SECOND MISSION TO ENGLAND, II
In order to continue the narrative of events with due regard to
chronological order it is necessary to revert to the repeal of the Stamp
Act. The repealing act was fully as unpopular in England as the repealed
act had been in America. It was brought about by no sense of justice, by
no good will toward the colonists, but solely by reason of the injury
which the law was causing in England, and which was forced upon the
reluctant consideration of Parliament by the urgent clamor of the
suffering merchants; also perhaps in some degree by a disinclination to
send an army across the Atlantic, and by the awkward difficulty
suggested by Franklin when he said that if troops should be sent they
would find no rebellion, no definite form of resistance, against which
they could act. The repeal, therefore, though carried by a large
majority, was by no means to be construed as an acknowledgment of error
in an asserted principle, but only as an unavoidable admission of a
mistake in the application of that principle. The repealing majority
grew out of a strange coalition of men of the most opposite ways of
thinking concerning the fundamental question. For example, Charles
Townshend was a repealer, yet all England did not hold a man who was
more wedded than was Townshend to the idea of levying internal taxes in
the colonies by act of Parliament. The notion had been his own
mischievous legacy to Grenville, but he now felt that it had been
clumsily used by his legatee. Many men agreed with him, and the
prevalence of this opinion was made obvious by the passage, almost
simultaneously, of the resolution declaratory of the right of
parliamentary taxation. But the solace of an empty assertion was wholly
inadequate to heal the deep wound which English pride had received. The
great nation had been fairly hounded into receding before the angry
resistance of a parcel of provincials dwelling far away across the sea;
the recession was not felt to be an act of magnanimity or generosity or
even of justice, but only a bitter humiliation and indignity. Poor
Grenville, the responsible adviser of the blundering and unfortunate
measure, lost almost as much prestige as Franklin gained. It was hard
luck for him; he was as honest in his convictions as Franklin was in the
opposite faith, and he was a far abler minister than the successor
charged to undo his work. But his knowledge of colonial facts was very
insufficient, and the light in which he viewed them was hopelessly
false. Franklin had a knowledge immeasurably greater, and was almost
incapable of an error of judgment; of all the reputation which was won
or lost in this famous contest he gathered the lion's share; he was the
hero of the colonists; his ability was recognized impartially by both
the contending parties in England, and he was marked as a great man by
those astute French statesmen who were watching with delight the opening
of this very promising rift in the British Empire.
Anger, like water, subsides quickly after the tempest ceases. As each
day in its flight carried the Stamp Act and the repeal more remotely
into past history, the sanguine and peaceably minded began to hope that
England and the colonies might yet live comfortably in union. It only
seemed necessary that for a short time longer no fresh provocation
should revive animosities which seemed composing themselves to slumber.
The colonists tried to believe that England had learned wisdom;
Englishmen were cautious about committing a second blunder. In such a
time Franklin was the best man whom his countrymen could have had in
England. His tranquil temperament, his warm regard for both sides, his
wonderful capacity for living well with men who could by no means live
well with each other, his social tact, and the respect which his
abilities inspired, all combined to enable him now more than ever to
fill admirably the position of colonial representative. The effect of
such an influence is not to be seen in any single noteworthy occurrence,
but is known by a thousand lesser indications, and it is unquestionable
that no American representative even to this day has ever been held in
Europe in such estimation as was accorded to Franklin at this time. He
continued writing and instructing upon American topics, but to what has
already been said concerning his services and opinions abroad, there is
nothing of importance to be added occurring within two or three years
after the repeal. While, however, he played the often thankless part of
instructor to the English, he had the courage to assume the even less
popular rôle of a moderator towards the colonists. He made it his task
to soothe passion and to preach reason. He did not do this as a trimmer;
never was one word of compromise uttered by him throughout all these
alarming years. But he dreaded that weakness which is the inevitable
reaction from excess; and he was supremely anxious to secure that
trustworthy strength which is impossible without moderation. What he
profoundly wished was that the "fatal period" of war and separation
should be as much as possible "postponed, and that whenever this
catastrophe shall happen it may appear to all mankind that the fault has
not been ours." Yet he fell far short of the Christian principle of
turning to the smiter the other cheek. He wished the colonists to keep a
steady front face, and only besought them not to rush forward so
foolishly fast as to topple over, of which ill-considered violence there
was much danger. Of course the usual result of such efforts overtook
him. He wrote somewhat sadly, in 1768: "Being born and bred in one of
the countries, and having lived long and made many agreeable connections
of friendship in the other, I wish all prosperity to both; but I have
talked and written so much and so long on the subject, that my
acquaintance are weary of hearing and the public of reading any more of
it, which begins to make me weary of talking and writing; especially as
I do not find that I have gained any point in either country, except
that of rendering myself suspected by my impartiality;--in England of
being too much an American, and in America of being too much an
Englishman." More than once he repeated this last sentence with much
feeling. But whatever there was of personal discouragement or
despondency in this letter was only a temporary frame of mind. Dr.
