American colonists had to submit, there were other troubles which
you must try to understand. The French and Indian War had cost a
great deal of money, which had to be paid. It was also needful to
take steps to arrange for the government of the new territory, and
especially to defend it, for the British knew that the French and
Spaniards would like to get it back.
Now, King William's War, Queen Anne's War, and King George's War had
been waged because England and France were fighting in Europe. They
had done no good to the colonists, who, even after furnishing men
and money, and winning Louisburg, saw it given back to the French.
It was different, though, with the fourth war, which was begun in
America, while Great Britain furnished men, money, and arms to
defend the colonies. The colonies had done their best to help, and
the American soldiers, whom the British mockingly called "Yankee
Doodles," had shown great courage.
Franklin tried to arrange matters of taxation by his plan of
government, which, you remember, was set aside at Albany (1754). The
colonies refused it because they said it gave too much power to the
king; and the king refused to accept it because it gave too much
power to the colonies.
King George's advisers now told him that as Great Britain had run
into debt fighting in America, it was only right that the colonies
should help to pay the money. They added that it would be necessary
to keep an army in America to defend the new-won lands, and that
the colonies ought to feed and pay these soldiers.
If Great Britain had asked the colonies, "Will you support an army?"
they might perhaps have consented. But instead of letting the
Americans talk the matter over and raise the money in any way they
pleased, measures were taken by Parliament to raise a large sum,
which the king was to use in providing for a standing army.
At that time, many of the British were dissatisfied, too, for the
members of the House of Commons no longer represented the whole
nation. New cities like Bir´ming-ham, Man´ches-ter, and Leeds had
no right to vote at all, while a few tumble-down places, which had
been towns two hundred years before, still sent several members to
Parliament. Pitt and some other statesmen said that a new census
ought to be taken, and that the House of Commons should represent
all the people of Great Britain; but the king, among others, thought
things ought to remain just as they were.
The two parties were still quarreling over this when the question
about America came up, and it was greatly because the British were
not fairly represented that unjust laws were made. To raise the
money, Parliament decreed that the colonies would have to keep the
trade and navigation laws, and pay a tax upon sugar and molasses,
and that no newspaper should be printed or deed written except on
paper stamped by government officers. This was called the "Stamp
Act."
As soon as Pitt heard that the Stamp Act had been passed, he
said it was wrong to tax the colonies without their consent. But
Parliament would not listen to him. In those days, vessels crossed
the Atlantic only once a month. There was no telegraph, no daily
newspapers, and the post between large cities like Philadelphia
and New York ran only twice or thrice a week. It therefore took
some time before the news of the passing of the Stamp Act became
generally known in America.
Franklin, who was then in England, did his best to hinder the making
of such an unjust law. He was once asked whether the Americans
would be angry; and, hoping to make the British understand how
unreasonable they were, he told them this story: A Frenchman once
came running out of his house with a red-hot poker. He grasped an
Englishman, passing by, and said: "Let me run this poker through
you!" Of course the Englishman declined. Then the Frenchman said:
"Well, let me at least run it a few inches into your body." But when
the Englishman again refused, the Frenchman said, in an aggrieved
way: "If you won't let me do either, you should at least pay for the
trouble of heating this poker!"
Still, all Franklin's tact and good sense could not prevent the law
being passed, and he sadly wrote home: "The sun of liberty is set;
the Americans must light the lamp of industry and economy."
LIX. THE ANGER OF THE COLONIES.
Most Americans were not ready to take things so quietly as Franklin.
Indeed, as soon as the news of the Stamp Act became known, there was
great excitement. Bells were tolled, and every one looked sad. In
Virginia, Patrick Henry arose in the House of Burgesses, and made
a fiery speech which convinced the people that it would be wrong
and cowardly to yield. In his speech he said that tyranny must be
resisted, and added: "Cæsar had his Brutus, Charles I. his Cromwell,
and George III.--" "Treason! Treason!" cried some of the members who
were friends of the king. But Patrick Henry went firmly on, "may
profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it!"
