Desperate Sons

by Les Standiford

  On January 19, word reached Montresor that a desecration almost impossible to imagine had taken place in Philadelphia: “To such a pass are matters come to . . . in a Stationers Shop was found wrote in a Blank Book, ‘George by the Curse of God, usurper of Great Britain and Destroyer of the Faith.’” As Montresor—stunned that anyone would blaspheme his king—reported, “Great Enquiries were made but unfortunately to no purpose.”

  By February 1, the Sons in New York went so far as to form a plan to storm Fort George to seize and destroy the stamped papers belonging to Connecticut. The group formed an official committee of correspondence for “the Liberty Boys,” as Montresor and others also called them, in the neighboring colonies.

  When Governor Moore called his council together, seeking its opinion as to how the Stamp Act might possibly be implemented, its response was the same as it was to Colden before: the measure simply could not be enforced. Colonists continued to parade nightly through the streets of New York town, and vendors hawked papers by crying out, “The downfall of the stamp act.” Similar unrest was reported in Boston, and the Sons of Liberty in Philadelphia sent word to their counterparts that they had discovered stamped permits authorizing ships’ passage to the Mediterranean. The permits, which had been signed by the customs director in New York, were incinerated in front of the Philadelphia Coffee House to the approval of many.

  When that news reached New York, it occasioned a rally led by two men who had assumed prominent roles in the nascent organization: John Lamb, a trader, and Isaac Sears, a thirty-five-year-old former privateer. The mob marched upon the home of Charles Williams, the naval officer for New York province, who had issued the pass, and that of Lewis Pintard, the merchant who had applied for it, intending to send a ship out of Baltimore. The two were dragged to the common, where they would have been pilloried if not for the intercession of clergymen; when both agreed to apologize, they were set free.

  Meantime, colonial papers carried news from London that the matter of “what should be done with the rebellious colonies” was now being debated in the House of Commons. Grenville, who had been replaced as prime minister during the summer, remained a member of Parliament and was said to be “exceptionally warm” on the matter. He requested that a sizable force be sent to “destroy” the rabble, and a fair number of his colleagues were in support of such sentiments. Still, there were a number, including Pitt, who were equally fervent in their opposition. A letter from one British friend of the colonies published in the New-York Gazette predicted that all would end well: “Things will be settled to your satisfaction soon.”

  Though it was not reported widely, the New York Sons had taken matters to a level previously unknown in the colonies. Just before Christmas, a secret delegation, headed by Gershom Mott and Hugh Hughes, was sent to New London, Connecticut, bearing a letter from Isaac Sears. Sears, a Boston native, had earned a reputation as a daring captain during the French and Indian War, wreaking havoc on French shipping until he lost his ship in 1761. He had moved to New York at that point and turned to trading, investing principally in ships that sailed between the colonies and the West Indies.

  What Sears was asking of his counterparts in Connecticut was a pledge that the people there would come to the aid of New York in the event that Grenville followed through on his threat to send troops to enforce the Stamp Act. In return, Sears promised the same. Mott and Hughes held discussions with committees in New London and Norwich, and on Christmas Day 1765, they returned with a successfully negotiated mutual defense pact. The Sons of Liberty of both New York and Connecticut agreed to march at a moment’s notice, at their own expense, should proper notice be received from the other, “to the relief of those that shall, are, or may be in danger from the stamp act, or its promoters and abettors.”

  In addition, the two groups agreed to keep a close eye on local persons who might take actions favoring the implementation of the Stamp Act and share intelligence as need be. The groups further pledged to defend freedom of the press and to uphold the interests of all those who wished to carry on business in defiance of the odious threats of the British.

