Although the war between the United States and Britain had ended, the aftereffects of war were only just beginning.
New York State had always been one of the most populous states in the United States. Now, millions of people were wandering across the lands of the American north.
Whenever they found a village or town, the tide of refugees swarmed around it like a hive of bees, sealing it off so tightly that not even water could pass through. Such northern towns usually had only a few hundred households, sometimes only a few dozen.
Not all the refugees were penniless. Many had dug up the savings they had buried in their cellars. Bread, grain, meat, vegetables, even salted fish that had been sitting around for ages—so long as it was edible, someone was willing to pay for it.
For the merchants in those small towns, this was an opportunity unlike any they had ever seen. Old Baldwin's general store was the first to raise its prices.
"Hey! Listen up! Flour and meat are almost sold out. If you don't buy now, there'll be nothing left to buy! Whoever pays more gets to eat. It gets damned cold at night—if you don't fill your belly, you'll freeze to death!"
After old Baldwin's round of smooth talk, his business became even more booming. The people clutching money to buy goods could not be driven away no matter how hard he tried.
The profits were beyond outrageous. The price of one item was worth what dozens would normally cost. When the neighboring shops saw this, they began raising prices as well. Flour that had once cost two or three cents a pound had now risen to fifty cents.
"Damn profiteer! You'll die a horrible death!"
Though the homeless people cursed without stopping, they