1765.
Great Britain’s lords[2] were planning—
So ran the world’s report—
To tax the colonies more and more,[4]
And treat our sires as if they wore
The liveries at the court.
“The colonies’ hope is union,”
Said Franklin,[3] by and by;
“Not one of them that stands alone
Can hold its own against the throne.
We[3] join,” he wrote, “or die.”
And “Freedom[4] is a birthright
Our fathers handed down;
Blood-bought,” James Otis[4] boldly said:
“One king of theirs it cost his head;
And one his throne and crown.[5]
“Were we to lose it, England
Would share in our mishap[6];
For not a net can harm us here,
But threatens every English peer,
Whom yet it may entrap.
“Our laws are in our charters
For scores of years enjoy’d;
Nor has the King, or Parliament,
Or both without our own consent
The power to make them void.[5]
“By them, the Magna Charta,
And all our Saxon rights;
By claims of nature, mind, descent,
We ought to send to Parliament[7]
And show it what it slights.”
A protest then we sent it.[7]
But back came sail on sail;[8]
And less had leaves of law-books grave
Torn out and flung to wind and wave
Shown law could not prevail.
They broke up our assembly;[9]
Supreme their army[10] made;
Removed the judge[11] who check’d their greed;
And on the church our fathers freed
The hands of bishops laid.[12]
“Shall we, whose fathers won us
Our rights, abide their loss?
Nay,” Mayhew said;[13] “though these to take
Our Pharoah’s hosts of red-coats make
Blood-red the sea they cross.
“The Lord o’errules the waters,
And He will guard our cause:
And Parliament—let Plymouth Rock
To whelm them all throw back the shock—
Will bid the tyrant pause.”
“God guide the House of Commons,”
We cried with lifted eyes.
God guided it and us, alas,
But how He scorch’d our heaven to pass
His finger through the skies!
The Commons framed the Stamp-Act.[14]
It legal writs refused,
And made our bargains go for naught,
Unless, in all we sold or bought,
Their stamps were bought and used.
“The stamps are only vouchers,”
Wrote Green,[15] “to license knaves!”
“To tax, against their own consent,
Where none,” said Adams,[16] “represent
Our people, brands them slaves.”
“Our charter’d free assemblies,
To which our laws entrust[17]
The right to tax us, and to pay
Each crown-official,—only they
Can ever keep him just.”
Quoth Thomas Chase:[18] “They only!
But British agents curse
To find that our assemblies true
Have something nobler here to do
Than fill a noble’s purse.”
“The admiralty,” said Hancock,[21]
“To swell the navy’s pelf,
Have pass’d a law that it empowers[19]
To seek in every ship of ours
A bounty for itself.
“Would we dispute the seizure,
Our loss can be discuss’d
And righted but in England’s courts,[20]
And by a judge whom it supports;—
And that, they say, is just.
“No fleet of mine[21] shall carry
A stamp, though all I lose.
I choose, ere it, to save my soul!”
The whole land heard, and soon the whole
Had sworn no stamps to use.
New York had lived by commerce.
Her merchants vow’d, they all,[22]
Ere stamps they bought, would sail no boats,
And sell no goods, and pass no notes—
They would not live in thrall.
Said Isaac Sears:[23] “No wonder
These human lords combine
The masses’ rivalling wealth to steal!
Let them be stript, my lord may feel
His decency divine.
“For years, to gild the peerage
Have England’s ports been made[24]
The marts by law for all we bought.—
Alas! in what that we have wrought
Have they not check’d our trade?
“The nobles, while their winnings
Like nuggets clog the sieve
That ours drop through, would not eschew
Their royal rule: ‘To others do
What makes them humbly live.’
“And shall we not live humbly
Who but our pride restrain?
And buy at home more homely goods?”—
“Buy homespun!”[25] rang from bay to woods.
Then rang the looms[25] amain.
But keen and crafty tories,
They prowl’d around at night,
And plotted long, and bought and sold,
And hoax’d and coax’d the young and old
Their homespun league to slight.[26]
“We must not wait till England
Shall send the stamps,” wrote Edes.[27]
“Once let our tories own a few,
They soon were sown the whole land through
To grow like seeds of weeds.”
The Boston Stamp-man’s image
Men burn’d before his face.
Their roars, like thunder, threaten’d storm;
And torches flash’d; the air was warm;
The man resign’d his place.
“Resign!” erelong the echo
Had roll’d to every town.[28]
None dared resist the people’s plea,
And none dared hold a stamp, or be
The stamp-man of the crown.
“Our governors,” growl’d the tories,
“Will sell the stamps to us.”
The governors vow’d this course to take;[29]
But we, we vow’d, our lives the stake,
They should not thwart us thus.
The night before the Stamp-Act
Should rule the colony,
We slept not much; we melted lead;
We whetted steel; we plann’d ahead,
We “Sons of Liberty.”[30]
Then, when the morn was breaking,[31]
On every hill and plain,
In all the towns, we toll’d the bells,[31]
That all began with doleful knells,
As though for Freedom slain.
Anon, they rang out madly[31]
What might have peal’d to be
The land’s alarm-bell—only now
They peal’d to hail the new-born vow
Of men that would be free.
New York went wild to hear them.[32]
Men flooded every way:
They left their shops; they stopt their mills;
And farmers flock’d from all the hills,
And sailors from the bay.
