immediate withdrawal of all troops from Boston was required. The
wretched Hutchinson tried to temporize: he denied that he had power to
move the soldiers; then he consented to send one regiment away, letting
the other remain; the people would accept no compromise; Dalrymple said
that he would do as the governor directed. Samuel Adams and Hutchinson
finally faced each other in Faneuil Hall. "If you have power to remove
one regiment, you have power to remove both," said Adams, in a low but
distinct voice, pointing his finger at the other. "Here are three
thousand people: they are becoming very impatient: the country is in
general motion: night is approaching: an immediate answer is expected:
it is at your peril if you refuse." And describing the scene afterward,
Adams said, "at the appearance of the determined citizens, peremptorily
demanding redress of grievances, I saw his knees tremble and his face
grow pale: and I enjoyed the sight!" Truly, it was a subject for a
great artist to immortalize. The troops must go: and they went, choking
with humiliation.
The news of this affair in England shocked the more reasonable people,
and led to criticism of the ministers; but Lord North, supported by the
king, would not consent to remove the tax on tea. He made it "a test of
authority," and a punishment for "American insolence." It was an
expensive punishment for England; the cost of keeping an army in the
colonies, and other incidental expenses, footed up about half a million
dollars, against a revenue from duties of four hundred dollars only.
Americans got their tea from the Dutch by smuggling and by corrupt
connivance of the English customs officers; and the loss of the English
East India Company was estimated at two and a half million dollars at
least. There was great uneasiness at this absurd showing; and Burke
declared that "the idea of a military establishment in America is all
wrong." Lord Chatham, reading the letters from Boston patriots, and
resolutions of assemblies, remarked, "These worthy New Englanders ever
feel as Old Englanders ought to feel." The colonists, however, zealous
as they were for their liberties, were ready to meet half way any
effort toward conciliation on England's part. The agreement to accept
no British imports was but slackly kept, in spite of protests from
South Carolina and elsewhere. The people were wearied of strife and
would have welcomed any honorable means of peace. In this juncture, two
things only kept alive the spirit of independence; neither would have
sufficed apart from the other. The first was the pig-headedness of the
English government, with the king at the head of it, and men like
Thurlow, an irreconcilable foe to America, assisting; together with the
conspiracy against the colonies of the royal governors and officials,
who sent home false and exaggerated reports, all aiming to show that
martial law was the only thing that could insure order--or, in other
words, secure them their salaries and perquisites. These persons, by
continually irritating the raw place, prevented the colonists from
forgetting their injuries. In South Carolina, Governor Tryon, a
bloody-minded Irishman, went further; he took the field against the
"Regulators"--a body of citizens who had organized to counteract the
lawlessness of the internal conduct of the colony--and after a skirmish
took a number of them prisoners and hanged them out of hand; most of
the rest, to save their lives, took to the woods and, journeying
westward, came upon the lovely vales of Tennessee, which was thus
settled. Daniel Boone had already made himself at home in Kentucky. In
Virginia, where the people were disposed to loyalty, the agitation to
do away with slavery, both on practical and moral grounds, was harshly
opposed by England, and the other colonies, sympathizing with her
action, were snubbed along with her. In short, the pompous and
hide-bound Hillsborough followed everywhere the policy of alienation,
under the impression that he was maintaining English dignity.
But all this would not have sufficed to keep the colonies on their
course toward independence, had it not been for the ceaseless vigilance
and foresight of Samuel Adams in Boston, Benjamin Franklin in London,
and the small but eminent band of patriots whom they worked with.
Adams, profoundly meditating on the signs of the times and the
qualities of human nature, perceived that England would continue to
oppress, and that the longer the colonies abstained from open
resistance, the more difficult would the inevitable revolt become. He
did not hesitate, therefore, to speak in ever plainer and bolder terms
as the peril augmented. Reason was on his side, and his command of
logic and of terse and telling language enabled him to set his cause in
the most effective light. By drawing a distinction between the king and
his ministers, he opened the way to arraign the latter for their
"wickedness" in sending an "impudent mandate" to one assembly to
rescind the lawful resolution of another. The too eager Hutchinson fell
into the trap, and pointed out that it was the king, rather than the
ministry, who must be charged with impudence. But this was not to
disprove the impudence; it was simply to make the king instead of the
ministry obnoxious to the charge, and to enlighten the people as to who
their real enemy was. "The king," said Adams, "has placed us in a
position where we must either pay no tax at all, or pay it in
accordance with his good pleasure"--against the charter and the
constitution. "The liberties of our country," he went on, "are worth
defending at all hazards. Every step has been taken but one: and the
last appeal requires prudence, fortitude and unanimity. America must
herself, under God, work out her own salvation." He set resolutely to
work to put into execution his plan of a committee of correspondence,
to elicit and stimulate the patriotic views of the various colonies.
