CHAPTER II

THE CRISIS

[Illustration: LORD NORTH]

Townshend was succeeded in the exchequer by Lord North, eldest son of

the Earl of Guildford, a young man of sound judgment, wide knowledge,

and rare sweetness of temper, but wholly lacking in sympathy with

popular government. As leader of the House of Commons, he was

sufficiently able in debate to hold his ground against the fiercest

attacks of Burke and Fox, but he had no strength of will. His lazy

good-nature and his Tory principles made him a great favourite with the

king, who, through his influence over Lord North, began now to exercise

the power of a cabinet minister, and to take a more important part than

hitherto in the direction of affairs. Soon after North entered the

cabinet, colonial affairs were taken from Lord Shelburne and put in

charge of Lord Hillsborough, a man after the king's own heart. Conway

was dismissed from the cabinet, and his place was taken by Lord

Weymouth, who had voted against the repeal of the Stamp Act. The Earl of

Sandwich, who never spoke of the Americans but in terms of abuse, was

at the same time made postmaster-general; and in the following year Lord

Chatham resigned the privy seal.

[Signature: North]

[Sidenote: John Dickinson]

While the ministry, by these important changes, was becoming more and

more hostile to the just claims of the Americans, those claims were

powerfully urged in America, both in popular literature and in

well-considered state papers. John Dickinson, at once a devoted friend

of England and an ardent American patriot, published his celebrated

Farmer's Letters, which were greatly admired in both countries for their

temperateness of tone and elegance of expression. In these letters,

Dickinson held a position quite similar to that occupied by Burke.

Recognizing that the constitutional relations of the colonies to the

mother-country had always been extremely vague and ill-defined, he urged

that the same state of things be kept up forever through a genuine

English feeling of compromise, which should refrain from pushing any

abstract theory of sovereignty to its extreme logical conclusions. At

the same time, he declared that the Townshend revenue acts were "a most

dangerous innovation" upon the liberties of the people, and

significantly hinted, that, should the ministry persevere in its

tyrannical policy, "English history affords examples of resistance by

force."

[Portrait: John Dickinson]

[Sidenote: The Massachusetts circular letter]

While Dickinson was publishing these letters, Samuel Adams wrote for the

Massachusetts assembly a series of addresses to the ministry, a petition

to the king, and a circular letter to the assemblies of the other

colonies. In these very able state papers, Adams declared that a proper

representation of American interests in the British Parliament was

impracticable, and that, in accordance with the spirit of the English

Constitution, no taxes could be levied in America except by the colonial

legislatures. He argued that the Townshend acts were unconstitutional,

and asked that they should be repealed, and that the colonies should

resume the position which they had occupied before the beginning of the

present troubles. The petition to the king was couched in beautiful and

touching language, but the author seems to have understood very well how

little effect it was likely to produce. His daughter, Mrs. Wells, used

to tell how one evening, as her father had just finished writing this

petition, and had taken up his hat to go out, she observed that the

paper would soon be touched by the royal hand. "More likely, my dear,"

he replied, "it will be spurned by the royal foot!" Adams rightly

expected much more from the circular letter to the other colonies, in

which he invited them to coöperate with Massachusetts in resisting the

Townshend acts, and in petitioning for their repeal. The assembly,

having adopted all these papers by a large majority, was forthwith

prorogued by Governor Bernard, who, in a violent speech, called them

demagogues to whose happiness "everlasting contention was necessary."

But the work was done. The circular letter brought encouraging replies

from the other colonies. The condemnation of the Townshend acts was

unanimous, and leading merchants in most of the towns entered into

agreements not to import any more English goods until the acts should be

repealed. Ladies formed associations, under the name of Daughters of

Liberty, pledging themselves to wear homespun clothes and to abstain

from drinking tea. The feeling of the country was thus plainly enough

expressed, but nowhere as yet was there any riot or disorder, and no one

as yet, except, perhaps, Samuel Adams, had begun to think of a

political separation from England. Even he did not look upon such a

course as desirable, but the treatment of his remonstrances by the king

and the ministry soon led him to change his opinion.

[Illustration: A List of Names of _those_ who AUDACIOUSLY continue

to counteract the UNITED SENTIMENTS of the BODY of Merchants thro' out

NORTH-AMERICA; by importing British Goods contrary to the Agreement.]

[Sidenote: Lord Hillsborough's instructions to Bernard]

The petition of the Massachusetts assembly was received by the king with

silent contempt, but the circular letter threw him into a rage. In

cabinet meeting, it was pronounced to be little better than an overt act

of rebellion, and the ministers were encouraged in this opinion by

letters from Bernard, who represented the whole affair as the wicked

attempt of a few vile demagogues to sow the seeds of dissension

broadcast over the continent. We have before had occasion to observe the

extreme jealousy with which the Crown had always regarded any attempt at

concerted action among the colonies which did not originate with itself.

But here was an attempt at concerted action in flagrant opposition to

the royal will. Lord Hillsborough instructed Bernard to command the

assembly to rescind their circular letter, and, in case of their

refusal, to send them home about their business. This was to be repeated

year after year, so that, until Massachusetts should see fit to declare

herself humbled and penitent, she must go without a legislature. At the

same time, Hillsborough ordered the assemblies in all the other colonies

to treat the Massachusetts circular with contempt,--and this, too, under

penalty of instant dissolution. From a constitutional point of view,

these arrogant orders deserve to be ranked among the curiosities of

political history. They serve to mark the rapid progress the ministry

was making in the art of misgovernment. A year before, Townshend had

suspended the New York legislature by an act of Parliament. Now, a

secretary of state, by a simple royal order, threatened to suspend all

the legislative bodies of America unless they should vote according to

his dictation.

[Sidenote: The "Illustrious Ninety-Two"]

When Hillsborough's orders were laid before the Massachusetts assembly,

they were greeted with scorn. "We are asked to rescind," said Otis. "Let

Britain rescind her measures, or the colonies are lost to her forever."

Nevertheless, it was only after nine days of discussion that the

question was put, when the assembly decided, by a vote of ninety-two to

seventeen, that it would not rescind its circular letter. Bernard

immediately dissolved the assembly, but its vote was hailed with delight

throughout the country, and the "Illustrious Ninety-Two" became the

favourite toast on all convivial occasions. Nor were the other colonial

assemblies at all readier than that of Massachusetts to yield to the

secretary's dictation. They all expressed the most cordial sympathy

with the recommendations of the circular letter; and in several

instances they were dissolved by the governors, according to

Hillsborough's instructions.

[Illustration: FANEUIL HALL, "THE CRADLE OF LIBERTY"]

[Sidenote: Impressment of citizens]

While these fruitless remonstrances against the Townshend acts had been

preparing, the commissioners of the customs, in enforcing the acts, had

not taken sufficient pains to avoid irritating the people. In the spring

of 1768, the fifty-gun frigate Romney had been sent to mount guard in

the harbour of Boston, and while she lay there several of the citizens

were seized and impressed as seamen,--a lawless practice long afterward

common in the British navy, but already stigmatized as barbarous by

public opinion in America. As long ago as 1747, when the relations

between the colonies and the home government were quite harmonious,

resistance to the press-gang had resulted in a riot in the streets of

Boston. Now while the town was very indignant over this lawless

kidnapping of its citizens, on the 10th of June, 1768, John Hancock's

sloop Liberty was seized at the wharf by a boat's crew from the Romney,

for an alleged violation of the revenue laws, though without official

warrant. Insults and recriminations ensued between the officers and the

citizens assembled on the wharf, until after a while the excitement grew

into a mild form of riot, in which a few windows were broken, some of

the officers were pelted, and finally a pleasure boat, belonging to the

collector, was pulled up out of the water, carried to the Common, and

burned there, when Hancock and Adams, arriving upon the scene, put a

stop to the commotion. A few days afterward, a town meeting was held in

Faneuil Hall; but as the crowd was too great to be contained in the

building, it was adjourned to the Old South Meeting-House, where Otis

addressed the people from the pulpit. A petition to the governor was

prepared, in which it was set forth that the impressment of peaceful

citizens was an illegal act, and that the state of the town was as if

war had been declared against it; and the governor was requested to

order the instant removal of the frigate from the harbour. A committee

of twenty-one leading citizens was appointed to deliver this petition to

the governor at his house in Jamaica Plain. In his letters to the

secretary of state Bernard professed to live in constant fear of

assassination, and was always begging for troops to protect him against

the incendiary and blackguard mob of Boston. Yet as he looked down the

beautiful road from his open window, that summer afternoon, what he saw

was not a ragged mob, armed with knives and bludgeons, shouting

"Liberty, or death!" and bearing the head of a revenue collector aloft

on the point of a pike, but a quiet procession of eleven chaises, from

which there alighted at his door twenty-one gentlemen, as sedate and

stately in demeanour as those old Roman senators at whom the Gaulish

chief so marvelled. There followed a very affable interview, during

which wine was passed around. The next day the governor's answer was

read in town meeting, declining to remove the frigate, but promising

that in future there should be no impressment of Massachusetts citizens;

and with this compromise the wrath of the people was for a moment

assuaged.

