New York - The Novel

not referring to that foolish doctrine,” he declared. “But at least our voice is heard in London. Wouldn’t it be wiser to seek a better understanding with the king’s ministers, rather than merely provoke them?”
    For a moment or two, the Boston man was silent, and John even wondered if he might have gained a point. But no such luck.
    “When we met before,” the lawyer finally said, making it clear the memory gave him no pleasure, “it was the time of the Zenger trial.”
    “I remember Zenger.”
    “That was a question of principle.”
    “Indeed.”
    “Well, so is this.” Eliot Master began to turn away.
    “Will you call upon us before you leave?” John offered. “My wife would be—”
    But Eliot was already in motion.
    “I don’t think so,” he said.

    The Philadelphia congress went speedily to its work. But if John Master had hoped for judicious compromise, he was sadly disappointed.
    “They’ve gone mad,” he cried, when he heard what they had decided. “Boston is to take up arms against the mother country? What became of moderation and good sense?” And when the men supporting the congress called themselves Patriots, he said: “How can you be a Patriot when you’re disloyal to your king and country?”
    It was at this time that he began consciously to refer to himself by another term he’d heard.
    “If they are Patriots,” he declared, “then I’m a Loyalist.”
    But the tide was against him. Decent men like Beekman and Roosevelt were taking the Patriot side. Even John Jay, a man of good sense, who’d always declared that those who own the country ought to run it, had been convinced. “I don’t like it any more than you,” he told Master on his return, “but I don’t think we can do anything else.”
    In the city, the Assembly was getting weaker by the day. The Sons of Liberty were triumphant. The smaller craftsmen had formed their own Mechanics Committee. Master heard that Charlie White was on it. Andnow they and the Liberty Boys told the Assembly: “We’ll make sure the congress is obeyed in New York. Not you.”
    “Do you really want to exchange a Parliament—which I grant you is inept—for an illegal congress and the tyranny of the mob?” Master demanded of John Jay. “You can’t have the city run by men like Charlie White.”
    Besides this, there was also another, obvious consideration. If the colonies moved toward rebellion, London would have to react. With force.

    John Master was walking up Broadway toward Trinity one day when he saw a clergyman he knew. The clergyman was a scholarly gentleman who taught at King’s College. The previous week this learned divine had published a firm but reasoned statement of the Loyalist case that John had considered admirable, and so he went up to thank him. The clergyman was clearly delighted, but taking John by the arm he also told him: “You must do your part too, you know.”
    “In what way?”
    “You must lead, Master. You’re a respected man in the city. Jay and his like are going to the dogs. If sound men like you don’t take the lead, then who will?”
    “But apart from Trinity vestry, I’ve never taken any public position,” John objected.
    “So much the better. You can step forward as an honest man, impelled only by a sense of duty. Tell me this, how many of the larger city merchants would you say are loyal, at present?”
    “Perhaps half, I’d guess.”
    “And the smaller traders and better sort of craftsman?”
    “Harder to say. Less than half—but many of those may be persuadable.”
    “Precisely. Somebody has to give them backbone. You could do it—if you have the courage.” And seeing Master look uncertain, he went on eagerly: “There are farmers upriver and out on Long Island who would rally to the cause. Most of the Queens County men, to my knowledge, are Loyalists. Even the poorer sort in the city can be led back to reason. All is not lost. I urge you, Master, search your conscience and do your duty.”
    John returned home, somewhat flattered, but uncertain. He discussed it with Mercy.
    “Thee must follow what thy conscience tells thee,” she said. “And I shall be at thy side.”
    He thought about it for a week. Then he went to work. He started inviting not only merchants to his house, but spread the net wider, to any honest traders and craftsmen whom he thought might like a return to order. He took the Brooklyn ferry, and rode out to solid Dutch farmers who had no patience with the