Ninety-two and forty-five.
John Wilkes, an able political writer, edited and published in
London a newspaper called
The North Briton.
In No. 45 (1763) he made a severe attack upon the government, for which he was prosecuted and committed to the Tower, but was acquitted and awarded $5,000 damages for the imprisonment.
He was regarded as the great champion of the people, and considered a martyr to their cause.
This blow at the freedom of speech caused violent political excitement, and “Forty-five!”
the number of
The North Briton in which the attack appeared, became the war-cry of the democratic party in
England.
After ninety-two members of the Massachusetts Assembly refused to rescind the famous circular letter in 1774 (see
Massachusetts), “Ninety-two” became a political catch-word in the colonies.
When the
Americans in
London heard of the action of the Massachusetts Assembly, their favorite toast became “May the unrescinding ninety-two be forever united in idea with the glorious Forty-five.”
“These numbers were combined in an endless variety in the colonies,” says
Frothingham.
“Ninety-Two patriots at a festival would drink forty-five toasts.
The representatives would have forty-five or ninety-two votes.
The ball would have ninety-two jigs and forty-five minuets.
The Daughters of Liberty would, at a quilting-party, have their garment of forty-five pieces of calico of one color and ninety-two of another.
Ninety-two Sons of Liberty would raise a flag-staff forty-five feet high.
At the dedication of a liberty-tree in
Charleston forty-five lights hung on its branches, forty-five of the company bore torches in the procession, and they joined in the march in honor of the
Massachusetts ninety-two.
At the festival forty-five candles lighted the table, and ninety-two glasses were used in drinking toasts; and the president gave as a sentiment, ‘May the ensuing members of the Assembly be unanimous, and never recede from the resolutions of the
Massachusetts ninety-two.’
”
