The Stamp Act Protest Pageant—Script
[Scene: The Playing Area (henceforth, the PA) is cleared, save for the flat stretched across the Customs House stairs representing the gate to the fort. LIGHTS are dim on the PA, bright on the lectern.]
MASTER OF CEREMONIES introduces all non-pageant individuals who have to be introduced; allows all who have to be allowed to speak to speak.
Then—formalities concluded—he introduces FREDERICK COOKINHAM, who spends 3–5 minutes describing the Bowling Green area in 1765.
Fred then introduces THOMAS FLEMING, who spends 3–5 minutes describing the population of New York City in 1765. Tom concludes:
And now, without further ado, here is novelist Jonathan Carriel, author of the Thomas Dordrecht Historical Mystery Series, to narrate the pageant of the Stamp Act Protests in New York City.
NARRATOR:
Good evening! Two hundred fifty years ago tonight, the Stamp Act Crisis, which had convulsed all North America for months, came to a dramatic head right here on this spot, Bowling Green, New York City. What was it all about? What brought one-tenth of the town’s population of twenty thousand out to Bowling Green on the evening of November first, 1765?
The Stamp Tax was the first time that Britain had directly taxed the colonies—the first instance of “taxation without representation.” The British had doubled their national debt during the recent French and Indian War, and their politicians were desperately trying to pay it off. The Prime Minister, George Grenville, wanted to make the American colonies pay a substantial portion, though all the provinces were still paying off the huge debts they had incurred. The House of Commons thought his Stamp Tax was perfectly fair, and passed it in February 1765, to take effect on November first.
The news came to a recession-ridden America in April 1765. In May, Patrick Henry presented the Virginia Resolves, spelling out how wrong the Stamp Tax was, and insisting that it must be defied.
In June, the Massachusetts assembly called for an unprecedented congress of all the colonies, to be held here in New York City in October.
In July, the tax—and how to deal with it—became the chief topic of all public discussion throughout America. Virtually everyone perceived the tax as surefire ruin, though they were far from unanimous about how to respond. But they all began to think of November first as a deadline: everything would be different after November first.
In August, there were two actions against the Stamp Tax in Boston. The first was an orderly protest led by an organization called the Sons of Liberty. The second one … wasn’t. No one was killed, but there was serious property damage, and all Americans were shocked by that, because Americans strongly believed in property rights.
The Prime Minister had been dead wrong about his tax: it offended every class, every business, and every profession. Americans looked at it as an economic life sentence.
In September, New York City’s hometown newspaper, the Weekly Post-Boy, proposed that a solemn demonstration should be held on November first, a funeral for “Lady North American Liberty,” who was not expected to survive the “cruel stamp upon her vitals.” Later that month, New York City’s radical faction published a news-sheet which coherently set forth the strongest objections yet. Back in 1765, Americans had no thought of independence. They believed in the king, but they thought the Parliament was incompetent and the cabinet ministers were positively wicked. The radicals pushed the envelope of debate as far as anyone dared, by asking why Americans should be so loyal, if the British government treated us so shabbily, and disrespected our “rights as Englishmen.”
[LIGHTS slowly fade up to full on the PA as virtually all cast silently march out single-file and form a semicircle facing the audience. Narrator continues during this entrance.]
In October, the Stamp Act Congress convened in New York’s City Hall on Wall Street, where the statue of Washington is today. But the Congress refused to divulge its deliberations to anyone. The main event for New Yorkers was the arrival, on October twenty-third, of a shipment of stamps from England to be used for their taxes. When the stamp ship was escorted to its anchorage by two warships, right here in front of the Battery, they confronted two thousand New Yorkers, many of them armed militiamen, lined up on the edge of the harbor, grimly determined that the stamps were not to be landed. (7:00 (4:45 from start of narration)
ALL (quietly, slowly, as with grim determination—led by Parade Marshall):
No Stamps! No Stamps! No Stamps!
NARRATOR:
For hours and hours that day, there was a stand-off. The Navy was not about to fire on the populace, but the people would not allow the stamps to be landed. Various dignitaries were rowed back and forth, desperately trying to arrange a compromise. When night fell, the people went home, promising to return at dawn, to keep up the pressure.