  Copies of the agreement were sent to other groups of Sons in Connecticut and New York, including Albany, as well as Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. On January 7, 1766, the full membership of the Sons of New York passed a set of resolutions that would effectively transform them from a randomly motivated association into a formally constituted organization. They pledged: (1) to go to the “last Extremity, and venture our lives and fortunes, effectually to prevent the Stamp-Act from ever taking place in this city and Province,” (2) that anyone who issued or received a stamped instrument “shall incur the highest resentment of this society, and be branded with everlasting infamy,” (3) that anyone carrying on business as usual without stamped papers would be protected “to the utmost power of this society,” (4) that they would cast no aspersions on the character of any man, except of course, “than as he was a promoter or abettor of the stamp act,” and (5) that they would maintain peace and order, “so far as it can be done consistently with the preservation and security of our rights and privileges.”

  On February 24, the resolves were published in the pages of the New York Mercury, along with a sixth article agreed to the week before during a meeting at the home of William Howard. In that addendum, the Sons of New York affirmed their belief that the general safety of the colonies and the British constitution depended upon a “firm union of the whole,” and that the Sons would stand firm against any attempt to rob them of their rights and privileges. Furthermore, they pledged their willingness “to assist our fellow subjects in the neighbouring provinces, to subvert or endanger the liberties of America.”

  All this was reprinted without comment by the Mercury, though the paper did add punctuation with a bulletin recently arrived from Elizabeth-Town. There, it was said, “A large Gallows was erected . . . last Week with a Rope ready fixed thereto, and the Inhabitants there vow and declare, that the first Person that either distributes [or] takes out a Stamped Paper, shall be hung thereon without Judge or Jury.”

  The Sons of Liberty of Oyster Bay wrote to cheer “the measure which you have taken . . . we do heartily approve of, and that with our lives and fortunes we stand ready to assist you in the same.” Sons chapters in Wallingford, Connecticut, issued a similar proclamation of willingness to go “to the last extremity, even to take the field.” Chapters at Preston, Canterbury, and Stratford chimed in. At a summit meeting in Hartford, Sons delegates from across the state dedicated themselves to the perpetuation of “the union and harmony established among the Sons of Liberty” in all the colonies and created a Committee of Correspondence to further that end.

  A Sons chapter in New Brunswick, New Jersey, wrote New York on February 25 that it would be ready to lend “hearts and hands” to oppose the common enemy. The Sons of Woodbridge called for a general convention to join “all the provinces on the Continent.” In April, the militiamen of Springfield followed up their annual military exercises with a proclamation that they would be ready at a moment’s notice to come to the aid of the Sons of Liberty of any neighboring province, and as the New York Mercury reported, they then drank a toast to an ample supply of arms and ammunition for the Sons of Liberty everywhere.

  Sons in Providence and Newport met in support on the plan of union for all the colonies, stating it was their “indispensable Duty” to unite with Sons of Liberty “through out America in every reasonable Measure, to prevent the Execution of the Stamp Act.” The Boston Sons, of course, pledged their unity with New York and sent letters out to every town in the colony urging the same. In Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and the surrounding towns, the results were similar, and in Baltimore as elsewhere in Maryland groups responded enthusiastically to a union of the colonies. Only in Philadelphia were Sons unable to secure a pledge of support, owing, says historian Edmund Morgan, to public apathy there.

  Inside two years, then, vague disconten
t, polite protest, and petition by lawfully appointed colonial assemblies and trade agents to Parliament transformed into the formation of paramilitary guerrilla organizations, ready to do battle with the British. Poor Montresor seemed beside himself. “The Sons of Liberty arrived to that pass . . . that in case orders should arrive for Enforcing the Stamp act to seize all the Officers of the Crown and embark them for England,” he reported on February 26. With the officers gone, the Sons hoped to bribe the rank and file “over to their disloyal opinions.”

  Still, Montresor found reason to hope. He pointed out that Governor Moore had “bought and wears two Homespun Coats made in the Colonies for the Encouragement of arts in the Colonies and as an Example for others.” Meanwhile, he busied himself with finishing up the map work that Moore had commissioned. On March 3, he reported that finally the unspiking of all the field artillery had been completed, nearly four months after the mob had threatened to storm Fort George.

