Showing posts with label American Revolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Revolution. Show all posts

Monday, 27 October 2025

The New Declaration of Independence: From Trump

 


This year marks the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. The present  state of the USA demands a new declaration -- against Donald Trump and Trumpism. 

The original declaration of 1776 blamed George III for the conflict. Most of the blame lay with Parliament, but focusing on the king made the argument for independence simple: the people versus a tyrant. The argument is much stronger today than in 1776, because Trump, unlike George III, truly is a tyrant. Ironically, just recently, George III's descendent, Charles III schooled Congress on the importance of the ideals proclaimed in the declaration.   

Charles did not mention that the original Declaration of Independence, in the part few read today, listed a long series of "repeated injuries and usurpations" it ascribed to George III, designed to establish "an absolute Tyranny over these States." 

Today, a New Declaration of Independence from Trump should be drawn up, with a similar list of the injuries and usurpations he and his MAGA toadies have inflicted on the USA. I propose something like the following:

He has repeatedly violated the Constitution and corrupted the system of separation of powers and checks and balances.

He is destroying the fabric of American institutions designed to advance education, health, and the general welfare. 

He has attacked and is attacking freedom of speech, the press, and assembly. 

He has violated the norms of diplomacy and human rights, killing and arresting people without evidence of any crime. 

He has made enemies of traditional allies and friends of the USA.

He is destroying one of the strongest economies on earth.

He has repeatedly violated the norms of human morality.

He has brought the USA into global contempt.

He has praised and assisted the enemies of human freedom, decency, and democracy.

He is a felon guilty of bribery, rape, pedophilia, tax evasion, extortion, and other crimes. 

He is a six times bankrupt who has repeatedly failed to pay his creditors.

He golfs on the taxpayers' money while the country burns.

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Saturday, 25 January 2025

Robert Burns and Women's Rights



The 25th of January is the birthday of Scottish poet Robert Burns (1759-1796). On the evening of that day, millions of his fans around the world gather for a "Burns' Supper" in his honor. After a meal of haggis, neeps, and tatties* they drink a toast of whisky to "The Bard" and listen to some of his poems. At midnight on January 1, much of the world sings "Auld Lang Syne," the song based on Burns' poem of that name. They pledge to "take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne!" 

Kindness appears in short supply around the world these days, and the supply is dwindling as rapidly as the number of eggs in Trump's USA. I wonder how many MAGAts sang those words about kindness this New Years with sincerity. 

But kindness, however crucial, is not my main theme here. It is human rights. Burns was a staunch defender of the rights of women as well as men. He wasn't always sensitive to that need. He was something of a womanizer, to put it bluntly. 

Before he became famous for his poetry, he had decided to take a job as an overseer and bookkeeper on a Jamaican sugar plantation, which was worked by enslaved Africans. He changed plans after his book of poetry was published to great acclaim in 1786. It is not clear if he ever denounced African slavery, at least directly. But he denounced injustice and inequality, notably in  "A Man's a Man for a' That."

For a few years after the publication of his book, Burns was the toast of Edinburgh, mingling with and lionized by Scotland's elite. That changed after the French Revolution began in 1789. Like many young men in Europe, he supported that revolution, and the earlier American one. The Scottish elite did not, and most of them distanced themselves from the radical Burns. He left Edinburgh and returned to farm near Dumfries, close to his birthplace. He married and became an exciseman (collector of customs duties), a government job that may have restrained his political radicalism. 

In 1792, Burns wrote "The Rights Of Women." The first stanza sets the tone:

While Europe's eye is fixed on mighty things,

The fate of empires and the fall of Kings;

While quacks of State must each produce his plan, 

And even children lisp the Rights of Man;

Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention,

The Rights of Woman merit some attention.

The poem was highly topical. Thomas Paine had just published The Rights of Man and Mary Wollstonecraft A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. These works alarmed and horrified the elites of Britain and much of Europe. By echoing their rhetoric in poetry, Burns marked himself as suspect in their eyes. 

The last stanza of the poem quoted approvingly a rallying cry of the French revolutionaries, "ca ira!" ("it will be fine") and seemed to place the "Majesty of Woman" above that of kings. 

By today's standards, Burns' list of women's rights may seem rather conservative. The rights he demanded were not political or even legal. They included protection, decorum (good manners), admiration and respect for women's opinions and influence. Good romantic that he was, Burns argued that the power of women lay in their ability to soften the harsher aspects of man's nature. 

All that may sound old-fashioned and anti-feminist, and certainly the sentiments were seized on by Victorian conservatives as an argument against women's suffrage and legal rights. But juxtapose Burns' praise of women to MAGAt statements and behavior toward women, and the difference is stark. Burns may have been something of a womanizer, but he never claimed things like "Your body, my choice." 

On this January 25, let's "take a cup of kindness" and have a wee dram in honor of "Rabbie" Burns, recently voted "The Greatest Scot." He narrowly beat out William Wallace, "Braveheart." 

*Neeps are turnips, tatties are potatoes.

