There was one redeeming feature about the disturbances in Stockbridge.
The early bedtime habits of the people were too deeply fixed to be
affected by any political revolution, and however noisy the streets
might be soon after dusk, by half past nine or ten all was quiet. As
Perez crossed the green, after leaving the store, the only sound that
broke the stillness of the night, was the rumble of wheels on the
Boston road. It was Sedgwick's carriage, bearing him back to the
capital, to take his seat in the already convened State Senate. If his
flying visit home had been a failure so far as his law business before
the Supreme Court was concerned, it had at least enabled him to gain a
vivid conception of the extent and virulence of the insurrection.
There was really a good deal more than a joke in calling Perez, Duke
of Stockbridge. The antechamber of the headquarters room, at the
guardhouse, was often half full of a morning with gentlemen, and those
of lower degree as well, waiting to see him with requests. Some wanted
passes, or authority to go out of town, or carry goods away. Others
had complaints of orchards robbed, property stolen, or other injuries
from the lawless, with petitions for redress.
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