by Edward Cline
One hour later Harke and his men transferred the box of stamps to another pier and up another gangboard to the Swiftsure. They quick marched along a short stretch of beach between a cordon of armed colonials. The crowd had thinned out a little, but Harke estimated that he was still outnumbered ten to one.
He said nothing and did not look to his left or right, except when he approached the trio of mounted colonials who had been saluted by the throng. He gave Jack Frake a wicked look. That man merely watched him pass by and step onto the pier.
An hour later the Swiftsure weighed anchor, hauled in her hawsers, and slipped away from the pier on an outgoing tide. When the sloop was in the middle of the river, her sails were made taut to catch the wind, and she began to glide back down the green highway of the York River.
The crowd cheered again, and muskets were fired again in triumph.
Jack Frake turned to Hugh Kenrick and grinned. “We did it, Hugh,” he said quietly. He turned in his saddle and raised his hat in salute to his companions behind him. And again the group was surrounded by an astonished and jubilant crowd.
Hugh Kenrick felt the elation of triumph, as well, but it was tempered by the knowledge that Reverdy Brune was not one of the passengers who had come down the gangboard.
* * *
Chapter 11: The Victory
When the sails of the Swiftsure were no longer in sight, an impromptu meeting of the Sons of Liberty and the magistrates was held in the Olympus Room of Safford’s King’s Arms. An exuberant Reece Vishonn almost immediately proposed holding a victory ball at Enderly to celebrate the success of the stamp blockade.
Jack Frake, however, cautioned patience. “Let us first see what happens in Williamsburg on Friday,” he said.
“How can there be any doubt of what will happen there?” queried Vishonn. “Your own man reported that Mr. Mercer was nearly mobbed today. He will not be able to assure the General Court any stamps, and so the Court must either proceed without them, or will not open.”
“Yes,” chimed Jock Frazer. “Mr. Crompton said that he heard that many attorneys may not even appear to press their cases, and that the Governor and the Council may find themselves facing an empty bar.”
Aymer Crompton, Jack’s brickmaker, had been dispatched to the Capitol to observe and report events there, and had returned early in the afternoon with news of George Mercer’s reception. Henry Buckle was sent yesterday to Yorktown to spot the Sparrowhawk coming upriver on its way to Caxton.
As soon as Hugh Kenrick arrived in town, instead of going first to Meum Hall, he had ridden to Morland to see Jack Frake, and together they devised a plan to foil landing of the stamps. Most of the county’s residents, they knew, complained bitterly about the new tax burden, but did not know how to oppose it. Jack hit upon the idea of informing them of the conspiracy and what the Sons planned to do. “We will send some of our tenants around to everyone, and ask the people to pass the word to come to the waterfront when Ramshaw’s vessel has been sighted,” he said.
“How will they know when to come?” asked Hugh.
“When they hear the bell at the church.”
Hugh grimaced in doubt. “Reverend Acland will not ring the bell, nor allow it to be rung.”
Jack shrugged. “Then we will not inform him of the plan.”
Hugh was quiet for a while. “If the marines are ordered to force their way ashore, there may be a fight.”
“Then there will be a fight,” remarked Jack. “There are enough veterans here to make it hot for the marines and the Navy men. That must be made clear to everyone who comes, including Captain Sterling’s escort.” Jack paused. “If we demonstrate that we are prepared to respond with force, his men may have second thoughts, and abandon their plan.”
“They may be rash enough not to have second thoughts,” said Hugh with irony. “Nor even to think at all.”
“Then they must risk that oversight,” said Jack.
Hugh recalled their mutual relief when, sitting together on horseback on the waterfront, they saw that the Sparrowhawk was not accompanied by a boatload of marines. “I suppose,” he remarked to Jack then, “that Captain Sterling decided that moderation was the better part of base bravado.” He also recalled their mutual relief when, on the previous evening, they met with Thomas Reisdale, Reece Vishonn, and other leading men in the county, and secured unanimous agreement that the stamps must not be allowed to enter the colony of Virginia and the plan he and Jack had devised received complete endorsement.
