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The Great Riots of New York, 1712 to 1873 by Joel Tyler Headley
page 46 of 264 (17%)
Moore, the new Governor, soon arrived, and assumed the reigns of
government. The corporation offered him the freedom of the city in a gold
box, but he refused to receive it, unless upon stamped paper. It was
evident he was determined to enforce the stamp act. But on consulting with
Colden and others, and ascertaining the true state of things, he wisely
abandoned his purpose, and soon made it publicly known. To appease the
people still more, he dismantled the fort, which was peculiarly obnoxious
to them from the threatening attitude it had been made to assume. Still,
the infamous act was unrepealed, and the people refused to buy English
manufactures, and commerce languished.

At length, Parliament, finding that further insistance in carrying out the
obnoxious act only worked mischief, had repealed it. When the news reached
New York, the most unbounded joy was manifested. Bells were rung, cannon
fired, and placards posted, calling on a meeting of the citizens the next
day to take measures for celebrating properly the great event. At the
appointed time, the people came together at Howard's Hotel, and forming a
procession, marched gayly to "the field," and right where the City Hall
now stands, then an open lot, a salute of twenty-one guns was fired. A
grand dinner followed, at which the Sons of Liberty feasted and drank
loyal toasts to his Majesty, and all went "merry as a marriage-bell." The
city was illuminated, and bonfires turned the night into day. In a few
weeks, the King's birthday was celebrated with great display. A huge pile
of wood was erected in the Park, and an ox roasted whole for the people.
Cart after cart dumped its load of beer on the ground, till twenty-five
barrels, flanked by a huge hogshead of rum, lay in a row, presided over by
men appointed to deal out the contents to the populace. A boisterous
demonstration followed that almost drowned the roar of the twenty-one
cannon that thundered forth a royal salute. As a fitting wind-up to the
bacchanalian scene, at night twenty-five tar-barrels, fastened on poles,
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