Transcript of Bill Mick Live May 27, 2025 – Hour 3
Dave Does History – Rum Soaked Taxes

Bill Mick
Glad you’re along with us for this edition of Bill Mick Live. Tuesday, 8:00 hour—we devote this to Dave Bowman and “Dave Does History,” part of his Liberty 250 project leading us through the run-up to July 4th, 1776. We’ll dive into that today, as we prepare for the 250th anniversary of American independence.

By the way, headlines are up at BillMick.com. A-I-A-I-O, we devoted our first two hours to those topics. You can catch up on those in the podcast section at the top of the page, along with the Florida Roundtable podcast. Follow us on Instagram @WMMBRadio.

Dave, as we march toward American independence, a lot of factors came into play. Where are we going today?

Dave Bowman
Oddly enough, we’re going to India.

In the 1800s, Britain—having turned India into a colony like the U.S.—had a big problem: cobras. Lots of them. Snakes were biting and killing people. So the British government came up with a plan:

They said, “Bring us a dead cobra, we’ll pay you a bounty.”

Bill Mick
Oh, you mean like we do with pythons?

Dave Bowman
Exactly. I was just about to say that—before anyone thinks this was too ridiculous, know that Florida is doing the same thing today with giant anacondas.

So, as the story goes, this program in India led to even more cobras than before.

How does that happen? Economics 101. If you pay people for dead cobras, guess what they do?

Bill Mick
Capitalism!

Dave Bowman
Exactly. Some folks started breeding cobras—just to kill them and collect the money.

Bill Mick
A cobra farm. Yes, sir.

Dave Bowman
Right. So when the British government realized this, they shut the program down. And what did people do with their now-worthless cobras? They released them. Just let them go. So now there were more cobras than ever.

History often shows us that if people just paused to think—or maybe talked to one another—things might go differently.

By the 1800s, you’d think the British Empire, of all empires, would’ve known better. But in 1733, they faced a very similar problem.

This time, it wasn’t cobras. It was molasses.

Back then, the French were growing sugar in their Caribbean colonies—places like Saint-Domingue—just like the British were doing in Jamaica and Barbados.

But the French sugar—and its byproduct, molasses—was cheaper and better.

Guess who was buying it? Rhode Island. New England. The Puritans loved their rum, and rum is made from molasses.

So the colonists were buying up all the French molasses because it was better and cheaper than the British version.

The British government, wanting to protect their own sugar planters, imposed a tariff: 6 pence per gallon on French molasses.

And guess what? It didn’t help. British molasses imports fell. French imports rose.

Over the next 30 years, the British spent £7,000 more trying to enforce this molasses tax than they ever collected.

Now, £7,000 in 1763 is millions today.

Why didn’t it work? Economics again.

Colonists smuggled molasses. They bribed officials. They committed insurance fraud. All criminal behavior—but the British shrugged.

Bill Mick
So London said, “Eh, it’s just molasses. Just rum.”

Dave Bowman
Exactly. And when you do that—when you send the message that laws don’t really matter—you make it much harder to fix things later when you do care.

Bill Mick
And we’ll pick that up in 60 seconds on WMMB. So the Brits go from caring and taxing to not caring and ignoring. But Dave, as you said, eventually—they do care again.

Dave Bowman
Right. What triggers that shift—that decision to care—is what truly impacts us.

This tax—what we’d call a protective tariff—didn’t protect anything. French molasses sales soared. British ones tanked.

And New England? They got rich off rum. Delicious, fantastic rum.

But that wealth came from criminality—bribes, fraud, and smuggling. And the British barely enforced any of it.

It became a joke. They knew what was going on. They just didn’t care.

Until the French and Indian War ended in 1763.

Then everything changed.

Bill Mick
So London is like Tallahassee with homeowner’s insurance. The insurance companies run the show?

Dave Bowman
It sure seems that way.

After the war ended in 1763, Britain found itself with a vastly expanded empire—Louisiana, Canada, all that. But now they had to govern it.

And for 30 years, they had taught American colonists: “Just run things yourselves. We don’t care.”

