1768 – Liberty is Confiscated

Unlike Sam Adams, John Hancock had little interest in politics until June 1768, when his sloop Liberty was confiscated by British customs commissioners, for smuggling and non-payment of customs duties. It should be understood that all merchants were smugglers, including the Royal Governor Thomas Hutchinson, and the practice was accepted with a bit of bribery. The British Parliament, having rescinded its Stamp tax, was determined to collect money in the American colonies. The Admiralty dispatched the frigate Romney to Boston harbor for enforcement. It should be understood that a confiscated ship and its cargo would be sold, and the profits shared equally by the King, the Royal Governor, and the Customs Commissioner. The “White Broad Arrow” was the sign of confiscation. The following is an excerpt from my first novel Snug Harbor Tavern: Shaggin’ for a Shillin’. Imagine a government a government changing laws to benefit one group at the expense of another, while reaping profits for itself.

Meanwhile, Joseph Hallowell and his brother Benjamin, comptroller of customs, with a small entourage of customs clerks were busy painting the white broad arrow on the side of the Liberty, which was berthed alongside the wharf. Ben turned to the gathering crowd, boldly declaring, “The broad arrow, as you all know, makes the Liberty official government property as of this moment.”

The crowd only half heard his declaration as they watched a detachment of the king’s marines from the Romney, the sun glistening off their bayonets and bright red jackets, march down Hancock’s Wharf. Lieutenant Spitz, with a condescending leer at the crowd, commanded, “Men, board that sloop and clear the decks of anyone aboard. Cast mooring lines to the barges.”  Three barges had been aligned on the starboard side in order to tow the Liberty to a mooring under the guns of the royal frigate. As the crew cut the Liberty loose from her berth, the irate mob began pelting them with stones. Spitz, in a sudden rage, yelled, “Fire your muskets, marines. Fire! Damn you, fire!”

The marines slowly lowered their muskets with their bayonets fixed and took aim, but no one fired. Instead, they looked again at Lieutenant Spitz in astonishment. They had never fired on unarmed civilians, and though they had been ordered to fire, it did not fit their training. As moments passed, the barges made way toward the mooring under the guns of the Romney. Spitz, regaining his composure said, “Well done, men. That noisy mob cowered at the mere sight of our arms.”

Realizing that any assault on the king’s navy would be fruitless, the irate gaggle turned its attention on the Hallowells. “Now the commissioners think they can steal our ships, do they? We’ll show them! Tar and feathers! Get them,” the voices screamed in unison.

The Hallowells sprinted past the Snug Harbor Tavern, heading for the safety of their homes. The mob pursued them through the town, hurling bricks and stones. Arriving at the gates of Joseph Hallowell’s home, the yelling and threats intensified.