[Portrait: Fra. Bernard]

Affairs of this sort, reported with gross exaggeration by the governor

and revenue commissioners to the ministry, produced in England the

impression that Boston was a lawless and riotous town, full of

cutthroats and blacklegs, whose violence could be held in check only by

martial law. Of all the misconceptions of America by England which

brought about the American Revolution, perhaps this notion of the

turbulence of Boston was the most ludicrous. During the ten years of

excitement which preceded the War of Independence there was one

disgraceful riot in Boston,--that in which Hutchinson's house was

sacked; but in all this time not a drop of blood was shed by the people,

nor was anybody's life for a moment in danger at their hands. The

episode of the sloop Liberty, as here described, was a fair sample of

the disorders which occurred at Boston at periods of extreme excitement;

and in any European town in the eighteenth century it would hardly have

been deemed worthy of mention.

[Sidenote: Statute of Henry VIII. concerning "treason committed abroad"]

Even before the affair of the Liberty, the government had made up its

mind to send troops to Boston, in order to overawe the popular party and

show them that the king and Lord Hillsborough were in earnest. The news

of the Liberty affair, however, served to remove any hesitation that

might hitherto have been felt. Vengeance was denounced against the

insolent town of Boston. The most seditious spirits, such as Otis and

Adams, must be made an example of, and thus the others might be

frightened into submission. With such intent, Lord Hillsborough sent

over to inquire "if any person had committed any acts which, under the

statutes of Henry VIII. against treason committed abroad, might justify

their being brought to England for trial." This raking-up of an obsolete

statute, enacted at one of the worst periods of English history, and

before England had any colonies at all, was extremely injudicious. But

besides all this, continued Hillsborough, the town meeting, that nursery

of sedition, must be put down or overawed; and in pursuance of this

scheme, two regiments of soldiers and a frigate were to be sent over to

Boston at the ministry's earliest convenience. To make an example of

Boston, it was thought, would have a wholesome effect upon the temper of

the Americans.

[Illustration: LANDING OF THE TROOPS IN BOSTON, 1768]

[Illustration: CASTLE WILLIAM, BOSTON HARBOUR]

[Sidenote: Samuel Adams makes up his mind, 1768]

It was now, in the summer of 1768, that Samuel Adams made up his mind

that there was no hope of redress from the British government, and that

the only remedy was to be found in the assertion of political

independence by the American colonies. The courteous petitions and

temperate remonstrances of the American assemblies had been met, not by

rational arguments, but by insulting and illegal royal orders; and now

at last an army was on the way from England to enforce the tyrannical

measures of government, and to terrify the people into submission.

Accordingly, Adams came to the conclusion that the only proper course

for the colonies was to declare themselves independent of Great Britain,

to unite together in a permanent confederation, and to invite European

alliances. We have his own word for the fact that from this moment until

the Declaration of Independence, in 1776, he consecrated all his

energies, with burning enthusiasm, upon the attainment of that great

object. Yet in 1768 no one knew better than Samuel Adams that the time

had not yet come when his bold policy could be safely adopted, and that

any premature attempt at armed resistance on the part of Massachusetts

might prove fatal. At this time, probably no other American statesman

had thought the matter out so far as to reach Adams's conclusions. No

American had as yet felt any desire to terminate the political

connection with England. Even those who most thoroughly condemned the

measures of the government did not consider the case hopeless, but

believed that in one way or another a peaceful solution was still

attainable. For a long time this attitude was sincerely and patiently

maintained. Even Washington, when he came to take command of the army at

Cambridge, after the battle of Bunker Hill, had not made up his mind

that the object of the war was to be the independence of the colonies.

In the same month of July, 1775, Jefferson said expressly, "We have not

raised armies with designs of separating from Great Britain and

establishing independent states. Necessity has not yet driven us into

that desperate measure." The Declaration of Independence was at last

brought about only with difficulty and after prolonged discussion. Our

great-great-grandfathers looked upon themselves as Englishmen, and felt

proud of their connection with England. Their determination to resist

arbitrary measures was at first in no way associated in their minds with

disaffection toward the mother-country. Besides this, the task of

effecting a separation by military measures seemed to most persons quite

hopeless. It was not until after Bunker Hill had shown that American

soldiers were a match for British soldiers in the field, and after

Washington's capture of Boston had shown that the enemy really could be

dislodged from a whole section of the country, that the more hopeful

patriots began to feel confident of the ultimate success of a war for

independence. It is hard for us now to realize how terrible the

difficulties seemed to the men who surmounted them. Throughout the war,

beside the Tories who openly sympathized with the enemy, there were many

worthy people who thought we were "going too far," and who magnified our

losses and depreciated our gains,--quite like the people who, in the War

of Secession, used to be called "croakers." The depression of even the

boldest, after such defeats as that of Long Island, was dreadful. How

inadequate was the general sense of our real strength, how dim the

general comprehension of the great events that were happening, may best

be seen in the satirical writings of some of the loyalists. At the time

of the French alliance, there were many who predicted that the result of

this step would be to undo the work of the Seven Years' War, to

reinstate the French in America with full control over the thirteen

colonies, and to establish despotism and popery all over the continent.

A satirical pamphlet, published in 1779, just ten years before the

Bastille was torn down in Paris, drew an imaginary picture of a Bastille

which ten years later was to stand in New York, and, with still further

license of fantasy, portrayed Samuel Adams in the garb of a Dominican

friar. Such nonsense is of course no index to the sentiments or the

beliefs of the patriotic American people, but the mere fact that it

could occur to anybody shows how hard it was for people to realize how

competent America was to take care of herself. The more we reflect upon

the slowness with which the country came to the full consciousness of

its power and importance, the more fully we bring ourselves to realize

how unwilling America was to tear herself asunder from England, and how

the Declaration of Independence was only at last resorted to when it had

become evident that no other course was compatible with the preservation

of our self-respect; the more thoroughly we realize all this, the nearer

we shall come toward duly estimating the fact that in 1768, seven years

before the battle of Lexington, the master mind of Samuel Adams had

fully grasped the conception of a confederation of American states

independent of British control. The clearness with which he saw this, as

the inevitable outcome of the political conditions of the time, gave to

his views and his acts, in every emergency that arose, a commanding

influence throughout the land.

[Sidenote: Arrival of troops in Boston]

In September, 1768, it was announced in Boston that the troops were on

their way, and would soon be landed. There happened to be a legal

obstacle, unforeseen by the ministry, to their being quartered in the

town. In accordance with the general act of Parliament for quartering

troops, the regular barracks at Castle William in the harbour would have

to be filled before the town could be required to find quarters for any

troops. Another clause of the act provided that if any military officer

should take upon himself to quarter soldiers in any of his Majesty's

dominions otherwise than as allowed by the act, he should be straightway

dismissed the service. At the news that the troops were about to arrive,

the governor was asked to convene the assembly, that it might be decided

how to receive them. On Bernard's refusal, the selectmen of Boston

issued a circular, inviting all the towns of Massachusetts to send

delegates to a general convention, in order that deliberate action might

be taken upon this important matter. In answer to the circular,

delegates from ninety-six towns assembled in Faneuil Hall, and, laughing

at the governor's order to "disperse," proceeded to show how, in the

exercise of the undoubted right of public meeting, the colony could

virtually legislate for itself, in the absence of its regular

legislature. The convention, finding that nothing was necessary for

Boston to do but insist upon strict compliance with the letter of the

law, adjourned. In October, two regiments arrived, and were allowed to

land without opposition, but no lodging was provided for them. Bernard,

in fear of an affray, had gone out into the country; but nothing could

have been farther from the thoughts of the people. The commander,

Colonel Dalrymple, requested shelter for his men, but was told that he

must quarter them in the barracks at Castle William. As the night was

frosty, however, the Sons of Liberty allowed them to sleep in Faneuil

Hall. Next day, the governor, finding everything quiet, came back, and

heard Dalrymple's complaint. But in vain did he apply in turn to the

council, to the selectmen, and to the justices of the peace, to grant

quarters for the troops; he was told that the law was plain, and that

the Castle must first be occupied. The governor then tried to get

possession of an old dilapidated building which belonged to the colony;

but the tenants had taken legal advice, and told him to turn them out if

he dared. Nothing could be more provoking. General Gage was obliged to

come on from his headquarters at New York; but not even he, the

commander-in-chief of his Majesty's forces in America, could quarter the

troops in violation of the statute without running the risk of being

cashiered, on conviction before two justices of the peace. So the

soldiers stayed at night in tents on the Common, until the weather grew

so cold that Dalrymple was obliged to hire some buildings for them at

exorbitant rates, and at the expense of the Crown. By way of insult to

the people, two cannon were planted on King Street, with their muzzles

pointing toward the Town House. But as the troops could do nothing

without a requisition from a civil magistrate, and as the usual strict

decorum was preserved throughout the town, there was nothing in the

world for them to do. In case of an insurrection, the force was too

small to be of any use; and so far as the policy of overawing the town

was concerned, no doubt the soldiers were more afraid of the people than

the people of the soldiers.