That mindset was deeply ingrained.

But suddenly, Parliament and the King looked at this and thought: “If we let them keep doing things their way, they’ll start more wars. They’ll go after the Spanish in Florida. They’ll attack native tribes in the West. We can’t have that.”

So they passed laws.

And told colonists: “No, you didn’t fight the Seven Years’ War to grow. You’re not expanding. You’re confined to the land east of the Appalachians. Period.”

And, oh yeah—they left troops behind to enforce it.

They said it was “for your protection,” but really, it was control. Those troops would enforce taxes. They’d quarter in homes. They’d keep an eye on everything.

But after 30 years of autonomy, that didn’t sit well.

It sparked resentment. It planted the seeds of revolution.

And those seeds would land squarely on the head of King George III.

Bill Mick
And we’ll get into that as we continue. Dave Does History on Bill Mick Live. Glad you’re with us here on 92.7 FM WMMB. Make sure we’re your number one preset on the iHeartRadio app—most of Brevard already has. Might as well join the crowd.

LINER
It’s a take on history you won’t find anywhere else. Dave Does History on Bill Mick Live.

Bill Mick
McPherson Financial Group brings you this hour of the program. Appreciate you joining us, especially on these Tuesdays. Dave puts a lot of work into this as we explore the road to the American Revolution in a project we’re calling Liberty 250.

So Dave, you’ve laid out the preface. Let’s catch up on King George. What’s next?

Dave Bowman
Let’s take a slight detour.

Let’s talk about the man we’ve all been taught to hate—King George III.

To us, he’s a tyrant. Evil. That’s what we say in the Declaration of Independence: a character unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

But as I’ve said before, George III is comparable in some ways to Herod the Great.

Now, most Westerners think of Herod as an evil tyrant. But no one ever stops to ask: why was he called “the Great”?

We don’t ask who he really was. We don’t learn that Herod was a close friend of Augustus Caesar, Julius Caesar, and Mark Antony. He earned that “Great” title.

Likewise, George III—seen by us as a tyrant—is viewed by much of the world, and by history, as not so bad. In fact, some see him as a fairly reasonable guy.

So how did we end up seeing him this way?

Well, during the 1733 to 1760 period we just covered, George was growing up. He was the son of Frederick William, Prince of Wales. That made George third in line after George I, who, by the way, was German.

We’ve talked about this—the Hanoverians came from Germany when Parliament offered them the English crown.

George I moved the family from Hanover to England because England was the more important throne.

George III’s father died in 1751. It deeply affected young George, who was already estranged from his dad. His mother, Augusta, became the dominant influence in his life.

She was deeply religious and protective. She kept George very close. In fact, during his entire life, George never traveled more than 50 miles from London.

Never went to Scotland, Wales, Ireland, or even back to Hanover, where he was also king.

He was extremely sheltered. And under his mother’s religious influence, he absorbed strong moral values.

Bill Mick
So George was raised in a way we might actually respect today?

Dave Bowman
“Respect” might be too strong, but he certainly fit the values of Puritan New England.

He was sober, didn’t drink much, highly moral, and religiously devout.

He was more interested in agriculture than court life—he could talk for hours about soil, crops, and livestock. His nickname became “Farmer George.”

He believed in moral behavior. Unlike most monarchs (and what television likes to depict), George III was faithful to his wife.

They had fifteen children—including the future George IV, who didn’t follow quite the same lifestyle.

But George III was personally upstanding.

Now, with that moral rectitude came a mindset.

He believed he was a moral rebuke to the corruption of the royal court. And he planned to rule accordingly.

When he became king in 1760, he brought a strong sense of divine right—not unlike earlier monarchs.

But George III believed he was chosen by God to preserve the moral order of the empire.

To him, compromising was weakness.

Laws, once passed, were sacred. Not just because he said so—but because God said so.

Bill Mick
He was the Pope of England.

Dave Bowman
In many ways, yes.

If you disobeyed one of his laws—like the molasses tax—you weren’t just breaking the law. You were disobeying God.