  On March 9, the first sloop of spring sailed upriver for Albany, though the following day a storm dumped a foot of snow on the city. The Sons held a parade on the eleventh, featuring an effigy of Lieutenant Governor Colden spiking a cannon. The procession made one stop before General Gage’s headquarters, and when Gage and his men refused to join in their huzzahs, the men shouted that they would have their hats off yet before the Sons were done with them.

  The bad weather continued, with tides threatening to force the evacuation of Fort Edward. “A very hard Gale of wind at East with rain,” as Montresor described it. “A perfect storm.” One sea captain, a veteran of twenty-two Atlantic crossings, claimed that he had never seen such weather. He reported having hacked more than twenty tons of ice off his masts and rigging. Aboard that frozen ship, as it turned out, was one Captain Conner, sent by His Majesty to relieve Captain Kennedy for refusing to take the stamps aboard a man-of-war when Colden begged him. The act would have been some solace to the sulking Colden, surely.

  On March 18 word came of a proposal from the New York Sons to erect a statue on Bowling Green where Governor Colden’s coach had been burned. It would be the likeness of that friend of the colonies William Pitt standing in prominence there, and the place would be renamed Liberty Green.

  While that prospect loomed, a more pressing matter took over the concerns of the Sons. On the nineteenth, Isaac Sears and one of his associates went aboard the warship Garland, demanding that the ship’s lieutenant, a man named Hallam, be turned over to them. According to Sears, Hallam had publicly proclaimed that were John Holt, the publisher of the Gazette, to set foot in England, he’d be hanged for the things he’d dared to publish.

  As Sears made this case, a mob gathered on the docks and began to chant, “Bring the lieutenant ashore, with a halter about his neck.”

  There would be no need for halters, Sears explained, if the lieutenant would deliver a written denial of the statement. What Sears received was a quick escort back to the docks, but it was not the end of things. The following day, the mob was back and a message was relayed to the ship: if Hallam did not deliver himself up to answer these charges, he would be killed, sooner or later.

  When General Gage heard of all this, he must have been at his wit’s end. He sent word to the captains of the warships in the harbor that he was sending additional powder and cartridges. Meantime, they should stand fast against such threats.

  Continuing foul weather hampered efforts to bolster the ships’ supplies, but at the same time it kept the protesters inside as well. On the twenty-first, the Sons assembled on the docks again, but word reached them that the ships were stocked and fortified and that any attempts on them would mean a substantial firefight. Discretion, it was determined, was the better part of valor.

  There was resultant grumbling among the protesters that Gage had intervened in the matter. But that point also caused Lieutenant Montresor to grouse, saying that since his arrival, Governor Moore had not once interfered with the activities of the Sons. Until Gage had stood up, the Sons never “had the shadow of Opposition to present itself against them.”

  The morning of March 23 dawned with a hard wind still blowing out of the northwest. Word circulated on the street that the Sons were threatening to pull down the house of the officer who had carried the messages from General Gage to Captain Conner authorizing him to fire in case of an assault on the warships.

  The New York Sons were also heartened by a message sent by Colonel Israel Putnam, a legendary Indian fighter from Connecticut and one of the leaders of that colony’s Sons. Putnam had established an armory with powder, guns, and ammunition, he said, and there were 10,000 men arrayed and ready to march as soon as they were summoned.

  Then, while the stalemate simmered, some astonishing news arrived. On the afternoon of March 25 an express rider galloped in after a twenty-two-hour ride from Philadelphia, carrying word from that city’s Sons: a ship from Ireland was just docked at Baltimore, carrying copies of a letter from a member of Parliament to a correspondent in Dublin. On January 29, it was said, the Stamp Act had been repealed.