[Illustration: Patrick Henry's Speech.]
His speech fairly carried the people away, and when he concluded it
by saying: "Give me liberty, or give me death," the Virginians drew
up a set of resolutions saying that they had the same rights as the
people in Great Britain, that they could be taxed only by their
assemblies, and that they would not allow any one else to tax them.
In North Carolina, John Ashe said: "This law will be resisted in
blood and death." This opinion was so general that Massachusetts
suggested that a general "Stamp Act Congress" should be held in New
York, in 1765. All but four colonies were represented in it, and six
of them drew up a paper saying that as British subjects they could
be taxed only by their own consent, and that as they had no members
in Parliament, they would not obey that body.
This paper was called the "Declaration of Rights," and they added to
it another, saying that there were five things they had to complain
about. These were: being taxed without their consent, being tried
in some cases without a jury, being hampered in their trading, and
being asked to pay the sugar tax and the stamp tax.
Men everywhere began thinking how they could keep their rights, and
formed companies called "Sons of Liberty." These bands visited the
men chosen to sell the stamped paper, and sternly warned them not
to try to do so unless they wished to be treated like traitors.
The result was that, so far as is now known, not a single sheet of
stamped paper was ever sold in America. Indeed, when the day came
when they were to have been first used, a Pennsylvania newspaper
appeared with the heading, "No stamped paper to be had."
The excitement was such that even the children marched up and down
like their elders, crying, "Liberty, Property, and No Stamps!" or
even such hard words as "Taxation without representation is tyranny."
As we have already seen, there were many people in Great Britain
who thought the Stamp Act unjust. Two great men, Burke and Pitt,
openly said so; and when the news came that the Americans refused to
obey, the latter exclaimed: "I rejoice that America has resisted.
Three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty as
voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments
to make slaves of all the rest."
The British minister, Gren´ville, now sent for Franklin, and asked
whether he thought the Americans would pay the stamp tax if it were
less. But Franklin said: "No; never! They will never submit to it;"
and went on to explain that it was not a question of more or less
money, but a question of right and wrong.
As the Americans declared they would not buy a single thing from the
British until their rights were respected, British vessels soon went
home with unsold cargoes, and British merchants loudly cried that
their business was ruined. These complaints, added to the colonists'
determined resistance, made Parliament repeal, or call back, the
Stamp Act, six months after it was to be enforced.
The stamps which were never used were stored away in a room in the
House of Parliament. Here they lay forgotten for many a year, and
when they were finally unearthed again, they were either given away
as curiosities or destroyed.
The news of the repeal of the Stamp Act set the Americans almost
crazy with joy. Bells were rung, bonfires lighted, and speeches
made. In New York the people were so happy that they erected a new
liberty pole, and made a big leaden statue of King George, which
they set up on Bowling Green.
LX. THE BOSTON TEA PARTY.
In their joy the colonists did not at first notice that Parliament,
in repealing the Stamp Act, still claimed the right to tax the
colonies "in all cases whatsoever." But the very next year
Parliament passed what are known in history as the "Townshend Acts,"
from the man who proposed them. These laws, besides forcing the
colonists to feed the king's troops and keep the trade law, placed a
tax on glass, paint, tea, and a few other things.
The money raised by these taxes was to be used partly for paying
the salaries of governors, judges, customhouse and other colonial
officers. Hitherto, the colonies had paid the salaries of governors
and judges themselves, and they said that, while it might be all
right to let a good king be paymaster, a bad king might make
them very uncomfortable by sending out governors like Andros and
Berkeley, who, being paid by him, would care only to please him.
Urged on by the Massachusetts people, all the colonies wrote to
Great Britain that they would not buy any British goods until the
taxes were removed. The king, offended by the letters sent him,
ordered the governors to dissolve the colonial assemblies again
and again; but he could not prevent the Americans from talking and
thinking as they pleased. When his troops began to come, men, women,
and children scowled at them, openly calling them "lobsters" and
"bloody-backs" because they wore red coats.