PS. The first Burns Supper took place in Greenock, the town where I was born, on January 29th, 1801, which the organizers mistakenly though to be his birthday. It was later changed to the correct date of January 25th and has been held every year since on that day.




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Tuesday, 19 November 2024

Easter Special: The Resurrection of The Orange God

I'm looking forward to the 250th Anniversary of US independence, to see how the God-King Trump and the red MAGAts spin his fascistic policies while celebrating a revolution against alleged tyranny and for liberty, equality, and the pursuit of happiness. 

I'm wondering how they will deal with the irony of such a celebration led by a president who is a convicted felon, adjudicated rapist, pedophile, and insurrectionist. Can you imagine a Trump speech denouncing Benedict Arnold as a traitor? Arnold was a Boy Scout compared to Trump.

2024 was a leap year, and on November 5th, American voters took a leap into the abyss. A leap that is now producing AGONY for many of them, including his supporters. I mean, the price of eggs, FFS. 

IRONY, of course, is an enduring feature of the human condition, but the current world fairly drips with it. The world should be getting better, given our vast experience and knowledge, but it is getting worse.   

A presidential election in the USA is always a leap into The Twilight Zone, given the existence of the Electoral College and the massive fortunes spent on electing our political clowns. But this election outdid all the previous ones in its fantastically outrageous mockery of the democratic process, not to mention its sheer expense, lunacy and incompetence. 

When was the last time a convicted felon with scores of outstanding indictments against him ran for president? This snake oil salesman, father of 10,000 lies and nearly as many illicit affairs, sells bibles to the faithful to raise money for his campaign. The scenario drips with irony. Trump doesn't read and certainly doesn't heed the GOOD BOOK. He's broken virtually every commandment on a daily basis. 

"His" bibles are produced in China, a country he has repeatedly threatened and condemned. But they are cheap and profits are good. Never mind that a bible is a book you can get for free in the USA. Most churches give them away, or they did when I was an innocent kid.

Trump supporters swear that GOD sent him to save America from satanic "libtards and commies." Somehow, OUR godlike SAVIOR didn't manage to come up with a way to save a million or so Americans from the Covid pandemic. Bleach didn't work; or that horse medicine. The US, with 4% of the world population, racked up 20% of the deaths globally. How quickly we forget. 



To MAGAts, Donnie the Blessed is both savior and savvy, and most important, is opposed to gun control, their political litmus test. Trump agrees that guns are not the problem, people are. 

The solution appears to be eliminating people, because guns without people will not be a problem. With RFK, Jr. handling federal health services, that goal should be met before long.  



Another irony arises from the fact that Trump, a convicted criminal, ran against Kamala Harris, a successful former prosecutor. The felon should not have been able to run, but he won, which is all you need to know about the abject state of the USA as it heads into the 250th anniversary of its existence. 

P.S. Easter is a great time of year to test claims of Trump's divinity. Crucify him. If he comes back in three days, we will know he's the genuine article.

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Friday, 15 November 2024

America's Last King: A Far Better Man than Trump.

The July 4th holiday in the US always produces some reflections on America's last king, George III. Most of them celebrate the overthrow of a tyrant, allegedly a mad tyrant at that. 

In recent years, such denunciations of King George have often been expressed by Americans who desire to get rid of Trump. "We removed the tyrant King George in 1776 and we'll get rid of tyrant Trump as well." Bravo, but comparing Trump to George III is a distortion of history. It is like comparing a slightly tarnished pot to a completely blackened kettle.

Americans succeeded in booting out George III in 1776. They have failed twice to get rid of Trump. Why would a people who  rejected George III 250 years ago accept a virtual tyrant with powers George never had and did not try to get? 

Do the apparent majority of Americans feel comfortable going to bed with a president the Supreme Court has declared immune from prosecution for his acts? Charles I claimed similar powers in 17th century Britain. It cost him his head.

As a historian of Georgian Britain, I reject the claim that George III was a tyrant. In my opinion, the evidence shows that Trump is incomparably worse as a leader and a man than King George was. 

George III had flaws, but an urge to despotism was not one of them. He was sometimes obstinate but he was not a narcissistic sociopath. He remained faithful to Queen Charlotte, his wife of 60 years and mother of his 15 children, poor lady. Unlike most monarchs, he never took a mistress. Maybe it would have been better if he had.

George considered himself a constitutional monarch and took his job seriously. He venerated the (unwritten) British constitution. Unlike Trump, he understood his country's constitution. His father, Frederick, Prince of Wales, ensured he had a solid education in a wide array of subjects, including  politics and constitutional law. As early as age eight George could discuss current politics in speech and writing, in both English and German. He also learned French and Latin. He was the first British monarch to be thoroughly educated in science. 

As king, he was a strong supporter of the sciences and arts. He gave a large portion of his income to charity. He amassed a library of more than 65,000 volumes, and opened the collection to scholars including Samuel Johnson and Joseph Priestley. The collection is now part of the British Library and belongs to everyone.

