How the Stamp Act was Received in America

Although the British Parliament had passed, and refused to repeal, highly oppressive acts regarding commerce and manufactures, it had never hitherto attempted to levy direct taxes. The nearest approach to this was in the rates for postage; but in these the pay was voluntary and for services rendered, and it provoked no opposition. The proposition, therefore, to lay a direct tax on the colonies was received by them all with disapproval, though the degrees of outspoken dissent widely differed. In Boston, which had always been the centre of democratic sentiment in America, the protest was made in no uncertain tone. The House of Representatives resolved, "That the imposition of duties and taxes by the Parliament of Great Britain, upon a people not represented in the House of Commons, is absolutely irreconcilable with their rights." The pamphlet issued by James Otis, mentioned in the preceding article, vigorously asserted this principle, and declared, "If we are not represented, we are slaves." He maintained, as one of the "natural rights of man," that taxes could not be levied upon the people "but by their consent in person or by deputation." The energetic protests published greatly intensified the feeling of resistance to the Parliamentary scheme. The passage of the Stamp Act, therefore, was regarded throughout America as a high-handed violation of the liberties of the people. At the same time a clause had been inserted into the Mutiny Act, authorizing as many troops to be sent to America as the ministers saw fit. The colonies in which these might be stationed were required to furnish them with quarters, fire-wood, bedding, drink, soap, and candles. The story of the events which followed the passage of these dictatorial acts we select from Richard Hildreth's "History of the United States of America," a work which, while lacking vivacity of manner, is justly valued for its merit as a trustworthy history.

NEWS of the passage of these acts reached Virginia while the Assembly was sitting. The aristocratic leaders in that body hesitated. The session approached its close, and not one word seemed likely to be said. But the rights of the colonies did not fail of an advocate. Patrick Henry had already attracted the attention of the House by his successful opposition to Robinson's proposed paper money loan. Finding the older and more weighty members unlikely to move, he assumed the responsibility of introducing a series of resolutions which claimed for the inhabitants of Virginia all the rights of born British subjects; denied any authority anywhere, except in the provincial Assembly, to impose taxes upon them; and denounced the attempt to vest that authority elsewhere, as inconsistent with the ancient Constitution, and subversive of British as well as of American liberty. Upon the introduction of these resolutions a hot debate ensued. "Caesar had his Brutus," said Henry, "Charles I. his Cromwell, and George III.--" "Treason! treason!" shouted the Speaker, and the cry was re-echoed from the House. "George III.," said Henry, firmly, "may profit by their example. If that be treason, make the most of it!" In spite of the opposition of all the old leaders, the resolutions passed, the fifth and most emphatic by a majority of only one vote. The next day, in Henry's absence, the resolutions were reconsidered, softened, and the fifth struck out. But a manuscript copy had already been sent to Philadelphia; and, circulating through the colonies in their original form, these resolutions gave everywhere a strong impulse to the popular feeling.

In Massachusetts a committee recommended that a convention or congress, composed of deputies from the several colonies, should meet at New York in the following October, to consider what action the colonies should take in regard to the recent acts.

Before the stamps reached America, symptoms of a violent ferment appeared. A great elm in Boston, at the corner of the present Washington and Essex Streets, under which the opponents of the Stamp Act were accustomed to assemble, soon became famous as "liberty tree." Those persons supposed to favor the ministry were hung in effigy on the branches of this elm. A mob attacked the house of Oliver, secretary of the colony, who had been appointed stamp-distributor for Massachusetts, broke his windows, destroyed his furniture, pulled down a small building supposed to be intended for a stamp office, and frightened Oliver into a resignation. Jonathan Mayhew, the able minister of the West Church in Boston, . . . preached a warm sermon against the Stamp Act, taking for his text, "I would they were even cut off which trouble you!" The Monday evening after this sermon the riots were renewed. The mob attacked the house of Story, registrar of the Admiralty, and destroyed not only the public files and records, but his private papers also. Next they entered and plundered the house of the controller of the customs; and, maddened with liquor and excitement, proceeded to the mansion of Hutchinson, in North Square. The lieutenant-governor and his family fled for their lives. The house was completely gutted, and the contents burned in bonfires kindled in the square. Along with Hutchinson's furniture and private papers perished many invaluable manuscripts relating to the history of the province, which Hutchinson had been thirty years in collecting, and which it was impossible to replace.

These acts were disclaimed by the more respectable citizens. Yet the rioters, though well known, went unpunished, and had undoubtedly the secret sympathy of the community.