Franklin never really slackened his labors in a business which he had so
much at heart as this of the relationship of the colonies to the mother
country. Neither, it is safe to say, did he ever bore any one by what he
wrote or by what he said, though his witty effusions in print were
usually anonymous, and only some of his soberer and argumentative papers
announced their paternity.
The agony with which the repeal of the Stamp Act was effected racked too
severely the feeble joints of the Rockingham ministry, and that ill-knit
body soon began to drop to pieces. A new incumbent was sought for the
department which included the colonies, but that position seemed to be
shunned with a sort of terror; no one loved office enough to seek it in
this niche; no one could expect comfort in a chamber haunted by such
restless ghosts. Early in July, at the earnest solicitation of the king,
Pitt endeavored not so much to form a new ministry as to revamp the
existing one. He partially succeeded, but not without difficulty. The
result seemed to promise well for the colonies, since the new cabinet
contained their chief friends: Pitt himself, Shelburne, Camden, Conway,
names all justly esteemed by America. Yet all these were fully offset by
the audacious Charles Townshend, the originator and great apostle of the
scheme of colonial taxation, whom Pitt, much against his will, had been
obliged to place in the perilous post of chancellor of the exchequer. It
was true that Lord Shelburne undertook the care of the colonies, and
that no Englishman cherished better dispositions towards them; but he
had to encounter two difficulties, neither of which could be overcome.
The one was that Townshend's views were those which soon proved not only
to be coincident with those of the king, but also to be popular in
Parliament; the other was that, while he had the administration of
colonial affairs, Townshend had the function of introducing schemes of
taxation. So long as he remained in office he administered all the
business of the colonies in the spirit of liberal reform. No reproach
was ever brought against his justice, his generosity, his enlightened
views of government. But unfortunately all that he had to do, being
strictly in the way of _administration_, such as the restraining
over-loyal governors, the amelioration of harsh legislation, and
universal moderation in language and behavior, could avail comparatively
little so long as Townshend, whom Pitt used to call "the incurable,"
could threaten and bring in obnoxious revenue measures.
Shelburne had the backing of Pitt; but, by ill luck, so soon as the
cabinet was formed, Pitt ceased to be Pitt, and became the Earl of
Chatham; and with the loss of his own name he lost also more than half
of his power. Moreover the increasing infirmities of his body robbed him
of efficiency and impaired his judgment. He was utterly unable to keep
in subordination his reckless chancellor of the exchequer, betwixt whom
and himself no good will had ever existed. On the other hand, this
irrepressible Townshend had a far better ally in George III., who
sympathized in his purposes, gave him assistance which was none the less
powerful for being indirect and occult, and who hated and ingeniously
thwarted Shelburne. Moreover, as has been said, it was a popular
delusion that Townshend had exceptionally full and accurate knowledge
concerning American affairs. His self-confident air, making assurance of
success, won for him one half of the battle by so sure a presage of
victory. He lured the members of the House by showing them a
considerable remission in their own taxes, provided they would stand by
his scheme of replacing the deficit by an income from the colonies; and
he boldly assured his delighted auditors that he knew "the mode by which
a revenue could be drawn from America without offense." He was of the
thoughtless class which learns no lesson. He still avowed himself "a
firm advocate of the Stamp Act," and with cheerful scorn he "laughed at
the absurd distinction between internal and external taxes." He did not
expect, he merrily said, alluding to the distinction just conferred upon
Chatham, to have _his_ statue erected in America. The reports of his
speeches kept the colonial mind disquieted. The act requiring the
provinces in which regiments were quartered to provide barracks and
rations for the troops at the public expense was a further irritation.
Shelburne sought to make the burden as easy as possible, but Townshend
made Shelburne's duties as hard as possible. Of what use were the
minister's liberality and moderation, when the chancellor of the
exchequer evoked alarm and wrath by announcing insolently that he was
for governing the Americans as subjects of Great Britain, and for
restraining their trade and manufactures in subordination to those of
the mother country! So the struggle went on within the ministry as well
as without it; but the opponents of royal prejudice were heavily
handicapped; for the king, though stupid in general, had some political
skill and much authority. His ill-concealed personal hostility to his
"enemy," as he called Shelburne, threatened like the little cloud in
the colonial horizon. Nor was it long before Chatham, a dispirited
wreck, withdrew himself entirely from all active participation in
affairs, shut himself up at Hayes, and refused to be seen by any one who
wished to talk on business.
On May 13, 1767, colonial agents and merchants trading to America were
refused admission to hear the debates in the House of Commons. Upon that
day Townshend was to develop his scheme. By way, as it were, of striking
a keynote, he proposed that the province of New York should be
restrained from enacting any legislation until it should comply with the
"billeting act," against which it had heretofore been recalcitrant. He
then sketched a scheme for an American board of commissioners of
customs. Finally he came to the welcome point of the precise taxes which
he designed to levy: he proposed duties on wine, oil, and fruits,
imported directly into the colonies from Spain and Portugal; also on
glass, paper, lead, colors, and china, and three pence per pound on tea.
The governors and chief justices, most of whom were already appointed by
the king, but who got their pay by vote of the colonial assemblies, were
hereafter to have fixed salaries, to be paid by the king from this
American revenue. Two days later the resolutions were passed, directing
the introduction of bills to carry out these several propositions, and a
month later the bills themselves were passed.