ALL (slowly walking offstage, whispering):
No Stamps! No Stamps! No Stamps!
[LIGHTS fade completely out on the PA.]
NARRATOR:
But they were outwitted. The intransigent royal governor, Cadwallader Colden, the most hated man in New York City, roused the Navy in the middle of the night, and had the crates of stamps rowed ashore and secured here, inside the fort.
[LIGHTS fade back up on the PA. ALL re-enter, but look outward and show amazement, distress, confusion, anger; they form “discussion groups,” and silently engage in “discussions.” (TWO MEN start shaking their fists at each other; WIVES pull them apart.)]
NARRATOR:
Now what could they do? They had a week left, but everyone was working overtime, struggling to get the last ships out of port, trying to earn as much money as possible for the expected hard times to come. They all wanted to get the stamps out of the fort, but there was no agreement beyond that. Some wanted to send the stamps back to England. Some thought they should be locked up until Parliament undid the foolish tax. The most radical contended that if the people ever got hold of the stamps, they should burn them and be done with it!
[SPOTLIGHTS on THREE MEN, who angrily march to “center stage,” where they brandish “broadsides” with the text on them.]
It was that afternoon that printed broadsides were suddenly posted all over the town, issuing an unmistakable threat to anyone who might slide back against the general determination to defy the Stamp Tax. The broadside was brief and pointed:
THREE MEN (loudly and in unison, with the same gestures):
Pro Patria
NARRATOR:
(that’s “For the Nation”)
THREE MEN:
The first man that makes use of stamped paper …
Let him take care of his house, person, and effects!
Vox Populi
NARRATOR:
(“the voice of the people”)
THREE MEN:
We dare!
[The Three Men aggressively put their broadsides into the laps of people seated in the front row of the audience, then fade back for the next scene.]
NARRATOR:
The Sons of Liberty were deadly earnest and ready to twist arms to get their point across. Not an easy-going, tolerant bunch!
But everybody was scrambling, in that last week, to get work completed, purchases made, funds secured, plans organized. On the last day, October thirty-first—not Halloween, incidentally, only the minor religious holiday of All Hallows’ Eve—the exhausted business leaders of the city met together. They signed the first non-importation agreement. They hoped, but didn’t know, that the other colonies would follow suit. Until the Stamp Act was repealed, they unanimously agreed to boycott the British goods that were the mainstay of American commerce. This would make the American recession much worse, but it would also badly hurt British commercial interests—who at least had “representation” in Parliament.
On October thirty-first, too, the Post-Boy reminded its readers of its call for a demonstration, by printing “A Funeral Lamentation on the Death of Liberty,” which concluded, “who finally expires this thirty-first of October, in the year of Our Lord, Seventeen Sixty-Five, and of Our Slavery, One!”
And then it was November first, and the Stamp Act was law. The populace was determined not to use stamps, and therefore all non-cash business ground to halt. No contract, lease, deed, or bill of sale would be enforceable if they lacked the King’s stamp. No ship’s manifest, no customs declaration could be honored without a stamp. Any newspaper, magazine, or book printed without a stamp was illegal.
The wharves, the exchanges, the law courts were suddenly quiet—save for the many newly-unemployed people aimlessly milling about. (9:30)
[LIGHTS full up on PA. PARADE MARSHALL leads out, followed by DRUMMER, beating a quick march rhythm. SPOTLIGHTS first on the drummer, then the Union Jack carrier, then on the rail/effigy carriers. A FEW people come out to see them as they march around the PA. They jeer at the effigy, throw apple cores, stones at it, cheer the carriers. Slowly, the crowd grows to half the company.]
At dusk on November first, just east of here, on the waterfront, the protests got under way. They started with a small parade. They carried a British flag, because they still thought of themselves as British. Have you ever heard of someone threatened with being “run out of town on a rail?” That wouldn’t be fun! But if you couldn’t get your hands on the live object of your contempt, such as the despised Governor Cadwallader Colden, then you might work up a full-scale effigy of him, hoping he and his few supporters would perceive the intensity of your anger.
The parade went past the Merchants’ Coffee House on Wall Street, where it was applauded; and on to City Hall, where the mayor felt it his duty to order the parade to disperse. The mayor was a relatively powerless figure in those days, so he was simply brushed aside. The parade turned down Broadway to Bowling Green, because everyone knew Governor Colden was living inside the fort—for his own protection.