"The people must instruct their representatives to send a remonstrance
to the king, and assure him, unless their liberties are immediately
restored whole and entire, they will form an independent commonwealth,
and offer a free trade to all nations."--"It is more than time," Adams
wrote to Warren, "to be rid of both tyrants and tyranny." He prepared a
statement of rights, among which was the right to change allegiance in
case oppression became intolerable, and to rescue and preserve their
liberties sword in hand. A detailed statement of grievances was also
drawn up, to be submitted to the king; its specifications were no doubt
familiar to Jefferson, when he wrote the "Declaration" four years
later. This document was circulated throughout the colony, and was
indorsed with unexpected enthusiasm by scores of towns; many of them,
with rustic bluntness, telling their thoughts in language even stronger
than that of their model. The fishermen of Marblehead (of whom history
says not much, but whatever is said, is memorable) affirmed that they
were "incensed at the unconstitutional, unrighteous proceedings of the
ministers, detested the name of Hillsborough, and were ready to unite
for the recovery of their violated rights." In Plymouth, "ninety to one
were for fighting Great Britain." The village of Pembroke, inhabited by
descendants of the Pilgrims, said that the oppressions which existed
must and would issue in the total dissolution of the union between the
mother country and the colonies. "Death is more eligible than slavery,"
said Marlborough; and Lenox refused to "crouch, Issachar-like between
the two burdens of poverty and slavery." There was no doubt about the
sentiment of the country; and the hands of Adams and his colleagues
were immensely strengthened by the revelation.
In the spring of 1773 the next step was taken by Virginia. Young Dabney
Carr rose in the assembly and moved a system of correspondence between
all the colonies similar to that which had been established in
Massachusetts. In other words, the intercommunication of councils in
all the colonies was organized, and when these councils should meet,
the Continental Congress would exist. The response was earnest and
cordial from Georgia to Maine. Things were rapidly shaping themselves
for the end. If anything more were needed to consolidate England's
offspring against her, it was not wanting. Hutchinson, the veteran
plotter and self-seeker, who never did a generous or magnanimous act,
who stabbed men in the back, and who valued money more than country or
honor, was exposed to the contempt of all men both in America and
England, and was forced to resign his governorship in disgrace and to
fly to England, where he died a few years later. Franklin was the
immediate means of his downfall. A member of Parliament had remarked to
him in conversation that the alleged grievances of which the colonists
complained had not been inflicted by any English initiative, but were
the result of solicitation from the most respectable of the colonists
themselves, who had affirmed these measures to be essential to the
welfare of the country. Franklin lifted his eyebrows; upon which his
interlocutor produced a number of Hutchinson's secret letters to
Hillsborough. They proved a conspiracy, on the part of Hutchinson,
Oliver and others, to crush American liberty and introduce military
rule: they were treasonable in the worst sense. Franklin remarked,
after reading them, that his resentment against England's arbitrary
conduct was much abated; since it was now evident that the oppression
had been suggested and urged by Americans whom England must have
supposed represented the better class of the colonists. He sent the
letters to Boston; and "as to the writers," he wrote, "when I find them
bartering away the liberties of their native country for posts,
negotiating for salaries and pensions extorted from the people, and,
conscious of the odium these might be attended with, calling for troops
to protect and secure them in the enjoyment of them;--when I see them
exciting jealousies in the crown, and provoking it to wrath against so
great a part of its most faithful subjects; creating enmities between
the different countries of which the empire consists; occasioning a
great expense to the old country for suppressing or preventing
imaginary rebellions in the new, and to the new country for the payment
of needless gratifications to useless officers and enemies--I cannot
but doubt their sincerity even in the political principles they
profess, and deem them mere time-servers, seeking their own private
emoluments through any quantity of public mischief; betrayers of the
interest not of their native country only, but of the government they
pretend to serve, and of the whole English empire."
The letters were read in the assembly in secret session. But in the
meanwhile Hutchinson had been led into another mistake. He had denied,
in his speech to the legislature, that any line could be drawn between
the supreme authority of Parliament and the total independence of the
colonies. Either yield, then (he said), or convince me of error. The
terrible Adams asked nothing better. Accepting Hutchinson's
alternative, he answered, "If there be no such line between
Parliament's supreme authority and our total independence, then are we
either vassals of Parliament or independent. But since the parties to
the compact cannot have intended that one of them should be vassals, it
follows that our independence was intended. If, as you contend, two
independent legislatures cannot coexist in one and the same state, then
have our charters made us distinct states from England."--Thus had the
governor unwittingly pointed his opponent's spear, and, instead of
driving him to attack Parliament, been placed in the position of
implicitly questioning its authority himself.