[Sidenote: Letters of "Vindex"]

No sooner were the soldiers thus established in Boston than Samuel Adams

published a series of letters signed "Vindex," in which he argued that

to keep up "a standing army within the kingdom in time of peace, without

the consent of Parliament, was against the law; that the consent of

Parliament necessarily implied the consent of the people, who were

always present in Parliament, either by themselves or by their

representatives; and that the Americans, as they were not and could not

be represented in Parliament, were therefore suffering under military

tyranny over which they were allowed to exercise no control." The only

notice taken of this argument by Bernard and Hillsborough was an attempt

to collect evidence upon the strength of which its author might be

indicted for treason, and sent over to London to be tried; but Adams had

been so wary in all his proceedings that it was impossible to charge him

with any technical offence, and to have seized him otherwise than by due

process of law would have been to precipitate rebellion in

Massachusetts.

[Portrait: GENERAL HENRY CONWAY]

[Portrait: Isaac Barré]

[Sidenote: Debate in Parliament]

[Sidenote: Colonel Barré's speech]

In Parliament, the proposal to extend the act of Henry VIII. to America

was bitterly opposed by Burke, Barré, Pownall, and Dowdeswell, as well

as by Grenville, who characterized it as sheer madness; but the measure

was carried, nevertheless. Burke further maintained, in an eloquent

speech, that the royal order requiring Massachusetts to rescind her

circular letter was unconstitutional; and here again Grenville agreed

with him. The attention of Parliament, during the spring of 1769, was

occupied chiefly with American affairs. Pownall moved that the Townshend

acts should be repealed, and in this he was earnestly seconded by a

petition of the London merchants; for the non-importation policy of

Americans had begun to bear hard upon business in London. After much

debate, Lord North proposed a compromise, repealing all the Townshend

acts except that which laid duty on tea. The more clear-headed members

saw that such a compromise, which yielded nothing in the matter of

principle, would do no good. Beckford pointed out the fact that the

tea-duty did not bring in £300 to the government; and Lord Beauchamp

pertinently asked whether it were worth while, for such a paltry

revenue, to make enemies of three millions of people. Grafton, Camden,

Conway, Burke, Barré, and Dowdeswell wished to have the tea-duty

repealed also, and the whole principle of parliamentary taxation given

up; and Lord North agreed with them in his secret heart, but could not

bring himself to act contrary to the king's wishes. "America must fear

you before she can love you," said Lord North.... "I am against

repealing the last act of Parliament, securing to us a revenue out of

America; I will never think of repealing it until I see America

prostrate at my feet." "To effect this," said Barré, "is not so easy as

some imagine; the Americans are a numerous, a respectable, a hardy, a

free people. But were it ever so easy, does any friend to his country

really wish to see America thus humbled? In such a situation, she would

serve only as a monument of your arrogance and your folly. For my part,

the America I wish to see is America increasing and prosperous, raising

her head in graceful dignity, with freedom and firmness asserting her

rights at your bar, vindicating her liberties, pleading her services,

and conscious of her merit. This is the America that will have spirit to

fight your battles, to sustain you when hard pushed by some prevailing

foe, and by her industry will be able to consume your manufactures,

support your trade, and pour wealth and splendour into your towns and

cities. If we do not change our conduct towards her, America will be

torn from our side.... Unless you repeal this law, you run the risk of

losing America." But the ministers were deaf to Barré's sweet

reasonableness. "We shall grant nothing to the Americans," said Lord

Hillsborough, "except what they may ask with a halter round their

necks." "They are a race of convicted felons," echoed poor old Dr.

Johnson,--who had probably been reading Moll Flanders,--"and they ought

to be thankful for anything we allow them short of hanging."

[Portrait: Thos. Hutchinson]

[Sidenote: Thomas Hutchinson]

As the result of the discussion, Lord North's so-called compromise was

adopted, and a circular was sent to America, promising that all the

obnoxious acts, except the tea duty, should be repealed. At the same

time, Bernard was recalled from Massachusetts to appease the indignation

of the people, and made a baronet to show that the ministry approved of

his conduct as governor. His place was filled by the

lieutenant-governor, Thomas Hutchinson, a man of great learning and

brilliant talent, whose "History of Massachusetts Bay" entitles him to a

high rank among the worthies of early American literature. The next year

Hutchinson was appointed governor. As a native of Massachusetts, it was

supposed by Lord North that he would be less likely to irritate the

people than his somewhat arrogant predecessor. But in this the

government turned out to be mistaken. As to Hutchinson's sincere

patriotism there can now be no doubt whatever. There was something

pathetic in the intensity of his love for New England, which to him was

the goodliest of all lands, the paradise of this world. He had been

greatly admired for his learning and accomplishments, and the people of

Massachusetts had elected him to one office after another, and shown him

every mark of esteem until the evil days of the Stamp Act. It then began

to appear that he was a Tory on principle, and a thorough believer in

the British doctrine of the absolute supremacy of Parliament, and

popular feeling presently turned against him. He was called a turncoat

and traitor, and a thankless dog withal, whose ruling passion was

avarice. His conduct and his motives were alike misjudged. He had tried

to dissuade the Grenville ministry from passing the Stamp Act; but when

once the obnoxious measure had become law, he thought it his duty to

enforce it like other laws. For this he was charged with being recreant

to his own convictions, and in the shameful riot of August, 1765, he was

the worst sufferer. No public man in America has ever been the object of

more virulent hatred. None has been more grossly misrepresented by

historians. His appointment as governor, however well meant, turned out

to be anything but a wise measure.

[Illustration: CAPITOL AT WILLIAMSBURGH, VIRGINIA]

[Sidenote: Virginia resolutions, 1769]

While these things were going on, a strong word of sympathy came from

Virginia. When Hillsborough made up his mind to browbeat Boston, he

thought it worth while to cajole the Virginians, and try to win them

from the cause which Massachusetts was so boldly defending. So Lord

Botetourt, a genial and conciliatory man, was sent over to be governor

of Virginia, to beguile the people with his affable manner and sweet

discourse. But between a quarrelsome Bernard and a gracious Botetourt

the practical difference was little, where grave questions of

constitutional right were involved. In May, 1769, the House of Burgesses

assembled at Williamsburgh. Among its members were Patrick Henry,

Washington, and Jefferson. The assembly condemned the Townshend acts,

asserted that the people of Virginia could be taxed only by their own

representatives, declared that it was both lawful and expedient for all

the colonies to join in a protest against any violation of the rights of

Americans, and especially warned the king of the dangers that might

ensue if any American citizen were to be carried beyond sea for trial.

Finally, it sent copies of these resolutions to all the other colonial

assemblies, inviting their concurrence. At this point Lord Botetourt

dissolved the assembly; but the members straightway met again in

convention at the famous Apollo room of the Raleigh tavern, and adopted

a series of resolutions prepared by Washington, in which they pledged

themselves to continue the policy of non-importation until all the

obnoxious acts of 1767 should be repealed. These resolutions were

adopted by all the southern colonies.

[Illustration: APOLLO ROOM IN THE RALEIGH TAVERN]

[Illustration: STOVE USED IN THE HOUSE OF BURGESSES]

[Sidenote: Assault on James Otis]

All through the year 1769, the British troops remained quartered in

Boston at the king's expense. According to Samuel Adams, their principal

employment seemed to be to parade in the streets, and by their

merry-andrew tricks to excite the contempt of women and children. But

the soldiers did much to annoy the people, to whom their very presence

was an insult. They led brawling, riotous lives, and made the quiet

streets hideous by night with their drunken shouts. Scores of loose

women, who had followed the regiments across the ocean, came to

scandalize the town for a while, and then to encumber the almshouse. On

Sundays the soldiers would race horses on the Common, or play Yankee

Doodle just outside the church-doors during the services. Now and then

oaths, or fisticuffs, or blows with sticks, were exchanged between

soldiers and citizens, and once or twice a more serious affair occurred.

One evening in September, a dastardly assault was made upon James Otis,

in the British Coffee House, by one Robinson, a commissioner of customs,

assisted by half a dozen army officers. It reminds one of the assault

upon Charles Sumner by Brooks of South Carolina, shortly before the War

of Secession. Otis was savagely beaten, and received a blow on the head

with a sword, from the effects of which he never recovered, but finally

lost his reason. The popular wrath at this outrage was intense, but

there was no disturbance. Otis brought suit against Robinson, and

recovered £2,000 in damages, but refused to accept a penny of it when

Robinson confessed himself in the wrong, and humbly asked pardon for

his irreparable offence.