[Rail-carriers halt. Front carrier turns about, facing his partner. Together they gleefully bounce, rock, and see-saw the effigy. Populace laughs, cheers, cat-calls.]
NARRATOR:
Although Colden is safe inside the fort, he has some very valuable personal property outside it, in a carriage shed over on Battery Place.
[AUDIO effect: carpentry demolition]
Oh my! I wonder what that could be!
[SPOTLIGHTS on carriage. Two bearers bring it onto the PA, incidentally masking the female puppet, its Manipulator, and the two Voices. The other Manipulator, removes Colden’s effigy from the rail, moves behind the carriage with it, resets it with a broomstick. (Rail-carriers stow the rail; join crowd.) Crowd cheers.]
NARRATOR:
They’ve broken into the carriage house and stolen the governor’s very, very expensive carriage! Now normally, these folk have little toleration for thieves, but they consider that Governor Colden is planning to dip into their pockets, so perhaps some tit for tat is acceptable. But that was not to be the governor’s sole humiliation: the radicals had planned a very rude entertainment, with Governor Colden in the starring role!
[The first puppet (a near-life-size young female with long blond tresses) is thrust out the window of the door of the carriage, facing upward.]
VOICE 1 (a male, using falsetto):
Help! Help!
[The Colden effigy, its control mechanism lengthened, is thrust out the same window, facing downward atop the female. The puppet-manipulators presently maneuver the two faces together. Much “audience” reaction from the crowd.]
VOICE 2 (a robust basso):
Oh ho ho, my pretty! Let me put my stamp upon you!
VOICE 1:
Stop, stop! You cad, you cad!”
[Manipulators push the female head upward, to knock against the Colden head—a la Punch ’n Judy.]
VOICE 2:
Do not protest, my sweet! I have your virtual consent!
VOICE 1:
Oh help! I am a-taxed!”
VOICE 2:
It’s only a little one, my precious!
VOICE 1:
It’s poxy enough for all America, you cad!”
VOICE 2:
Just try it, my lovely! It may grow on you!
VOICE 1:
It will ruin me, monster!
VOICE 2:
But my own, ’tis your duty to submit!
VOICE 1:
Nay, you cad, ’tis my duty … to whack your bollocks!
[From within the carriage is heard a very loud “thump.” VOICE 2 howls in pain. Manipulators gyrate the Colden figure to indicate distress. The thump, the howl, and the gyration are repeated twice to the huge delight of the “audience.” Then the puppets are abruptly removed back “inside” the carriage, which is moved away from “center stage.”] (13:00)
NARRATOR:
Having inflicted a dose of mortification on the governor, the parade headed up Broadway to join the main force gathering on the Common, for the funeral of Lady Liberty. Of course, they did stop to repeat their little comedy here and there, not incidentally swelling their ranks.
At the Common, the total demonstration grew to two thousand New Yorkers, some carrying torches, some mere candles. And it was there that the main event began.
[SPOTLIGHTS on the gallows as it is moved to “center stage.”]
First, out came the gallows, with three miscreants already strung up! Can you guess who they are? The first is New York’s Governor Colden. The second is British Prime Minister Grenville. And the third is the devil himself! And … Oh!
[SPOTLIGHT on the manipulator of the Colden puppet, who takes his effigy from behind the carriage over to the gallows. A CITIZEN appears with a ready-made noose; he throws it over the gallows, retrieves the loop, and they place it over the head of the puppet. CITIZEN looks about questioningly to the crowd, who shout encouragement for the lynching. CITIZEN And the manipulator haul the effigy up, cleat the line, and retire amid the cheering crowd.]
