“Best to remove farther off in the country”

On 3 Feb 1787, Sarah Cochran appeared before the Loyalists Commission in Saint John, New Brunswick.

She described how her husband John “went to Boston with Govr. [John] Wentworth” in late August 1775, as recounted here.

At the time, she and at least some of her children were living on the family farm in Londonderry. According to the Loyalist leader Abijah Willard, another commission witness, the Cochrans’ “Land was in a very good part of the Town, near the meeting house.“

(The picture here shows the First Parish Meetinghouse in Derry, New Hampshire, which might be the building Willard referred to. The oldest part of this church dates to 1769. It’s been significantly enlarged, and the impressive tower went up in 1822.)

Sarah Cochran testified that around October:

about 2 months after he went, she was ordered to quit the Premises, which she did & was moving her goods, on which a Mob rose & took every thing she had, calling them ye goods of a Tory. She got part back, but lost to amount of £150 lawful.

Unfortunately for us, Sarah didn’t recount where she went. Possibly she took refuge with her own family, or even with other members of the Cochran clan who were siding with the rebels.

We know Sarah didn’t follow her husband into Boston that fall, or to Halifax and then New York the following year. Instead, the next sign of her appears in the 29 May 1777 Independent Chronicle of Boston, publishing an “Extract of a letter from John Cochran, on Long-Island, to his wife in New-Hampshire, intercepted with others sent by the late Governor Winthrop to his sister”:

My Dear,

I would willingly advise, but know not how or what to advise you to at this distance. I shall leave it intirely to your judgment what you think best to be done in these unhappy days, for I am so puzzled about giving my advice what to do, that I am almost crasy.

However, I think upon the whole, it would be best to remove farther off in the country, as I am afraid you will suffer where you are, before it will be in my power to protect you, as there will be nothing but destruction of property without any reserve. In that case, I would have you send off the most valuable effects you have left to some place, if you know of any.

I shall either hope to find you at the Isle Shoals, or up at Londonderry—If you intend to tarry where you are, I pray for God’s sake that there be no CLERGYMAN in the house; if their is, your life is not worth a farthing as the whole race of that tribe will be spilt.

If you see any prospect of the affairs being given up without bloodshed, I had rather find you at Hampton than any where else…

I don’t know why Cochran was so anxious about his wife giving refuge to a minister. It’s possible that the family was Presbyterian and feared their ministers would be suspected of disloyalty by New England Congregationalists.

In June 1779 the New Hampshire legislature moved to confiscate the property of men away from the state and “residing with the enemys thereof.” Its new law listed individual names starting with former governor Wentworth, Surveyor General Samuel Holland, and one-time Stamp Act administrator George Meserve. The fourth name was John Cochran.

TOMORROW: Serving the Crown.

Portsmouth’s Anti-Stamp Protest

As I related yesterday, the Stamp Act administrator for New Hampshire, George Meserve, resigned his post immediately after he arrived in Boston on 10 Sept 1765 and realized how unpopular it would make him. But it took time for that news to reach Portsmouth.

Therefore, exactly 250 years ago on 12 September the people of that town hanged and burned Merserve in effigy. That was just what one did with stamp agents that fall.

I’ve previously quoted from Charles W. Brewster’s description of that event in Rambles About Portsmouth (1859), but a look at the New-Hampshire Gazette for 13 Sept 1765 shows me that account isn’t complete or accurate. (Likewise, the image above dates from the nineteenth century, alas.)