Today, Aymer Crompton was asked to describe George Mercer’s reception in Williamsburg. He stood in front of the room, hat in hand, and addressed the gathering, at first shyly, then with growing excitement as he saw the intense interest in the faces of his listeners. “I do believe the colonel feared for his life, sirs, and had good cause to! He left his father’s house and walked to the Capitol and the General Court to report to Mr. Fauquier, where he’d heard the Governor was having tea nearby at Mrs. Vobe’s tavern. And as he went up the street, more and more gentlemen, mostly merchants, and lawyers and tradesmen — all who’s in town for the General Court — joined him and buzzed about him surly like, asking what he was to do: Would he resign like a good Virginian, or not? Did he have the stamps? Would the Court open with or without them? Colonel Mercer kept putting them off with answers that ain’t answers at all, and was surely relieved when he passed the Capitol and saw the Governor on Mrs. Vobe’s porch with some Council members. Mr. Robinson and Mr. Randolph were there, too.”
Crompton paused to catch his breath. “Then the colonel nearly ran from the wake of gentlemen behind him and rushed up the steps to join the Governor, and the mob might have, too, and I was sure I’d see some nasty business if they did. But the Governor stood up and faced the mob, and the gentlemen in it would brook no molestation of him, nor of Colonel Mercer. The colonel was pressed for an answer anyway, and he promised them one on Friday, but many of the gentlemen protested, saying that was the day the Act was to start, so the colonel said he’d have a statement for them tomorrow right there at the Capitol at five of the clock.
“The Governor walked with him through the mob, leaving them all behind. Well, sirs, if it weren’t for the respect the mob had for Mr. Fauquier, I do believe they would’ve wrung a resignation from the colonel then and there. The Governor and the colonel walked back to the Palace and went inside. They were in there for the longest time, and not knowing when the colonel would come back out, I mounted up and came back to town here.”
“Good work, Mr. Crompton,” said Jack.
“Thank you, sir,” said Crompton, who put his hat back on and walked to the back of the room.
“Well,” said Thomas Reisdale, “that event was almost as exciting as our own!”
The men in the room laughed at the remark. Jack Frake said, “Now we know where the colony stands. Mr. Kenrick and I will ride to Williamsburg to witness Mr. Mercer’s statement tomorrow. Who will join us?”
Several of the listeners voiced their intention to go to Williamsburg.
“Very well,” said Jack Frake. “It will be interesting to hear how Mr. Mercer justifies his actions.”
Hugh Kenrick remarked, “No doubt he and the Governor will concoct a pièce de théâtre to quell the commotion.”
“Or a litany of lies,” added Jack Frake. He said then, “Mr. Kenrick not only brought news of the plot to smuggle in the stamps, but has just returned with news of the congress in New York.” He gestured to Hugh to rise and speak.
Hugh Kenrick rose and spoke to the gathering about the Stamp Act Congress. “It is a shame that Virginia could not be represented in an official capacity in this congress, for I believe that if she had sent delegates, the resolutions adopted by the congress would have been less humble and more forceful. However, the resolutions voted by the nearly thirty delegates from the nine colonies comprise a declaration of rights and liberties, resembling in essence our own resolves of last May. They protest not only the Stamp Act but the power
of the admiralty courts to subvert our judicial establishment.”
Hugh removed a sheet of paper from a leather pouch and read a draft of the congress’s resolutions. When he was finished, he said, “As you can see, the resolutions address a broad field of subjects.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “It is not likely that Parliament would grant these resolutions any serious cognizance, even were they more consistent in spirit and intent. They are peculiarly steadfast in their humility and moderation. I would not blame the government for dismissing them out of hand, for while they challenge Parliament’s right to legislate the internal polity of the colonies, they also assert the rights of Englishmen but at the same time deny that we can be represented in the Commons, and therefore claim a uniqueness deserving of special, conciliatory consideration. Even Mr. Grenville’s lowest placeman could not help but see the contradictions in the resolutions.”
