FootNote
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city directories, war records, newspapers, town records, etc... this new
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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
Thorough Understanding of the Principles of
Liberty by the People. The Stamp Act. How viewed by the
Colonists. Colden strengthens Fort George in Alarm. Arrival
of the Stamps. How the News was received by the Sons of
Liberty. A Bold Placard. Stamp Distributor frightened.
Patriotic Action of the Merchants. Public Demonstration
against the Stamp Act. Colden takes Refuge in the Fort. Dare
not fire on the People. The People at the Gate demand the
Stamps. Colden and Lord Bute hung in Effigy. Colden's Coach
house broken open. The Images placed in the Coach, and
dragged with Shouts through the Streets. Hung again in Sight
of the Fort. A Bonfire made of the Fence around Bowling
Green, and the Governor's Carriages, while the Garrison look
silently on. Prejudice against Coaches. Major James' House
sacked. Great Joy and Demonstration at the Repeal of the
Stamp Act. Celebration of the King's Birthday. Loyalty of
the People. Mutiny Act. A Riot becomes a Great Rebellion.
At the present day, when personal ambition takes the place
of patriotism, and love of principle gives way to love of
party; when the success of the latter is placed above
constitutional obligations and popular rights, one seems, as
he turns back to our early history, to be transported to
another age of the world, and another race of beings.
Nothing shows how thoroughly understood by the common people
were the principles of liberty, and with what keen
penetration they saw through all shams and specious
reasoning, than the decided, nay, fierce, stand they took
against the stamp act. This was nothing more than our
present law requiring a governmental stamp on all public and
business paper to make it valid. The only difference is, the
former was levying a tax without representation in other
words, without the consent of the governed. The colonies
assembled in Congress condemned it; hence the open, violent
opposition to it by the people rises above the level of a
common riot, and partakes more of the nature of a righteous
revolution. Still, it was a riot, and exhibited the lawless
features of one.
The news of the determination of the English Government to
pass a stamp act, raised a storm of indignation throughout
the colonies, from Massachusetts to South Carolina, and it
was denounced as an oppressive, unrighteous, tyrannical
measure. From the wayside tavern and the pulpit alike, it
was attacked with unsparing severity. The Government,
however, thought it a mere ebullition of feeling, that would
not dare exhibit itself in open opposition. Nor does this
confidence seem strong, when we remember the weakness of the
colonies on the one side, and the strength of an organized
government, with the law and force both, on the other.
Cadwallader Colden, a Scotchman by birth, and a clergyman by
profession, was at that time acting Governor of New York;
and to guard against any resort to force on the part of the
people when the stamps should arrive, had Fort George, on
the Battery, reinforced by a regiment from Crown Point, its
magazines replenished, the ramparts strengthened, and its
guns trained on the town. The people saw all this, and
understood its import; but it had the opposite effect from
that which was intended, for, instead of overawing the
people, it exasperated them.
At length, in October, 1765, a ship with the British colors
flying came sailing up the bay, and anchored off Fort
George. In a short time the startling tidings was
circulated, that she brought a quantity of stamps. It was
like sounding an alarm bell, and the streets became thronged
with excited men, while all the provincial vessels in the
harbor lowered their colors to half mast, in token of
mourning. In anticipation of this event, an organization of
men had been formed, called "Sons of Liberty." They at once
assembled, and resolved at all hazards to get hold of those
stamps. They had caused the act itself to be hawked about
the streets as "the folly of England and the ruin of
America," and now they determined to measure their strength
with the Governor of the colony. That night, when the town
was wrapped in slumber, they quietly affixed on the doors of
every public office and on corners of the streets, the
following placard:
Pro Patria.
The first man that either distributes or makes use of
stamped paper, let him take care of his house, person, and
effects.
Vox Populi.
"We Dare."
To the stamp distributors they said, "Assure yourselves, the
spirit of Brutus and Cassius is yet alive. We will not
submit to the stamp act upon any account or in any
instance."
McEvers, the head stamp distributor, frightened by the bold,
determined attitude of the people, refused to receive the
stamps, and Golden had them sent for greater safety to Fort
George. He had written, to the British Secretary, " I am
resolved to have the stamps distributed_." But the people
were equally resolved they should not be. Still, on the 30th
day of October, he and all the royal governors took the oath
to carry the stamp act into effect; but they soon discovered
that they could find no one bold enough to act as
distributor. All along the sea coast, in every part of the
colonies, the people were aroused, and either assembling
quietly, or called together by the ringing of bells and
firing of cannon, presented such a united, determined front,
that not one person remained duly commissioned to distribute
stamps. On the last day of October, the merchants of New
York came together, and bound themselves to "send no new
orders for goods or merchandise, to countermand all former
orders, and not even receive goods on commission, unless the
stamp act be repealed" that is, give up commerce at once,
with all its wealth and benefits, rather than submit to a
tax of a few shillings on paper.