Frederick, who died before his father George II, prepared his son George to be a "Patriot King," ruling in the interests of his people. Frederick believed, correctly, that the Hanoverian dynasty needed to improve its public image, and he passed that belief on to his son. 

The first two Hanoverian kings were highly unpopular. They preferred their native Hanover to England and spent long periods of time there. Many British people referred to both of them as "German George." 

In contrast, George III was born in Great Britain and considered himself British. At his coronation in 1761, he made much of the fact. "Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Britain." He made it clear that Britain and its prosperity would be his first concern. He spent his life of 82 years in the country. [Image: George as Prince of Wales, by Jean Etienne Liotard, 1754]



Initially, George III had little to do with the actions that angered the American colonists. They were devised by the king's ministers and approved by Parliament. The king opposed some of them, notably the Stamp Act of 1765. Part of that was personal. He detested the architect of the Stamp Act, Prime Minister George Grenville. 

In 1766, George was able to push Grenville out. His successor, Lord Rockingham, repealed the Stamp Act with the help of the king and the popular William Pitt. The king's efforts were applauded in the colonies. New York City erected a statue in his honor. 

In the following year, Parliament re-asserted its right to tax the American colonies. The furor the new taxes (Townshend Duties) produced led to all but a tiny tax on tea being repealed. Leaving the tea tax in place was intended to maintain the principle that Parliament could levy taxes on the colonies. (Image: George III by Johan Zoffany, 1771)




The king supported Parliament's right to tax the colonies. But it was Parliament's right, not his. After the Civil War of the 1640s, British monarchs could not levy taxes. That was Parliament's prerogative. 

The Declaration of Independence blames George III rather than Parliamenfor the conflict that followed, because it was simpler than explaining the bizarre intricacies of the British political system. The result was a distortion of reality that has become a standard meme of American history.

The Declaration listed 27 grievances against the British government. Most of them began with "He has...", personalizing the conflict into one of the people versus an overbearing king. It is worth noting that perhaps as many as half of the colonists were Loyalists who supported the king's government during the war. 

George III was no warmonger. One of his first actions as king had been to bring an end to the Seven Years' War with France and Spain at a time when Britain was winning victories everywhere. 

It is true that once the American war had begun, he was determined that it end in a British victory. He obstinately continued to support the war even after the disastrous British defeat at Yorktown (Oct. 1781), when most of his ministers urged him to give up. A few months later, he agreed and authorized peace negotiations.

Once independence was conceded he accepted, grudgingly, the new relationship with the former colonies. In 1785 he told John Adams, the first American ambassador to Britain, "I was the last to consent to the separation; but the separation having been made ... I have always said, as I say now, I would be the first to meet the friendship of the United States as an independent power." 

George III is often referred to as Mad King George, and people persist in connecting his loss of America to insanity. The problem with this view is that he showed no symptoms of mental illness before 1788, five years after American independence.  

British rule in the colonies was often insensitive and infuriating. The frustrations were increased by the immense distance between Britain and America. But no colonies of the time were as loosely governed by an imperial country as the thirteen who declared independence in 1776. They were also highly prosperous.
 
The timing of the revolution had more to do with the removal of the French threat from North America in 1763 than any actions of George III or the British government. Before then, the colonists felt the need for British protection. After then, they didn't. That emboldened them to push for change in the relationship between mother country and themselves. British actions exacerbated an already difficult situation.

The change to independent status made sense, but explaining it as the result of the tyranny of George III is misplaced. In 1785, an American Quaker, Hannah Griffits, provided an interesting perspective on the results of the revolution: 

The glorious fourth -- again appears 
A day of days -- and year of years 
The sum of sad disasters 
Where all the mighty gains we see 
With all their boasted liberty 
Is only change of masters. 

(Image: George III by Allan Ramsay, 1762)


Further Reading: 

John Brooke, King George III (London: Constable, 1972)
Stanley Ayling, George the Third (London, 1972)
Jeremy Black, America's Last King, George III (New Haven; Yale University Press, 2006)
Andrew Roberts, George III (London: Penguin Books, 2023)
 

Wednesday, 5 June 2024

The American Revolution Revisited: A War Between History and Memory



The 250th anniversary of the American Revolution and War for Independence is nearly upon us. It is destined to reach new heights of commercialism, with beer companies no doubt leading the pack. Corny commemorations and tall tales will all be a part of the celebration. Will there be room for calm reflection on the events of 1775-1783? Not much, I fear, especially in the Age of Trump and MAGA. In the best of times, dispassionate analysis of great events tends to be in short supply, overwhelmed and marginalized by the popular taste for hoopla. On this occasion calm analysis is likely to be obliterated by the Trumpets of MAGA. 

The revolution will be celebrated as a great victory for liberty and equality. It was, though more in the rhetoric of the Declaration of Independence than anything in reality. Awkwardly, it was also a war to preserve slavery. 