“Still,” remarked Ralph Cullis, “it is a protest, not merely by one colony, but by a congress of colonies. I cannot imagine how Parliament or His Majesty could ignore such an event.”
“Perhaps the new ministry will be more conciliatory,” speculated Reisdale.
The meeting ended with a toast to the success of the day. Steven Safford supplied a puncheon of his best port at his own expense to celebrate. Jack Frake, however, attempted to put his listeners in a sober frame of mind. “Gentlemen,” he said, “the Act still stands. Mr. Mercer may, tomorrow evening, even tear up his commission before a host of witnesses, and consign the pieces to flames, yet we will still be burdened with the Act. And do not forget that the Crown is determined to collect an extra-legal revenue from us to support our warders. We face an uncertain future. The Proclamation of two years ago still imprisons us, as do a host of other regulations and proscriptions. Our labors have only just begun. Remember that it costs Parliament nothing to pass an unjust law over us, but that the cost of securing its repeal or nullification will always fall on us.” He paused and added, “This is not the end, sirs. It is but a beginning.”
Later, after the meeting was finished and Hugh, Jack, and Reisdale paused in the main room of the King’s Arms for a supper before journeying home, Hugh voiced more critical thoughts of the New York congress. “It was an edifying sojourn, sirs. The experience has convinced me that colonial unity is and always will be a hard-birthed chimera. I had not expected to witness the rivalries and contentions that were evident at the congress that I observed in that town. It is a wonder to me that the gentlemen who were sent by their various assemblies were able to agree on a final draft of the resolutions.”
“How so?” queried Reisdale.
“Well, there was Pennsylvania, represented by Mr. Dickinson, Mr. Bryan, and Mr. Morton. Mr. Franklin, the colony’s most preeminent citizen, is in London attempting to persuade the Crown to convert his colony into a royal one, so that it may better defend itself against French and Indian incursions in the west and to erase the abuses visited on the colony by the Penns. There is a bitter conflict between his party, led by Quakers, and the party of Presbyterians and Anglicans who wish to preserve the proprietorship. They ceased their squabbling only for the moment in order to unite against the Stamp Act. Mr. Talbot, my family’s merchant agent in Philadelphia, also went to New York, and apprised me in detail of the struggle between the factions. Mr. John Hughes, a friend of Mr. Franklin’s, apparently was nominated stamp distributor on Mr. Franklin’s recommendation, and is being pressed to resign. If he does not, he risks having his house pulled down and his person abused. He is a loyal Tory, however, and I doubt that he will surrender his commission under such threats.”
“The colonies will unite, in time,” said Jack. “They are largely disunited now over interference by Crown policies.” He smiled confidently, almost in defiance of his friend. “In the long view, we must seek to extricate ourselves from the clutches of the navigation and trade laws, which at present yoke us to the designs of British merchants and an avaricious Crown, and penalize those who risk indulging their freedom to trade beyond the proscriptions of the mother country.”
Hugh shook his head. “The dissension is too deep, too ill-bred,” he remarked. “Inside the congress and without, I saw how they behaved like wolves rivaling over the same hunting territory.”
“They will unite, in time,” repeated Jack.
Proudlocks glanced at his employer. “You are beginning to sound like Mr. Kenrick here, sir,” he said. “Your manitous are becoming much alike.”
Reisdale said, “Some friends of mine have sent me late Pennsylvania Gazettes. In one of them, William Franklin, governor of New Jersey and son of Benjamin in London, protests in a letter the notion that his father encouraged Parliament to pass the Act.”
Jack Frake, Hugh Kenrick, and John Proudlocks rode to Williamsburg the next morning. The three men from Queen Anne County stood in the rear of the throng beyond the Capitol gate. Thomas Reisdale had come with Reece Vishonn in the latter’s carriage. Other men from Caxton, including Steven Safford, Carver Gramatan, and others, came independently and joined the throng. The last day of October was a pleasantly mild one, with a brilliant blue sky and a slight breeze.