Now who would buy a stamp here?
Was ask’d in all the ways.
But not a shop was not shut to;
For all had wiser work to do
On this, our day of days.
“We would not, and we will not
Submit,” said Isaac Sears.[33]
The governor said: “You fill the street,
But here a fort and there a fleet
May yet awake your fears.”
“Our stamps,” cried James,[34] his major,
“Our stamps, if loaded down
Our cannon here, and scatter’d thence
Among the crowd, would soon commence
To circulate in town.”
“Aha,” said Sears in answer,
“For this you soldiers came?
For this our wily governor here
Pretended border wars to fear—[35]
Aha, were we his game?
“To tax us indirectly,—
Was it for this, the crown
Bade your imported troopers make
Our town[35] support you?—for the sake
Of being thus kept down?
“To kill our leaders, was it,
The crown made them be rank’d
By Braddock’s braggarts, who could run
And leave a man like Washington[36]
By their commands outflank’d?
“Yes, yes, in genuine danger
We know who[37] win the day;
And whose the coin and blood we miss,
That, from our fathers’ time to this,
Have held our foes at bay.
“And need we now your army?
You know—your sovereign too,
Our wars are his—He[37] France attacks
And here her colony—when he lacks
Excuse for sending you.
“How strong, think you, our patience?
How long ere it shall tire?—
Ah, Britain’s lion’s whelp may get
So tough by cuffs like this, as yet
To turn and rend her sire!”
“Sheer treason!” cried the major;
And “Treason!” cried his chief.
Our spokesman’s eye their fury brook’d,
Then calmly toward his friends he look’d,
And gave his thoughts relief.
“Nay, theirs are loyal spirits,
But when the wrong is great,
And forms of law do not deserve
Their soul’s allegiance, then they serve
The spirit of the state.”
With this, he told those courtiers
Their words would he report.
They heard the people’s groans that rose
To greet the words he bore, and chose
To seek, near by, the fort.[38]
Then from the fort the cannon
Were turn’d upon the town.
But “If you fire,” the people cried,
“We hang the governor here outside,
Or burn your quarters down.”
The governor urged his honor;
“Had pledged,” he said, “his oath,”[39]
And ought to further Britain’s aims.“—
We thought New York had equal claims
On oath and honor both.[39]
“And let him pledge his honor
To let the stamps alone,”
Said Isaac Sears; and all the crowd
Who heard him say it, shouted loud
To make his words their own.
The people waited long then,
And hoped the strife would end;
But, when this course had nothing won,
No man[40] could check a course begun
The governor’s will to bend.
At night, the boys with torches
Came trooping out for sport.
They sought the house of James,[41] and took
The army flags his fear forsook,
And march’d them round the fort.
The governor own’d his coaches,
And one a coach of state.
They burst his barn-door in with cries[42]
And dragg’d them off before his eyes,
As trophies of their hate.
An image of the devil,
And of the governor too[42]
They made, and made them both careen,
While, side by side, through Bowling Green,
They wheel’d them into view.
At last, of all the coaches
They form’d a funeral pyre;
And, full in face of all the town,
Who only roar’d its roar to drown,
They set the whole on fire.
Then came a wake and wailing,
As ashes cover’d all;
And not a clause in laws unjust
The man had thought on us to thrust
But some one would recall.
“A foe[43] is he of England!”
“A foe to all of us!”
“In Scotland went with Jacobites!”
“Has vow’d to murder here our rights!—
Ere that we toast him thus!”
The colony’s council[44] pass’d then
A vote opposed by none,—
That England had the stamps assign’d
To agents who had all resign’d,
Nor was the governor one.
At this the governor waver’d,
And wrote a message thus:
“I wait the dawn of further light.”
Cried Sears then: “Keep the fox in sight!
He waits till free from us.
“Now send we back this answer:
‘Awhile the town will wait,
But four and twenty hours from now[45]
Will hold the stamps or else will vow
To hold no more debate.’”
The governor begg’d the army,[46]
The army begg’d the fleet,
To take the stamps and save the fort;
But neither cared to brave the sport
Of those who fill’d the street.
The courage of the courtiers
Had bow’d to wisdom higher:
The power of right that ruled the street
Had overawed the fort and fleet—
They did not dare to fire.
They did not dare to kindle[46]
A spark that, should it flame,
Would shed no glory round a throne
Where prince and peer would flush alone
To blush for their own shame.
So nothing now was left them
Except to yield us all.[47]
Our mayor took the stamps, at last,
And bore them off, and lock’d them fast
Within the City Hall.
And loud the people shouted;[48]
They felt that right was done;
Cried “Liberty and Property!
No stamps to curse the Colony!”
And parted, one by one.
The next day all the papers[49]
Without the stamps appear’d.
Men took no notes, but trusted men.
Our ships were off to sea again;
And none the navy fear’d.
And none had bought a stamp there,
Or seal’d himself a slave;
And half of England, trust my word,
Were thrill’d with joy, when they had heard
How we ourselves could save.[50]
At last there came a daybreak
When all the thankful kneel’d;
And bells were rung, and banners hung;
And England’s weal was drunk and sung—[51]
The Stamp Act was repeal’d.
Great Britain’s lords in council
Had talked of fire and ball;
But, when they touch’d our liberties,
Met manhood in the colonies
They could not thus inthrall.