But this was nothing compared with the revelation of his treacherous
letters. His first instinct, of course, was falsehood. "I never wrote
any letter tending to subvert the constitution," he asseverated. Being
confronted with his own sign-manual, "Their design," he cried, "is not
to subvert but to protect." But he knew he was ruined, and sent word to
his correspondents in England to burn the letters they held. The
letters were published, and distributed all over the colonies. Not a
man or woman in the country but knew Hutchinson for the dastardly
traitor he was. A petition to remove him and Oliver was sent to the
king, but he hastened to submit his resignation, with a whining
entreaty that he be not "left destitute, to be insulted and triumphed
over." And bringing false charges against Franklin, he begged to
receive the latter's office of deputy postmaster-general.
Before this matter could be settled, affairs in Boston had come to a
crisis. The East India Company had large consignments of tea ready for
shipment to the principal towns along the American coast. The latter
warned them of loss, but Lord North said "The king means to try this
question with America." It was seen that the connection between England
and her colonies could be continued only on a basis of equal liberties,
and "Resist all shipments of tea!" was the word. New York and
Philadelphia settled the matter by commanding all consignees to resign,
which they did; but this was not to be the solution in Boston. When, on
November 28th, the "Dartmouth," Captain Rotch, arrived with one hundred
and fourteen cases of tea, the representatives of the people ordered
him not to enter till Tuesday, the 30th. Four weeks before a meeting at
Liberty Tree had been summoned, and the consignees directed to attend
and resign. The meeting was held, but Clarke and the other consignees
had refused to recognize its authority. They now temporized, and were
granted a day to consider; meanwhile a guard was kept on the ship. The
next day the consignees proposed to suspend action until they could
write to the exporters for advice; but this was seen to be a subterfuge
and was indignantly refused. Rotch agreed to take the tea back; but the
custom house refused him a clearance. For if the ship remained in port,
with her cargo undischarged, twenty days, the authorities could seize
and land it by law. If then the people were to prevail, they must do so
within that time. It seemed as if they must be defeated; for if the
consignees would not resign, and the ship could not get a clearance,
nothing but a direct violation of the law could prevent the tea from
being landed. To make assurance surer, two frigates kept guard at the
mouth of the harbor, and the guns of the Castle were loaded. The
governor and the officers were already chuckling over their anticipated
victory.
Adams and the committee of correspondence met, in secret session, and
what they determined never has transpired and can be surmised by
inference only. On Thursday, December 16th, a great meeting was called
in the Old South Church. Thousands of people from surrounding towns
were in attendance; the willingness and eagerness of them all to resist
at the cost of their lives and fortunes had been abundantly expressed.
Had there been an armed force with which they could have fought, the
way would have been easy; but there was nothing palpable here: only
that intangible Law, which they had never yet broken, and their uniform
loyalty to which, in their disputes with England, had given them
strength and advantage. Must they defy it now, in the cause of liberty,
and engage in a scuffle with the king's officers, in which the latter
would be technically at least in the right? No doubt they might
prevail: but would not the moral defeat counterbalance the gain?
"Throw it overboard!" Young had exclaimed, at a meeting two weeks
before. The suggestion had seemed to pass unheeded; but this was a
crisis when every proposition must be considered. Josiah Quincy and
other speakers set clearly before the multitude the dilemma in which
they stood. Rotch had been dispatched to Milton, where the governor had
taken refuge, to ask for a pass out of the harbor, this being the last
resort after the refusal of clearance papers. The short winter day drew
to a close; darkness fell, and the church, filled with that great
throng of resolute New Englanders, was lighted only by a few wax
candles, whose dim flare flickered on the stern and anxious
countenances that packed the pews and crowded the aisles, and upon
Adams, Young, Quincy, Hancock, and the other leaders, grouped round the
pulpit. They were in the house of God: would He provide help for His
people? A few hours more, and the cargo in yonder ship would lapse into
the hands of the British admiral. The meeting had given its final,
unanimous vote that the cargo never should be landed; but what measures
were to be taken to prevent it, was known to but few.