Friday, the 1st of November, was the day fixed upon for a
public demonstration of the people throughout the colonies
against it, and never dawned a morning more pregnant with
the fate not only of a nation, but of the world.
From New Hampshire to South Carolina it was ushered in by
the tolling of muffled bells, the firing of minute guns, and
flags hung at half mast. Eulogies were pronounced on
liberty, and everywhere people left their shops and fields,
and gathered in excited throngs to discuss the great
question of taxation.
"Even the children at their games, though hardly able to
speak, caught up the general chorus, and went along the
streets, merrily carolling: 'Liberty, Property, and no
Stamps.'" [Footnote: Bancroft.]
In New York the uprising was terrific, for the population
rushed together as one man as Gage, the commander of Fort
George said, "by thousands."
The sailors flocked in from the vessels, the farmers from
the country, and the shouts, and ringing of bells, and
firing of cannon made the city fairly tremble. Colden was
terrified at the storm that was raised, and took refuge in
the fort. An old man, bent and bowed with the weight of
eighty years, he tottered nervously to the shelter of its
guns, and ordered up a detachment of marines from a ship of
war in port, for his protection. In his indignation, he
wanted to fire on the people, and the black muzzles of the
cannon pointing on the town had an ominous look. Whether he
had threatened to do so by a message, we do not know; at any
rate, the people either suspected his determination or got
wind of it, for during the day an unknown person handed in
at the fort gate a note, telling him if he did, the people
would hang him, like Porteus of Edinburgh, on a sign post.
He wisely forebore to give the order, for if he had not, his
gray hairs would have streamed from a gibbet.
At length the day of turmoil wore away, and night came on,
but with it came no diminution of the excitement. Soon as it
was dark, the "Sons of Liberty," numbering thousands, surged
tumultuously up around the fort, and demanded that the
stamps should be given up that they might be destroyed.
Golden bluntly refused, when with loud, defiant shouts they
left, and went up Broadway to "the field" (the present
Park), where they erected a gibbet, and hanged on it Colden
in effigy, and beside him a figure holding a boot; some said
to represent the devil, others Lord Bute, of whom the boot ,
by a pun on his name, showed for whom the effigy was
designed.
The demonstration had now become a riot, and the Sons of
Liberty degenerated into a mob. The feeling that had been
confined to words all day must now have some outlet. A
torchlight procession was formed, and the scaffold and
images taken down, and borne on men's shoulders along
Broadway towards the Battery. The glare of flaring lights on
the buildings and faces of the excited crowd, the shouts and
hurrahs that made night hideous, called out the entire
population, which gazed in amazement on the strange, wild
spectacle.
They boldly carried the scaffold and effigies to within a
few feet of the gate of the fort, and knocked audaciously
for admission. Isaac Sears was the leader of these "Sons of
Liberty."
Finding themselves unable to gain admittance, they went to
the Governor's carriage house, and took out his elegant
coach, and placing the two effigies in it, dragged it by
hand around the streets by the light of torches, amid the
jeers and shouts of the multitude. Becoming at last tired of
this amusement, they returned towards the fort, and erected
a second gallows, on which they hung the effigies the second
time.
All this time the cannon, shotted and primed, lay silent on
their carriages, while the soldiers from the ramparts looked
wonderingly, idly on. General Gage did not dare to fire on
the people, fearing they would sweep like an inundation over
the ramparts, when he knew a general massacre would follow.
The mob now tore down, the wooden fence that surrounded
Bowling Green, and piling pickets and boards together, set
them on fire. As the flames crackled and roared in the
darkness, they pitched on the Governor's coach, with the
scaffold and effigies; then hastening to his carriage house
again, and dragging out a one horse chaise, two sleighs, and
other vehicles, hauled them to the fire, and threw them on,
making a conflagration that illumined the waters of the bay
and the ships riding at anchor. This was a galling spectacle
to the old Governor and the British officers, but they dared
not interfere.
What was the particular animosity against those carriages
does not appear, though it was the only property of the
Governor they destroyed, unless they were a sign of that
aristocratic pride which sought to enslave them. There were,
at this time, not a half dozen coaches in the city, and they
naturally became the symbols of bloated pride. It is said
the feeling was so strong against them, that a wealthy
Quaker named Murray, who lived out of town, near where the
distributing reservoir now is, kept one to ride down town
in, yet dared not call it a coach, but a "leathern
convenience."