As the Massachusetts people talked loudest, and urged the other
colonies to resist, King George sent General Gage to Boston with two
regiments. They came into the city on Sunday morning, with flags
flying and drums beating, a thing which greatly shocked the good
Puritans.
[Illustration: The "Boston Massacre".]
The presence of British soldiers in America greatly annoyed the
people. They daily grew more and more angry about it, and before
long a small fight took place between soldiers and citizens, at
Golden Hill, in the city of New York. Two months later, in the midst
of the excitement caused by a false alarm of fire in Boston, a
British soldier, annoyed by the taunts and snowballs of a mob, shot
a man. This became the signal for more firing, which killed five men
and wounded a few others (1770).
The excitement caused in the city by the "Boston Massacre," or the
"Bloody Massacre," as it is known, in history, proved very great.
Although the principal men in Boston knew the soldiers had not
been greatly to blame for what had happened, they saw that there
would be more trouble unless the troops left the town. Samuel
Ad´ams, therefore, explained this to the governor, who asked him
if the people would be satisfied if he sent one regiment away.
Adams answered that he would find out, but, going to the Old South
Meetinghouse, where the patriots were assembled, he passed up the
aisle, whispering to his friends right and left: "Both regiments or
none."
[Illustration: Faneuil Hall.]
When Adams reached the platform, and told the people what the
governor had said, his friends loudly cried: "Both regiments or
none!" The rest of the people shouted the same thing. So the
governor, much against his will, was forced to place the soldiers on
an island in the bay. But after that, when mentioning those troops,
King George spitefully called them "Sam Adams's regiments."
The removal of the soldiers quieted the Boston people a little;
still, they often met in Faneuil (fan´el) Hall, where such stirring
patriotic speeches were made that the building is often called the
"Cradle of Liberty."
The people had said they would not buy anything from Great Britain
until the taxes were removed; so, when tea ships came over, their
cargoes were either sent back, stored in damp cellars, or destroyed.
The British merchants complained about this, and the king himself,
who was interested in the tea company, soon found he was losing
money, too. He therefore proposed that the price of tea should be
reduced, so that even after the tax of threepence a pound was paid,
tea would be cheaper than ever before. But this made no difference
to the colonists. The question with them was not cheap tea, but
untaxed tea.
To prevent any one from buying any of this tea, all the ports were
carefully watched; but finally three ships entered Boston harbor
with strict orders to land their cargoes. As the governor would not
send the ships back, and insisted that the king's orders should be
carried out, Samuel Adams finally said, in a large assembly: "This
meeting can do nothing more to save the country."
This was evidently a secret signal, for a voice immediately asked in
an innocent way: "Will tea mix with sea water?" In reply some one
shouted: "Boston harbor for a teapot to-night! Hurrah for Griffin's
wharf!" The crowd now poured out of the Old South, and on reaching
the street saw a band of men, disguised as Indians, rushing toward
the pier. These make-believe Indians took possession of the dock,
boarded the three ships, broke open the tea chests with their
tomahawks, and poured their contents into the harbor, which thus
became a monster teapot at Boston's famous Tea Party.
The Indians were careful, however, not to touch anything else, and
when their work was done, they quickly vanished. Still, they were so
honest that a padlock, broken by mistake, was secretly replaced by a
new one on the next day. It is said that the tide the next morning
left heaps of damp tea leaves on the beach. Some was put in bottles
and kept, in memory of Boston's Tea Party; but the rest of it was
either thrown back into the water or burned, so that no one should
be tempted to touch it.
[Illustration: The Boston Tea Party.]
LXI. THE MINUTEMEN.
Upon hearing the news of the Boston Tea Party Parliament made five
harsh laws to punish the Bostonians. These were that no ships should
be allowed to come in or go out of their port until they had paid
for the tea; that the governor could send any one he pleased to
England for trial; that the charter of Massachusetts was to be taken
away; that the colonists should receive and feed the troops; and
that the province of Quebec should be extended to the Ohio, thus
including the western lands claimed by Massachusetts.