So here’s the first report of what happened, datelined “PORTSMOUTH, Sept. 13”:

YESTERDAY Morning by Day-Light, was exhibited to public View, at the Haymarket of this Town, the EFFIGIES of a S—p M—r, the D—l, and a Boot between them—previous to which,——

On Wednesday [11 September], immediately after the Post came to Town and brought the News of the arrival of Capt. Daverson from London at Boston, a special Court for the Trial of a Person in an unpopular Office, was held here—

The Prisoner made his Appearance at the Bar by his virtual Representative---After being charg’d with the unnatural Crime of accepting a Promise of Reward from his Grandmother, for using his Endeavour to impoverish and starve his Mother and her Daughter, of whom she had conceiv’d a Jealousy of her Growth and suppos’d Riches---to which he plead, Not Guilty, and put himself on his Country for Trial; several Arguments were used in behalf of the Respondent, but the Evidence being so full, the Jury brought him in Guilty, without going off the Stand---

The Judges then sentenced the Prisoner to be carried from hence to the Place of Execution, and there to hang by the Neck till Dead; then his Remains to be taken down and burnt to Ashes, which was attended by the Grand Deceiver, who held this Label——

GEORGE my Son, you’re young in Station,
But yet may serve me in this Nation;
Seven Hundred Sterling may be lost;
Take this, ’twill amply pay your Cost—

Offering him an empty Purse.

On one Arm of the S—p M—r in Capitals were placed G. M. on the other S— M— Before him was his Answer;

My Heart misgives, ’tis not the Thing,
High in a Halter, thus to Swing—

Another Label from the D---l to B--e was,

Go on, bold B--te, compleat their Fall,
And hurl Destruction on them all.

His Answer,

I would, Great Sir, but ’tis a Notion,
To be thus hamper’d in Promotion.

On B--te was placed the St—p A--t, and over the A--t——

B–te and the Deel, believe it fact,
First bred, then hatch’d this cursed A--t.

On the Post which supported the whole, was wrote in large CAPITALS,

HERE ARE ACTUALLY AND VIRTUALLY REPRESENTED THE FIRST FOUNDERS AND FIRST INTENDED EXECUTOR OF THE EXECRABLE S—p A—T. Let no one on his Peril endeavour to remove them from this justly deserved, Exalted STATION.

N.B. It was remark’d, that about Nine o’Clock Yesterday Morning, the Devil attempted to quit the Place assign’d him, and had like to have made his Escape, but was by the Dexterity of his Enemies made secure again.

Last Evening the above Effigies were consumed in the Presence of some Thousands of Spectators, on a Hill near the Town, amidst the loud Acclamations of all present; a large Bonfire having been prepared for that Purpose. The whole was conducted with the greatest Order that could be expected on such an Occasion.

What was all that about a “Grandmother”? My best guess is that that’s connected with the many references to the Earl of Bute, George III’s first Prime Minister, who was Scottish. Was Scotland (the grandmother) seeking to impoverish Britain (the mother) and America (the daughter) through the Stamp Act? Bute had actually been out of power for years when the law passed, but Americans continued to blame him as a secret corruptor of the king right up until the war.

TOMORROW: Meanwhile, in New York.

The Day Liberty Tree Got Its Name

Late on Tuesday, 10 Sept 1765, a ship reached Boston from London carrying three items of great political significance:

• George Meserve, the young gentleman appointed to collect the stamp tax in New Hampshire.
• One box of stamped papers for him to distribute there.
• News that the Grenville ministry had been replaced by a new government which included William Pitt, the Marquess of Rockingham, and other Whigs who had opposed the Stamp Act.

There was great rejoicing.

In fact, there was so much rejoicing that Meserve realized he’d made a terrible mistake in accepting the job of stamp agent. Before venturing off the ship, “he sent a Letter to a Friend to be communicated to the Public, signifying that as such an Office would be disagreeable to the People in general he should resign it.” And there was even more rejoicing.

That is, if we can count “a great Number of his Friends and other Gentlemen” who came to Long Wharf to watch Meserve disembark as being a celebration rather than a threat. Being no fool, he “confirmed what he before had wrote, and declared…[he was] determined never to act in that Capacity.” The crowd gave three cheers, “which were repeated at the Head of the Wharf, and again on the Exchange.” With Andrew Oliver, Augustus Johnston, and Jared Ingersoll’s announcements in August, that meant three and a half of New England’s four stamp masters had resigned. (I’m counting Ingersoll as going only halfway.)

