THE LITTLE CLOUD
It seems to have been hard for England to take her American colonies seriously. "The gentlemen of the opposition on the other side of the water" were regarded as inferiors, or, at best, troublesome children, to be dealt with accordingly, and taught to know—and keep—their places.
As early as 1766 a "Planter" on the banks of the Potomac addressed a letter to "The Merchants of London," and printed in the London Public Ledger, in which he says: "The epithets of 'parent and child' have been so long applied to Great Britain and her colonies that individuals have adopted them, and we rarely see anything from your side of the water free from the authenticated style of a master to a schoolboy. He seems to say, 'We have, with infinite difficulty and fatigue, got you excused this time; pray be a good boy for the future; do what your papa and mamma bid you, and hasten to return them your most grateful acknowledgments for condescending to let you keep what is your own. If you are a naughty boy, and turn obstinate, and don't mind what your papa and mamma say to you, and pretend to judge for yourself when you are not arrived at years of discretion or capable of distinguishing between good and evil, then everybody will hate you; your parents and masters will be obliged to whip you severely, and their friends will blame them.' See what you have brought this child to! If he had been well scourged at first for opposing your absolute will and pleasure and daring to think he had any such thing as property of his own, he would not have had the impudence to repeat the crime."
The first word of resistance to the enforcement of the Stamp Act came from the Northern Neck of Virginia. At Leeds, Richard Henry Lee, born in the same county and same year with George Washington, wrote a set of resolutions which were unanimously adopted by one hundred and fifteen of the most influential of his neighbors. No Virginian could be legally tried but by his peers. No Virginian (for were they not all British subjects?) could be taxed but by consent of a parliament in which he is represented by persons chosen by the people. "Any person using the stamp paper was an abandoned wretch, lost to virtue and public good!" They bound themselves to resist and punish such persons; and at the utmost risk of lives and fortunes to protect any and every citizen who should suffer persecution because of adherence to these resolutions.
This was in 1766. The defiant paper was signed by Mary Washington's three sons,—Samuel, Charles, and John Augustine,—also by Dr. Mortimer, her family physician. The Stamp Act was soon repealed, and the stir and excitement naturally subsided. Several years later a tax on tea, glass, and paper awakened it again. Even then there was no apprehension of danger. Nobody dreamed of final separation from England. The little cloud had been no bigger than a man's hand; it was resting on the distant horizon and would give trouble to nobody.
In 1766 the odious Stamp Act was repealed. In 1767 a new and more oppressive duty was laid on glass, paper, and tea. England, in the next year, drew back again and repealed this later tax, excepting only the tax on tea, "for," said Lord North, "a total repeal cannot be thought of until America lies prostrate at our feet."
Virginia retaliated by her non-importation resolutions, binding herself to import nothing from England until the obnoxious impost should be repealed. Every known article of luxury in living or dress was specified in her proscribed list, except—oh, wise and prudent burgesses!—"women's bonnets and hats, sewing silk and netting silk!"
The resolutions were signed by 170 Virginians, including George Washington, Spencer Ball, Samuel Eskridge, and the Lees, Tayloes, Corbins, Carters, and others of Mary Washington's family, friends, and neighbors in the Northern Neck. The firmest spirit pervaded the assembly. At its close, the Gazette goes on to say, "the whole company walked in procession from the Capitol to the Raleigh Tavern, where loyal and patriotic toasts were drunk—the King, the Queen and Royal family, the Governor of Virginia, the Duke of Richmond, Lord Chatham, Lord Camden, Lord Shelburne, British Liberty in America." Warming up after half a score of glasses, somebody gave, "May the Efforts of Virginia, joined with her Sister Colonies in the Cause of Liberty, be crowned with Success;" and then, warmer still, and jealously fearful of discourtesy to the government it had just defied (for a gentleman must be polite on his own soil) this toast was enthusiastically presented and applauded, "May the Rose flourish, the Thistle grow, and the Harp be tuned to the cause of American Liberty!"
A fine "schoolboy" this, loving liberty, loving fun, too much in love with happiness to bear malice!