The Bostonians said they could not, and would not, stand these five
laws, which they called the "five intolerable acts." The other
colonies declared that the Bostonians were right, and promised to
help them resist; so it was decided that delegates from all the
colonies should meet at Philadelphia, in 1774, to act together.
All the colonies except Georgia sent delegates to this First
Continental Congress. They met in Carpenter's Hall, in Philadelphia,
and decided to print and circulate papers explaining to the
colonies, to the Canadians, and to the British people their causes
of complaint. They also drew up a declaration of rights and an
address to the king.
Samuel Adams, who is often called the "Father of the Revolution,"
wrote this petition to the king; and his young daughter, seeing the
paper, cried: "Only think of it; that paper will soon be in the
king's hand!" But her father dryly answered: "My dear, it will more
likely be spurned by the royal foot!"
[Illustration: PART OF THE NORTHERN STATES
COUNTRY AROUND BOSTON]
There were many noted men among the fifty-five members of the First
Continental Congress. Franklin had come home to take part in it,
after having patiently tried to make peace with the Englishmen,
who insulted him. While Congress was in session, some one asked
Patrick Henry who was the leading man there, and he answered: "If
you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rut´ledge of South Carolina is by far
the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information, Colonel
Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on the floor!"
Before separating, this congress decided that another should
assemble the next year to hear King George's answer to their
petition, and to discuss what steps should next be taken. But
although Congress was dismissed, the colonies, in spite of the bad
postal arrangements of the age, kept up a lively correspondence.
Patrick Henry, on his return home, told the Virginia convention
what had been done, and concluded an eloquent speech by saying: "We
must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and
the God of hosts is all that is left us." And in South Carolina the
patriots loudly echoed the sentiments of their delegate, showing
that "three million brave Americans, scattered over three thousand
miles, had but one soul."
This was the opinion of patriots everywhere, and, feeling that they
might soon be called upon to maintain their rights, they formed
companies and drilled regularly. One of these bands of militia was
formed in Virginia, where Washington said: "I shall very cheerfully
accept the honor of commanding it, if occasion requires it to be
drawn out." In New England many similar regiments were drilled, and
as these volunteer soldiers were to be ready to start at a moment's
notice, they were known as "minutemen."
The women were quite as patriotic as the men. They gave up tea and
all other imported goods, and began to spin and weave with such
energy that they and their families soon wore nothing but homespun.
Even at a ball, in Virginia, the ladies wore rough cloth of their
own manufacture, rather than purchase cloth, silk, and lace from
England.
[Illustration: Statue of Minuteman.]
As Boston suffered most of all, the other colonies showed their
sympathy by sending all the supplies they could by land. Indeed,
neighboring places, such as Mar-ble-head´ and Salem, even offered to
let Boston merchants use their port free of charge.
Instead of answering the "olive branch" petition sent by the
colonies, King George told General Gage, governor of Massachusetts,
to bring the people to order as soon as possible. But Gage soon saw
that the colonists were too angry to yield tamely, and all he dared
do was to stop their meetings and to fortify Boston Neck.
But meetings were held in spite of him, for the principal Bostonians
went to Cambridge, where they formed a Committee of Safety. This was
to watch the movements of the British, collect arms and ammunition,
and see that the minutemen were always ready for duty. For every one
now felt that the fight must soon break out, although neither party
wished to begin it.
LXII. THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON.
General Gage knew that the patriots were collecting supplies, and
he was determined to seize them if he could. But there were good
patriots in Boston who were watching him closely, and they had
agreed to warn their friends of any danger, by means of lanterns
hung up in the tower of the Old North Church.
[Illustration: Paul Revere's Ride.]
Two lights in the tower, one night, notified the people of
Charlestown that the British were moving, and the minutemen on guard
scattered to rouse their fellow-soldiers. Paul Re-vere´, among
others, dashed off on horseback, narrowly escaping capture by the
British, who were guarding all the roads. As he galloped rapidly
on, he roused the people by crying: "The British are coming!"
