"I am of opinion that it is highly requisite forthwith to pass a law, prohibiting upon great penalties all trade with our enemies, and more especially the supplying of them with arms, ammunition or provisions of any kind whatsoever"
About this Quote
Anxiety dressed up as administrative urgency: Shirley’s “highly requisite forthwith” isn’t just throat-clearing, it’s a power move. The sentence barrels forward like a dispatch from a frontier that can’t wait for London’s niceties. “Forthwith” signals crisis, but it also signals authority: the speaker claims the right to define the moment as an emergency, and emergencies are where governments expand.
The specific intent is blunt. Shirley wants a legal chokehold on commerce with “our enemies,” especially anything that keeps them fighting: arms, ammunition, provisions. This is wartime policy pitched as moral hygiene. Trade isn’t treated as neutral exchange; it’s collaboration, an act that deserves “great penalties.” The law becomes a weapon aimed as much at one’s own merchants as at the opposing army.
The subtext is distrust. Shirley implies that, left alone, colonists will keep doing business across battle lines because profit is faster than patriotism. That’s the uncomfortable colonial reality: borders were porous, loyalties mixed, and supply networks often beat ideology. By targeting provisions “of any kind whatsoever,” he’s closing the loopholes preemptively, anticipating the creative excuses of traders and smugglers.
Context matters: Shirley governed Massachusetts in the mid-18th century, when imperial wars (especially against France and its allies) made North America a marketplace of conflict. The quote captures a key tension of the era: Britain’s empire ran on trade, yet survival in wartime demanded throttling the very commerce that enriched it. Shirley’s rhetoric tries to convert economic self-interest into treason, and in doing so, reveals how fragile “we” was when money could cross the lines that soldiers died to defend.
The specific intent is blunt. Shirley wants a legal chokehold on commerce with “our enemies,” especially anything that keeps them fighting: arms, ammunition, provisions. This is wartime policy pitched as moral hygiene. Trade isn’t treated as neutral exchange; it’s collaboration, an act that deserves “great penalties.” The law becomes a weapon aimed as much at one’s own merchants as at the opposing army.
The subtext is distrust. Shirley implies that, left alone, colonists will keep doing business across battle lines because profit is faster than patriotism. That’s the uncomfortable colonial reality: borders were porous, loyalties mixed, and supply networks often beat ideology. By targeting provisions “of any kind whatsoever,” he’s closing the loopholes preemptively, anticipating the creative excuses of traders and smugglers.
Context matters: Shirley governed Massachusetts in the mid-18th century, when imperial wars (especially against France and its allies) made North America a marketplace of conflict. The quote captures a key tension of the era: Britain’s empire ran on trade, yet survival in wartime demanded throttling the very commerce that enriched it. Shirley’s rhetoric tries to convert economic self-interest into treason, and in doing so, reveals how fragile “we” was when money could cross the lines that soldiers died to defend.
Quote Details
| Topic | War |
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