Meantime the cabinet was again getting very rickety, and many heads were
busy with suggestions for patching it in one part or another. With
Chatham in retreat and the king in the ascendant, it seemed that
Townshend had the surest seat. But there is one risk against which even
monarchs cannot insure their favorites, and that risk now fell out
against Townshend. He died suddenly of a fever, in September, 1767. Lord
North succeeded him, destined to do everything which his royal master
desired him to do, and bitterly to repent it. A little later, in
December, the king scored another success; Shelburne was superseded in
the charge of the colonies by the Earl of Hillsborough, who reëntered
the board of trade as first commissioner, and came into the cabinet with
the new title of secretary of state for the colonies.
Hillsborough was an Irish peer, with some little capacity for business,
but of no more than moderate general ability. He also was supposed,
altogether erroneously, to possess a little more knowledge, or, as it
might have been better expressed, to be shackled with a little less
ignorance, concerning colonial affairs than could be predicated of most
of the noblemen who were eligible for public office. America had
acquired so much importance that the reputation of familiarity with its
condition was an excellent recommendation for preferment. Franklin wrote
that this change in the ministry was "very sudden and unexpected;" and
that "whether my Lord Hillsborough's administration will be more stable
than others have been for a long time, is quite uncertain; but as his
inclinations are rather favorable towards us (so far as he thinks
consistent with what he supposes the unquestionable rights of Britain),
I cannot but wish it may continue."
It was Franklin's temperament to be hopeful, and he also purposely
cultivated the wise habit of not courting ill fortune by anticipating
it. In this especial instance, however, he soon found that his
hopefulness was misplaced. Within six months he discovered that this new
secretary looked upon the provincial agents "with an evil eye, as
obstructors of ministerial measures," and would be well pleased to get
rid of them as "unnecessary" impediments in the transaction of business.
"In truth," he adds, "the nominations, particularly of Dr. Lee and
myself, have not been at all agreeable to his lordship." It soon
appeared that his lordship had the Irish quickness for taking a keen
point of law; he broached the theory that no agent could lawfully be
appointed by the mere resolution of an assembly, but that the
appointment must be made by bill. The value of this theory is obvious
when we reflect that a bill did not become law, and consequently an
appointment could not be completed, save by the signature of the
provincial governor. "This doctrine, if he could establish it," said
Franklin, "would in a manner give to his lordship the power of
appointing, or, at least, negativing any choice of the House of
Representatives and Council, since it would be easy for him to instruct
the governor not to assent to the appointment of such and such men, who
are obnoxious to him; so that if the appointment is annual, every agent
that valued his post must consider himself as holding it by the favor of
his lordship;" whereof the consequences were easy to be seen.
There was a lively brush between the noble secretary and Franklin, when
the former first propounded this troublesome view. It was in January,
1771, that Franklin called upon his lordship--
"to pay my respects ... and to acquaint him with my appointment by
the House of Representatives of Massachusetts Bay to be their agent
here." But his lordship interrupted:--
"I must set you right there, Mr. Franklin; you are not agent.
"Why, my lord?
"You are not appointed.
"I do not understand your lordship; I have the appointment in my
pocket.
"You are mistaken; I have later and better advices. I have a letter
from Governor Hutchinson; he would not give his assent to the bill.
"There was no bill, my lord; it was a vote of the House.
"There was a bill presented to the governor for the purpose of
appointing you and another, one Dr. Lee I think he is called, to
which the governor refused his assent.
"I cannot understand this, my lord; I think there must be some
mistake in it. Is your lordship quite sure that you have such a
letter?
"I will convince you of it directly; Mr. Pownall will come in and
satisfy you."
So Mr. Pownall, invoked by the official bell, appeared upon the scene.
But he could not play his part; he was obliged to say that there was no
such letter. This was awkward; but Franklin was too civil or too prudent
to triumph in the discomfiture of the other. He simply offered the
"authentic copy of the vote of the House" appointing him, and asked if
his lordship would "please to look at it." His lordship took the paper
unwillingly, and then, without looking at it, said:--
"An information of this kind is not properly brought to me as
secretary of state. The board of trade is the proper place.
"I will leave the paper then with Mr. Pownall to be--
"(_Hastily._) To what end would you leave it with him?
"To be entered on the minutes of the board, as usual.
"(_Angrily._) It shall not be entered there. No such paper shall be
entered there while I have anything to do with the business of that
board. The House of Representatives has no right to appoint an
agent. We shall take no notice of any agents but such as are
appointed by acts of Assembly, to which the governor gives his
assent. We have had confusion enough already. Here is one agent
appointed by the Council, another by the House of
Representatives.[27] Which of these is agent for the province? Who
are we to hear in provincial affairs? An agent appointed by act of
Assembly we can understand. No other will be attended to for the
future, I can assure you.
"I cannot conceive, my lord, why the consent of the governor should
be thought necessary to the appointment of an agent for the people.
It seems to me that--
"(_With a mixed look of anger and contempt._) I shall not enter
into a dispute with _you_, Sir, upon this subject.