He would not compromise.

Now, some speculate that if George III had visited the colonies—met ordinary Americans like Isaac, Ebenezer, or Martha—he might have viewed things differently.

There’s even a theory that he might have said: “Hey, my grandfather moved from Hanover to London because that was the better place to rule from. Maybe I should move to Boston.”

Had he done that, who knows? Maybe things go differently.

But he didn’t. He stayed in London.

And he saw the monarchy as his divine duty—not to innovate, not to retreat—but to preserve the empire that God had entrusted to him.

So he was ready to rule—just in time for that empire to start unraveling.

And it began when he told the colonists: “You will go no farther. The Appalachians are your western boundary.”

And he would send troops to enforce it.

Bill Mick
Setting the stage for what’s to come. We’ll explore that more in moments on Dave Does History, right here on 92.7 FM WMMB.

LINER
This is Dave Does History on Bill Mick Live.

Bill Mick
Thanks to Victor Lyle and the McPherson Financial Group for sponsoring this hour.

Got questions or comments on today’s history segment? Give us a call at 321-768-1240.

King George is on the throne. He’s placing restrictions on the colonists they do not appreciate.

Dave, what happens next?

Dave Bowman
By the time the French and Indian War ended in 1763, the treaties that resolved it were, frankly, a mess.

The terms themselves were clear enough, but communication was so slow that confusion reigned.

For instance, the French had appointed a new governor to New Orleans. He set sail—only to be captured by the British en route. He was released, returned to France, then came back to New Orleans… only to discover the city no longer belonged to France. It had been ceded to Spain.

So Britain now controlled essentially all of North America—except for Spanish territories. They had Canada. They had Louisiana—though Louisiana went to Spain. But they had massive new land holdings.

And with that came problems.

Chief among them: debt.

In 1763, Britain faced a debt of £122 million. That’s debt, not deficit. That’s a mountain of money, especially in 1763 terms.

George III, remember, was a fiscal conservative. He didn’t believe in deficit spending.

Meanwhile, the British Army stationed in America—supposedly to “protect” the colonists—was costing £400,000 per year.

And Britain already had Native American uprisings flaring. Pontiac’s Rebellion is the major one. You can look that up, but the gist is this:

Pontiac and his allies believed Britain was not honoring its agreements. So he led an uprising.

Britain, in response, issued the Proclamation of 1763 in October.

This proclamation forbade any colonial settlement west of the Appalachian Mountains.

Now remember—colonists had already been moving west. They’d explored the Ohio Valley. They’d moved through the Cumberland Gap.

George Washington himself had invested in land companies with holdings west of the Appalachians. He was nearly financially ruined by this proclamation.

The supposed intent was to stabilize relations with Native American tribes and to manage expansion in an orderly way.

But to the colonists? It felt like a betrayal.

They had fought a war expecting land. They’d been promised it in return for their service. And now George III said: “No. You shall not pass.”

Bill Mick
It sounds like the act of a tyrant.

Dave Bowman
Exactly.

And keep in mind, for 30 years, colonists had learned to run their own affairs.

Britain had been distant. Parliament didn’t care. The Crown didn’t interfere. The attitude was: “Pretend to be part of the empire, and we’ll pretend to rule you.”

But now George III came in with this moral absolutism.

To him, disobeying royal law wasn’t just treason—it was sin. And he was your moral guardian.

With the stroke of a royal quill, he revoked the dreams of a generation.

We don’t often talk about this, but the 13 colonies were small. On a map, each one was no larger than England.

By the 1760s, the colonies’ population was exceeding that of London. They needed to expand. They had the room to expand.

But Britain didn’t see it that way.

They said, “No. Thou shalt not.”

And to enforce it, they backed up the proclamation with imperial authority.

Troops were quartered in homes. Customs officials cracked down.

Taxes that had long been ignored were now enforced—starting again with that molasses tax.

That hit New England hard—especially the rum industry. But it wasn’t just about rum. Sugar was used in all kinds of goods.

So this Proclamation of 1763 marked more than a geographic boundary. It marked an ideological shift.

