the more stirring attributes of the great city, and all of its life. Dorchester then had several hundred inhabitants. The plan of the place lies before us now—a regularly laid out city, of perfect squares, with its market-place, its hotels, and its churches; its busy wharves, and its little craft of sloop and schooner, lying at anchor, or skimming along the clear bosom of the Ashley. It had its garrison also, and not the smallest portion of its din and bustle arose from the fine body of red-coated and smartly-dressed soldiers then occupying the square fort of tapia-work, which to this day stands upon the hill of Dorchester—just where the river bends in with a broad sweep to the village site—in a singular state of durability and preservation.
This fort commanded the river and village alike. The old bridge of Dorchester, which crossed the Ashley at a little distance above it, was also within its range. The troops at frequent periods paraded in the market-place, and every art was made use of duly to impress upon the people the danger of any resistance to a power so capable to annoy and to punish. This being the case, it was amusing to perceive how docile, how loyal indeed, are those inhabitants, who, but a few weeks before were in arms against their present rulers and who now only wait a convenient season to resume the weapons which policy had persuaded them to lay aside.
None of the villagers were more dutiful or devout in their allegiance than Richard Humphries—Old Dick, sly Dick—Holy Dick, as his neighbours capriciously styled him—who kept the "Royal George," then the high tavern of the village. The fat, beefy face of the good-natured Hanoverian hung in yellow before the tavern door, on one of the two main roads leading from the country through the town. The old monarch had, in this exposed situation, undergone repeated trials. At the commencement of the Revolution, the landlord, who, after the proverbial fashion of landlords in all countries, really cared not who was king, had been compelled by public opinion to take down the sign and replace it with another more congenial to the popular feeling. George, in the mean time, was assigned less conspicuous lodgings in an ancient garret. The change of circumstances restored the venerable portrait to its place; and under the eyes of the British garrison, there were few more