"I beg your lordship's pardon; I do not mean to dispute with your
lordship. I would only say that it appears to me that every body of
men who cannot appear in person, where business relating to them
may be transacted, should have a right to appear by an agent. The
concurrence of the governor does not seem to be necessary. It is
the business of the people that is to be done; he is not one of
them; he is himself an agent.
"(_Hastily._) Whose agent is he?
"The king's, my lord.
"No such matter. He is one of the corporation by the province
charter. No agent can be appointed but by an act, nor any act pass
without his assent. Besides, this proceeding is directly contrary
to express instructions.
"I did not know there had been such instructions. I am not
concerned in any offense against them, and--
[Note 27: The agent for the Council, Mr. Bollan, acted in entire
accord with Dr. Franklin; there was no inconsistency between the two
offices, which were altogether distinct, neither any clashing between
the incumbents, as might be inferred from Lord Hillsborough's
language.]
"Yes, your offering such a paper to be entered is an offense
against them. No such appointment shall be entered. When I came
into the administration of American affairs I found them in great
disorder. By _my firmness_ they are now something mended; and while
I have the honor to hold the seals I shall continue the same
conduct, the same _firmness_. I think my duty to the master I
serve, and to the government of this nation, requires it of me. If
that conduct is not approved, _they_ may take that office from me
when they please: I shall make them a bow and thank them; I shall
resign with pleasure. That gentleman [Mr. Pownall] knows it; but
while I continue in it I shall resolutely persevere in the same
_firmness_."
Speaking thus, his lordship seemed warm, and grew pale, as if "angry at
something or somebody besides the agent, and of more consequence to
himself." Franklin thereupon, taking back his credentials, said,
speaking with an innuendo aimed at that which had not been expressed,
but which lay plainly visible behind his lordship's pallor and
excitement:--
"I beg your lordship's pardon for taking up so much of your
lordship's time. It is, I believe, of no great importance whether
the appointment is acknowledged or not, for I have not the least
conception that an agent can, _at present_, be of any use to any of
the colonies. I shall therefore give your lordship no further
trouble."
Therewith he made his exit, and went home to write the foregoing sketch
of the scene. Certainly throughout so irritating an interview he had
conducted himself with creditable self-restraint and moderation, yet
with his closing sentence he had sent home a dart which rankled. He soon
heard that his lordship "took great offense" at these last words,
regarding them as "extremely rude and abusive," and as "equivalent to
telling him to his face that the colonies could expect neither favor nor
justice during his administration." "I find," adds Franklin, with placid
satisfaction in the skill with which he had shot his bolt, "I find he
did not mistake me."
So Franklin retained the gratification which lies in having administered
a stinging and appreciated retort; a somewhat empty and entirely
personal gratification, it must be admitted. Hillsborough kept the
substance of victory, inasmuch as he persisted in refusing to recognize
Franklin as the agent of the Massachusetts Bay. Yet in this he did not
annihilate, indeed very slightly curtailed, Franklin's usefulness. It
merely signified that Franklin ceased to be an official conduit for
petitions and like communications. His weight and influence, based upon
his knowledge and prestige, remained unimpugned. In a word, it was of
little consequence that the lord secretary would not acknowledge him as
the representative of one province, so long as all England practically
treated him as the representative of all America.
From this time forth, of course, there was warfare between the secretary
and the unacknowledged agent. Franklin began to entertain a "very mean
opinion" of Hillsborough's "abilities and fitness for his station. His
character is conceit, wrong-headedness, obstinacy, and passion. Those
who speak most favorably of him allow all this; they only add that he is
an honest man and means well. If that be true, as perhaps it may, I only
wish him a better place, where only honesty and well-meaning are
required, and where his other qualities can do no harm.... I hope,
however, that our affairs will not much longer be perplexed and
embarrassed by his perverse and senseless management." But for the
present Franklin was of opinion that it would be well "to leave this
omniscient, infallible minister to his own devices, and be no longer at
the expense of sending any agent, whom he can displace by a repeal of
the appointing act."
Hillsborough's theory was adopted by the board of trade, and Franklin
therefore remained practically stripped of the important agency for
Massachusetts. He anticipated that this course would soon put an end to
all the colonial agencies; but he said that the injury would be quite as
great to the English government as to the colonies, for the agents had
often saved the cabinet from introducing, through misinformation,
"mistaken measures," which it would afterward have found to be "very
inconvenient." He expressed his own opinion that when the colonies "came
to be considered in the light of _distinct states_, as I conceive they
really are, possibly their agents may be treated with more respect and
considered more as public ministers." But this was a day-dream; the
current was setting in quite the opposite direction.
In point of fact, Massachusetts seems to have taken no detriment from
this foolish and captious bit of chicanery. All the papers and arguments
which she had occasion to have presented always found their way to their
destination as well as they would have done if Franklin had been
acknowledged as the quasi public minister, which he conceived to be his
proper character.