[Illustration: OLD BRICK MEETING-HOUSE]

[Illustration: PAUL REVERE'S PLAN OF KING STREET IN 1770

(_Used in the trial of the soldiers_)]

[Sidenote: The "Boston Massacre"]

On the 22d of February, 1770, an informer named Richardson, being pelted

by a party of schoolboys, withdrew into his house, opened a window, and

fired at random into the crowd, killing one little boy and severely

wounding another. He was found guilty of murder, but was pardoned. At

last, on the 2d of March, an angry quarrel occurred between a party of

soldiers and some of the workmen at a ropewalk, and for two or three

days there was considerable excitement in the town, and people talked

together, standing about the streets in groups; but Hutchinson did not

even take the precaution of ordering the soldiers to be kept within

their barracks, for he did not believe that the people intended a riot,

nor that the troops would dare to fire on the citizens without express

permission from himself. On the evening of March 5th, at about eight

o'clock, a large crowd collected near the barracks, on Brattle Street,

and from bandying abusive epithets with the soldiers began pelting them

with snow-balls and striking at them with sticks, while the soldiers now

and then dealt blows with their muskets. Presently Captain Goldfinch,

coming along, ordered the men into their barracks for the night, and

thus stopped the affray. But meanwhile some one had got into the Old

Brick Meeting-House, opposite the head of King Street, and rung the

bell; and this, being interpreted as an alarm of fire, brought out many

people into the moonlit streets. It was now a little past nine. The

sentinel who was pacing in front of the Custom House had a few minutes

before knocked down a barber's boy for calling names at the captain, as

he went up to stop the affray on Brattle Street. The crowd in King

Street now began to pelt the sentinel, and some shouted, "Kill him!"

when Captain Preston and seven privates from the twenty-ninth regiment

crossed the street to his aid: and thus the file of nine soldiers

confronted an angry crowd of fifty or sixty unarmed men, who pressed up

to the very muzzles of their guns, threw snow at their faces, and dared

them to fire. All at once, but quite unexpectedly and probably without

orders from Preston, seven of the levelled pieces were discharged,

instantly killing four men and wounding seven others, of whom two

afterwards died. Immediately the alarm was spread through the town, and

it might have gone hard with the soldiery, had not Hutchinson presently

arrived on the scene, and quieted the people by ordering the arrest of

Preston and his men. Next morning the council advised the removal of one

of the regiments, but in the afternoon an immense town meeting, called

at Faneuil Hall, adjourned to the Old South Meeting-House; and as they

passed by the Town House (or what we now call the Old State House), the

lieutenant-governor, looking out upon their march, judged "their spirit

to be as high as was the spirit of their ancestors when they imprisoned

Andros, while they were four times as numerous." All the way from the

church to the Town House the street was crowded with the people, while a

committee, headed by Samuel Adams, waited upon the governor, and

received his assurance that one regiment should be removed. As the

committee came out from the Town House, to carry the governor's reply to

the meeting in the church, the people pressed back on either side to let

them pass; and Adams, leading the way with uncovered head through the

lane thus formed, and bowing first to one side and then to the other,

passed along the watchword, "Both regiments, or none!" When, in the

church, the question was put to vote, three thousand voices shouted,

"Both regiments, or none!" and armed with this ultimatum the committee

returned to the Town House, where the governor was seated with Colonel

Dalrymple and the members of the council. Then Adams, in quiet but

earnest tones, stretching forth his arm and pointing his finger at

Hutchinson, said that if as acting governor of the province he had the

power to remove one regiment he had equally the power to remove both,

that the voice of three thousand freemen demanded that all soldiery be

forthwith removed from the town, and that if he failed to heed their

just demand, he did so at his peril. "I observed his knees to tremble,"

said the old hero afterward, "I saw his face grow pale,--and I enjoyed

the sight!" That Hutchinson was agitated we may well believe; not from

fear, but from a sudden sickening sense of the odium of his position as

king's representative at such a moment. He was a man of invincible

courage, and surely would never have yielded to Adams, had he not known

that the law was on the side of the people and that the soldiers were

illegal trespassers in Boston. Before sundown the order had gone forth

for the removal of both regiments to Castle William, and not until then

did the meeting in the church break up. From that day forth the

fourteenth and twenty-ninth regiments were known in Parliament as "the

Sam Adams regiments."

[Illustration: OLD STATE HOUSE, WEST FRONT]

[Sidenote: Some lessons of the "Massacre"]

Such was the famous Boston Massacre. All the mildness of New England

civilization is brought most strikingly before us in that truculent

phrase. The careless shooting of half a dozen townsmen is described by a

word which historians apply to such events as Cawnpore or the Sicilian

Vespers. Lord Sherbrooke, better known as Robert Lowe, declared a few

years ago, in a speech on the uses of a classical education, that the

battle of Marathon was really of less account than a modern colliery

explosion, because only one hundred and ninety-two of the Greek army

lost their lives! From such a point of view, one might argue that the

Boston Massacre was an event of far less importance than an ordinary

free fight among Colorado gamblers. It is needless to say that this is

not the historical point of view. Historical events are not to be

measured with a foot-rule. This story of the Boston Massacre is a very

trite one, but it has its lessons. It furnishes an instructive

illustration of the high state of civilization reached by the people

among whom it happened,--by the oppressors as well as those whom it was

sought to oppress. The quartering of troops in a peaceful town is

something that has in most ages been regarded with horror. Under the

senatorial government of Rome, it used to be said that the quartering of

troops, even upon a friendly province and for the purpose of protecting

it, was a visitation only less to be dreaded than an inroad of hostile

barbarians. When we reflect that the British regiments were encamped in

Boston during seventeen months, among a population to whom they were

thoroughly odious, the fact that only half a dozen persons lost their

lives, while otherwise no really grave crimes seem to have been

committed, is a fact quite as creditable to the discipline of the

soldiers as to the moderation of the people. In most ages and countries,

the shooting of half a dozen citizens under such circumstances would

either have produced but a slight impression, or, on the other hand,

would perhaps have resulted on the spot in a wholesale slaughter of the

offending soldiers. The fact that so profound an impression was made in

Boston and throughout the country, while at the same time the guilty

parties were left to be dealt with in the ordinary course of law, is a

striking commentary upon the general peacefulness and decorum of

American life, and it shows how high and severe was the standard by

which our forefathers judged all lawless proceedings. And here it may

not be irrelevant to add that, throughout the constitutional struggles

which led to the Revolution, the American standard of political right

and wrong was so high that contemporary European politicians found it

sometimes difficult to understand it. And for a like reason, even the

most fair-minded English historians sometimes fail to see why the

Americans should have been so quick to take offence at acts of the

British government which doubtless were not meant to be oppressive. If

George III. had been a bloodthirsty despot, like Philip II. of Spain; if

General Gage had been another Duke of Alva; if American citizens by the

hundred had been burned alive or broken on the wheel in New York and

Boston; if whole towns had been given up to the cruelty and lust of a

beastly soldiery, then no one--not even Dr. Johnson--would have found it

hard to understand why the Americans should have exhibited a rebellious

temper. But it is one signal characteristic of the progress of political

civilization that the part played by sheer brute force in a barbarous

age is fully equalled by the part played by a mere covert threat of

injustice in a more advanced age. The effect which a blow in the face

would produce upon a barbarian will be wrought upon a civilized man by

an assertion of some far-reaching legal principle, which only in a

subtle and ultimate analysis includes the possibility of a blow in the

face. From this point of view, the quickness with which such acts as

those of Charles Townshend were comprehended in their remotest bearings

is the must striking proof one could wish of the high grade of political

culture which our forefathers had reached through their system of

perpetual free discussion in town meeting. They had, moreover, reached a

point where any manifestation of brute force in the course of a

political dispute was exceedingly disgusting and shocking to them. To

their minds, the careless slaughter of six citizens conveyed as much

meaning as a St. Bartholomew massacre would have conveyed to the minds

of men in a lower stage of political development. It was not strange,

therefore, that Samuel Adams and his friends should have been ready to

make the Boston Massacre the occasion of a moral lesson to their

contemporaries. As far as the poor soldiers were concerned, the most

significant fact is that there was no attempt to wreak a paltry

vengeance on them. Brought to trial on a charge of murder, after a

judicious delay of seven months, they were ably defended by John Adams

and Josiah Quincy, and all were acquitted save two, who were convicted

of manslaughter, and let off with slight punishment. There were some

hotheads who grumbled at the verdict, but the people of Boston generally

acquiesced in it, as they showed by immediately choosing John Adams for

their representative in the assembly--a fact which Mr. Lecky calls very

remarkable. Such an event as the Boston Massacre could not fail for a

long time to point a moral among a people so unused to violence and

bloodshed. One of the earliest of American engravers, Paul Revere,

published a quaint coloured engraving of the scene in King Street, which

for a long time was widely circulated, though it has now become very

scarce. At the same time, it was decided that the fatal Fifth of March

should be solemnly commemorated each year by an oration to be delivered

in the Old South Meeting-House; and this custom was kept up until the

recognition of American independence in 1783, when the day for the

oration was changed to the Fourth of July.