For the first time, colonists began to feel that their rights as Englishmen—those cherished rights to property, liberty, and representation—were now conditional.

They were negotiable.

They were distant.

And people began to wonder… if the empire that had protected them from the French… now needed protection from them.

The discontent wasn’t full-blown revolution yet. But it was beginning.

This is when voices like James Otis start to speak out—“Taxation without representation is tyranny.”

Parliament, meanwhile, was debating new taxes. We’ll get into those next week—the Stamp Act, the Sugar Act, all the ones you know.

London thought these were reasonable policies.

But in the colonies? It felt like a breach of trust.

And it would not be the last.

Bill Mick
So the proclamation was just the beginning.

Dave Bowman
Exactly.

Parliament began reforming customs enforcement. They tightened regulations. They threatened to close ports that didn’t comply.

Most explosively, they demanded that we—the colonies—begin paying down that war debt.

They said it was “our fair share.” Sound familiar?

But the war was over. The shared purpose was gone.

Now came suspicion. Resentment.

And a slowly growing awareness… that peace might actually be more dangerous than war.

Bill Mick
We’ll pick it up—with your questions—in 60 seconds on WMMB.

Let’s go to the phones. Keith in Palm Bay—good morning. What’s on your mind?

Keith in Palm Bay
Hey, great show.

I’m wondering—since all these royal proclamations had to come over “the pond,” and they didn’t have phones or instant communication—did any governors or soldiers adjust the messages on the ground to fit their own agenda? Like we saw in the Obama years—bureaucrats on the ground running things differently than what was actually decreed.

Did that happen?

Bill Mick
Good question. Dave—any evidence of governors or troops tweaking the king’s message in transit or upon arrival?

Dave Bowman
If I understand your question right, I don’t think there’s any clear evidence of people rewriting the Proclamation of 1763.

But as for how it was followed? That’s a different story.

A lot of colonists had invested heavily in land west of the Appalachians. There was money to be made.

And for 30 years, they’d been used to doing things their own way.

They ignored the molasses tax. They ignored other rules.

So at first, they probably thought, “Eh—it’s just more nonsense from London.”

But what changed was George III.

He wasn’t like George II. He believed enforcement was a moral imperative.

And starting in 1763, the tone shifted.

He wanted these laws followed rigorously.

And colonial resentment began to build.

You can already hear the grumbling: “We’re being taxed without representation.”

Seven years from now, Americans will be getting shot in the streets.

Bill Mick
Let’s grab another call. Line one—you’re next on Bill Mick Live. Good morning.

Mario in Cape Canaveral
Great program. Mario here.

The colonists had roots in Scotland, right? They’d been oppressed by the English for centuries. So wasn’t there already long-standing resentment—generational animosity—that influenced colonial attitudes?

Bill Mick
Interesting take. Dave?

Dave Bowman
There’s always that mindset of “we’re being oppressed,” and yes—some colonists had Scottish heritage.

But by the 1760s, most colonists were English. You also had Germans, Irish, Spanish settlers in the mix.

The bigger issue was how Britain had trained the colonies over 30 years.

They let us govern ourselves. They ignored the taxes. They didn’t interfere.

That’s why we had colonial legislatures—because Britain didn’t want to be bothered.

Now suddenly, they wanted to control things. And George III?

He believed God told him to make us obey.

His attitude was, “I’m in charge. You’re not.”

And that shift in attitude? That’s what sparked the backlash.

Bill Mick
You’ve said before—if George had come to Boston, it could’ve changed everything.

Dave Bowman
Absolutely.

Anyone who came to America in that era would’ve been changed by it.

Can you imagine Farmer George in the New World?

He would’ve loved it.

Bill Mick
That would’ve been something. What are we looking at next week, Dave? I’ve got ten seconds.

Dave Bowman
Next week we get into the taxes—starting with the Sugar Act and the Stamp Act.

Bill Mick
Dave Bowman, thank you. And thanks to the McPherson Financial Group for bringing you the hour. Wide Open Wednesday tomorrow—see you then.