Franklin perfectly appreciated that Hillsborough retained his position
by precarious tenure. He shrewdly suspected that if the war with Spain,
which then seemed imminent, were to break out, Hillsborough would at
once be removed. For in that case it would be the policy of the
government to conciliate the colonies, at any cost, for the time being.
This crisis passed by, fortunately for the secretary and unfortunately
for the provinces. Yet still the inefficient and ill-friended minister
remained very infirm in his seat. An excuse only was needed to displace
him, and by a singular and unexpected chance Franklin furnished that
excuse. It was the humble and discredited colonial agent who unwittingly
but not unwillingly gave the jar which toppled the great earl into
retirement. His fall when it came gave general satisfaction. His
unfitness for his position had become too obvious to be denied; he had
given offense in quarters where he should have made friends; he had
irritated the king and provoked the cabinet. Franklin, with his
observant sagacity, quickly divined that George III. was "tired" of
Hillsborough and "of his administration, which had weakened the
affection and respect of the colonies for a royal government;" and
accordingly he "used proper means from time to time that his majesty
should have due information and convincing proofs" of this effect of his
lordship's colonial policy.
It was, however, upon a comparatively trifling matter that Hillsborough
finally lost his place. It has been already mentioned that many years
before this time Franklin had urged the establishment of one or two
frontier, or "barrier," provinces in the interior. He had never
abandoned this scheme, and of late had been pushing it with some
prospect of success; for among other encouraging features he astutely
induced three privy councilors to become financially interested in the
project. The original purpose of the petitioners had been to ask for
only 2,500,000 acres of land; but Hillsborough bade them ask for "enough
to make a province." This advice was grossly disingenuous; for
Hillsborough himself afterward admitted that from the beginning he had
intended to defeat the application, and had put the memorialists "upon
asking so much with that very view, supposing it too much to be
granted." But they, not suspecting, fell into the trap and increased
their demand to 23,000,000 acres, certainly a sufficient quantity to
call for serious consideration. When the petition came before the board
of trade, Lord Hillsborough, who was president of the board, took upon
himself the task of rendering a report. To the surprise of the
petitioners, who had reason to suppose him well inclined, he replied
adversely. The region was so far away, he said, that it would not "lie
within the reach of the trade and commerce of this kingdom;" so far,
also, as not to admit of "the exercise of that authority and
jurisdiction ... necessary for the preservation of the colonies in due
subordination to and dependence upon the mother country." The territory
appeared, "upon the fullest evidence," to be "utterly inaccessible to
shipping," and therefore the inhabitants would "probably be led to
manufacture for themselves, ... a consequence ... to be carefully
guarded against." Also part belonged to the Indians, who ought not to be
disturbed, and settlements therein would of course lead to Indian wars
and to "fighting for every inch of the ground." Further, the occupation
of this tract "must draw and carry out a great number of people from
Great Britain," who would soon become "a kind of separate and
independent people, ... and set up for themselves," meeting their own
wants and taking no "supplies from the mother country nor from the
provinces" along the seaboard. At so great a distance from "the seat of
government, courts, magistrates, etc.," the territory would "become a
receptacle and kind of asylum for offenders," full of crime itself, and
encouraging crime elsewhere. This disorderly population would soon
"become formidable enough to oppose his majesty's authority, disturb
government, and even give law to the other or first-settled part of the
country, and thus throw everything into confusion." Such arguments were
as feeble as they were bodeful. The only point which his lordship really
scored was in reply to Franklin's theory of the protection against the
Indians which these colonies would afford to those on the seaboard.
Hillsborough well said that the new settlements themselves would stand
most in need of protection. It was only advancing, not eliminating, a
hostile frontier.
Evidently it required no very able reasoning, coming from the president
of the board, to persuade his subordinates; and this foolish report was
readily adopted. But Franklin was not so easily beaten; the privy
council furnished one more stage at which he could still make a fight.
He drew up a reply to Lord Hillsborough's paper and submitted it to that
body. It was a long and very carefully prepared document; it dealt in
facts historical and statistical, in which the report was utterly
deficient; it furnished evidence and illustration; in arguing upon
probabilities it went far toward demolishing the theories advanced by
the president of the board. The two briefs were laid before a tribunal
in which three men sat who certainly ought not to have been sitting in
this cause, since Franklin's interest was also their own; but probably
this did not more than counterbalance the prestige of official position
in the opposite scale. Certainly Franklin had followed his invariable
custom of furnishing his friends with ample material to justify them in
befriending him. In this respect he always gallantly stood by his own
side. The allies whom at any time he sought he always abundantly
supplied with plain facts and sound arguments, in which weapons he
always placed his chief trust. So at present, whatever was the motive
which induced privy councilors to open their ears to what Franklin had
to say, after they had heard him they could not easily decide against
him. Nor had those of them who were personally disinterested any great
inducement to do so, since, though some of them may have disliked him,
none of them had any great liking for his noble opponent. So they set
aside the report of the board of trade.[28]
[Note 28: A very interesting statement of these proceedings may be
found in Franklin's _Works_, x. 346.]
