In 1739 a heavy blow had been dealt the commercial and manufacturing industry of the colonies by the molasses and sugar act, imposing a duty on those articles which looked very much like taxation. The colonists looked anxiously to 1764 when the odious act would expire by limitation. But when the time came it was promptly renewed and extended to other articles of domestic consumption. And now was first heard the ominous words stamp act and committees of correspondence. By the stamp act no legal or commercial act was valid unless it was written on stamped paper. The price of this paper was fixed by government and a body of agents appointed to carry on the sale. Thus every transaction in which there was a legal form became tributary to government. In what does this differ from taxation without representation? asked the colonists. But so little did government comprehend the real nature of what it was doing that instead of foreseeing the collision of the two constitutions Parliament assumed by a formal vote the right to tax the colonies. All that remonstrance could gain was a postponement of the stamp act till some more acceptable form of impost could be devised. Even the colonial agents in London failed to see that a radical change in the relations of the two countries was at hand. “The sun of liberty is set,” wrote Franklin from London to Charles Thompson at Philadelphia. “The Americans must light the candles of industry and economy.”
“They will light a very different kind of candle,” was the reply.
The spirit of resistance gained strength daily. Massachusetts took the lead in recommending the call of a Congress of Delegates to meet at New York and take counsel concerning the condition of the country. Rhode Island followed close in her footsteps. In Virginia Patrick Henry brought forward a series of resolutions which going directly to the fundamental principles of constitutional taxation found adherents everywhere. In Providence the Gazette reappeared in an extra number with “vox populi vox Dei” for superscription, and “where the Spirit of the Lord is there is Liberty,” for motto. Augustus Johnston, the attorney-general, was appointed stamp distributor, but refused to “execute his office against the will of our sovereign Lord the People.”
In Newport riots took place and popular feeling manifested itself with extreme violence. The effigies of three obnoxious citizens were kept hanging on a gallows in front of the court house through the day, and in the evening cut down and burned in the presence of a great crowd. Next morning the violence of the mob increased, the obnoxious three and equally obnoxious revenue officers were compelled to take refuge on board the Cygnet sloop-of-war that was lying in the harbor.
Meanwhile a calm, firm voice came from the soberer and more thoughtful citizens assembled in town meeting, instructing their deputies to give their “utmost attention to those important objects, the court of admiralty and the act for levying stamp duties.” ... “It is for liberty, that liberty for which our fathers fought, that liberty which is dearer to a generous mind than life itself that we now contend.”
The day for the enforcement of the stamp act came. But the Congress at New York and the town meetings and assemblies of the different colonies had done their work thoroughly. In a session of the Assembly held at East Greenwich, Rhode Island declared her intention to assert her “rights and privileges with becoming freedom and spirit, ... and to express these sentiments in the strongest manner.” Six energetic resolutions were passed pointing unequivocally at independence if grievances were not redressed. The grave duty of representing her in the New York Congress was entrusted to Henry Ward, colonial secretary, and Metcalf Bowler. Governor Ward, Governor Fitch, of Connecticut, and the Royal Governors were called upon to make oath that they would support the obnoxious act. Samuel Ward alone refused.
The fatal day came, and with its inauspicious dawn legal life ceased. Ships lay idle at the wharves for want of clearance. Merchants could not fill an invoice, the officers of the law could not enforce its decrees. Men and women could not marry or be given in marriage. Civil life was paralyzed in all its functions. Whither will this lead us? was the question that rose to every lip. It was soon evident that the colonies were terribly in earnest. They would rely upon personal honesty and do without stamps. Mobs and riots showed to what lengths the heated popular mind was prepared to go. Engagements to suspend all commercial intercourse with England and employ their means in fostering their own manufactures and productions manifested an intelligent union of purpose which could not be mistaken. Of the stamp distributors some resigned, some refused to act. Throughout the whole country, in town and village not a stamp was to be found, not an agent dared to receive or sell the hateful ware. England bowed to the blast and repealed the act, but as if to leave the way open for future taxation coupled the appeal with an act declaring that Parliament had a right “to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever.” The wound was salved over, not healed.
There were other subjects of collision. We have seen that British ships of war visiting Newport harbor were sometimes welcomed. Sometimes, however, they were held to strict account for their conduct. Lieutenant Hill, of the schooner St. John, was fired into from Fort George for some unrecorded offence. In the following year the Maidstone roused the indignation of the inhabitants by impressing seamen openly in the harbor. Even market boats were stopped and their men taken violently from them. A ship from the coast was boarded as she entered the harbor and her crew impressed. Popular forbearance could go no further. In the evening a mob of sailors five hundred strong seized one of the Maidstone’s boats and burned it on the common. The way was opening for the burning of the Gaspee.
Meanwhile there were great rejoicings over the repeal of the stamp act. Very soon men will begin to look closely to the act that was tacked to it—the declaratory act.
The great step towards securing the concurrent action of the colonies in their resistance was taken. On the 7th of October, 1765, the second colonial Congress met in New York, and after a three weeks earnest discussion sent forth an address to the King, an address to the people, and a memorial to both houses of Parliament, claiming that as Englishmen they could not be taxed without their own consent or deprived of the right of trial by jury. It was soon made evident that the country would stand by them. Associations were formed under the name of “Sons of Liberty.” Rhode Island went a step further, and formed associations of the “Daughters of Liberty.” Hitherto the correspondence with the colonies had been conducted by the Board of Trade. But as the dispute assumed a more definite shape, the infatuated King, who was resolutely persisting in his unconstitutional scheme of personal government, gave orders that the colonial dispatches should be addressed to him.