THE CHARTER OF MASSACHUSETTS ANNULLED.
But with the conclusion of the Indian war the troubles of Massachusetts
were not at an end. The merchants of London, jealous of the rising
commercial power of New England, complained of her total disregard of
the laws of trade, and the Navigation Act was attempted to be enforced
with renewed vigour.
In 1677, the controversy which had been so long pending between
Massachusetts and the heirs of Sir Ferdinando Gorges, relative to Maine,
was decided by Massachusetts purchasing their claim through the agency
of a wealthy Boston merchant, from the said heirs, for £1,200; and thus,
spite of Charles II.’s wish to obtain it as an appanage for the Duke of
Monmouth, Maine became a province of the State of Massachusetts. The
extent of the province, however, was not equal to that which constitutes
the present State of Maine. France occupied the district from St. Croix
to the Penobscot, and New York that between the Penobscot and the
Kennebec.
New Hampshire had now for some years submitted to the jurisdiction of
Massachusetts, under which it was greatly content; but Mason’s claims,
which had long lain dormant, having been again revived in England, were
only decided to be valid with respect to unappropriated land; and the
government, wishful to humble and mortify Massachusetts, pronounced the
towns on the Piscataqua not to be within her limits, and, in 1679,
proceeded formally to separate New Hampshire from her jurisdiction. New
Hampshire was now erected into a royal province, the assembly to be
chosen by the people, the president and council to be appointed by the
crown. This change was extremely unwelcome to the people of New
Hampshire, and the following year the General Assembly sorrowfully
addressed the friends from whom they were severed in these words:—“We
thankfully acknowledge your kindness while we dwelt under your shadow,
avowing ourselves deeply obliged that, on our earnest request, you took
us under your government and ruled us well. If there be opportunity for
us to be in anywise serviceable to you, we shall show you how ready we
are to embrace it. Wishing the presence of God to be with you, we crave
the benefit of your prayers on us who are separated from our brethren.”
The colony, now a royal province, endeavoured nevertheless still to
maintain the principles of democratic liberty in the new code which was
drawn up by the General Assembly, but which was utterly disapproved and
rejected when sent to England. Mason also found it next to impossible to
establish his claims even to unappropriated lands, and returning to
England, sent over one Cranfield, a needy adventurer, as his agent and
as governor of the province, with a mortgage on the whole for twenty-one
years, the crown being a party to the arrangement and receiving from
Mason one-fifth of all quit-rents for the support of the government,
which revenue was allowed to Cranfield as his salary. Full of the hope
of speedily making a large fortune, Cranfield arrived in the province,
but only to find that he had to deal with men of a determined and
patriotic spirit, ready in every way to oppose his aggressions under
whatever form they might appear. The people were vexed with lawsuits and
the imposition of fines from one end of the province to the other. In
vain the governor made use of every subterfuge to raise money and to
intimidate; now on the pretence of invasion, now by prosecutions
regarding church discipline, now by the terror of an approaching Indian
war. It was to no purpose; he had to deal with a people firm as the
granite mountains of their land, and from their steadfastness, rather
than from the character of these bulwarks of nature, New Hampshire to
this day retains the appellation of the Granite State.
It was impossible to gather the illegal taxes which Cranfield imposed.
Associations were formed to resist their collection. At one town the
sheriff was driven away with clubs, and his officer threatened with
spits and scalding water by the irate and determined farmers’ wives,
whose household goods he was about to distrain upon; in another place he
was despoiled of his signs of office, and with a rope round his neck,
conveyed out of the province. Cranfield was soon as glad to withdraw
from “these unreasonable people,” as he termed them, as Mason had been
before him.
Returning now to Massachusetts, against whom not only the Tory party,
now in power, but the commercial interests of England were placed in
such hostile array, we find a question started which was calculated to
shake her to the very centre. Seeing it was impossible to bring her to
obedience by any measure which had hitherto been tried, a question was
started “as to the legal entity of her charter;” and the crown not being
able to deny the validity of the patent, a writ of _quo warranto_,
before which the cities and boroughs of England had just yielded, was
proposed. The colony beheld the gloomy aspect of the future with
sentiments of deep emotion, and again a religious fervour, almost
superstitious, possessed all hearts. The most solemn religious
observances were adopted; the elders took it again into serious
deliberation as to what were the sins of New England for which Heaven
visited her with such signal judgments. As before, in the terror of the
Indians, the pardonable sins of youthful levity and love of pleasure
were looked upon as offensive to God, and still greater austerity of
life was imposed. They forgot what, in truth, were the crying sins of
the colony—spiritual pride, bigotry and intolerance—the want of charity
and mercy, whether to Anabaptists, Quakers, or Indians. The colony, like
some sinful city of old, again humbled itself as in sackcloth and ashes,
but “the anger of the Lord was not turned aside.”
English enactments, in 1678, began to be in force; high treason became a
capital offence; the oath of allegiance was required, and the king’s
arms were erected in the court-house. The colony, however, wishful to
save its charter, was willing to make some concessions; therefore
resorting to an expedient which might save their honour, the general
court gave validity to the long opposed Navigation Laws by an act of its
own. Massachusetts asserted thus the right to govern herself; and
Charles, still more exasperated, resolved on her humiliation. A struggle
ensued, during which Edward Randolph was twice sent from England to
assist in bringing the stiff-necked colony into order.
[Illustration: EJECTMENT OF THE SHERIFF BY THE PEOPLE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.]
At length, in February, 1682, affairs growing more and more desperate,
two agents, fully empowered to act for the colony, were sent over from
New England, the prayers of the whole commonwealth accompanying them,
not only for their safety, but for the safety of the patent—their great
charter of liberty. But they were unsuccessful; perhaps because, to use
the phraseology of those times, “the anger of the Lord was against
them,” they having, as it appears to us, unworthily, in imitation of
France and the whole spirit of the English court, gone with a bribe in
their hands.
But bribes or concessions were equally unavailing; there was no hope for
the charter. In vain was Massachusetts moved, from one boundary to
another, as by a public calamity, in which every household, every
individual suffered; in vain it was spoken of everywhere; in vain
deplored; in vain was it the subject of household prayer and of the
Sabbath sermon; the charter was doomed, and the unsuccessful agents
returned. Again the hated Randolph arrived in a royal frigate, bringing
with him a writ of _quo warranto_, which was served by himself on the
magistrates. But the king was willing to be gracious, and would
Massachusetts only submit, “as few innovations should be made as
possible, consistent with a royal government;” such was the message of
irritated majesty received by the democratic state.
Again was there a deep deliberation throughout Massachusetts; and from
that day two parties existed in the state, “the patriots who defended
the rights of the colonies, and the prerogative men who were in favour
of complete submission to the royal authority.” For a whole fortnight,
the question was debated; “the civil liberties of New England,” argued
they nobly, “are part of the inheritance of our fathers; shall we give
that inheritance away? It is objected that we shall be exposed to great
sufferings. Better suffer than sin. It is better to trust the God of our
fathers than to put confidence in princes. If we suffer because we dare
not comply with the wills of men against the will of God, we suffer in a
good cause, and shall be accounted martyrs in the next generation, and
at the great day.”
The decision was recorded, that “the deputies consent not, but adhere to
their former bills.” Agents again were sent to the king to entreat his
forbearance; but the charter was already annulled. On July 2nd, 1685, a
copy of the judgment was received in Boston and sorrow and humiliation
overspread the colony.