Upon this Lord Hillsborough fell into a hot rage, and sent in his
resignation. It was generally understood that he had no notion that it
would be accepted, or that he would be allowed to leave upon such a
grievance. He fancied that he was establishing a dilemma which would
impale Franklin. But he was in error; he himself was impaled. No one
expostulated with him; he was left to exercise "the Christian virtue of
resignation" without hindrance. Franklin said that the anticipation of
precisely this result, so far from being an obstacle in the way of his
own success, had been an additional incitement to the course taken by
the council.
So the earl, the enemy of America, went out; and the colonial agent had
shown him the door, with all England looking on. It was a mortification
which Hillsborough could never forgive, and upon four occasions, when
Franklin made the conventional call to pay his respects, he did not find
his lordship at home. At his fifth call he received from a lackey a very
plain intimation that there was no chance that he ever would find the
ex-secretary at home, and thereafter he desisted from the forms of
civility. "I have never since," he said, "been nigh him, and we have
only abused one another at a distance." Franklin had fully balanced one
account at least.
So far as the special matter in hand was concerned, the worsting of
Hillsborough, though a gratification, did not result in the bettering of
Franklin and his co-petitioners. April 6, 1773, he wrote: "The affair of
the grant goes on but slowly. I do not yet clearly see land. I begin to
be a little of the sailor's mind, when they were landing a cable out of
a store into a ship, and one of 'em said: ''T is a long heavy cable, I
wish we could see the end of it.' 'Damn me,' says another, 'if I believe
it has any end; somebody has cut it off.'" A cable twisted of British
red tape was indeed a coil without an end. In this case, before the
patent was granted, Franklin had become so unpopular, and the Revolution
so imminent, that the matter was dropped by a sort o£ universal consent.
[Illustration: Hillsborough]
Franklin rejoiced in this departure of Hillsborough as a good riddance
of a man whom he thought to be as "double and deceitful" as any one he
had ever met. It is possible that, as he had been instrumental in
creating the vacancy, he may also have assisted in some small degree in
disposing of the succession. One day he was complaining of Hillsborough
to a "friend at court," when the friend replied that Hillsborough was
wont to represent the Americans "as an unquiet people, not easily
satisfied with any ministry; that, however, it was thought too much
occasion had been given them to dislike the present;" and the question
was asked whether, in case of Hillsborough's removal, Franklin "could
name another likely to be more acceptable" to his countrymen. He at once
suggested Lord Dartmouth. This was the appointment which was now made,
in August, 1772, and the news of which gave much satisfaction to all the
"friends of America." For Dartmouth was of kindly disposition, and when
previously president of the board of trade had shown a liberal temper in
provincial affairs.
The relationship between Franklin and Lord Dartmouth opened
auspiciously. Franklin waited upon him at his first levee, at the close
of October, 1772, and was received "very obligingly." Further Franklin
was at once recognized as agent for Massachusetts, with no renewal of
the caviling as to the manner of his appointment, from which he
hopefully augured that "business was getting into a better train." A
month later he reported himself as being still "upon very good terms"
with the new minister, who, he had "reason to think, meant well by the
colonies." So Dartmouth did, undoubtedly, and if the best of intentions
and of feelings could have availed much at this stage of affairs,
Franklin and his lordship might have postponed the Revolution until the
next generation. But it was too late to counteract the divergent
movements of the two nations, and no better proof could be desired of
the degree to which this divergence had arrived than the fact itself
that the moderate Franklin and the well-disposed Dartmouth could not
come into accord. Each people had declared its political faith, its
fundamental theory; and the faith and theory of the one were fully and
fairly adverse to those of the other; and the instant that the talk went
deep enough, this irreconcilable difference was sure to be exposed.
During the winter of 1772-73, following Lord Dartmouth's appointment, a
lively dispute arose in Massachusetts between the Assembly and Governor
Hutchinson. It was the old question, whether the English Parliament had
control in matters of colonial taxation. The governor made speeches and
said Yea, while the Assembly passed resolutions and said Nay. The early
ships, arriving in England in the spring of 1773, brought news of this
dispute, which seemed to have been indeed a hot one. The English
ministry were not pleased; they wanted to keep their relationship with
the colonies tranquil for a while, because there was a renewal of the
danger of a war with Spain. Therefore they were vexed at the over-zeal
of Hutchinson; and Lord Dartmouth frankly said so. Franklin called one
day upon the secretary and found him much perplexed at the
"difficulties" into which the governor had brought the ministers by his
"imprudence." Parliament, his lordship said, could not "suffer such a
declaration of the colonial Assembly, asserting its independence, to
pass unnoticed." Franklin thought otherwise: "It is _words_ only," he
said; "acts of Parliament are still submitted to there;" and so long as
such was the case "Parliament would do well to turn a deaf ear....Force
could do no good." Force, it was replied, might not be thought of, but
rather an act to lay the colonies "under some inconveniences, till they
rescind that declaration." Could they by no possibility be persuaded to
withdraw it? Franklin was clearly of opinion that the resolve could only
be withdrawn after the withdrawal of the speech which it answered, "an
awkward operation, which perhaps the governor would hardly be directed
to perform." As for an act establishing "inconveniences," probably it
would only put the colonies, "as heretofore, on some method of
incommoding this country till the act is repealed; and so we shall go on
injuring and provoking each other instead of cultivating that good will
and harmony so necessary to the general welfare." Divisions, his
lordship admitted, "must weaken the whole; for we are yet _one empire_,
whatever may be the opinions of the Massachusetts Assembly." But how to
escape divisions was the conundrum. Could his lordship withhold from
Parliament the irritating documents, though in fact they were already
notorious, and "hazard the being called to account in some future
session of Parliament for keeping back the communication of dispatches
of such importance?" He appealed to Franklin for advice; but Franklin
would undertake to give none, save that, in his opinion, if the
dispatches should be laid before Parliament, it would be prudent to
order them to lie on the table. For, he said, "were I as much an
Englishman as I am an American, and ever so desirous of establishing the
authority of Parliament, I protest to your lordship I cannot conceive of
a single step the Parliament can take to increase it that will not tend
to diminish it, and after abundance of mischief they must finally lose
it." So whenever the crucial test was applied these two men found
themselves utterly at variance, and the hopelessness of a peaceful
conclusion would have been obvious, had not each shunned a prospect so
painful.