NARRATOR:
Why hang him just once when you can hang him twice! Now you may notice that each of the effigies has a long strip of cloth attached, with writing on it. This was the Eighteenth Century way of creating political cartoons, but today, we find them quite hard to read. So [INTERLOCUTOR’s full name] is going to ask for four volunteers to read the strips and help us understand what was being satirized. (14:45)
[SPOTLIGHTS on the Interlocutor, who stands in front of the gallows with a wireless mike. She names an ASSISTANT, who will help select volunteers, and immediately encourages forth a first volunteer. (As Interlocutor is dealing with each volunteer, the Assistant is quietly staging the next one.) With each Volunteer, the Interlocutor will request his or her name, and engage in very brief banter, before turning to the cartoon strips. These will be read in the same order listed above. (Interlocutor repeats the cartoon line after the Volunteer.) They’ll read:]
#1 (Colden1): “If Parliament says it’s the law, then I’ll enforce it, no matter that it bankrupt all New York!”
Interlocutor asks whether it seems to worry Colden that no American had any say in the matter.
#2 (Grenville): “Once we get them used to paying low rates, we’ll raise them—just as we’ve done in Ireland!”
Interlocutor asks whether that doesn’t sound paranoid; then notes that Grenville’s private diary revealed that this was exactly what he was thinking!
#3 (Devil): “You’re on the right road, my lads! Don’t let any popular tumult sway you!”
Interlocutor asks whether it appears the devil believed in democracy; then notes that the Enlightenment’s new validation of democracy was being strongly resisted by those in power in 1765.
#4 (Colden2): “You’re being very naughty children if you don’t listen to your parent, who knows what’s best for you!”
Interlocutor asks for Volunteer’s reaction; then notes that one reason Governor Colden was universally detested was that he was, simply, a nag.
Interlocutor now thanks the four Volunteers profusely (demanding audience applaud them). She notes that this setup was typical of both printed cartoons and public demonstrations. She is startled to be cut off by: (19:30)
[AUDIO: Church bells toll. DRUMMER beats funeral march. SPOTLIGHTS on the BANNER “O! The Fatal Stamp!” which precedes the four COFFIN-BEARERS, who somberly bring out the “bier” platform bearing the coffin of Liberty. A female CITIZEN distributes black arm bands. (GALLOWS is quietly moved “upstage.” Interlocutor joins others.) Crowd is deeply affected. All men remove hats as coffin passes; some kneel. Women curtsey; some place additional flowers on the bier. Drummer stops and all remain still as Narrator begins.] (19:50)
NARRATOR (after a moment of this pageantry):
So … do they know that the coffin is empty? Of course they do. Do they truly think that iron manacles—such as the ones that some of them have placed on their slaves—are going to be fastened on all of them tomorrow? No. And yet, and yet … they also know that the Stamp Tax portends the end of the long era of Salutary Neglect that has allowed all the American colonies to prosper in relative freedom since they were first settled. They know that this date marks a change in their lives far more critical to them than the fall of Montréal that ended French power in North America. So their foreboding is real. They don’t know that there will be ten years of quarrels and privation, followed by eight bitter years of war, before a new era will emerge, again here in lower Manhattan, on Evacuation Day in November 1783, but they do sense that nothing will ever be the same again.
[AUDIO: Church bells toll again. DRUMMER again beats funeral march. Led by Marshall, Drummer, Flag, Banner, and Coffin, the Crowd mixes in with Parade banner, Gallows, and Coach; all slowly make a complete circle about the PA. AUDIO fades and Drummer continues, but softer, as Narrator resumes.] (21:30)
NARRATOR:
The huge procession now heads back down Broadway, back to the fort at Bowling Green. What do they hope to achieve there, beside showing their disdain for the Stamp Act? Well—as the army knew perfectly well—the people really wanted to get their hands on the physical stamps, to make certain they would never be used. And as the people knew perfectly well, the royal governor and the army were determined that the stamps would remain safely inside until they could be used.
[SPOTLIGHTS fade up on the two uniformed British soldiers posted in second story windows of the Custom House. When Narrator refers to the “whole front bastion,” Spots pan back and forth to highlight the entire second story of the building, then return to the soldiers.]
When they got to Bowling Green, they were not facing just two soldiers, armed with muskets. Colden was prepared for them! The whole front bastion of the fort was teeming with soldiers, and worse, they’d moved some of the cannons, which normally faced out into the harbor, over so they faced Bowling Green!
[ALL halt in position and turn to stare up at the building’s second story.]
They had turned the cannons against the city! And worse yet, they’d been seen that afternoon, loading the cannons with grapeshot—with murderous shrapnel!
