Virginia was now aflame. It was rumored that groups of men from all parts of the colony were preparing to march on Williamsburg to seize and destroy the stamps as soon as they arrived. Many justices declared that they would resign rather than use the stamps in the processes of their courts, and it seemed certain that others would follow their example. From Westmoreland came word that a mob had burned in effigy the stamp distributor for Virginia, Colonel George Mercer, a native Virginian who had served in the French and Indian War.[43] Fauquier waited anxiously for his arrival with the stamps, praying that adverse winds would delay him until the session of the General Court was over and the crowds of merchants, persons involved in suits, debtors, witnesses, and others had left town.
But the Fates were against him. Mercer arrived on October 30, and at once went to his father's house. Having word of this, a crowd of men, some of them leading citizens in their home counties, started off to find him. As they approached the Capitol they met him and asked him whether he intended to retain his office as stamp distributor. To this he gave an evasive answer, and continued to the coffee house nearby where Governor Fauquier, Speaker Robinson, and several members of the Council were seated on the porch. The crowd, which had followed him, pressed toward them and a cry was heard, "Let us rush in." But when Fauquier and the others advanced to repel them, someone called out, "See the Governor, take care of him." Upon this they fell back. And when Mercer promised that he would give his answer at the Capitol the next day at five, they seemed satisfied and permitted him to walk through them side by side with the Governor to the Palace.[44]
In the meanwhile, word of Mercer's arrival had spread through the countryside, so that the next day hundreds of persons poured into town. As five o'clock approached a vast crowd assembled in the Capitol yard. There Mercer spoke to them. His appointment had been unsolicited, he said. He had not, as had been rumored, urged the passage of the Stamp Act. "And now," he added, "I will not, directly by myself or deputies proceed in the execution of the act ... without the assent of the General Assembly of this colony." At this there was a great shout of approval, and those near him raised him aloft and bore him out through the gate to a nearby tavern. As they entered, the huzzas were redoubled, while drums rattled, and horns blared. That night the town was illuminated and bells rang out. The following night the occasion was climaxed by "a splendid ball."[45]
As for the stamps, they never touched land. They were transferred to a warship, "it being the place of the greatest, if not the only security for them." If the mob could have laid their hands on them they would certainly have gone up in flames.
Now in various parts of the colony men met to organize what they called Sons of Liberty. The merchants of Norfolk, native-born Scotsmen many of them, had a double grievance, since the Sugar Act threatened their trade and the Stamp Act their liberty. In March about thirty leading citizens met at the house of Mayor Calvert, where "they brought daylight on" debating the best way to resist both acts. At their call the people crowded into the courthouse to protest. "We will ... defend ourselves in the full enjoyment of ... those inestimable privileges of freeborn British subjects of being taxed only by representatives of their own choosing.... If we quietly submit to the execution of the said Stamp Act, all our claims of civil liberty will be lost, and we and our posterity become absolute slaves."[46]
A few days later, when word went round that a certain Captain William Smith had been responsible for the seizure of several vessels in the Elizabeth River, he was arrested by a group of leading citizens. Hurrying him to the County Wharf, they tarred and feathered him, set him in the ducking stool, and pelted him with stones and rotten eggs. They next marched him through the town with drums beating, ducked him again, and at last threw him headlong into the water. Had not a passing boat pulled him out, more dead than alive, he would have been drowned.[47]
At Hobb's Hole, Essex County, a merchant named Ritchie barely escaped similar treatment. A number of men, hearing that he had boasted that he could secure stamps and was determined to clear his ship with them, marched on the town and drew up along the main street. They brought Ritchie out and threatened to strip him to the waist, tie him to the tail of a cart, and then fix him in the pillory. This was too much for him. Reluctantly he swore on "the holy Evangels" that no vessel of his would clear "on stamped paper." Thereupon most of the crowd dispersed, and those living nearby went to the tavern "where they spent the evening with great sobriety."[48]
The people of the colony were encouraged in their resistance to the Stamp Act by articles in British gazettes and magazines, which were reprinted in the Virginia Gazette. A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine contended that the act violated the British constitution, which "declared that no Englishman is to be taxed without his own consent." "I know very well I shall be told that though the Americans are not immediately represented in the English Parliament, they are nevertheless represented virtually.... But why, in the name of common sense, if the mother country judged herself the virtual representative of all her various dependencies, did she grant a provincial legislature to her colonies, and from the time of their first existence invest this legislature with the sole power of internal taxation?" For the colonists to yield, he thought, would be to confess themselves slaves.[49]
And when the Virginians read the Gazette they noted with satisfaction that the disruption of trade was causing great distress in England. A dispatch from Birmingham stated that unless the Stamp Act were repealed twenty thousand persons would be out of work.[50] The merchants of London petitioned the Commons for relief. Their trade with the colonies, which was of such great importance to the nation, faced utter ruin, they said. They could not collect debts due them in America, because the Sugar Act and the Stamp Act had thrown the colonies into confusion and brought on many bankruptcies. Unless these acts were repealed a multitude of workers would become a burden on the community or else seek their bread in other countries.[51]
It was late in May, 1766, that a vessel arrived in Virginia waters bearing the news that the Stamp Act had been repealed. As horsemen galloped along the roads and boatsmen in their shallops ascended the great rivers, the word was passed from mouth to mouth. Everywhere there was joyous celebration. At Great Bridge the people listened to a patriotic sermon in St. Giles Church, and then went to the Banqueting Room, where they raised their glasses in a series of toasts—to the King and Queen, Colonel Barré, and others. At Hampton there was a banquet at the Bunch of Grapes, followed by a ball at the King's Arms Tavern, while outside there was a great bonfire.[52] The people of Williamsburg waited for their celebration until the convening of the court when the town was crowded. Then every house was illuminated, and there was "a ball and elegant entertainment at the Capitol," marked by "much mirth" and the drinking of toasts.[53]