Some of these vessels made themselves very busy, and sailors and shoremen alike were bitter against them. They would bring in prizes to Newport, and their sailors would swagger about the streets, bragging of what they had done, and making sport of the Yankees. They would kidnap sailors and carry them off to serve in the King's ships. One vessel came ashore at Newport, whose crew had been months at sea, trading on the African coast. Before a man of them could set foot on land, or see any of the loved ones at home, from whom they had been parted so long, a press-gang from a British ship-of-war seized and carried off the whole crew, leaving the captain alone on his deck.

We may be sure that all this made the people very indignant. While the rest of the country was quiet, the Newporters were at the point of war. More than once they were ready to take arms against the British.

In July, 1769, a British armed sloop, the Liberty, brought in two prizes as smugglers. They had no smuggled goods on board, but the officers of the Liberty did not care for that. And their captains and crews were treated as if they were prisoners of war.

That night something new took place. The lookout on the Liberty saw two boats, crowded with men, gliding swiftly toward the sloop.

"Boat ahoy!" he shouted.

Not a word came in reply.

"Boat ahoy! Answer, or I'll fire!"

No answer still. The lookout fired. The watch came rushing up on deck. But at the same time the men in the boats climbed over the bulwarks and the sailors of the Liberty found themselves looking into the muzzles of guns. They were taken by surprise and had to yield. The Americans had captured their first prize.

Proud of their victory, the Newporters cut the cables of the sloop and let her drift ashore. Her captives were set free, her mast was cut down, and her boats were dragged through the streets to the common, where they were set on fire. A jolly bonfire they made, too, and as the flames went up the people cheered lustily.

That was not all. With the high tide the sloop floated off. But it went ashore again on Goat Island, and the next night some of the people set it on fire and it was burned to the water's edge. That was the first American reply to British tyranny. The story of it spread far and wide. The King's officers did all they could to find and punish the men who had captured the sloop, but not a man of them could be discovered. Everybody in the town knew, but no one would tell.