Did the people think the army would fire on them? No. But … Did they believe it was impossible that the army would fire on them? No, neither. It was conceivable; armies had fired on mobs before. Could it happen here, tonight? Could it—
[SPOTLIGHTS on PARADE MARSHALL, who moves up to the center of the (flat representing the) gate of the fort. He raises his fist and beats against it three times (each beat amplified by the DRUMMER.]
PARADE MARSHALL (bellowing, because he has no amplification):
The people of New York demand admittance!
[After a three-second pause, he repeats the three knocks, and again says:]
The people of New York—
RABBLE-ROUSER 1 (bellowing, because he has no amplification):
Oh, the hell with that!
[One SPOTLIGHT stays on Marshall; the other one hunts and finds Rabble-rouser 1, who leads a (roaring) charge against the fort.]
PARADE MARSHALL:
No! Wait!
[SPOTLIGHTS full up on Soldiers, who instantly take aim as if down at the center of the gate. All non-rioting crowd SHRIEK and cower. Rioters blindly continue. SOLDIERS suddenly look directly to second-floor center, as if receiving orders to stand down; they return to attention. MOM rushes across plaza, grabs the one BOY among rioters, drags him back by his ear.]
RABBLE-ROUSER 1:
Go ahead and fire, you damn cowards! We dare you!
PARADE MARSHALL (trying to physically restrain Rabble-rouser 1):
Stop, stop! This is not the time! It’s too—
[RIOTERS pause briefly. Rabble-rouser 1 pushes Marshall away. All Rioters roar and resume attempt to demolish the gate. SPOTS again hit Soldiers, who again aim at the gate. Non-rioters again shriek and cower. Soldiers again indicate they’ve been told to stand down. MOM again crosses plaza; this time she drags HUSBAND back by his ear.]
PARADE MARSHALL (to non-rioters):
The bonfire! Get that bonfire started now!
[NON-RIOTERS (carefully) topple the carriage. LIGHTS visually suggest a bonfire. GALLOWS-carriers make a production of toppling the gallows and its effigies, with crowd reactions. Rioters slowly give way to the call of the bonfire. Everyone warms hands, turns to warm their backs, etc.—but occasionally looks nervously up at the soldiers, who remain at attention.] (26:15)
NARRATOR:
The organizers—who may have been known as the New York Sons of Liberty by this time—did not want a riot, much less a bloodbath. They hoped to show the governor that they possessed numbers that would have to be reckoned with. They had planned the bonfire, to prevent a repetition of Boston’s unruly second protest.
[All the “better-dressed” among the crowd mime saying goodnight to friends and leaving. They move “upstage,” face the building, and remain still.]
And as the fire was dying down, they thought they’d succeeded. It was a little moral triumph to think that Cadwallader Colden must have been watching as the town’s “solid citizens” applauded the incineration of his effigies! The more settled people now started home, and—
RABBLE-ROUSER 2 (bellowing, because he has no amplification):
Hey! Hey! What about that redcoat who said he’d cram the stamps down our throats with his sword, huh? I say we—
PARADE MARSHALL:
No, wait!
RABBLE-ROUSER 2:
I say we make him pay for his arrogance!
RABBLE-ROUSER 1:
I’m with you! Let’s go!
[RIOTERS shake fists, roar, and run “upstage,” where they subside, also facing the building.]
NARRATOR:
This was not part of the plan! But it was too late. A mob of several hundred dashed away uptown, where they completely demolished the elegant home of the offending army major, and damaged a few others besides. It was the biggest riot in New York City’s history, and the most significant protest of November first in all America.
But the situation was not resolved. The next days were very tense. The governor received death threats. Every discussion became heated, even among friends. Governor Colden tried to get the stamps out of the fort, onto the Navy’s ships anchored in the harbor, but the Navy turned him down. Committees tried to negotiate a handover to the provincial assembly or the city council, but the governor refused. A movement grew to attack the fort in real earnest on November fifth, Guy Fawkes Day, the traditional day of mayhem. On that day, Colden at last capitulated, getting an agreement that the city fathers would secure the stamps in City Hall until … until further notice.
[ALL turn around. The SPEAKERS move forward into two lines.]