According to the Boston News-Letter, “in the Evening many loyal Healths were drunk by Numbers of Gentlemen who met at several public Places for that Purpose.” But the big celebration came the next day,

for the Morning following (Wednesday) was ushered in with the Ringing of all the Bells in Town, and Joy and Gladness appeared in every Countenance; at the South Part of the Town the Trees for which many have so great a Veneration, were decorated with the Ensigns of Loyalty, and the Colours embroidered with several Mottos (which we have not been able to obtain—)

on the Body of the largest Tree was fixed with large deck Nails, that it might last (as a Poet said, like Oaken Bench to Perpetuity) a Copper-Plate with these Words Stamped thereon, in Golden Letters, THE TREE OF LIBERTY, August 14. 1765. A Report of these Decorations collected a great many of the Inhabitants who were at Leisure, where they were saluted with the Firing of a Number of Chambers, and regaled with a Plenty of Liquor.

Towards Evening a Guard of Men armed, belonging to the Militia, were posted near the Trees when the Colours were struck, to prevent any Disorders that might arise among such a Concourse.

Until this date, 250 years ago today, that big tree outside Deacon John Eliot’s in the South End was simply that big tree. For the next ten years it was known as “Liberty Tree” (or “Liberty-Tree,” but not “the Liberty Tree” in period sources) until it was cut down, and even after that Bostonians used “Liberty-Stump” as a landmark.

At the time Lord Adam Gordon happened to be in Boston. He was an army colonel and a Member of Parliament, and even though (or because) he was a Bute and Grenville supporter the town fathers wanted all inhabitants to be on their best behavior in front of him.

TOMORROW: Meanwhile, up in Portsmouth.

Lord Bute, Meserve, and the Devil

Thursday I quoted from the Rev. Jeremy Belknap’s account of the Stamp Act protests in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Here’s a more lively account from Charles Warren Brewster’s Rambles About Portsmouth, published in 1859.

The London government appointed George Meserve, who was in England at the time, as stamp agent for New Hampshire. But he didn’t last long in office.

on arriving at Boston on the 6th of September, (about seven weeks before the law was to take effect), the excited state of the public feeling induced him to resign his office of stamp master.

His resignation was not known here [in Portsmouth]; so the indignant populace, on the night of the 11th of September, placed on the hill in front of the jail a triple effigy, representing Lord Bute, who was father of the bill, Meserve and the Devil. A board was extended from the mouth of the Devil to Meserve’s ear, on which was written:

George, my son, you are rich in station,
But I would have you serve this nation.

The effigies stood through the day, and in the evening they were carried about the town with much clamor, and then burnt.

Making effigies of two men and the Devil and throwing them in a bonfire at the end of the day was how Portsmouth, and other New England seaports, traditionally celebrated the 5th of November, Pope Night. I don’t know why folks almost always hung two effigies, but they did.

John Stuart, the third Earl of Bute, had been the tutor of George III, and served as First Minister in 1762-63. He brought the Seven Years’ War to a close, but lost favor with the British people and the king. Bute’s Tory politics made him an enemy to the Whigs, and his Scottish background made him an easy target. John Wilkes lambasted him with The North Briton, and John Horne accused him of having an affair with the king’s mother. American politicians blamed Bute for the Stamp Act of 1765 even though he had been out of office and favor for years when it passed.

Back to Portsmouth. As described yesterday, Meserve publicly repeated his resignation when he arrived home in the fall of 1765. But the controversy wasn’t over. With the new year, Meserve received his formal commission as stamp agent again. A committee of locals called on him. Brewster related the story this way:

He takes from his desk the commission he has just received, gives it up to them, and submits to the administration of an oath by Wiseman Claggett, that he would not directly or indirectly attempt to execute the office. The commission is taken—on the point of a sword it is elevated, and the procession moves down Vaughan and up King street, bearing the trophy, hailed by the shouts of the “sons of liberty.”