Hugh studied the crowd that had gathered in front of the Capitol to await George Mercer’s arrival. In it were merchants, planters, farmers, servants, ministers, slaves, and artisans from all over the colony, here because the General Court required their presence in some matter or other. He noted the presence of many burgesses, as well, mostly the younger ones, with a handful of the older. He saw Edgar Cullis and his father on the other side of the throng. His fellow burgess nodded coldly to him in greeting.
At five o’clock George Mercer arrived on horseback in the company of his brother James. They both dismounted and stepped before the crowd. A delegation from the crowd had thoughtfully provided an empty crate for the burgess from Frederick to stand on so that the crowd could better hear him. His brother stood nearby, hands folded in front of him, eyeing the crowd warily. After a long silence, George Mercer stepped onto the crate and produced some sheets of paper. He read sonorously and convincingly from them, although at times his voice cracked and squeaked, as though he were exerting an effort to speak words he did not wish to speak and did not really mean.
George Mercer claimed that he could not be blamed for accepting an office whose legitimacy could not be questioned. He claimed that when he left England, he had heard of the House’s Resolves, but could not credit the truth of them for he said he never saw them in printed form, but had only heard talk of them. He claimed that the “greatly esteemed Mr. Benjamin Franklin,” whom he met briefly in London, “deemed the Resolves precipitous and reckless,” so he, not so great a man, could hardly be blamed for doubting the legitimacy of the Resolves, as well.
George Mercer claimed that, during the voyage home, he determined to learn for himself the truth of the matter, and learned upon his arrival that he had been hanged in effigy and his good name sullied, “very likely by persons disappointed in their own application for the commission I received.”
Hugh remarked to Jack at that point, “He is referring to Mr. Richard Henry Lee.” He sighed. “Do you see what I mean about contentiousness?”
George Mercer hoped that he would be permitted to acquit his conduct to date and that his auditors would have patience with him. He claimed that his distributor’s commission was a consequence of the praise and recommendation of the House and Council for some kind of Crown reward, and that he could not be blamed for the form in which the Crown deigned to bestow it upon him.
George Mercer claimed that he was told that he had encouraged passage of the Act in question, and that the commission was his reward for his efforts to that end. He assured his listeners that he had no hand in the business, and had no prior knowledge or promise of the appointment, until he returned from a visit to Ireland, which was long after the Act had been passed.
“Gentlemen,” concluded George Mercer, “I am thus circumstanced.” He wished now to act in such a w
ay that would satisfy his friends and countrymen, but that, on so short a notice on so weighty a matter, he could only promise that he would not execute the Act until he received orders from England, and then only until he received assent from the General Assembly to execute the Act.
Hugh frowned. “But there is no General Assembly to approve or disapprove,” he scoffed.
George Mercer ended on a patriotic note, asserting that no man could more ardently wish for the prosperity of the colony, and desire to protect the rights and privileges of its inhabitants, than he.
Someone in the crowd led it in a round of huzzahs, and then George Mercer was hoisted up on the shoulders of two men and cheered. “But he has not resigned,” remarked John Proudlocks with disbelief. He glanced at Hugh and Jack, hoping for an explanation for this odd behavior.
But Hugh also blinked in exasperation, and added, “He has only promised to stay his hand, until the House has empowered it to act without risk of maiming.”
“What a fog of sophistry he has fled into!” exclaimed Jack with contempt. “Yet look at how they treat his words!”
“As though he had just denounced the Act, and Parliament for having passed it!” added Hugh. “In truth, his speech was worthy of the Bard’s most conniving cad!”
Proudlocks watched as the crowd carried Mercer past the Capitol gate and brushed by them in a noisy procession down Duke of Gloucester Street to a tavern. “He does not look very happy about his great deed,” he observed.
“He has lied,” remarked Jack, “and hopes his renewed friends will never learn that he has.”
Hugh nodded in agreement. “A riskier offense than confessing the truth, to be sure. He will watch his tongue until it is safe to wag it again.”
The trio stood and let the throng rush by, and watched as it moved down the boulevard in a cacophony of shouts and rejoicing. They saw many from their own county join the crowd. After a moment, they turned and walked together to another tavern.