Without warning, the bell at city hall began to toll, solemnly as if accompanying a funeral procession. The white women looked at each other with confusion. They could hear the rumble of a wagon and heads swiveled searching for it. Shopkeepers emerged from their storefronts. Patrons at the waterfront taverns sauntered into the street, mugs in hand. Hands were raised to brow, shielding squinting eyes from the sun as what seemed as if all of Annapolis scanned the street.
A small cart pulled by a sad little mule emerged from around the corner. A not-so-small group of men crowded around the vehicle, Bede recognized Mr. Paca, Mr. Green, and Sam's owner who had traveled from Philadelphia, without Sam this time. Sweat poured in rivers down their reddened cheeks, wigs were askew, queues were slipping. They struggled in the heat, but they would not be deterred. Inside the cart was a wooden effigy, around its neck a sign STAMP COLLECTOR. Bede could read that. Mr. Cope sat in the cart holding the effigy in place.
As they rattled past, Mrs. Green grabbed her husband's arm and pulled him apart from the others. "What is happening?" Bede heard panic in her voice.
"Go home Anne!" Mr. Green demanded breaking from her clutches and rejoining the men.
A growing parade settled into procession. Mrs. Green jumped in with determination, she was not going home. Miss Elizabeth and Mrs. Lanham joined as well. Bede stayed just a step back, but followed with trepidation as the mob made its way to State House Hill. Once there, the effigy was stuffed into the pillory while a group of men began a construction of some sort nearby.
Bede tried to make sense of the cacophony around her. Mr. Paca stood tall on a box brought forth and declared England had encroached too far on Maryland's right to govern herself. Mr. Green stepped up next, violently lamenting the need to shut down the Maryland Gazette. Bede saw Mrs. Green flinch. It seemed she had not expected her husband's announcement.
Bede's attention returned to the growing construction project nearby. It was a gibbet. She felt a hard knot form in her stomach and her chest tightened. She tried to inhale a deep breath, but the humid August air was nearly unbreathable. She watched as the Stamp Collector was pulled from the pillory and hoisted up by its neck. The crowd roared with approval as it swung.
In an instant Bede was on her hands and knees on the ground, her new hat askew. She struggled to get up, but was pushed off balance by unseeing humanity as they shoved their way closer to the hanging tax collector. When she finally regained her feet, she found she was far separated from Miss Elizabeth and the ladies. They too were being violently jostled, clinging to each with panic clear in their eyes.
She could run.
And this time she could make it work.
A tar barrel was rolled into place under the tax collector. Within minutes fire sprang from it, lighting the tax collector. The crowd let up a massive cheer as the effigy burned and the mass of people moved to get closer to the victim. Again, Bede was shoved among the stinking throng of sweating protestors. Her basket long lost, she shoved back with both hands and all of her weight and she moved against the crowd away from the mock execution.
"Bede!" She heard Miss Elizabeth's terrified scream and instinctively turned back. Henry was gathering her mistress and the others into a small bundle and trying to get them to a safer place. Miss Elizabeth was reaching toward Bede as if to pull her into their safety. But the crowd pressed the women in opposite directions and within mere moments, they had lost sight of each other.
She turned and continued her press against the crowd. Her chest heaved and her face burned as she battled both people and the heat. She felt a brief rip at the waist of her skirt and later at her shoulder. She cared not. She kept pressing and pressing until she saw him.
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