It must be confessed that, if Lord Dartmouth was so pathetically
desirous to undo an irrevocable past, Dr. Franklin was no less anxious
for the performance of a like miracle. Both the statesman and the
philosopher would have appreciated better the uselessness of their
efforts, had their feelings been less deeply engaged. Franklin's vain
wish at this time was to move the peoples of England and America back to
the days before the passage of the Stamp Act. "I have constantly given
it as my opinion," he wrote, early in 1771, "that, if the colonies were
restored to the state they were in before the Stamp Act, they would be
satisfied and contend no farther." Two and a half years later, following
the fable of the sibylline books, he expressed the more extreme opinion
that "the letter of the two houses of the 29th of June, proposing as a
satisfactory measure the restoring things to the state in which they
were at the conclusion of the late war, is a fair and generous offer on
our part, ... and more than Britain has a right to expect from us.... If
she has any wisdom left, she will embrace it, and agree with us
immediately."
But the insuperable trouble was that, at the close of the last war and
before the passage of the Stamp Act, the controversy upon the question
of right had been unborn. Now, having come into being, this controversy
could not be laid at rest by a mere waiver; it was of that nature that
its resurrection would be sure and speedy. Anything else would have
been, of course, the practical victory of the colonies and defeat of
England; and the English could not admit that things had reached this
pass as yet. If England should not renounce her right, the colonies
would always remain uneasy beneath the unretracted assertion of it; if
she should never again seek to exercise it, she would be really
yielding. It was idle to talk of such a state of affairs; it could not
be brought about, even if it were conceivable that each side could be
induced to repeal all its acts and resolves touching the subject,--and
even this preliminary step was what no reasonable man could anticipate.
In a word, when Franklin longed for the restoration of the _status quo
ante_ the Stamp Act, he longed for a chimera. A question had been
raised, which was of that kind that it could not be compromised, or set
aside, or ignored, or forgotten; it must be _settled_ by the recession
or by the defeat of one contestant or the other. Nothing better than a
brief period of restless and suspicious truce could be gained by an
effort to restore the situation of a previous date, even were such
restoration possible, since the intervening period and the memory of its
undetermined dispute concerning a principle could not be annihilated.
Still Franklin persistently refused to despair, so long as peace was
still unbroken. Until blood had been shed, war _might_ be avoided. This
was no lack of foresight; occasionally an expression escaped him which
showed that he fully understood the drift of affairs and saw the final
outcome of the opposing doctrines. In 1769 he said that matters were
daily tending more and more "to a breach and final separation." In 1771
he thought that any one might "clearly see in the system of customs to
be exacted in America by act of Parliament, the seeds sown of a total
disunion of the countries, though as yet that event may be at a
considerable distance." By 1774 he said, in an article written for an
English newspaper, that certain "angry writers" on the English side were
using "their utmost efforts to persuade us that this war with the
colonies (for a war it will be) is a national cause, when in fact it is
a ministerial one." But he very rarely spoke thus. It was at once his
official duty as well as his strong personal wish to find some other
exit from the public embarrassments than by this direful conclusion.
Therefore, so long as war did not exist he refused to admit that it was
inevitable, and he spared no effort to prevent it, leaving to fervid
orators to declare the contrary and to welcome it; nor would he ever
allow himself to be discouraged by any measure of apparent hopelessness.
