XIII.
THE MOHAWKS AND THEIR TEA-PARTY.
On the evening of October 29, 1773, the Sons of Liberty again assembled at the Green Dragon. A ship had dropped anchor during the day off Castle William, bringing the news that Parliament had passed a law taxing tea. Ever watchful for the welfare of the people, they came together to hear what the London newspapers and their friends in England had to say about it, in letters which Samuel Adams had received. The night being cool, the landlord lighted a fire to warm the room, and enable those who might like a mug of flip to heat the loggerhead in the glowing coals. Upon the table, as usual, were the punch-bowl, crackers, cheese, tobacco, and pipes. Mr. Adams seated himself by the table and opened a letter.
“It is from Mr. Benjamin Franklin,” he said, “who writes that Parliament has passed a law levying three pence per pound on tea. It is not to be collected here, as on other articles, but the merchant who ships it is to pay the duty. It is a very adroit attempt to collect revenue. The consignees in the Colonies, of course, will add the amount in their sales, and so the revenue will be collected without any agency on the part of the Custom Houses.”
“I suppose,” said Doctor Warren, “Lord North and the whole British nation think we are such simpletons, we shall not see the cat in the meal.”
“It is an insidious act,” Mr. Adams resumed, “intended to undermine the political virtue of the people. Two years ago our wives and daughters exhibited their allegiance to lofty principles by signing an agreement not to drink tea until the obnoxious laws then existing were repealed. Lord North laughed at the time, but he has discovered that the people of the Colonies can be loyal to a great principle. The East India Company’s receipts have fallen off at the rate of five hundred thousand pounds value per annum. The company has seventeen million pounds of tea stored in London, intended for the Colonies, and for which there is no market. It owes the government a vast sum. The merchants who have grown rich out of their profits in the past are not receiving any dividends. The shares of the company, which a few months ago were quoted at high rates, have become unsalable. Parliament has repealed the obnoxious laws for taxing the Colonies, and passed this act, doubtless thinking that, so long as we do not pay it directly into the Custom House, we shall acquiesce and go to drinking tea again. And there is where the danger lies. We have been so true to our convictions the revenue received from its sale last year in all the Colonies was only fifteen hundred pounds. It is very humiliating to the king and ministry to turn to the other side of the ledger and find that it has cost several hundred thousand pounds to maintain the troops sent to the Colonies to aid in enforcing the revenue laws upon a reluctant people. This new act, by having all the customs machinery in England, will have a tendency to seduce the people from their allegiance to a great principle. How to thwart the plans of the ministry is the all-important question for us to consider. Mr. Franklin writes that several vessels are soon to leave London for different colonial ports—three of them for Boston.”
“There is an old song,” said Doctor Warren, “about a crafty old spider inviting a silly little fly into his parlor. I don’t believe the fly will accept the invitation this time.”
“The consignees,” said Mr. Adams, “are Elisha and Thomas Hutchinson, the governor’s two sons; Richard Clark and sons, Benjamin Faneuil, Junior, and Joshua Winslow,—all honorable merchants; but their sympathies, as we know, are not with the people. If we allow the tea to be landed, I fear the consequences. We must not permit the levying of a tax, without our consent, in any form.”
“I move,” said John Rowe, “that we do not permit the landing of any tea.”
The meeting voted to adopt the motion. The formal business ended, they refilled their pipes, helped themselves to crackers and cheese, punch and flip.