[Sidenote: Lord North's ministry]

[Sidenote: The merchants of New York]

Five weeks before the Boston Massacre the Duke of Grafton had resigned,

and Lord North had become prime minister of England. The colonies were

kept under Hillsborough, and that great friend of arbitrary government,

Lord Thurlow, as solicitor-general, became the king's chief legal

adviser. George III was now, to all intents and purposes, his own prime

minister, and remained so until after the overthrow at Yorktown. The

colonial policy of the government soon became more vexatious than ever.

The promised repeal of all the Townshend acts, except the act imposing

the tea-duty, was carried through Parliament in April, and its first

effect in America, as Lord North had foreseen, was to weaken the spirit

of opposition, and to divide the more complaisant colonies from those

that were most staunch. The policy of non-importation had pressed with

special severity upon the commerce of New York, and the merchants there

complained that the fire-eating planters of Virginia and farmers of

Massachusetts were growing rich at the expense of their neighbours. In

July, the New York merchants broke the non-importation agreement, and

sent orders to England for all sorts of merchandise except tea. Such a

measure, on the part of so great a seaport, virtually overthrew the

non-importation policy, upon which the patriots mainly relied to force

the repeal of the Tea Act. The wrath of the other colonies was intense.

At the Boston town meeting the letter of the New York merchants was torn

in pieces. In New Jersey, the students of Princeton College, James

Madison being one of the number, assembled on the green in their black

gowns and solemnly burned the letter, while the church-bells were

tolled. The offending merchants were stigmatized as "Revolters," and in

Charleston their conduct was vehemently denounced. "You had better send

us your old liberty-pole," said Philadelphia to New York, with bitter

sarcasm, "for you clearly have no further use for it."

[Sidenote: Assemblies convened at strange places]

[Sidenote: Taxes in Maryland]

[Sidenote: The North Carolina "Regulators"]

This breaking of the non-importation agreement by New York left no

general issue upon which the colonies could be sure to unite unless the

ministry should proceed to force an issue upon the Tea Act. For the

present, Lord North saw the advantage he had gained, and was not

inclined to take any such step. Nevertheless, as just observed, the

policy of the government soon became more vexatious than ever. In the

summer of 1770, the king entered upon a series of local quarrels with

the different colonies, taking care not to raise any general issue.

Royal instructions were sent over to the different governments,

enjoining courses of action which were unconstitutional and sure to

offend the people. The assemblies were either dissolved, or convened at

strange places, as at Beaufort in South Carolina, more than seventy

miles from the capital, or at Cambridge in Massachusetts. The local

governments were as far as possible ignored, and local officers were

appointed, with salaries to be paid by the Crown. In Massachusetts,

these officers were illegally exempted from the payment of taxes. In

Maryland, where the charter had expressly provided that no taxes could

ever be levied by the British Crown, the governor was ordered to levy

taxes indirectly by reviving a law regulating officers' fees, which had

expired by lapse of time. In North Carolina, excessive fees were

extorted, and the sheriffs in many cases collected taxes of which they

rendered no account. The upper counties of both the Carolinas were

peopled by a hardy set of small farmers and herdsmen, Presbyterians, of

Scotch-Irish pedigree, who were known by the name of "Regulators,"

because, under the exigencies of their rough frontier life, they formed

voluntary associations for the regulation of their own police and the

condign punishment of horse-thieves and other criminals. In 1771, the

North Carolina Regulators, goaded by repeated acts of extortion and of

unlawful imprisonment, rose in rebellion. A battle was fought at

Alamance, near the headwaters of the Cape Fear river, in which the

Regulators were totally defeated by Governor Tryon, leaving more than a

hundred of their number dead and wounded upon the field: and six of

their leaders, taken prisoners, were summarily hanged for treason. After

this achievement Tryon was promoted to the governorship of New York,

where he left his name for a time upon the vaguely defined wilderness

beyond Schenectady, known in the literature of the Revolutionary War as

Tryon County.

[Signature: Wm Tryon]

[Portrait: Step Hopkins]

[Sidenote: Affair of the Gaspee]

In Rhode Island, the eight-gun schooner Gaspee, commanded by Lieutenant

Duddington, was commissioned to enforce the revenue acts along the

coasts of Narragansett Bay, and she set about the work with reckless and

indiscriminating zeal. "Thorough" was Duddington's motto, as it was Lord

Stafford's. He not only stopped and searched every vessel that entered

the bay, and seized whatever goods he pleased, whether there was any

evidence of their being contraband or not, but, besides this, he stole

the sheep and hogs of the farmers near the coast, cut down their trees,

fired upon market-boats, and behaved in general with unbearable

insolence. In March, 1772, the people of Rhode Island complained of

these outrages. The matter was referred to Rear-Admiral Montagu,

commanding the little fleet in Boston harbour. Montagu declared that the

lieutenant was only doing his duty, and threatened the Rhode Island

people in case they should presume to interfere. For three months longer

the Gaspee kept up her irritating behaviour, until one evening in June,

while chasing a swift American ship, she ran aground. The following

night she was attacked by a party of men in eight boats, and captured

after a short skirmish, in which Duddington was severely wounded. The

crew was set on shore, and the schooner was burned to the water's edge.

This act of reprisal was not relished by the government, and large

rewards were offered for the arrest of the men concerned in it; but

although probably everybody knew who they were, it was impossible to

obtain any evidence against them. By a royal order in council, the Rhode

Island government was commanded to arrest the offenders and deliver them

to Rear-Admiral Montagu, to be taken over to England for trial; but

Stephen Hopkins, the venerable chief justice of Rhode Island, flatly

refused to take cognizance of any such arrest if made within the colony.

[Portrait: Jonathan Mayhew]

[Sidenote: The salaries of the judges]

[Sidenote: Jonathan Mayhew's suggestion]

[Sidenote: The committees of correspondence in Massachusetts]

The black thunder clouds of war now gathered quickly. In August, 1772,

the king ventured upon an act which went further than anything that had

yet occurred toward hastening on the crisis. It was ordered that all the

Massachusetts judges, holding their places during the king's pleasure,

should henceforth have their salaries paid by the Crown, and not by the

colony. This act, which aimed directly at the independence of the

judiciary, aroused intense indignation. The people of Massachusetts were

furious, and Samuel Adams now took a step which contributed more than

anything that had yet been done toward organizing the opposition to the

king throughout the whole country. The idea of establishing committees

of correspondence was not wholly new. The great preacher Jonathan Mayhew

had recommended such a step to James Otis in 1766, and he was led to it

through his experience of church matters. Writing in haste, on a Sunday

morning, he said, "To a good man all time is holy enough; and none is

too holy to do good, or to think upon it. Cultivating a good

understanding and hearty friendship between these colonies appears to me

so necessary a part of prudence and good policy that no favourable

opportunity for that purpose should be omitted.... You have heard of the

_communion of churches_: ... while I was thinking of this in my bed, the

great use and importance of a _communion of colonies_ appeared to me in

a strong light, which led me immediately to set down these hints to

transmit to you." The plan which Mayhew had in mind was the

establishment of a regular system of correspondence whereby the colonies

could take combined action in defence of their liberties. In the grand

crisis of 1772, Samuel Adams saw how much might be effected through

committees of correspondence that could not well be effected through

the ordinary governmental machinery of the colonies. At the October town

meeting in Boston, a committee was appointed to ask the governor whether

the judges' salaries were to be paid in conformity to the royal order;

and he was furthermore requested to convoke the assembly, in order that

the people might have a chance to express their views on so important a

matter. But Hutchinson told the committee to mind its own business: he

refused to say what would be done about the salaries, and denied the

right of the town to petition for a meeting of the assembly.

Massachusetts was thus virtually without a general government at a

moment when the public mind was agitated by a question of supreme

importance. Samuel Adams thereupon in town meeting moved the appointment

of a committee of correspondence, "to consist of twenty-one persons, to

state the rights of the colonists and of this province in particular, as

men and Christians and as subjects; and to communicate and publish the

same to the several towns and to the world as the sense of this town,

with the infringements and violations thereof that have been, or from

time to time may be, made." The adoption of this measure at first

excited the scorn of Hutchinson, who described the committee as composed

of "deacons," "atheists," and "black-hearted fellows," whom one would

not care to meet in the dark. He predicted that they would only make

themselves ridiculous, but he soon found reason to change his mind. The

response to the statements of the Boston committee was prompt and

unanimous, and before the end of the year more than eighty towns had

already organized their committees of correspondence. Here was a new

legislative body, springing directly from the people, and competent, as

events soon showed, to manage great affairs. Its influence reached into

every remotest corner of Massachusetts, it was always virtually in

session, and no governor could dissolve or prorogue it. Though unknown

to the law, the creation of it involved no violation of law. The right

of the towns of Massachusetts to ask one another's advice could no more

be disputed than the right of the freemen of any single town to hold a

town meeting. The power thus created was omnipresent, but intangible.