Carrying the commission around on a sword conveyed the symbolic message that the document was too foul to touch. Other processions of the time bore stamped paper at the end of long poles.

Lorenzo Sabine’s reference to American Loyalists added:

After the repeal of the [Stamp] Act, and on the arrival of Secretary [Henry Seymour] Conway’s circular in 1766, enclosing a resolution of Parliament to the effect that the Colonies should make recompence to such persons as had suffered injury or damage in consequence of their assisting to execute the Act, Meserve applied to the Assembly of New Hampshire for compensation, which application was referred to a committee, who made a report adverse to his claim, and it was dismissed.

Meserve ended up going with the British military to Halifax in 1776.

“An Exhibition of Effigies at Portsmouth”

In 1765, the Stamp Act was due to take effect on 1 November. And four days after that was the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, which young men in most American seaports celebrated with processions, bonfires, and perhaps a few hangings in effigy. New Englanders called this holiday “Pope Night.”

That year, Boston’s town fathers worked hard to convince the South End and North End gangs, led by shoemaker Ebenezer Mackintosh and shipwright Henry Swift respectively, not to have their usual Pope Night parades and brawls. They feared the violence might get out of hand, and ruin the town’s reputation. That story is pretty well known.

I didn’t know, however, that there was a similar effort on a smaller scale up in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Unlike Boston, that port doesn’t appear to have had rival Pope Night gangs. But town officials did worry about the town’s young men getting out of control.

This is how Portsmouth handled the Stamp Act crisis, according to the Rev. Jeremy Belknap’s History of New Hampshire:

The person appointed distributor of stamps for New-Hampshire, was George Messerve, son of the late Colonel, who died at Louisbourg [in 1758]. He received his appointment in England, and soon after embarked for America, and arrived at Boston. Before he landed, he was informed of the opposition which was making to the act; and that it would be acceptable to the people if he would resign, which he readily did, and they welcomed him on shore.

An exhibition of effigies at Portsmouth had prepared the minds of the people there for his reception; and at his coming to town he made a second resignation, on the parade, before he went to his own house. This was accepted with the usual salutation; and every one appeared to be satisfied with the success of the popular measures. Soon after, the stamped paper destined for New-Hampshire arrived at Boston in the same vessel with that intended for Massachusetts; but there being no person in either Province who had any concern with it, it was, by order of [Massachusetts] Governor [Francis] Bernard, lodged in the castle.

The stamp-act was to commence its operation on the first day of November. . . . In the mean time, the newspapers were filled with essays, in which every plea for and against the new duties was amply discussed. These vehicles of intelligence were doomed to be loaded with a stamp; and the printers felt themselves interested in the opposition. On the last day of October, the New-Hampshire Gazette appeared with a mourning border. A body of people from the country approached the town of Portsmouth, under an apprehension that the stamps would be distributed; but being met, by a number from the town, and assured that no such thing was intended, they quietly returned.

The next day, the bells tolled, and a funeral procession was made for the Goddess of Liberty; but on depositing her in the grave, some signs of life were supposed to be discovered, and she was carried off in triumph. By such exhibitions, the spirit of the populace was kept up; though the minds of the most thoughtful persons were filled with anxiety.

It was doubtful, whether the Courts of Law could proceed without stamps; and it was certain that none could be procured. Some licentious persons began to think that debts could not be recovered, and that they might insult their creditors with impunity. On the first appearance of this disorderly spirit, associations were formed at Portsmouth, Exeter and other places, to support the Magistrates and preserve the peace.

The fifth of November had always been observed as a day of hilarity, in remembrance of the powder-plot. On the following night, a strong guard was kept in Portsmouth. By these precautions, the tendency to riot was seasonably checked, and no waste of property or personal insult was committed; though some obnoxious characters began to tremble for their safety.

“Obnoxious characters” being Belknap’s terms for supporters of the royal government.