Although Sears and other leaders of the Sons of Liberty
tried to restrain the mob, their blood was now up, and they
were bent on destruction. Having witnessed the conflagration
of the Governor's carriages, they again marched up Broadway,
and some one shouting "James' house," the crowd took up the
shout, and passing out of the city streamed through the open
country, to where West Broadway now is, and near the corner
of Anthony Street. This James was Major in the Royal
Artillery, and had made himself obnoxious to the people by
taking a conspicuous part in putting the fort into a state
of defence. He had a beautiful residence here, which the mob
completely gutted, broke up his elegant furniture, destroyed
his library and works of art, and laid waste his ornamented
grounds. They then dispersed, and the city became quiet.
The excitement was, however, not quelled the people had not
yet got hold of the stamps, which they were determined to
have. Colden, having seen enough of the spirit of the "Sons
of Liberty," was afraid to risk another night, even in the
fort, unless it was in some way appeased; and so the day
after the riot, he had a large placard posted up, stating
that he should have nothing more to do with the stamps, but
would leave them with Sir Henry Moore, the newly appointed
Governor, then on his way from England.
This, however, did not satisfy the Sons of Liberty: they
wanted the stamps themselves, and through Sears, their
leader, insisted on their being given up telling him very
plainly if he did not they would storm the fort, and they
were determined to do it.
The Common Council of the city now became alarmed at the
ungovernable, desperate spirit of the mob, which seemed bent
on blood, and begged the Governor to let them be deposited
in the City Hall. To this he finally though reluctantly
consented, but the feeling in the city kept at fever heat,
and would remain so until the act itself was repealed.
Moore, the new Governor, soon arrived, and assumed the
reigns of government. The corporation offered him the
freedom of the city in a gold box, but he refused to receive
it, unless upon stamped paper. It was evident he was
determined to enforce the stamp act. But on consulting with
Colden and others, and ascertaining the true state of
things, he wisely abandoned his purpose, and soon made it
publicly known. To appease the people still more, he
dismantled the fort, which was peculiarly obnoxious to them
from the threatening attitude it had been made to assume.
Still, the infamous act was unrepealed, and the people
refused to buy English manufactures, and commerce
languished.
At length, Parliament, finding that further insistance in
carrying out the obnoxious act only worked mischief, had
repealed it. When the news reached New York, the most
unbounded joy was manifested. Bells were rung, cannon fired,
and placards posted, calling on a meeting of the citizens
the next day to take measures for celebrating properly the
great event. At the appointed time, the people came together
at Howard's Hotel, and forming a procession, marched gayly
to "the field," and right where the City Hall now stands,
then an open lot, a salute of twenty-one guns was fired. A
grand dinner followed, at which the Sons of Liberty feasted
and drank loyal toasts to his Majesty, and all went "merry
as a marriage bell." The city was illuminated, and bonfires
turned the night into day. In a few weeks, the King's
birthday was celebrated with great display. A huge pile of
wood was erected in the Park, and an ox roasted whole for
the people. Cart after cart dumped its load of beer on the
ground, till twenty-five barrels, flanked by a huge hogshead
of rum, lay in a row, presided over by men appointed to deal
out the contents to the populace. A boisterous demonstration
followed that almost drowned the roar of the twenty-one
cannon that thundered forth a royal salute. As a fitting
wind up to the bacchanalian scene, at night twenty-five tar
barrels, fastened on poles, blazed over the "common," while
brilliant fireworks were exhibited at Bowling Green. The
feasting continued late in the night, and so delighted were
the "Sons of Liberty," that they erected a mast, inscribed
"to his most gracious Majesty, George the Third, Mr. Pitt,
and Liberty." A petition was also signed to erect a statue
to Pitt, and the people seemed determined by this excess of
loyalty to atone for their previous rebellious spirit. The
joy, however, was of short duration the news of the riots
caused Parliament to pass a "mutiny act," by which troops
were to be quartered in America in sufficient numbers to put
down any similar demonstration in future, a part of the
expense of their support to be paid by the colonists
themselves. This exasperated "the Sons of Liberty", and they
met and resolved to resist this new act of oppression to the
last. The troops arrived in due time, and of course
collisions took place between them and the people. Matters
now continued to grow worse and worse, until the "riot of
the Sons of Liberty" became a revolution, which dismembered
the British Empire, and established this great republic, the
influence of which on the destiny of the world no one can
predict.
Great Riots of New York 1712 to 1873,
Including a Full and Complete Account of the
Four Days' Draft Riot of 1863
