cco.
Robert also laughed at the vivacious description.

"But I don't quite see why it should be called the Liberty Tree,"
Robert said.

"I was coming to that. You know that Lord Bute brought forward the
Stamp Act a few years ago: well, this old elm being so near the White
Lamb and the White Horse, it was a convenient place for the citizens
to meet to talk about the proposition to tax us. One evening Ben Edes,
who publishes the 'Gazette and News-Letter,' read what Ike Barre said
in Parliament in opposition to the Stamp Act, in which he called us
Americans Sons of Liberty, and as that was our meeting-place, we
christened the place Liberty Hall and the old elm Liberty Tree. That
was in July, 1765, just after Parliament passed the Stamp Act. The
king had appointed Andrew Oliver stamp-master, and one morning his
effigy was dangling from the tree, and a paper pinned to it writ
large:--

"'Fair Freedom's glorious Cause I've meanly quitted
For the sake of pelf;
But ah, the Devil has me outwitted;
Instead of hanging others,
I've hanged myself.'

"Then there was a figure of a great boot, with the Devil peeping out
of it, to represent the king's minister, Lord Bute. When night came,
all hands of us formed in procession, laid the effigies on a bier,
marched to the Province House so that the villain, Governor Bernard,
could see us, went to Mackerel Lane, tore down the building Oliver was
intending to use for the sale of the stamps, went to Fort Hill, ripped
the boards from his barn, smashed in his front door, and burned the
effigies to let him know we never would consent to be taxed in that
way. A few days later Oliver came to the tree, held up his hand, and
swore a solemn oath that he never would sell any stamps, so help him
God! And he never did, for ye see King George had to back down and
repeal the bill. It was the next May when Shubael Coffin, master of
the brigantine Harrison, brought the news. We set all the bells to
ringing, fired cannon, and tossed up our hats. The rich people opened
their purses and paid the debts of everybody in jail. We hung
lanterns on the tree in the evening, set off rockets, and kindled
bonfires. John Hancock kept open house, with ladies and gentlemen
feasting in his parlors, and pipes of wine on tap in the front yard
for everybody."

"It must have been a joyful day," said Robert.

"That's what it was. Everybody was generous. Last year when the day
came round a lot