In 1773, British judge Lord Mansfield declared in the Somerset Case that slavery had no basis in English law. The Somerset ruling aroused panic among some slaveholders, mostly in the southern colonies. It helped unite them with the northern colonies, where the rallying cry was the more historically palatable "no taxation without representation." Traditional narratives of the revolution have tended to emphasize Britain's attacks on colonial liberty while ignoring the colonist's denial of liberty to the enslaved. 

Alarmed slaveholders denied the right of Parliament to pass laws affecting the internal or domestic affairs of the colonies. Slavery, they argued, was a domestic American issue. In 1775, on the verge of war, they accused the British of plotting slave revolts and Indian attacks as a means of subduing the rebellious colonies. In 1776, they decided that independence was necessary to prevent emancipation and loss of control over enslaved Blacks. 

In that sense the War for Independence had more in common with the Civil War than is generally acknowledged. Looked at from the perspective of the enslaved population, both were wars for liberty. Many Blacks absorbed the rhetoric of their white masters and saw the Revolutionary War as an opportunity to secure their freedom, by joining the British. Historians estimate that around 100,000 enslaved persons ran off to British lines between 1775 and 1783, 25,000 in South Carolina alone. They were not complacent bystanders, but active participants in the struggles that gave birth to a nation. 

History is often unpleasant, messy, and chaotic. It is seldom as simple as we would like it to be. Historical myth is the opposite: neat, generally pleasing -- at least to our prejudices -- and comfortably black and white. The myths are "alternative facts" or "fake history." Not surprisingly, myths tend to dominate if not smother actual history in the popular consciousness, the "public memory." By "actual history" I do not mean the "truth" but the result of painstaking historical research, writing, and interpretation. If well done, the result is our best current approximation of the truth. In that sense, history resembles science. Science is a more exact business, of course. Scientists can use repeated experiments to confirm their hypotheses. Historians do not have that luxury. They cannot repeat history. In most cases, they would not wish to. 

Historian Lewis Namier wrote that the writing of history "is not a visit of condolence." He might have added that the same is true of reading it. Learning our history is often difficult, troubling and confusing. If it never is, we are reading the wrong stuff. Some people avoid the problem by ignoring history, just as others avoid ethical problems by ignoring philosophy. Henry Ford is alleged to have said that "history is bunk." Apparently, he didn't say exactly that, but he did reject the past as dead and meaningless, not worth bothering about. 

Abraham Lincoln disagreed with Ford. In his Second Inaugural Address he declared, "My Fellow Americans, we cannot escape history." He understood that the terrible war nearing its end was the result of the country's failure to abolish slavery early in its history. Novelist William Faulkner held a similar view: "The past isn't dead. It is not even past." His characters are prisoners of their history, in this case the history of the Deep South. 

Karl Marx wrote in much the same vein in The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte (1852): "The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living." Marx prefaced that statement with "Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past." One does not have to be a Marxist to agree with that statement. Our history, like our biology, constrains us, for good or ill.



Peter McCandless, REMARKABLE CHARLESTONIANS IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION (Arcadia, The History Press, 2025)

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Tuesday, 5 December 2023

The Scottish Conspiracy Against American Liberty: The Case of South Carolina

Did a Scottish conspiracy to crush colonial liberty provoke the American Revolution? Nonsense, you will likely say. But evidence from the 1760s and 1770s shows that colonial anger at the actions of the British government was paralleled by a rise of anti-Scottish sentiment. Some colonial leaders, who called themselves Whigs, claimed that Scots dominated the government in London and were conspiring to undermine the people's liberties, to enslave them in fact. Whigs, who later called  themselves Patriots, used the term "enslave" freely, despite the fact that many of them were themselves slaveowners. "Liberty or Slavery" was a common Whig motto.   

The Scottish conspiracy theory, like so many things political in the colonies, originated in British politics. In the early 1760s, disgruntled English Whig politicians claimed that George III’s former Scottish tutor, John  Stuart, Earl of Bute was the gray eminence behind the alleged conspiracy. 

George selected Bute as his Prime Minister in 1762, two years after he became king. English Whig politicians concocted the conspiracy theory while Bute was in office. He didn't last long in the job. King George discharged him in 1763. Yet Whigs continued to accuse Bute of plotting behind the scenes to “enslave” the English people. They accused him of influencing policy through an affair with the king's mother. 

Bute's critics portrayed him as a boot. The "Boot" became a common and convenient symbol of tyranny in Britain and its empire. American Whigs used it during the Stamp Act Crisis in 1765 and right up to the beginning of the revolution in 1775. 

The Scottish conspiracy theory gained additional traction in America in the early 1770s as a result of a judicial decision in London. The judge who made the decision happened to be a Scot, Lord Mansfield. He was educated in England, trained in law, and became one of the top English judges, Chief Justice of the Court of King’s Bench. In the widely reported Somerset Case in 1772, Mansfield ruled that slavery had no basis in English law, in either precedent or statute. 