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  First to Blink

  Though that news from Parliament would turn out to have been premature—what was meant was that repeal seemed imminent—it was nonetheless a great boost to the hopes of the colonists to learn that Parliament might yet come to its senses. It was well known that Lord Rockingham, Grenville’s replacement as prime minister, was disposed to the repeal of the Stamp Act.

  In fact, debate on the matter continued with some urgency once Parliament convened in December 1765. The news of the violence in the colonies struck conservatives such as Grenville as intolerable, with Whigs such as Pitt calling such events inevitable. While the theoretical debate raged, British merchants, stung by a drop in trade revenues, began to press for repeal of the measure based on practical considerations. Rockingham, with the aid of his close friend Edmund Burke, went to some lengths to organize the nation’s merchants in lobbying their individual representatives for repeal of the act.

  When Parliament reconvened in January following the holidays, King George appeared before Parliament and requested that the Houses formulate resolutions, “as may tend at once to preserve those Constitutional Rights over the Colonies, and to restore to them that Harmony and tranquility, which have lately been interrupted by Riots and Disorders of the most dangerous Nature.” Rockingham followed by introducing a formal proposal for repeal of the Stamp Act.

  Grenville responded that “Great Britain protects America; America is bound to yield obedience. If, not, tell me when the Americans were emancipated?” The colonists were quite happy to have British troops defend them against the depredations of French-incited savages on the western frontiers, the former prime minister argued. As a result, he said, “the nation has run itself into an immense debt to give them their protection; and now they are called upon to contribute a small share toward the public expence, an expence arising from themselves, they renounce your officers, and break out . . . into open rebellion.”

  William Pitt’s position was that Grenville had been wrong from the beginning. Whatever the reasons, he said, “It is my opinion that this Kingdom has no right to lay a tax upon the colonies.” Though he reaffirmed the authority of Great Britain over the colonies, he maintained that levying taxes was not a part of governing (a position that even modern-day Tea Party members might find startling). With regard to the acts of violence that Grenville and others found so repugnant, he said, “I rejoice that America has resisted.” Had the three million in the colonies been content “to submit to be slaves,” they would have provided the precedent to make slaves of every British subject.

  Back and forth the debate raged, with petitions arriving daily from the members’ constituencies, such as the one sent from the merchants of Bristol, “in favour of the Bill to repeal the American Stamp Act.” The document lamented the sorry state of current trade with the colonies and predicted that “thousands of our Industrious Poor will soon want employ” unless the ac
t was repealed.

  Benjamin Franklin was called before the House of Commons to testify on the matter, and although the veteran statesman had been restrained when the act was being proposed, the fact that his own Philadelphia home had nearly gone up in smoke at the hands of his constituents seems to have given him a new perspective on the matter. His testimony lasted for four hours, during which the members of Parliament grilled him with 174 questions. A sampling of the exchange presents both the positions of the combatants and the practical terms of engagement:

  Q. What is your name, and place of abode?

  A. Franklin, of Philadelphia.

  Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes among themselves?

  A. Certainly many, and very heavy taxes.

  Q. What are the present taxes in Pennsylvania, laid by the laws of the colony?

  A. There are taxes on all estates, real and personal; a poll tax; a tax on all offices, professions, trades, and businesses, according to their profits; an excise on all wine, rum, and other spirit; and a duty of ten pounds per head on all Negroes imported, with some other duties.

  Q. For what purposes are those taxes laid?

  A. For the support of the civil and military establishments of the country, and to discharge the heavy debt contracted in the last [Seven Years’] war. . . .

  Q. Are not all the people very able to pay those taxes?

  A. No. The frontier counties, all along the continent, have been frequently ravaged by the enemy and greatly impoverished, are able to pay very little tax. . . .

  Q. Are not the colonies, from their circumstances, very able to pay the stamp duty?

  A. In my opinion there is not gold and silver enough in the colonies to pay the stamp duty for one year.

  Q. Don’t you know that the money arising from the stamps was all to be laid out in America?