"This," said Daniel Leonard, the great Tory pamphleteer, two years

afterwards, "is the foulest, subtlest, and most venomous serpent ever

issued from the egg of sedition. It is the source of the rebellion. I

saw the small seed when it was planted: it was a grain of mustard. I

have watched the plant until it has become a great tree. The vilest

reptiles that crawl upon the earth are concealed at the root; the

foulest birds of the air rest upon its branches. I would now induce you

to go to work immediately with axes and hatchets and cut it down, for a

twofold reason,--because it is a pest to society, and lest it be felled

suddenly by a stronger arm, and crush its thousands in its fall."

[Signature: Danl Leonard]

[Sidenote: Intercolonial committees of correspondence]

The system of committees of correspondence did indeed grow into a mighty

tree; for it was nothing less than the beginning of the American Union.

Adams himself by no means intended to confine his plan to Massachusetts,

for in the following April he wrote to Richard Henry Lee of Virginia

urging the establishment of similar committees in every colony. But

Virginia had already acted in the matter. When its assembly met in

March, 1773, the news of the refusal of Hopkins to obey the royal order,

of the attack upon the Massachusetts judiciary, and of the organization

of the committees of correspondence was the all-exciting subject of

conversation. The motion to establish a system of intercolonial

committees of correspondence was made by the youthful Dabney Carr, and

eloquently supported by Patrick Henry and Richard Henry Lee. It was

unanimously adopted, and very soon several other colonies elected

committees, in response to the invitation from Virginia.

[Sidenote: The question of taxation revived]

This was the most decided step toward revolution that had yet been taken

by the Americans. It only remained for the various intercolonial

committees to assemble together, and there would be a Congress speaking

in the name of the continent. To bring about such an act of union,

nothing more was needed than some fresh course of aggression on the part

of the British government which should raise a general issue in all the

colonies; and, with the rare genius for blundering which had possessed

it ever since the accession of George III., the government now went on

to provide such an issue. It was preëminently a moment when the question

of taxation should have been let alone. Throughout the American world

there was a strong feeling of irritation, which might still have been

allayed had the ministry shown a yielding temper. The grounds of

complaint had come to be different in the different colonies, and in

some cases, in which we can clearly see the good sense of Lord North

prevailing over the obstinacy of the king, the ministry had gained a

point by yielding. In the Rhode Island case, they had seized a

convenient opportunity and let the matter drop, to the manifest

advantage of their position. In Massachusetts, the discontent had come

to be alarming, and it was skilfully organized. The assembly had offered

the judges their salaries in the usual form, and had threatened to

impeach them if they should dare to accept a penny from the Crown. The

recent action of Virginia had shown that these two most powerful of the

colonies were in strong sympathy with one another. It was just this

moment that George III. chose for reviving the question of taxation,

upon which all the colonies would be sure to act as a unit, and sure to

withstand him to his face. The duty on tea had been retained simply as a

matter of principle. It did not bring three hundred pounds a year into

the British exchequer. But the king thought this a favourable time for

asserting the obnoxious principle which the tax involved.

[Signature: Dartmouth]

[Sidenote: The king's ingenious scheme]

Thus, as in Mrs. Gamp's case, a teapot became the cause or occasion of a

division between friends. The measures now taken by the government

brought matters at once to a crisis. None of the colonies would take

tea on its terms. Lord Hillsborough had lately been superseded as

colonial secretary by Lord Dartmouth, an amiable man like the prime

minister, but like him wholly under the influence of the king. Lord

Dartmouth's appointment was made the occasion of introducing a series of

new measures. The affairs of the East India Company were in a bad

condition, and it was thought that the trouble was partly due to the

loss of the American trade in tea. The Americans would not buy tea

shipped from England, but they smuggled it freely from Holland, and the

smuggling could not be stopped by mere force. The best way to obviate

the difficulty, it was thought, would be to make English tea cheaper in

America than foreign tea, while still retaining the duty of threepence

on a pound. If this could be achieved, it was supposed that the

Americans would be sure to buy English tea by reason of its cheapness,

and would thus be ensnared into admitting the principle involved in the

duty. This ingenious scheme shows how unable the king and his ministers

were to imagine that the Americans could take a higher view of the

matter than that of pounds, shillings, and pence. In order to enable the

East India Company to sell its tea cheap in America, a drawback was

allowed of all the duties which such tea had been wont to pay on

entering England on its way from China. In this way, the Americans would

now find it actually cheaper to buy the English tea with the duty on it

than to smuggle their tea from Holland. To this scheme, Lord North said,

it was of no use for any one to offer objections, for the king would

have it so. "The king meant to try the question with America." In

accordance with this policy, several ships loaded with tea set sail in

the autumn of 1773 for the four principal ports, Boston, New York,

Philadelphia, and Charleston. Agents or consignees of the East India

Company were appointed by letter to receive the tea in these four towns.

[Sidenote: How Boston became the battle-ground]

As soon as the details of this scheme were known in America, the whole

country was in a blaze, from Maine to Georgia. Nevertheless, only legal

measures of resistance were contemplated. In Philadelphia, a great

meeting was held in October at the State House, and it was voted that

whosoever should lend countenance to the receiving or unloading of the

tea would be regarded as an enemy to his country. The consignees were

then requested to resign their commissions, and did so. In New York and

Charleston, also, the consignees threw up their commissions. In Boston,

a similar demand was made, but the consignees doggedly refused to

resign; and thus the eyes of the whole country were directed toward

Boston as the battlefield on which the great issue was to be tried.

[Illustration: LORD NORTH POURING TEA DOWN COLUMBIA'S THROAT]

[Sidenote: The five towns ask advice]

During the month of November many town meetings were held in Faneuil

Hall. On the 17th, authentic intelligence was brought that the tea-ships

would soon arrive. The next day, a committee, headed by Samuel Adams,

waited upon the consignees, and again asked them to resign. Upon their

refusal, the town meeting instantly dissolved itself, without a word of

comment or debate; and at this ominous silence the consignees and the

governor were filled with a vague sense of alarm, as if some storm were

brewing whereof none could foresee the results. All felt that the

decision now rested with the committees of correspondence. Four days

afterward, the committees of Cambridge, Brookline, Roxbury, and

Dorchester met the Boston committee at Faneuil Hall, and it was

unanimously resolved that on no account should the tea be landed. The

five towns also sent a letter to all the other towns in the colony,

saying, "Brethren, we are reduced to this dilemma: either to sit down

quiet under this and every other burden that our enemies shall see fit

to lay upon us, or to rise up and resist this and every plan laid for

our destruction, as becomes wise freemen. In this extremity we

earnestly request your advice." There was nothing weak or doubtful in

the response. From Petersham and Lenox perched on their lofty hilltops,

from the valleys of the Connecticut and the Merrimack, from Chatham on

the bleak peninsula of Cape Cod, there came but one message,--to give up

life and all that makes life dear, rather than submit like slaves to

this great wrong. Similar words of encouragement came from other

colonies. In Philadelphia, at the news of the bold stand Massachusetts

was about to take, the church-bells were rung, and there was general

rejoicing about the streets. A letter from the men of Philadelphia to

the men of Boston said, "Our only fear is lest you may shrink. May God

give you virtue enough to save the liberties of your country."

[Sidenote: Arrival of the tea; meeting at the Old South]

On Sunday, the 28th, the Dartmouth, first of the tea-ships, arrived in

the harbour. The urgency of the business in hand overcame the

sabbatarian scruples of the people. The committee of correspondence met

at once, and obtained from Francis Rotch, the owner of the vessel, a

promise that the ship should not be entered before Tuesday. Samuel Adams

then invited the committees of the five towns, to which Charlestown was

now added, to hold a mass-meeting the next morning at Faneuil Hall. More

than five thousand people assembled, but as the Cradle of Liberty could

not hold so many, the meeting was adjourned to the Old South

Meeting-House. It was voted, without a single dissenting voice, that the

tea should be sent back to England in the ship which had brought it.

Rotch was forbidden to enter the ship at the Custom House, and Captain

Hall, the ship's master, was notified that "it was at his peril if he

suffered any of the tea brought by him to be landed." A night-watch of

twenty-five citizens was set to guard the vessel, and so the meeting

adjourned till next day, when it was understood that the consignees

would be ready to make some proposals in the matter. Next day, the

message was brought from the consignees that it was out of their power

to send back the tea; but if it should be landed, they declared

themselves willing to store it, and not expose any of it for sale until

word could be had from England. Before action could be taken upon this

message, the sheriff of Suffolk county entered the church and read a

proclamation from the governor, warning the people to disperse and

"surcease all further unlawful proceedings at their utmost peril." A

storm of hisses was the only reply, and the business of the meeting went

on. The proposal of the consignees was rejected, and Rotch and Hall,

being present, were made to promise that the tea should go back to

England in the Dartmouth, without being landed or paying duty.