The Somerset decision sent shock waves through the colonies, especially the southern colonies, where the wealth of the elite relied on enslaved African labor. Nowhere was the Somerset ruling more resented than in South Carolina, where enslaved Africans made up a majority of the population. Many planters feared Parliament might extend Mansfield's ruling to the entire empire. The fear had little basis in reality. Mansfield's ruling was narrow and applied only to England. 

Abolition of slavery in the British empire occurred, of course, but not for more than sixty years. In the 1770s, the anti-slavery movement in Britain was still in its infancy. Parliament was filled with MPs and Lords who derived much of their income from the slave trade and colonial plantations. Abolitionism was beginning to have some impact on the British  consciousness, but it did not have enough influence on Parliament to achieve abolition of the slave trade, let alone slavery itself. The sugar planters of the West Indies seem to have understood this, because they did not use it as a reason to defy the home government. 

Slave owning colonists in the American colonies, especially in South Carolina, did not understand the reality of British politics. Or they pretended not to. They panicked at the news of the Somerset decision. Their fear that it might be applied to the colonies led them to embrace a solution that aligned them with northern activists challenging Parliament’s power to tax the colonies. 

The solution had already been articulated by Charleston merchant Christopher Gadsden. Since the late 1750s Gadsden had been arguing that Parliament had no right to legislate for the colonies on any domestic matters. In the northern colonies the rallying cry of those opposing British policies was "No Taxation without Representation.” That cry was adopted in the South as well, but it was not the main issue that united southerners against Britain. The central issue in South Carolina, although never articulated directly, was “No Representation, No Slavery.” The political elite decided that the best way to protect its domestic institutions (read: chattel slavery) was for South Carolina to control its own destiny. That decision was a crucial step in the unification of the thirteen colonies into what became the United States. 

By the early 1770s, antislavery views in the northern colonies were gaining adherents. Some of the men who would sign the Declaration of Independence in July 1776 had previously denounced human bondage. But in the interests of colonial unity, northern antislavery figures muted their criticisms and accommodated southern opinion. John Adams and Benjamin Franklin had both condemned slavery, but in 1775 they argued that slavery, like taxation, was a domestic issue for Americans to deal with. The British Parliament had no right to interfere in the internal affairs of the colonies. They must be sovereign, and they must unite to achieve sovereignty. The issue of slavery would have to wait until that was accomplished. 

To salve their consciences, many American Whigs predicted that slavery would be abolished after independence was achieved. That was safely in the future. In 1775, colonists north and south proclaimed that the British government was determined to enslave them, while also threatening the institution of slavery. And the architects of this policy were Bute, Mansfield, and other villains, including ones implanted in the heart of the colonies. The cartoon of 1775 below, Virtual Representation, illustrates the colonial Whig view. The man in tartan pants with the gun is Lord Bute. Next to him is Lord Mansfield in his judicial robes. The gun is pointed at colonists. Britannia, at far right is coming to the rescue, but is about to fall into a pit, presumably dug by the Scots. On the far left are two French Canadians, a soldier and a monk, who are supporting Bute and Mansfield. Why? In 1774, Parliament had passed the Quebec Act giving French Canadian Catholics freedom of religion. Many American colonists viewed this with alarm. They believed it was part of the British strategy to subdue the thirteen colonies, in this case by enlisting French Canadians to fight them. 

In retrospect the view that Bute, Mansfield, and other Scots in Britain and the colonies were engaged in a conspiracy to eliminate American liberty and abolish American slavery -- a disconnect and an oxymoron -- seems preposterous. To many people in the colonies, however, the Scottish conspiracy theory seemed plausible. It was politically useful to American Whigs and they had the claims of English Whigs to support it. 

British Whigs were the political descendants of the parliamentary faction that had opposed royal absolutism in the turbulent seventeenth century. The monarchs in question belonged to the House of Stuart. The Stuarts were a Scottish dynasty. They had ruled Scotland for centuries before James VI & I became king of England on the death of Elizabeth I in 1603. 

American colonists claimed to be defending liberties secured by the seventeenth century struggles against the heirs of James I: Charles I, Charles II, and James II. In the wake of the conflicts, many people in Britain and its colonies associated the Scottish name Stuart with authoritarianism. Lord Bute's given name, John Stuart, surely did little to help his chances of political success.

By the time of the American Revolution, Stuart monarchs no longer ruled Britain and had not for sixty years. Their immediate successors, the Hanoverian kings George I and II, had favored Whig politicians during their reigns, from 1714 to1760, a period often called The Whig Supremacy. The rival Tory Party all but disappeared. 

Things changed when George III ascended the throne in 1760, aged nineteen. He believed that Whig oligarchs had gained too much power and had corrupted British politics. He was eager to reduce their influence and end the successful but hugely expensive war with France and Spain. His current Whig ministers wanted to continue the war. George removed several of them from his government. Among them was the popular William Pitt, who had led Britain to victory in the Seven Years War (French and Indian War in American history). 

