The Sugar Act also put a tax on indigo, a blue dye used to color cloth. In Boston, some merchants decided to stop ordering fine clothing and other luxury goods from Britain. Others went about their usual business. They figured the tax would be lifted.
Britain, however, was only getting started with its taxation of the colonies. On March 22, 1765, Parliament passed the Stamp Act, and it forced colonists to pay taxes on all printed papers, including newspapers, books, marriage licenses, legal contracts, and playing cards. Some members of Parliament thought this new tax went too far, but supporters pushed it through anyway.
Colonists protesting the Stamp Act
As word reached the colonies of the new tax, a protest movement formed practically overnight. Throughout the colonies, angry crowds marched. At towns along the coast, ships carrying the dreaded stamps used to enforce the tax were prevented from docking.
The protests grew larger and louder as the summer went on. One of the most vocal groups was the Sons of Liberty. The members of the group included lawyers, merchants, and master craftsmen. Some of these men published articles in newspapers or pamphlets that described their points of view. These articles were often read out loud in taverns and other public places where other men were convinced by their arguments and joined the cause against the Stamp Act.
On August 14, 1765, the Sons of Liberty met to protest the taxes and hung an image of the city’s stamp tax agent, Andrew Oliver, on a branch of a tree. The mob took torches to the effigy, or image, lighting it on fire. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy their rage. They marched to Oliver’s home and broke windows and tore down his fences. Then some men burst in the door, probably wanting to confront Oliver, but he wasn’t there.
The Sons of Liberty targeted the highest elected officials, including Thomas Hutchinson, lieutenant governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony and a firm friend of the government. On August 26, an angry mob showed up at his home and smashed down the front door with an ax. Others climbed through broken windows. They took everything they could get their hands on, including clothing, silver, and paintings. They might have taken Hutchinson himself had he not escaped in the nick of time to a neighbor’s house. “Such ruins were never seen in America,” Hutchinson later wrote of the attack on his house.
Thomas Hutchinson
Back in Britain, word of the violence and protests shocked many in Parliament. They viewed America as a “rebellious child” who needed to be punished.
In the end, Britain decided to repeal the Stamp Act on March 18, 1766. They took it back because the protests were hurting British companies financially. However, the war over taxation without representation was far from over.
My cousin Charles knows that I love horses, so after I unpacked, he took me to visit the stable, where he let me brush his horse, Mercury.
“Mercury is a fine horse,” I said. “You have raised him well.”
“We’ve raised each other,” said Charles. “I’ve had Mercury since he was a colt and I was a lad. Look, I’ll show you.” Charles unlocked a cupboard, drew out a leather pouch, and handed me a document. “This is the bill of sale from when Father bought Mercury for me eight years ago, in 1765.”
“What’s this bumpy part?” I asked, rubbing my finger over a raised design stamped on one corner of the paper.
Charles frowned. “That,” he said, “is British robbery.”
What an odd thing to say! “What do you mean?” I asked him.
“The Stamp Act,” Charles explained. “We colonists had to pay a tax on any official paper, like bills of sale, newspapers, contracts, even playing cards. This stamp is proof that the tax was paid.”
“Playing cards? But that seems silly,” I exclaimed. “Why would anyone pass such a petty law?”
“Greed,” said Charles. “That’s the reason for all the king’s unfair taxes.”
“Is it still the law?” I asked. Father sells playing cards in his store, and I don’t remember seeing any stamps on them.
“No,” said Charles. “Mother and Father and others protested so hard that the Stamp Act was repealed. But the injustice of it won’t ever be forgotten.” He sighed. “And the British just keep demanding other taxes, like the tax on—”
“Tea,” we said together.
It’s no wonder the Patriots’ anger is boiling over, like a kettle that’s been on the fire too long. And it’s no wonder my sympathy for the Patriots’ cause is growing stronger, too.
The Green Dragon Tavern on Union Street in Boston’s North End was always a lively place. On one night, the mood in the smoke-filled public house was especially rowdy. A group of young men, including blacksmiths, cabinetmakers, printers, and cobblers, were huddled in a corner, banging their mugs of ale and puffing on their pipes. The owner of the tavern let them be, knowing the men needed to blow off some steam. After all, this was the meeting of the Boston chapter of the Sons of Liberty, and the men had a lot to be angry about.
The shouts and protests grew louder as one of the men stood to speak. He was in his mid-forties and wore shabby clothes and a cheap wig. His hands trembled. Who was this man? This was Samuel Adams, one of the fiercest Patriots in the colonies. He was extremely well educated, having studied at Harvard College. Though he could have made a lot of money, perhaps working as a lawyer, Adams was not interested in wealth or things like a nice house and fancy clothing. All he cared