Resolutions were then passed, forbidding all owners or masters of ships

to bring any tea from Great Britain to any part of Massachusetts, so

long as the act imposing a duty on it remained unrepealed. Whoever

should disregard this injunction would be treated as an enemy to his

country, his ships would be prevented from landing--by force, if

necessary--and his tea would be sent back to the place whence it came.

It was further voted that the citizens of Boston and the other towns

here assembled would see that these resolutions were carried into

effect, "at the risk of their lives and property." Notice of these

resolutions was sent to the owners of the other ships, now daily

expected. And, to crown all, a committee, of which Adams was chairman,

was appointed to send a printed copy of these proceedings to New York

and Philadelphia, to every seaport in Massachusetts, and to the British

government.

[Sidenote: The tea-ships placed under guard]

Two or three days after this meeting, the other two ships arrived, and,

under orders from the committee of correspondence, were anchored by the

side of the Dartmouth, at Griffin's Wharf, near the foot of Pearl

Street. A military watch was kept at the wharf day and night, sentinels

were placed in the church belfries, chosen post-riders, with horses

saddled and bridled, were ready to alarm the neighbouring towns,

beacon-fires were piled all ready for lighting upon every hilltop, and

any attempt to land the tea forcibly would have been the signal for an

instant uprising throughout at least four counties. Now, in accordance

with the laws providing for the entry and clearance of shipping at

custom houses, it was necessary that every ship should land its cargo

within twenty days from its arrival. In case this was not done, the

revenue officers were authorized to seize the ship and land its cargo

themselves. In the case of the Dartmouth, the captain had promised to

take her back to England without unloading; but still, before she could

legally start, she must obtain a clearance from the collector of

customs, or, in default of this, a pass from the governor. At sunrise of

Friday, the 17th of December, the twenty days would have expired.

[Illustration: THE OLD SOUTH MEETING-HOUSE]

On Saturday, the 11th, Rotch was summoned before the committee of

correspondence, and Samuel Adams asked him why he had not kept his

promise, and started his ship off for England. He sought to excuse

himself on the ground that he had not the power to do so, whereupon he

was told that he must apply to the collector for a clearance. Hearing of

these things, the governor gave strict orders at the Castle to fire upon

any vessel trying to get out to sea without a proper permit; and two

ships from Montagu's fleet, which had been laid up for the winter, were

stationed at the entrance of the harbour, to make sure against the

Dartmouth's going out. Tuesday came, and Rotch, having done nothing, was

summoned before the town meeting, and peremptorily ordered to apply for

a clearance. Samuel Adams and nine other gentlemen accompanied him to

the Custom House to witness the proceedings, but the collector refused

to give an answer until the next day. The meeting then adjourned till

Thursday, the last of the twenty days. On Wednesday morning, Rotch was

again escorted to the Custom House, and the collector refused to give a

clearance unless the tea should first be landed.

[Illustration: TABLE AND CHAIR FROM GOVERNOR HUTCHINSON'S HOUSE AT

MILTON]

[Sidenote: Town meeting at the Old South]

[Sidenote: The tea thrown into the harbour]

On the morning of Thursday, December 16th, the assembly which was

gathered in the Old South Meeting-House, and in the streets about it,

numbered more than seven thousand people. It was to be one of the most

momentous days in the history of the world. The clearance having been

refused, nothing now remained but to order Rotch to request a pass for

his ship from the governor. But the wary Hutchinson, well knowing what

was about to be required of him, had gone out to his country house at

Milton, so as to foil the proceedings by his absence. But the meeting

was not to be so trifled with. Rotch was enjoined, on his peril, to

repair to the governor at Milton, and ask for his pass; and while he was

gone, the meeting considered what was to be done in case of a refusal.

Without a pass it would be impossible for the ship to clear the harbour

under the guns of the Castle; and by sunrise, next morning, the revenue

officers would be empowered to seize the ship, and save by a violent

assault upon them it would be impossible to prevent the landing of the

tea. "Who knows," said John Rowe, "how tea will mingle with salt water?"

And great applause followed the suggestion. Yet the plan which was to

serve as a last resort had unquestionably been adopted in secret

committee long before this. It appears to have been worked out in detail

in a little back room at the office of the "Boston Gazette," and there

is no doubt that Samuel Adams, with some others of the popular leaders,

had a share in devising it. But among the thousands present at the town

meeting, it is probable that very few knew just what it was designed to

do. At five in the afternoon, it was unanimously voted that, come what

would, the tea should not be landed. It had now grown dark, and the

church was dimly lighted with candles. Determined not to act until the

last legal method of relief should have been tried and found wanting,

the great assembly was still waiting quietly in and about the church

when, an hour after nightfall, Rotch returned from Milton with the

governor's refusal. Then, amid profound stillness, Samuel Adams arose

and said, quietly but distinctly, "This meeting can do nothing more to

save the country." It was the declaration of war; the law had shown

itself unequal to the occasion, and nothing now remained but a direct

appeal to force. Scarcely had the watchword left his mouth when a

war-whoop answered from outside the door, and fifty men in the guise of

Mohawk Indians passed quickly by the entrance, and hastened to Griffin's

Wharf. Before the nine o'clock bell rang, the three hundred and

forty-two chests of tea laden upon the three ships had been cut open,

and their contents emptied into the sea. Not a person was harmed; no

other property was injured; and the vast crowd, looking upon the scene

from the wharf in the clear frosty moonlight, was so still that the

click of the hatchets could be distinctly heard. Next morning, the

salted tea, as driven by wind and wave, lay in long rows on Dorchester

beach, while Paul Revere, booted and spurred, was riding post-haste to

Philadelphia, with the glorious news that Boston had at last thrown down

the gauntlet for the king of England to pick up.

[Portrait: John Adams]

This heroic action of Boston was greeted with public rejoicing

throughout all the thirteen colonies, and the other principal seaports

were not slow to follow the example. A ship laden with two hundred and

fifty-seven chests of tea had arrived at Charleston on the 2d of

December; but the consignees had resigned, and after twenty days the

ship's cargo was seized and landed; and so, as there was no one to

receive it, or pay the duty, it was thrown into a damp cellar, where it

spoiled. In Philadelphia, on the 25th, a ship arrived with tea; but a

meeting of five thousand men forced the consignees to resign, and the

captain straightway set sail for England, the ship having been stopped

before it had come within the jurisdiction of the custom house.

[Sidenote: Grandeur of the Boston Tea Party]

In Massachusetts, the exultation knew no bounds. "This," said John

Adams, "is the most magnificent movement of all. There is a dignity, a

majesty, a sublimity, in this last effort of the patriots that I greatly

admire." Indeed, often as it has been cited and described, the Boston

Tea Party was an event so great that even American historians have

generally failed to do it justice. This supreme assertion by a New

England town meeting of the most fundamental principle of political

freedom has been curiously misunderstood by British writers, of whatever

party. The most recent Tory historian, Mr. Lecky,[2] speaks of "the

Tea-riot at Boston," and characterizes it as an "outrage." The most

recent Liberal historian, Mr. Green, alludes to it as "a trivial riot."

Such expressions betray most profound misapprehension alike of the

significance of this noble scene and of the political conditions in

which it originated. There is no difficulty in defining a riot. The

pages of history teem with accounts of popular tumults, wherein passion

breaks loose and wreaks its fell purpose, unguided and unrestrained by

reason. No definition could be further from describing the colossal

event which occurred in Boston on the 16th of December, 1773. Here

passion was guided and curbed by sound reason at every step, down to the

last moment, in the dim candle-light of the old church, when the noble

Puritan statesman quietly told his hearers that the moment for using

force had at last, and through no fault of theirs, arrived. They had

reached a point where the written law had failed them; and in their

effort to defend the eternal principles of natural justice, they were

now most reluctantly compelled to fall back upon the paramount law of

self-preservation. It was the one supreme moment in a controversy

supremely important to mankind, and in which the common-sense of the

world has since acknowledged that they were wholly in the right. It was

the one moment of all that troubled time in which no compromise was

possible. "Had the tea been landed," says the contemporary historian,

William Gordon, "the union of the colonies in opposing the ministerial

scheme would have been dissolved; and it would have been extremely

difficult ever after to have restored it." In view of the stupendous

issues at stake, the patience of the men of Boston was far more

remarkable than their boldness. For the quiet sublimity of reasonable

but dauntless moral purpose, the heroic annals of Greece and Rome can

show us no greater scene than that which the Old South Meeting-House

witnessed on the day when the tea was destroyed.

[Portrait: Geo. Germain]

[Sidenote: How Parliament received the news]

When the news of this affair reached England, it was quite naturally

pronounced by Lord North a fitting culmination to years of riot and

lawlessness. This, said Lord George Germain, is what comes of their

wretched old town meetings. The Americans have really no government.