Pitt had become a hero in the colonies as well, as the names of numerous towns and streets in the USA attest, from Pittsburgh to Pittsboro to Pittsfield. Charleston, South Carolina named a street after him (I lived on it) and erected a statue of him in gratitude for his efforts to abolish the Stamp Act of 1765. The statue originally stood at the intersection of Broad and Meeting Streets. It is now located in the Charleston County Judicial Center. It is missing his outstretched arm. Ironically, a British cannonball knocked it off during their siege of the city in 1780. 

English Whig claims of “Scots tyranny” merged with growing colonial resentment of Scottish influence and economic competition in British America. Ever since the Act of Union, Scots had been free to settle and trade in England and its colonies. Thousands took advantage of the opportunity and migrated to greener pastures. Scottish merchants and traders descended on London and every corner of the empire. 

Many people in England resented this invasion by their former enemies. English writers and cartoonists portrayed Scots as lean and hungry, a plague of locusts eager to feast on the land of milk and honey. The poet Charles Churchill described Scotland as a land where half-starved spiders fed on half-starved flies. In his dictionary, lexicographer Samuel Johnson defined oats as a grain which in England is fed to horses and in Scotland is fed to the people. Scots were uncouth, uncivilized, impoverished -- and historically traitorous. The last is a reference to the Jacobite Rebellions which were designed to restore the Catholic Stuart monarchs to the throne of Britain. The rebellions broke out in Scotland, and Highland clans provided most of the Jacobite soldiery. The last of the revolts penetrated into central England before being crushed in 1746. Most adults in England could remember the panic and fear it generated, and they told their children.    

[English Anti-Scottish Cartoons: Sawney in the Boghouse and London: A Flight of Scotsman] 



In America, Scots flocked to South Carolina and Georgia in particular, lured by the prospect of quick riches. They became merchants, planters, doctors, and shopkeepers. The Crown also appointed Scots to many colonial offices, a trend that accelerated after the defeat of the last Jacobite Rebellion in 1746 and the accession of George III in 1760. From the perspective of the British government improving opportunities for Scots in the empire was a means of keeping them loyal. Americans were not the only ones struggling to achieve unity in the late eighteenth century. We tend to forget that Great Britain was also a new country, not much older than the United States. “British” was a new and fragile national identity. 

Many Charleston creoles resented the new Scottish ascendancy in trade and government. They accused Scots of favoring one another and benefiting unfairly from British colonial and trade policies. Merchant Christopher Gadsden was one of the most vocal critics of the Scottish invasion. In 1767 Gadsden built a huge wharf in Charleston, one of the largest in any American port. During its construction of his wharf, Gadsden remarked that he was going to "fill the foundation with imported Scotchmen, who are fit for nothing better." The statement reflected Gadsden’s disdain for Scots, in particular Scottish merchants, who he viewed as the undeserving beneficiaries of British trade policies. 

About the same time, Gadsden was developing the area near Boundary Street. He called it Middlesex and named one of the streets after John Wilkes, Whig MP for the county of Middlesex. Gadsden admired Wilkes for his spirited defense of English liberties, which took an anti-Scottish slant. He became famed for his attacks on Lord Bute in his journal The North Briton. Wilkes became a hero to many colonists in the 1760s, despite notoriously rakish behavior and obscenity charges stemming from his satirical poem, An Essay on Woman

Gadsden’s hostility toward Scots may have initially developed as a result of his service as a militia officer during the Cherokee War of 1760. At the request of South Carolina, the British government sent a Highland regiment to help quell the Cherokee uprising. Gadsden was angered that the government gave command of the campaigns to Scottish officers. Gadsden believed that a South Carolinian should have been in command. 

Peter Timothy, printer of the South Carolina Gazette, was another prominent Whig who resented the success of recent Scots arrivals. His animosity was directed in particular against a rival Scottish printer, Robert Wells, who had arrived in the early 1750s. Wells printed and imported books, and established a flourishing bookstore. In the late 1750s, he started a rival newspaper. Timothy resented the competition, and claimed that Wells benefited from an unfair advantage. Interestingly, Wells supported the protests against the Stamp Act in 1765, but later became a staunch defender of the British government. He also became known for his belligerent Scottishness. He used to dress his son William Charles in a tartan jacket and Scottish bonnet to demonstrate his national pride. Poor William suffered harassment from other young boys of the town as a result. Robert was also the object of Whig harassment. In 1775, he left for Britain, declaring he could not live under the "Lilliputian" regime in South Carolina. 

When Timothy complained that Wells benefited from an unfair advantage, one of the persons he blamed was another Scot, who like Bute, also happened to to be named John Stuart. He had come to Charleston from Scotland in 1748. After mixed success as a merchant, including some slave trading, he married Sarah Fenwick, daughter of a wealthy planting family. He became a planter and built the house that still bears his name, the Colonel John Stuart House on the western end of Tradd Street. 

During the Cherokee War of 1760 Stuart served in the South Carolina militia. He developed a good relationship with some of the people he was fighting, including Cherokee headman Attakullakulla, the Little Carpenter. In 1762, the British government, eager to prevent war, appointed him as Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the Southern Department. In that capacity he tried to keep the peace between the backcountry settlers and the southern Indian nations. 

