood next to Washington and handed the blue-coated general his sword. "Do not forget this, general," Franklin said. "You will need it. Johnny speaks true. I saw them hang children at Tyburn for picking pockets. They would do more to us." "Then we must win, Dr. Franklin," Washington said. He watched the delegates file silently from the tavern, a grim smile piercing his wide jaw. "I hope they have fruitful nightmares." |