They were beginning to see that their peace policy was costing untold human lives, amid scenes of unspeakable horror.
They let the woman speak in peace; they did not try to stop her utterances.

But when a brother Quaker took her place and began a similar harangue, the young men round raised a howl, and a voice cried out: "Duck him in the horse pond! Roll him in a barrel! Let him be tarred and feathered like an Indian, since he loves the scalping savages so well.

Who's got a tomahawk?
Let's see how they use them.
Does anybody know how they scalp their prisoners?
A Quaker would never miss his scalp; he always has his hat on!" A roar of laughter greeted this sally; and a rush was made for the unlucky orator, who showed a bold front enough to the mob.

But at that moment public attention was turned in a different direction by the appearing upon the steps of the Assembly Rooms of a well-known citizen of high repute, who had until latterly been one of the peace party, but who of late had made a resolute stand, insisting that something must be done for the protection of the western settlers, and for the curbing of the ambitious encroachments and preposterous claims of France.
This grave-faced citizen came out with some papers in his hand, and the crowd was hushed into silence.
Overhead anxious faces could be seen looking out at the window.

It was not by the wishes of the Assembly that such letters were made public; but many of them had been addressed to James Freeman himself, and they could not restrain him from doing as he would with his own.
"My friends," he said, and his voice rose distinct in the clear air, "we have heavy tidings today.