On the morning of September 27, the newly-formed Body of the People moved towards the old Court House at Barnstable. They were afoot and on horseback, with the horsemen in the lead, and through every village they passed their number was swelled. When they passed the home of Chief Justice Otis they respectfully raised their hats in salute and preceded him to the Court where, 1500 strong, they awaited the opening of Court. The air at Rendezvous Lane must have been charged with suspense and expectancy when, at last, the Chief Justice and his aides, led by the Sheriff, complete with drawn sword and staff of office, approached the unprecedented group who blocked their passage to the Court House door. Justice Otis, upon ascertaining the business of the group, ordered them to disperse. Through their leader, Nathaniel Freeman of Sandwich, they replied, “We thank your honor for having done your duty; we shall continue to perform ours.” And continue they did, until the Justice left the scene and it was established that there would be no session. Before the day was over the patriot band had furthermore obtained written agreement from the Justices that they would not carry out the objectionable Act of Parliament that had inspired the march. If the Body of the People became the Cape’s first picket line, it was also the most orderly one anywhere at any time. In their preparations for the march on Barnstable they had ruled against the use of profanity and alcohol. They were well-disciplined, and entirely under the control of their democratically-chosen leaders. The group at Rendezvous Lane on the September morning was no “rabble in arms”; it consisted of some of the truly great men of the Colony, making an effective, but respectful, protest against an injustice which threatened the freedoms for which they had crossed the broad Atlantic. It was like the men of the Cape to settle their own problems in their own way. Two years later the Colonies adopted the Declaration of Independence. Cape Codders had chosen their way at the little white church in Barnstable. From the window of my old house at West Dennis I look out over the blue Cove of Bass River to where the white Captain’s Church rises on the hill at South Dennis. It is bright and peaceful and meaningful. In summer it is framed by the lacy branches of elm trees on the near shore; in winter it is a beacon of light in a gray landscape. I have watched the purple shadows of night slide softly from its sides in the spring sunrise; and I have watched an autumn sunset gild its steeple with burnished gold. It is good to have it there, where it has stood and looked across the Cove for over a century.