It was partly at Stuart's instigation that the British government established the Proclamation Line in 1763, which declared the land of the Appalachians and beyond was to be reserved as Indian land. Stuart argued that shady land speculators and white settlers encroaching on Indian land constituted the main danger to peace. He made powerful enemies trying to prevent fraudulent land deals, including one in which planter William Henry Drayton tried to swindle the Catawba nation out of thousands of acres. 

In the spring of 1775, Drayton and his other enemies revenged themselves by charging that Stuart was conspiring with the British government to incite Indian attacks on the colonists. In fact, he was trying to prevent the southern Indian nations from going to war. This fabricated tale enraged many people in the city. Stuart had to flee Charleston with a liberty mob at his heels. He ended up in Florida, where he continued to advise the Indians. In 1776, he tried but failed to prevent a disastrous Cherokee attack on the settlers of the southern backcountry. He died ion Florida in 1779. 

Into this hornet's nest sailed another suspicious Scot, the last royal governor of South Carolina. Lord William Campbell was the 4th son of the Duke of Argyll, Scotland's most powerful aristocrat. In 1763, he had been stationed in Charleston as a navy captain, and had married the daughter of a local planter, Sarah Izard. The Campbells arrived in June 1775 aboard the ship Scorpion. Prior to their arrival, a rumor had spread that the ship was carrying 14,000 stand of arms to be distributed to Loyalists, slaves, and Indians. 

The rumor was baseless, but people were disposed to believe it. The Whigs "uncovered" another conspiracy around the time Campbell arrived. They arrested some "suspicious" slaves who, after "rigorous interrogation" confessed the existence of a plot for a slave revolt to help the British. The alleged organizer was a wealthy free black, Thomas Jeremiah. After a mockery of a trial, the tribunal of five white men found him guilty. He was hanged and his body burned a few days later. Campbell was appalled by the proceeding and attempted to pardon Jeremiah, only to find he was powerless. 

When the Whigs spread the news of Campbell's efforts to save the condemned man, a liberty mob surrounded his  house at 34 Meeting Street and threatened to drag him out into the street and force him to hang Jeremiah himself. Campbell fled Charleston to a British navy ship a few weeks later, bringing an official end to British rule in South Carolina. In fact, it had ended months before. 

Many Scots in the southern colonies became Loyalists once the revolution began. One of the most interesting and insightful explanations of Scottish loyalism was offered by Charles Webb of St. Paul’s Parish, a few miles southwest of Charleston. Webb was himself a Loyalist, but not a Scot. In July 1775, the parish committee reported him to a justice of the peace for “malicious expressions" against the Whigs, who he said were "greater rebels than ever the Scotch were.” This was an obvious reference to the Jacobite rebellions in Scotland. Webb pointed to a key reason why many Scots in America supported the British government: many of them or their families had suffered severe punishments after the crushing of the rebellions. He was not surprised, he said, that the Scots were “such loyal subjects, for a burnt child would dread the fire.” They had learned from experience the folly of fighting the British monarch. This was true, but Whig attacks on Scots in America also contributed to this result. 

Further Reading: 

Linda Colley, Britons: Forging the Nation, 1707-1837 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992)

Jim Piecuch, Three Peoples, One King: Loyalists, Indians, and Slaves in the Revolutionary South, 1775-1782. Columbia: University of South Carlina Press, 2008.

Robert G. Parkinson, Thirteen Clocks: How Racism United the Colonies and Made the Declaration of Independence. Omohundro Institute of Early American History and Culture, Williamsburg, Virginia, and the University of North Carolina Pres, Chapel Hill.

Alfred W. Blumrosen and Ruth G. Blumrosen, Slave Nation: How Slavery United the Colonies & Sparked the American Revolution (Naperville, Illinois: Source Books, 2005)

John Drayton, Memoirs of the American Revolution 2 vols., Charleston, 1821.

The Papers of Henry Laurens. 16 vols., Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1972-2003. Volumes dealing with the 1760s and 1770s.

Stanly Godbold, Jr., and Robert Woody, Christopher Gadsden and the American Revolution. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1983.

Daniel McDonough, Christopher Gadsden and Henry Laurens: The Parallel Lives of Two American Patriots. Susquehanna University Press, 2000.

Kelcey Eldridge. A Forgotten Founder: The Life and Legacy of Christopher Gadsden (MA thesis). Clemson University, 2018.

Richard Walsh, Charleston's Sons of Liberty: A Study of the Artisans, 1763–1789. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1959

Peter McCandless, Slavery, Disease, and Suffering in the Southern Lowcountry. New York: Cambridge University Press. 2011, 2014. 