Finally he reached Lex´ing-ton, about nine miles from Boston. Here
Samuel Adams and John Hancock had both taken refuge, because Gage
wanted to seize and ship them off to England, to be tried there for
treason.
The clatter made by Revere roused the sleeping patriots, and
when one of them asked what all this noise meant, Revere quickly
answered: "Noise! You'll have noise enough before long. The regulars
are coming!" Just then the window opened, and Hancock called Revere
in. Soon after Revere rode rapidly on again to warn Concord,
Massachusetts, while Adams began cleaning his gun to join in the
fight. But Hancock stopped his companion, saying that it was their
duty, as members of the Council, to plan and think, instead of
fighting.
The alarm enabled the patriots to conceal most of their arms and
stores, and when the British soldiers arrived in Lexington, soon
after sunrise on April 19, 1775, they found about seventy minutemen
drawn up on the green. The leader of the minutemen bade them "Stand
firm! Don't fire until you are fired at. But if they want war, let
it begin right here."
The British officer, at the head of about three hundred men, now
loudly cried: "Disperse, ye rebels! Disperse!" Then, as they did not
obey, he drew his pistols. Who fired first is a question which has
never been settled, but a few minutes later seven American patriots
lay on the ground dead, and the rest were obliged to retreat.
The British now marched on to Concord, where they began to destroy
the stores. Although they had fancied the patriots would offer no
more resistance, they soon found they were mistaken. The minutemen
were assembling as fast as they could, and Dr. Warren addressed
those at Lexington, saying: "Keep up a brave heart. They have begun
it--that either party can do; and we'll end it--that only we can do."
[Illustration: The Retreat from Concord.]
The British guard at the Concord bridge was now attacked. Hearing
shots in that direction, the British hurried back, to find their men
falling rapidly beneath the fire of the minutemen. The latter were
posted behind every bush, tree, barn, and stone wall all along the
road, so that the British had to retreat between two lines of fire.
Bewildered by the constant shots of enemies they could not see,
the British soldiers soon broke ranks and rushed blindly on, never
pausing to take breath until they met new forces at Lexington,
which covered their retreat. There the fugitives fell to the ground
exhausted and panting, their tongues hanging out of their mouths
from heat and thirst. After they recovered a little, the British,
who had marched out of Charlestown that morning playing "Yankee
Doodle" to vex the patriots, were only too thankful to beat a
retreat. When they reached their fortifications at sundown they
had lost about three hundred men, while only eighty-eight of the
patriots had fallen.
The Revolutionary War had begun, and the day after the battle
of Lexington the Massachusetts Congress wrote to England: "We
determine to die or be free." The news of the first bloodshed was
rapidly carried from place to place by men on horseback. They went
everywhere, calling the people to arms. Guns were polished and
bullets cast, the women sacrificing even cherished pewter spoons and
dishes to supply the necessary ammunition.
The call to arms found Israel Putnam--a hero of the last French and
Indian War--plowing in his field. Unyoking his oxen from the plow,
Putnam bade a lad run for his coat and gun, while he saddled his
horse. He then rode quickly away to take part in the struggle, which
was to last about seven years. Two other patriots, John Stark from
New Hampshire, and Benedict Arnold from Connecticut, were equally
prompt in responding to this appeal, and it is said that in less
than three days, sixteen thousand Americans were assembled around
Boston, completely hemming in General Gage and the British troops.
LXIII. BUNKER HILL.
The news of the battles at Lexington and Concord, where, as
Em´er-son says, was "fired the shot heard round the world," traveled
with remarkable speed to Ver-mont´. There the Green Mountain Boys
quickly sprang to arms, and, under Ethan Allen, their leader,
marched on to Fort Ticonderoga. This place was in the hands of the
British, and contained large stores of arms and ammunition, which
the Americans coveted.