These "are the proceedings of a tumultuous and riotous rabble, who

ought, if they had the least prudence, to follow their mercantile

employments, and not trouble themselves with politics and government,

which they do not understand. Some gentlemen say, 'Oh, don't break their

charter; don't take away rights granted them by the predecessors of the

Crown.' Whoever wishes to preserve such charters, I wish him no worse

than to govern such subjects." "These remarks," said Lord North, "are

worthy of a great mind." "If we take a determined stand now," said Lord

Mansfield, "Boston will submit, and all will end in victory without

carnage." "The town of Boston," said Mr. Venn, "ought to be knocked

about their ears and destroyed. You will never meet with proper

obedience to the laws of this country until you have destroyed that

nest of locusts." General Gage, who had just come home on a visit,

assured the king that the other colonies might speak fair words to

Massachusetts, but would do nothing to help her; and he offered with

four regiments to make a speedy end of the whole matter. "They will be

lions," said Gage, "while we are lambs; but if we take the resolute

part, they will prove very meek, I promise you." It was in this spirit

and under the influence of these ideas that the ministry took up the

business of dealing with the refractory colony of Massachusetts. Lord

North proposed a series of five measures, which from the king's point of

view would serve, not only to heal the wounded pride of Great Britain,

but also to prevent any more riotous outbreaks among this lawless

American people. Just at this moment, the opposition ventured upon a

bold stroke. Fox said truly that no plan for pacifying the colonies

would be worth a rush unless the unconditional repeal of the Tea Act

should form part of it. A bill for the repealing of the Tea Act was

brought in by Fuller, and a lively debate ensued, in the course of which

Edmund Burke made one of the weightiest speeches ever heard in the House

of Commons; setting forth in all the wealth of his knowledge the extreme

danger of the course upon which the ministry had entered, and showing

how little good fruit was to be expected from a coercive policy, even if

successful. Burke was ably supported by Fox, Conway, Barré, Savile,

Dowdeswell, Pownall, and Dunning. But the current had set too strongly

against conciliation. Lord North sounded the keynote of the whole

British policy when he said, "To repeal the tea-duty would stamp us with

timidity." Come what might, it would never do for the Americans to get

it into their heads that the government was not all-powerful. They must

be humbled first, that they might be reasoned with afterwards. The

tea-duty, accordingly, was not repealed, but Lord North's five acts for

the better regulation of American affairs were all passed by Parliament.

[Sidenote: The Boston Port Bill]

By the first act, known as the Boston Port Bill, no ships were to be

allowed to enter or clear the port of Boston until the rebellious town

should have indemnified the East India Company for the loss of its tea,

and should otherwise have made it appear to the king that it would

hereafter show a spirit of submission. Marblehead was made a port of

entry instead of Boston, and Salem was made the seat of government.

[Sidenote: The Regulating Act]

By the second act, known as the Regulating Act, the charter of

Massachusetts was annulled without preliminary notice, and her free

government was destroyed. Under the charter, the members of the council

for each year were chosen in a convention consisting of the council of

the preceding year and the assembly. Each councillor held office for a

year, and was paid out of an appropriation made by the assembly. Now,

hereafter, the members of the council were to be appointed by the

governor on a royal writ of _mandamus_, their salaries were to be paid

by the Crown, and they could be removed from office at the king's

pleasure. The governor was empowered to appoint all judges and officers

of courts, and all such officers were to be paid by the king and to hold

office during his pleasure. The governor and his dependent council could

appoint sheriffs and remove them without assigning any reason, and these

dependent sheriffs were to have the sole right of returning juries. But,

worse than all, the town-meeting system of local self-government was

ruthlessly swept away. Town meetings could indeed be held twice a year

for the election of town officers, but no other business could be

transacted in them. The effect of all these changes would, of course, be

to concentrate all power in the hands of the governor, leaving no check

whatever upon his arbitrary will. It would, in short, transform the

commonwealth of Massachusetts into an absolute despotism, such as no

Englishman had ever lived under in any age. And this tremendous act was

to go into operation on the first day of the following June.

[Illustration: VIRTUAL REPRESENTATION. _1775._

April 1 1775 Price 6.^{d}

1. One String Jack. Deliver your Property.

2. Began Just so in France } Accomplices

3. Te Deum }

4. I Give you that man's money for my use

5. I will not be Robbed

6. I shall be wounded with you

7. I am Blinded

8. The French Roman Cathlick Town of Quebeck

9. The English Protestant Town of Boston

The king's friends were fond of asserting that the Americans were

"virtually represented" in Parliament, through their British

friends in that body. On the back of the copy of this broadside,

"Virtual Representation," in the possession of the Massachusetts

Historical Society, is the following explanation, in the

handwriting of the time:--

"A full explanation of the within print.--No. 1 intends the K--g of

G. B., to whom the House of Commons (4) gives the Americans' money

for the use of that very H. of C., and which he is endeavouring to

take away with the power of cannon. No. 2, by a Frenchman signifies

the tyranny that is intended for America. No. 3, the figure of a

Roman Catholic priest with his crucifix and gibbet, assisting

George in enforcing his tyrannical system of civil and religious

government. Nos. 5 and 6 are honest American yeomen, who oppose an

oaken staff to G----'s cannon, and determine they will not be

robbed. No. 7 is poor Britannia blindfolded, falling into the

bottomless pit which her infamous rulers have prepared for the

Americans. Nos. 8, 9 represent Boston in flames and Quebec

triumphant, to show the probable consequence of submission to the

present wicked ministerial system, that popery and tyranny will

triumph over true religion, virtue, and liberty."]

[Sidenote: The shooting of citizens]

By the third act--a pet measure of George III., to which Lord North

assented with great reluctance--it was provided that if any magistrate,

soldier, or revenue officer in Massachusetts should be indicted for

murder, he should be tried, not in Massachusetts, but in Great Britain.

This measure--though doubtless unintentionally--served to encourage the

soldiery in shooting down peaceful citizens, and it led by a natural

sequence to the bloodshed on Lexington green. It was defended on the

ground that in case of any chance affray between soldiers and citizens,

it would not be possible for the soldiers to obtain a fair trial in

Massachusetts. Less than four years had elapsed since Preston's men had

been so readily acquitted of murder after the shooting in King Street,

but such facts were of no avail now. The momentous bill passed in the

House of Commons by a vote of more than four to one, in spite of Colonel

Barré's ominous warnings.

By the fourth act all legal obstacles to the quartering of troops in

Boston or any other town in Massachusetts were swept away.

[Sidenote: The Quebec Act]

By the fifth act, known as the Quebec Act, the free exercise of the

Catholic religion was sanctioned throughout Canada,--a very judicious

measure of religious toleration, which concerned the other colonies but

little, however it might in some cases offend their prejudices. But this

act went on to extend the boundaries of Canada southward to the Ohio

river, in defiance of the territorial claims of Massachusetts,

Connecticut, New York, and Virginia. This extensive region, the part of

North America which was next to be colonized by men of English race, was

to be governed by a viceroy, with despotic powers; and such people as

should come to live there were to have neither popular meetings, nor

_habeas corpus_, nor freedom of the press. "This," said Lord Thurlow,

"is the only sort of constitution fit for a colony,"--and all the

American colonies, he significantly added, had better be reduced to this

condition as soon as possible.

[Sidenote: Gage sent to Boston]

When all these acts had been passed, in April, 1774, General Gage was

commissioned to supersede Hutchinson temporarily as governor of

Massachusetts, and was sent over with as little delay as possible,

together with the four regiments which were to scare the people into

submission. On the first day of June, he was to close the port of Boston

and begin starving the town into good behaviour; he was to arrest the

leading patriots and send them to England for trial; and he was

expressly authorized to use his own discretion as to allowing the

soldiers to fire upon the people. All these measures for enslaving

peaceful and law-abiding Englishmen the king of England now

contemplated, as he himself declared, "with supreme satisfaction."

In recounting such measures as these, the historian is tempted to pause

for a moment, and ask whether it could really have been an _English_

government that planned and decreed such things. From the autocratic

mouth of an Artaxerxes or an Abderrahman one would naturally expect such

edicts to issue. From the misguided cabinets of Spain and France, in

evil times, measures in spirit like these had been known to proceed. But

our dear mother-country had for ages stood before the world as the

staunch defender of personal liberty and of local self-government; and

through the mighty strength which this spirit of freedom, and nothing

else, had given her, she had won the high privilege of spreading her

noble and beneficent political ideas over the best part of the habitable

globe. Yet in the five acts of this political tragedy of 1774 we find

England arrayed in hostility to every principle of public justice which

Englishmen had from time immemorial held sacred. Upon the great

continent which she had so lately won from the French champions of

despotism, we see her vainly seeking to establish a tyrannical _régime_

no better than that which but yesterday it had been her glory to

overthrow. Such was the strange, the humiliating, the self-contradictory

attitude into which England had at length been brought by the selfish

Tory policy of George III.!

But this policy was no less futile than it was unworthy of the noble,

freedom-loving English people. For after that fated 1st of June, the

sovereign authority of Great Britain, whether exerted through king or

through Parliament, was never more to be recognized by the men of

Massachusetts.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] In his account of the American Revolution, Mr. Lecky inclines to

the Tory side, but he is eminently fair and candid.