Читать книгу The Handy Boston Answer Book - Samuel Willard Crompton - Страница 24

Given that the Stamp Act had failed, could England and America go back to previous relations?

They should have done so. Mutual self-interest was involved. Much of England’s trade derived from the colonies. But in 1767, Charles Townshend (sometimes called “Champagne Charlie”) persuaded George III to create a new set of taxes for the colonies. Known as the Townshend Acts, these regulations imposed taxes on paper, paint, glass, lead, and tea.

None of these taxes were terrible on their own: it was the combination of five that infuriated many colonists. The tax on painter’s colors and the one on glass caused the most hardship, but the tax on tea created the most dissatisfaction. The American colonists were, by 1767, primarily a nation of tea drinkers.

How much was the tax on tea?

It was three pence per pound of tea, and this was enough to discourage quite a few Bostonians from purchasing the bundles of leaves that produced the wholesome beverage. Bostonians were again in the forefront, but other towns and colonists followed in establishing a policy of non-importation of the five taxed goods. Some Americans went even further, boycotting all British goods. And the results were soon felt in London, where merchants complained bitterly about the unpatriotic American colonists.

How do we know so much about the temper of this time (1768)?

Naturally we don’t wish to rely on the words of the patriots in and around Boston. We turn, therefore, to the diary and letters of Ann Hulton. Presumably she was in her thirties when she came to Boston in 1768, as the unmarried sister of Henry Hulton, the brand-new customs inspector for the port of Boston.

How do we know so much about the consumption habits of Bostonians in the 1700s?

Plenty of records of financial transactions exist, but the paintings of John Singleton Copley, for whom Copley Square is named, provide our best glimpse of upper-class Bostonians from the 1760s. Copley painted dozens of portraits, many of individuals but others of whole families. Through his eyes and his exquisite skill with the painter’s brush, we see the Bostonians of the 1760: well-clad, healthy and strong, but above all elegant and self-possessed.

Whether her brother prepared her or not, Ann Hulton soon found herself in a situation quite unlike any she’d seen in the British motherland. Just three weeks after arriving in Boston, Ann Hulton penned a letter to a friend in London. “Dear Madam,” she began. “I presume it will be agreeable to you to hear that my brother’s family had a good voyage of 5 weeks & arrived all well at Boston the 5^th instant [the fifth of June, 1768]. You will be surprised to hear how we were obliged to fly from the place in six days after & take refuge aboard the Romney, man of war lying in Boston Harbor.”

How could the Bostonians eject the king’s lawful inspector?

That was precisely the question that Ann Hulton marveled over. In the letter to her London correspondent, she explained that the Boston crowds—or mobs—were not the same as in Old England.

Mrs. Burch, at whose house I was, had frequently been alarmed with the Sons of Liberty surrounding her house with the most hideous howlings as the Indians.… The occasion soon happened, when my sister & I accompanied her at 10 o’clock to a neighbor’s house, not apprehending much danger, but we soon found that the mobs here are very different from those in Old England where a few lights placed in the windows will pacify … here they act from principle & under countenance, no person daring or willing to suppress their outrages.

Even in the twenty-first century, we can detect from a distance the sneer in Ann Hulton’s tone as she uses those words “from principle & under countenance.” The simple answer is that the Bostonians believed any measures were proper to employ when resisting the new customs laws.

What did Governor Bernard say to Ann Hulton?

In the summer of 1768, Ann Hulton and her relatives—all of whom were connected with the odious taxes—fled Boston for the relative safety of The Castle, on present-day Castle Island. They and their friends were drinking tea one afternoon when Governor Sir Francis Bernard (1712–1779) arrived. Joining the party, the governor declared that another year like the previous two (1767 and 1768) and the British Empire would be at an end.

Sir Francis Bernard, 1st Baronet, was the British governor of New Jersey (1758–1760) and then, from 1760 to 1769, of Massachusetts.

From our modern-day perspective, this sounds extreme, as if Governor Bernard did not see all the Americans that were still loyal to the crown. But he was on the ground, as we say today, and the chances are that he really felt that the British Empire—in America, at least—was coming to an end. The proof is that he summoned the first British regiments to Boston. They arrived on October 1, 1768.

What did the Massachusetts legislature say to King George III?

In January 1768, the Massachusetts House of Representatives sent a humble address to King George III. Some of the language is overdone, and even flighty, but there are sections in which the Bostonians’ case is laid out extremely well.

It is with the deepest concern that your humble suppliants would represent to your Majesty that your Parliament, the rectitude of whose intentions is never to be questioned, has thought proper to pass diverse acts imposing taxes on your Majesty’s subjects in America with the sole and express purpose of raising a revenue. If your Majesty’s subjects here shall be deprived of the honor and privilege of voluntarily contributing their aid to your Majesty.… If these Acts of Parliament shall remain in force … your people must then regret their unhappy fate in having only the name left of free subjects.

In all this time, had there been no real British regular troops stationed in Boston?

Correct. George III and his ministers believed, until 1768, that the disturbances in America were essentially civil in nature: that they could be contained by just a handful of officials. Governor Bernard’s dispatches convinced them otherwise, and the first British redcoats arrived in October 1768. Paul Revere, who doubled as a silversmith and an engraver, made a fine illustration of the soldiers coming ashore, complete with horses and artillery. Lacking barracks, most of the soldiers pitched tents on Boston Common.

How did Bostonians respond to the arrival of British troops?

One way to answer this is to quote from the Boston Evening Post. On October 3, 1768, the paper editorialized: “We now behold the Representatives’ Chamber, Court-House, and Faneuil-Hall, those seats of freedom and justice occupied with troops, and guards placed at the doors, the Common covered with tents, and alive with soldiers; marching and countermarching to relieve the guards, in short, the town is now a perfect garrison.” Two months later, on Christmas Day, the same paper commented “One great objection to the quartering of troops in the body of a town, is the danger the inhabitants will be in of having their morals debauched. The ear being accustomed to oaths and imprecations, will be the less shocked at the profanity, and the frequent spectacles of drunkenness.”

Did the townspeople adjust to having troops in their midst?

One thousand soldiers came at first, but their number was increased and by the summer of 1769 there were four thousand British soldiers in town, about one for every four civilians. Not only did this make the narrow peninsula crowded, but there were inevitable tensions between troops and townspeople. The Bostonians took a “good cop, bad cop” approach, meaning that they were very accommodating at certain times, and absolutely maddening at others. The British soldiers were not well paid by King George, and many were pleased to take up odd jobs working for the townspeople. The rope walks, which turned out the vital necessaries for ships, were a popular place of work.