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CHAPTER I
ОглавлениеTHE COMING OF DISCONTENT
The close of the struggle with the French for the possession of the continent may be fairly said to mark the beginning of that series of aggressions on the part of England which ended in the revolt of her colonies. True there had been before that arbitrary and tyrannical royal governors, and absurdly perverse enactments on the part of the Lords of Trade; but not until the French troubles had been disposed of did the British government bend its energies seriously to regulating the affairs of a people which it considered fractious and turbulent. In the Virginia Gazette for May 2, 1766, appeared one of the first of those songs, afterwards so numerous, which expressed the discontent of the colonies under this régime.
THE VIRGINIA SONG
[May 2, 1766]
Sure never was picture drawn more to the life,
Or affectionate husband more fond of his wife,
Than America copies and loves Britain's sons,
Who, conscious of Freedom, are bold as great guns,
"Hearts of Oak are we still, for we're sons of those men
Who always are ready, steady, boys, steady,
To fight for their freedom again and again."
Tho' we feast and grow fat on America's soil,
Yet we own ourselves subjects of Britain's fair isle;
And who's so absurd to deny us the name,
Since true British blood flows in every vein?
"Hearts of Oak," etc.
Then cheer up, my lads, to your country be firm,
Like kings of the ocean, we'll weather each storm;
Integrity calls out, fair liberty, see,
Waves her Flag o'er our heads and her words are be free! "Hearts of Oak," etc.
To King George, as true subjects, we loyal bow down,
But hope we may call Magna Charta our own.
Let the rest of the world slavish worship decree,
Great Britain has ordered her sons to be free.
"Hearts of Oak," etc.
Poor Esau his birthright gave up for a bribe,
Americans scorn th' mean soul-selling tribe;
Beyond life our freedom we chuse to possess,
Which thro' life we'll defend, and abjure a broad S.
"Hearts of Oak are we still, and we're sons of those men
Who fear not the ocean, brave roarings of cannon,
To stop all oppression, again and again."
On our brow while we laurel-crown'd Liberty wear,
What Englishmen ought we Americans dare;
Though tempests and terrors around us we see,
Bribes nor fears can prevail o'er the hearts that are free.
"Hearts of Oak," etc.
With Loyalty, Liberty let us entwine,
Our blood shall for both flow as free as our wine;
Let us set an example, what all men should be,
And a Toast give the World, "Here's to those dare be free."
"Hearts of Oak," etc.
In 1766 William Pitt, perhaps the most enlightened friend America had in England, became Prime Minister, and adopted toward the colonies a policy so conciliatory that it occasioned much disgust in England—as is evident from the following verses which appeared originally in the Gentleman's Magazine.
THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
OR, THE OLD WOMAN TAUGHT WISDOM
[1767]
Goody Bull and her daughter together fell out,
Both squabbled, and wrangled, and made a —— rout,
But the cause of the quarrel remains to be told,
Then lend both your ears, and a tale I'll unfold.
The old lady, it seems, took a freak in her head,
That her daughter, grown woman, might earn her own bread:
Self-applauding her scheme, she was ready to dance;
But we're often too sanguine in what we advance.
For mark the event; thus by fortune we're crossed,
Nor should people reckon without their good host;
The daughter was sulky, and wouldn't come to,
And pray, what in this case could the old woman do?
In vain did the matron hold forth in the cause,
That the young one was able; her duty, the laws;
Ingratitude vile, disobedience far worse;
But she might e'en as well sung psalms to a horse.
Young, froward, and sullen, and vain of her beauty,
She tartly replied, that she knew well her duty,
That other folks' children were kept by their friends,
And that some folks loved people but for their own ends.
"Zounds, neighbor!" quoth Pitt, "what the devil's the matter?
A man cannot rest in his house for your clatter;"
"Alas!" cries the daughter, "here's dainty fine work,
The old woman grown harder than Jew or than Turk."
"She be ——," says the farmer, and to her he goes,
First roars in her ears, then tweaks her old nose,
"Hallo, Goody, what ails you? Wake! woman, I say;
I am come to make peace, in this desperate fray.
"Adzooks, ope thine eyes, what a pother is here!
You've no right to compel her, you have not, I swear;
Be ruled by your friends, kneel down and ask pardon,
You'd be sorry, I'm sure, should she walk Covent Garden."
"Alas!" cries the old woman, "and must I comply?
But I'd rather submit than the huzzy should die;"
"Pooh, prithee be quiet, be friends and agree,
You must surely be right, if you're guided by me."
Unwillingly awkward, the mother knelt down,
While the absolute farmer went on with a frown,
"Come, kiss the poor child, there come, kiss and be friends!
There, kiss your poor daughter, and make her amends."
"No thanks to you, mother," the daughter replied:
"But thanks to my friend here, I've humbled your pride."
But Pitt was soon incapacitated by illness from taking any active part in the government, and Charles Townshend, chancellor of the exchequer, was able to pass his "port bills," and other oppressive measures. Many prominent Americans, among them Samuel Adams, decided that the colonies must be independent.
A SONG
[January 26, 1769]
Come, cheer up, my lads, like a true British band,
In the cause of our country who join heart and hand;
Fair Freedom invites—she cries out, "Agree! And be steadfast for those that are steadfast for me." Hearts of oak are we all, hearts of oak we'll remain: We always are ready— Steady, boys, steady— To give them our voices again and again.
With the brave sons of Freedom, of every degree,
Unite all the good—and united are we:
But still be the lot of the villains disgrace,
Whose foul, rotten hearts give the lie to their face.
Hearts of oak, etc.
See! their unblushing chieftain! perverter of laws!
His teeth are the shark's, and a vulture's his claws—
As soon would I venture, howe'er he may talk,
My lambs with a wolf, or my fowls with a hawk.
Hearts of oak, etc.
First—the worth of good Cruger let's crown with applause,
Who has join'd us again in fair Liberty's cause—
Sour Envy, herself, is afraid of his name,
And weeps that she finds not a blot in his fame.
Hearts of oak, etc.
To Jauncey, my souls, let your praises resound!
With health and success may his goodness be crown'd:
May the cup of his joy never cease to run o'er—
For he gave to us all when he gave to the poor!
Hearts of oak, etc.
What Briton, undaunted, that pants to be free,
But warms at the mention of brave De Launcey?
"Happy Freedom!" said Fame, "what a son have you here!
Whose head is approved, and whose heart is sincere."
Hearts of oak, etc.
For worth and for truth, and good nature renown'd,
Let the name and applauses of Walton go round:
His prudence attracts—but his free, honest soul
Gives a grace to the rest, and enlivens the whole.
Hearts of oak, etc.
Huzza! for the patriots whose virtue is tried—
Unbiass'd by faction, untainted by pride:
Who Liberty's welfare undaunted pursue,
With heads ever clear, and hearts ever true.
Hearts of oak, etc.
New York Journal, January 26, 1769.
Associations known as Sons of Liberty were organized in the larger cities, and in February, 1770, the first Liberty Pole in America was raised at New York city, in what is now City Hall Park. A struggle ensued with the British troops, during which the pole was twice cut down, but it was hooped with iron and set up a third time. A Tory versifier celebrated the event in a burlesque cantata, from which the following description of the pole is taken.
THE LIBERTY POLE
[February, 1770]