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Wednesday, 8 November 2023

Charleston's Tea Parties, 1773-1774

Everyone has heard of the Boston Tea Party. Well, maybe not everyone, but it is one of the most famous episodes among the many events that led up to the American Revolution and War of Independence. But how many people know that Charleston, South Carolina had three tea parties? The first took place just a few days before the more famous Boston event, and was thus the first tea party in America. It was a more genteel affair,  at least on the surface.  [Image: Charleston Harbor, c. 1780] 



On December 1, 1773, an East Indiaman, the London, arrived in Charleston harbor carrying a large consignment of tea. Christopher Gadsdena merchant or factor, called a “Mass Meeting” of local Whigs and Liberty Boys to discuss how to prevent the tea being sold. They called in the three merchants who had agreed to receive the tea. After some “threats and flattery” they persuaded the merchants not to receive the tea. The captain of the London and the owner of the wharf where the ship was moored received letters threatening them if they did not move ship out into the harbor. Before that could happen, however, the collector of customs seized the tea and put it in cellar of the Exchange to await the hoped-for resolution of the tax dispute. Threats had been made but no violence occurred. It was a relatively genteel affair compared to that in Boston. Although the tea was not sold, the local firebrands were upset that it was landed in the city at all, especially after they learned what happened in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York. In the latter two cities, the tea-bearing ships had been prevented from landing at all. They had to return to Britain with their cargoes.

Charleston's second tea party took place in July 1774. A merchant ship with the ironic name of Magna Carta, unloaded three crates of tea which were registered with customs officials at the Exchange. Since the first "party" the year before, opponents of British policies had established a General Committee to act as a watchdog for violations of the embargo. The General Committee summoned the ship's captain and demanded an explanation. Captain Maitland claimed that he was unaware his ship was carrying the tea. He offered to dump it into the river at his own cost. The customs officials refused to let him pay for and take the tea. The Liberty Boys decided Maitland was being duplicitous and took direct action. They aroused a mob of several hundred angry citizens and set out with tar and feathers to teach him a painful, possibly deadly lesson. Fortunately for Maitland, he learned of their approach and escaped to another British ship in the harbor. The Liberty Boys found the tea on the ship and took it to the Exchange to be stored. [Image: Charleston Harbor, 1773] 



The third Charleston tea party was a bit more like the Boston event in that it involved actual dumping of the tea into the harbor. In November 1774 the ship that had rescued Maitland, the Britannia, arrived carrying seven chests of tea. The captain, Samuel Ball, repeated Maitland’s plea, stating that he did not know of the presence of the “mischievous drug” on his ship. Ball was not being truthful, but the General Committee accepted his explanation and blamed the three Charleston merchants who had agreed to accept the consignments of tea. The committee convinced the merchants to dump the tea into the Cooper River at a loss to themselves. The memory of the liberty mob action against Maitland may have helped to persuade them. A large crowd gathered to watch them pour the tea into the water, but there was no violence. Peter Timothy reported the event with some glee in his South Carolina Gazette, calling the tea dumping “an oblation to Neptune.” He reported that the crowd dispersed afterwards as if nothing had happened.

Why is the Boston Tea Party so well known, while Charleston's tea parties were almost forgotten? One reason is the dramatic nature of the Boston event. The partygoers, members of Boston's Sons of Liberty, dressed as Native Americans and attacked the tea-laden merchant ship yelling war whoops and brandishing tomahawks. The image was violent and made a lasting impression, and throughout the war that followed, British cartoonists often portrayed the American rebels as Indians. Another, and even more important reason for the fame of the Boston Tea Party, is the British government's severe reaction.  Parliament passed a series of Coercion Acts (1774) designed to punish Boston and Massachusetts for tolerating such a wanton destruction of private property. The acts closed the port of Boston, suspended the colonial charter, and shut down the regular courts. They were to remain in effect until Massachusetts paid for the destroyed tea and the Crown was satisfied that order had been restored. The effect of the acts was to stifle the local economy and put Massachusetts under direct British rule. A third reason is that the history of the Revolution was long dominated by northern scholars, especially New Englanders, and they gave scant attention to southern events. Regional prejudice played a part, but after the Civil War, so did the perception that the Slave dependent South did not fit well into the narrative of a war for liberty.  

The government in London hoped that the Coercion Acts would deter other colonies from supporting resistance to British policies. The "Intolerable" Acts, as they soon became known in the colonies, had the opposite effect. By punishing the entire colony of Massachusetts rather than the individuals involved in dumping the tea, the acts aroused fears in the other colonies of being treated in a similar manner. The acts strengthened the influence of  radicals such as Sam Adams in Boston and Christopher Gadsden in South Carolina, who were already demanding independence in practice if not in name. 

Further Reading:

Stanly Godbold, Jr., and Robert Woody, Christopher Gadsden and the American Revolution. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1983.

Daniel McDonough, Christopher Gadsden and Henry Laurens: The Parallel Lives of Two American Patriots. Susquehanna University Press, 2000.

George C. Rogers, Jr., "The Charleston Tea Party: The Significance of December 3, 1773" The South Carolina Historical Magazine, 75, No.3 (July 1974), pp. 153-168.

Jordan Baker, "The Charleston Tea Parties," The Charleston Tea Parties – Legends of America

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