It was near six when a commotion at the door resolved itself into the
ushering-in of Rotch, panting from his ten-mile ride in the frosty air;
he made his way up the aisle, and delivered his report: the governor
had refused the pass. No other reply had been looked for; but at the
news a silence fell upon the grim assembly, which felt that it was now
face to face with the sinister power of the king. Then of a sudden,
loud shouts came from the lower part of the church, near the open door;
and even as Adams rose to his feet and throwing up his arm, called out,
"This meeting can do nothing more to save the country"--there was heard
from without the shrill, reduplicating yell of the Indian war whoop;
and dusky figures were seen to pass, their faces grisly with streaks of
black and red, feathers tossing in their hair, and blankets gathered
round their shoulders; each, as he passed through the dim light-ray,
swung his hatchet, uttered his war-cry, and was swallowed up in
darkness again. Out poured the multitude from the church, startled,
excited, mystified, obscurely feeling that some decisive act was about
to be done: and here are Adams and Hancock among them, cheering on that
strange procession which passed down toward the wharfs swiftly, two by
two, and seeming to increase in numbers as they passed. After them
streamed the people, murmuring and questioning, through the winter
gloom of the narrow street, until the high-shouldered houses fell away,
and there were the wide reaches of the harbor, with the ships lying at
Griffin's Wharf amid the cakes of ice that swung up and down with the
movement of the tide. As they came there, a strange silence fell upon
all, amid which the Indians--were they Indians?--swung themselves
lightly aboard the vessels, and went swiftly and silently to work. Up
from the hold came case after case of tea, which were seized and broken
open by the hatchets, the sound of their breaking being clearly audible
in the tense stillness; and the black contents were showered into the
waters. Minute after minute, hour after hour went by, and still the
wild figures worked, and still the multitude looked on, forgetful of
the cold, their hearts beating higher and fuller with exultation as
they saw the hated cargo disappear. It was all but ten of the clock
before the last hatchet-stroke that smote the king's fetters from
Massachusetts had been delivered; and then the feathered and painted
figures leaped ashore, drawing their blankets round their faces, and
melted silently into the crowd, and were lost, never again to reappear.
Who were they?--Never was secret better kept; after six score years we
know as little as did King George's officers on that night. They seemed
to have sprung into existence solely to do that one bold deed, and then
to vanish like a dream. But the deed was no dream; nor its sequel. No
blood was shed on the night of the 16th of December, 1773: but
Massachusetts, and through her the other colonies, then and there gave
notice to King George that he had passed the limits which they had
appointed for his tyranny; and the next argument must be held at the
musket's mouth.
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH
THE SHOT HEARD ROUND THE WORLD
Franklin was sixty-seven years of age at this time; no man was then
alive more worthy than he of honor and veneration. For twenty years he
had guarded the interests of America in England; and while he had been
unswerving in his wise solicitude for the colonies, he had ever been
heedful to avoid all needless offense to England. The best men there
were the men who held Franklin in highest esteem as a politician, a
philosopher, and a man; and in France he was regarded as a superior
being. No other man could have filled his place as agent of the
colonies: no other had his sagacity, his experience, his wisdom, his
address. He was not of that class of diplomatists who surround every
subject they handle with a tissue of illusion or falsehood; Franklin
was always honest and undisguised in his transactions; so that what was
long afterward said of a lesser man was true of him: "Whatever record
spring to light, he never will be shamed." No service rendered by him
to his country was more useful than the exposure of Hutchinson; none
was more incumbent on him, as protector of colonial affairs. But in the
rage which possessed the English ministry upon learning how
Massachusetts had parried the attack made upon her liberties, some
immediate victim was indispensable; and as Franklin was there present,
they fell upon him. A fluent and foul-mouthed young barrister,
Alexander Wedderburn by name, had by corrupt influence secured the post
of solicitor-general; and he made use of the occasion of Franklin's
submitting the petition for the removal of Hutchinson and Oliver, to
make a personal attack upon him, which was half falsehood and half
ribaldry. He pretended that the Hutchinson letters had been
dishonorably acquired, and that their publication was an outrage on
private ownership. Incidentally, he painted Hutchinson as a true
patriot and savior of his country; and called Franklin an incendiary, a
traitor, a hypocrite, who should find a fitting termination of his
career on the gallows. This billingsgate was heaped upon him before an
unusually full meeting of the lords of the privy council, the highest
court of appeal; and they laughed and cheered, while the venerable
envoy of the colonies stood "conspicuously erect," facing them with a
steady countenance. Such, and of such temper, were the aristocratic
rulers of England and of America (if she would be ruled) at this epoch.
America's friends in England were still stanch; but the ministry found
no difficulty in giving events a color which irritated the English
people at large against the colonies, and against Boston in particular;
and they had little trouble in securing the passage of the Boston Port
Bill, the effect of which was to close the largest and busiest port in
the colonies against all commerce whatsoever. Fuller said that it could
not be put in execution but by a military force; to which Lord North
answered, "I shall not hesitate to enforce a due obedience to the laws
of this country." Another added, "You will never meet with proper
obedience until you have destroyed that nest of locusts." Lord George
Germain, speaking of revoking the Massachusetts charter, said, "Whoever
wishes to preserve such charters, I wish him no worse than to govern
such subjects." The act passed both houses without a division, and Gage
was appointed military governor, in place of Hutchinson, who was
recalled; and four regiments were quartered in Boston. The wharfs were
empty and deserted; the streets were dull, the shops were closed; but
the British Coffee House in King Street was gay once more; and King
George in London, felt that he was having his revenge, though he was
paying a round price for it. But Boston, having shown that she could do
without tea, and without commerce, was now about to show that she could
also do without George.