His great dread was that the colonies might go so fast and so far as to
make matters incurable before thinking people were ready to recognize
such a crisis as unavoidable. He seldom wrote home without some words
counseling moderation. He wanted to see "much patience and the utmost
discretion in our general conduct." It must not, however, be supposed
that such language was used to cover any lukewarmness, or irresolution,
or tendency towards halfway or temporizing measures. On the contrary, he
was wholly and consistently the opposite of all this. His moderation was
not at all akin to the moderation of Dickinson and such men, who were
always wanting to add another to the long procession of petitions and
protests. He only desired that the leading should be done by the wise
men, so as not to have a Braddock's defeat in so grave and perilous an
undertaking. He feared that a mob might make an irrevocable blunder, and
the mischievous rabble create a condition of affairs which the real
statesmen of the provinces could neither mend nor excuse. Certainly his
anxiety was not without cause. He warned his country people that there
was nothing which their enemies in England more wished than that, by
insurrections, they would give a good pretense for establishing a large
military force in the colonies. As between friends, he said, every
affront is not worth a duel, so "between the governed and governing
every mistake in government, every encroachment on right, is not worth a
rebellion." So he thought that an "immediate rupture" was not in
accordance with "general prudence," for by "a premature struggle," the
colonies might "be crippled and kept down another age." No one, however,
was more resolute than he that the mistakes and encroachments which had
occurred should not be repeated. An assurance against such repetition,
he tried to think, might be effected within a reasonably short time by
two peaceful influences. One of these was a cessation of all colonial
purchases of English commodities; the other was the rapid increase of
the visible strength and resources of the colonies. He was urgent and
frequent in reiterating his opinion of the great efficacy of the
non-purchasing agreements. It is a little odd to find him actually
declaring that, if the people would honestly persist in these
engagements, he "should almost wish" the obnoxious act "never to be
repealed;" for, besides industry and frugality, such a condition of
things would promote a variety of domestic manufactures. In a word, this
British oppression would bring about all those advantages for the infant
nation, which, through the medium of the protective tariff, have since
been purchased by Americans at a vast expense. Moreover, the money which
used to be sent to England in payment for superfluous luxuries would be
kept at home, to be there laid out in domestic improvements. Gold and
silver, the scarcity of which caused great inconvenience in the
colonies, would remain in the country. All these advantages would accrue
from a course which at the same time must give rise in England itself to
a pressure so extreme that Parliament could not long resist it. "The
trading part of the nation, with the manufacturers, are become sensible
how necessary it is for their welfare to be on good terms with us. The
petitioners of Middlesex and of London have numbered among their
grievances the _unconstitutional_ taxes on America; and similar
petitions are expected from all quarters. So that I think we need only
be quiet, and persevere in our schemes of frugality and industry, and
the rest will do itself." But it was obvious that, if the measures were
not now persisted in until they should have had their full effect, a
like policy could never again be resorted to; and Franklin gave it as
his belief that, "if we do persist another year, we shall never
afterwards have occasion to use" the remedy.
To him it seemed incredible that the people of America should not
loyally persist in a policy of non-importation of English goods. Not
only was the doing without these a benefit to domestic industries, but
buying them was a direct aid and maintenance to the oppressor. He said:
"If our people will, by consuming such commodities, purchase and pay for
their fetters, who that sees them so shackled will think they deserve
either redress or pity? Methinks that in drinking tea, a true American,
reflecting that by every cup he contributed to the salaries, pensions,
and rewards of the enemies and persecutors of his country, would be half
choked at the thought, and find no quantity of sugar sufficient to make
the nauseous draught go down."[29]
[Note 29: See also letter to Marshall, April 22, 1771, _Works_, x.
315.]
In this connection he was much "diverted" and gratified by the results
of the Stamp Act, and especially of the act laying the duty on tea. The
gross proceeds of the former statute, gathered in the West Indies and
Canada, since substantially nothing was got in the other provinces, was
£1500; while the expenditure had amounted to £12,000! The working of the
Customs Act had been far worse. According to his statement, the
unfortunate East India Company, in January, 1773, had at least
£2,000,000, some said £4,000,000, worth of goods which had accumulated
in their warehouses since the enactment, of which the chief part would,
in the natural condition of business, have been absorbed by the
colonies. The consequence was that the company's shares had fallen
enormously in price, that it was hard pressed to make its payments, that
its credit was so seriously impaired that the Bank of England would not
help it, and that its dividends had been reduced below the point at and
above which it was obliged to pay, and heretofore regularly had paid,
£400,000 annually to the government. Many investors were painfully
straitened, and not a few bankruptcies ensued. Besides the loss of this
annual stipend the treasury was further the sufferer by the great
expense which had been incurred in endeavoring to guard the American
coast against smugglers; with the added vexation that these costly
attempts had, after all, been fruitless. Fifteen hundred miles of shore
line, occupied by people unanimously hostile to the king's revenue
officers, presented a task much beyond the capabilities of the vessels
which England could send thither. So the Dutch, the Danes, the Swedes,
and the French soon established a thriving contraband trade; the
American housewives were hardly interrupted in dispensing the favorite
beverage; the English merchant's heavy loss became the foreign
smuggler's aggravating gain; and the costly sacrifice of the East India
Company fell short of effecting the punishment of the wicked Americans.
Franklin could not "help smiling at these blunders." Englishmen would
soon resent them, he said, would turn out the ministry that was
responsible for them, and put in a very different set of men, who would
undo the mischief. "If we continue firm and united, and resolutely
persist in the non-consumption agreement, this adverse ministry cannot
possibly stand another year. And surely the great body of our people,
the farmers and artificers, will not find it hard to keep an agreement
by which they both save and gain." Thus he continued to write so late as
February, 1775, believing to the last in the efficacy of this policy.