Since everyone knew the city government would never permit the stamps to be used, this at last relieved the immediate crisis. Some five thousand New Yorkers came out on the afternoon of November fifth to watch and cheer while the soldiers moved seven heavy crates of stamped paper out of the fort, up Broadway to Wall Street, and down Wall Street to City Hall, where city civilians signed receipts for them and secured them inside. For good. But …
[LIGHTS dim on Narrator. SPOTLIGHTS pick out each Speaker and he or she moves to the front of his or her respective line.]
SPEAKER 1 (the Parade Marshall):
… The Stamp Act was still the law. Determined not to use the stamps, people simply evaded it, tentatively at first, then with increasing boldness. It was very challenging, because there was no guarantee that their boycott would work. (29:50)
SPEAKER 2:
On November 26th, the radicals called an unprecedented New England-style town meeting on the Common, to discuss future plans. The court faction saw it as evidence of crazed anarchy!
SPEAKER 3:
On December 2nd, they cornered James McEvers, who had been appointed New York’s Stamp Tax distributor, and forced him to resign and foreswear his appointment.
SPEAKER 4:
On December 31st, two representatives from New York met with the Connecticut Sons of Liberty, and created the first inter-colonial compact for mutual defense.
SPEAKER 5:
On January 8th, 1766, a shipment of stamps intended for Connecticut was captured by the Liberty Boys—and this one was burnt!
SPEAKER 6:
On February 15th, mob violence severely threatened the homes of three businessmen who had tried to cut corners of the non-importation agreement.
SPEAKER 7:
On February 21st—a year after passing the Stamp Act—the House of Commons passed the Declaratory Act, insisting that Parliament had the right to tax the colonies, but then rescinded the Stamp Act.
SPEAKER 8:
On March 18th, King George signed the Stamp Act Repeal, which was met with huge relief by most of the British public, who were feeling a severe economic bite as a result of the American boycott.
SPEAKER 9:
On April 23rd, the Sons of Liberty seized arriving cargo that was proscribed by the non-importation agreement, and sent it directly back to England.
[LIGHTS up on Narrator for one line only.]
NARRATOR:
Early in May, the Sons of Liberty proved they were not perfect liberals, when the more Puritan elements among them … demolished a theater patronized by the wealthy.
SPEAKER 10:
On May 20th, definite news reached New York, that the Stamp Act had been repealed—and the town went—quote—berserk with joy—unquote!
[ALL indicate joy: jumping, hollering, dancing, hats in air, huggy-huggy.]
SPEAKER 11 (over the continuing general noise):
And on June 23rd, the New York Assembly commissioned an equestrian statue of King George III for Bowling Green, to show their gratitude for the part they assumed he’d played in the repeal. (30:35)
[ALL slowly calm down and become generally quiet. LIGHTS full on Narrator,]
NARRATOR:
The King hadn’t actually played a part, but they gave him the credit anyway. The statue was dedicated four years later—and demolished a scant six years after that.
So what was the upshot of the Stamp Act crisis? Even as the relief of Repeal swept New York City and all America, some spoke up to warn that the Declaratory Act meant endless future trouble. And as we know from hindsight, they were right.
But what about the protest that took place right here, exactly two hundred fifty years ago today?
[ALL turn around, and look up at the second story of the building. SPOTLIGHTS slowly, repeatedly pan across the second story.]
What effect did it have? Well … imagine you were one of the two thousand New Yorkers gathered peacefully to mourn Lady Liberty, and you faced a row of loaded cannons that might very well have been fired that night.… Would you ever forget that? Would the friends and relations you told about it … just shrug it off?
The memory of the Stamp Act protests brought shivers to New Yorkers all through the last colonial decade. It’s another story, but this was a watershed moment on New York’s—and America’s—march to independence!
We thank you for your attention—and let’s all rejoice that we aren’t paying a Stamp Tax to this very day!
[ALL turn around, relax, and join hands in a semicircle facing the audience. On cue from the Parade Marshall, they bow.]
PARADE MARSHALL:
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. You’re now invited to join us and look over our costumes, scenery, and props to your hearts’ content! (33:00)
[General LIGHTING remains up as long as safety requires it. Demolition of scenery not to begin before ten minutes have passed!]