LOYALISM IN THE THIRTEEN COLONIES
It was a remark of John Fiske that the American Revolution
was merely a phase of English party politics in the
eighteenth century. In this view there is undoubtedly an
element of truth. The Revolution was a struggle within
the British Empire, in which were aligned on one side
the American Whigs supported by the English Whigs, and
on the other side the English Tories supported by the
American Tories. The leaders of the Whig party in England,
Charles James Fox, Edmund Burke, Colonel Barre, the great
Chatham himself, all championed the cause of the American
revolutionists in the English parliament. There were many
cases of Whig officers in the English army who refused
to serve against the rebels in America. General Richard
Montgomery, who led the revolutionists in their attack
on Quebec in 1775-76, furnishes the case of an English
officer who, having resigned his commission, came to
America and, on the outbreak of the rebellion, took
service in the rebel forces. On the other hand there were
thousands of American Tories who took service under the
king's banner; and some of the severest defeats which
the rebel forces suffered were encountered at their hands.
It would be a mistake, however, to identify too closely
the parties in England with the parties in America. The
old Tory party in England was very different from the
so-called Tory party in America. The term Tory in America
was, as a matter of fact, an epithet of derision applied
by the revolutionists to all who opposed them. The
opponents of the revolutionists called themselves not
Tories, but Loyalists or 'friends of government.'
There were, it is true, among the Loyalists not a few
who held language that smacked of Toryism. Among the
Loyalist pamphleteers there were those who preached the
doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance. Thus
the Rev. Jonathan Boucher, a clergyman of Virginia, wrote:
Having then, my brethren, thus long been tossed to
and fro in a wearisome circle of uncertain traditions,
or in speculations and projects still more uncertain,
concerning government, what better can you do than,
following the apostle's advice, 'to submit yourselves
to every ordinance of man, for the Lord's sake; whether
it be to the king as supreme, or unto governors, as
unto them that are sent by him for the punishment of
evil-doers, and for the praise of them that do well?
For, so is the will of God, that with well-doing ye
may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men; as
free, and not using your liberty for a cloak of
maliciousness, but as servants of God. Honour all men:
love the brotherhood: fear God: honour the king.'
Jonathan Boucher subscribed to the doctrine of the divine
right of kings:
Copying after the fair model of heaven itself, wherein
there was government even among the angels, the families
of the earth were subjected to rulers, at first set
over them by God. 'For there is no power, but of God:
the powers that be are ordained of God.' The first
father was the first king... Hence it is, that our
church, in perfect conformity with the doctrine here
inculcated, in her explication of the fifth commandment,
from the obedience due to parents, wisely derives the
congenial duty of 'honouring the king, and all that
are put in authority under him.'
Dr Myles Cooper, the president of King's College, took
up similar ground. God, he said, established the laws of
government, ordained the British power, and commanded
all to obey authority. 'The laws of heaven and earth'
forbade rebellion. To threaten open disrespect of government
was 'an unpardonable crime.' 'The principles of submission
and obedience to lawful authority' were religious duties.
But even Jonathan Boucher and Myles Cooper did not apply
these doctrines without reserve. They both upheld the
sacred right of petition and remonstrance. 'It is your
duty,' wrote Boucher, 'to instruct your members to take
all the constitutional means in their power to obtain
redress.' Both he and Cooper deplored the policy of the
British ministry. Cooper declared the Stamp Act to be
contrary to American rights; he approved of the opposition
to the duties on the enumerated articles; and he was
inclined to think the duty on tea 'dangerous to
constitutional liberty.'
It may be confidently asserted that the great majority
of the American Loyalists, in fact, did not approve of
the course pursued by the British government between 1765
and 1774. They did not deny its legality; but they doubted
as a rule either its wisdom or its justice. Thomas
Hutchinson, the governor of Massachusetts, one of the
most famous and most hated of the Loyalists, went to
England, if we are to believe his private letters, with
the secret ambition of obtaining the repeal of the act
which closed Boston harbour. Joseph Galloway, another of
the Loyalist leaders, and the author of the last serious
attempt at conciliation, actually sat in the first
Continental Congress, which was called with the object
of obtaining the redress of what Galloway himself described
as 'the grievances justly complained of.' Still more
instructive is the case of Daniel Dulany of Maryland.
Dulany, one of the most distinguished lawyers of his
time, was after the Declaration of Independence denounced
as a Tory; his property was confiscated, and the safety
of his person imperilled. Yet at the beginning of the
Revolution he had been found in the ranks of the Whig
pamphleteers; and no more damaging attack was ever made
on the policy of the British government than that contained
in his _Considerations on the Propriety of Imposing Taxes
in the British Colonies_. When the elder Pitt attacked
the Stamp Act in the House of Commons in January 1766,
he borrowed most of his argument from this pamphlet,
which had appeared three months before.
This difficulty which many of the Loyalists felt with
regard to the justice of the position taken up by the
British government greatly weakened the hands of the
Loyalist party in the early stages of the Revolution. It
was only as the Revolution gained momentum that the party
grew in vigour and numbers. A variety of factors contributed
to this result. In the first place there were the excesses
of the revolutionary mob. When the mob took to sacking
private houses, driving clergymen out of their pulpits,
and tarring and feathering respectable citizens, there
were doubtless many law-abiding people who became Tories
in spite of themselves. Later on, the methods of the
inquisitorial communities possibly made Tories out of
some who were the victims of their attentions. The outbreak
of armed rebellion must have shocked many into a reactionary
attitude. It was of these that a Whig satirist wrote,
quoting:
This word, Rebellion, hath frozen them up,
Like fish in a pond.
But the event which brought the greatest reinforcement
to the Loyalist ranks was the Declaration of Independence.
Six months before the Declaration of Independence was
passed by the Continental Congress, the Whig leaders had
been almost unanimous in repudiating any intention of
severing the connection between the mother country and
the colonies. Benjamin Franklin told Lord Chatham that
he had never heard in America one word in favour of
independence 'from any person, drunk or sober.' Jonathan
Boucher says that Washington told him in the summer of
1775 'that if ever I heard of his joining in any such
measures, I had his leave to set him down for everything
wicked.' As late as Christmas Day 1775 the revolutionary
congress of New Hampshire officially proclaimed their
disavowal of any purpose 'aiming at independence.'
Instances such as these could be reproduced indefinitely.
When, therefore, the Whig leaders in the summer of 1776
made their right-about-face with regard to independence,
it is not surprising that some of their followers fell
away from them. Among these were many who were heartily
opposed to the measures of the British government, and
who had even approved of the policy of armed rebellion.
but who could not forget that they were born British
subjects. They drank to the toast, 'My country, may she
always be right; but right or wrong, my country.'
Other motives influenced the growth of the Loyalist party.
There were those who opposed the Revolution because they
were dependent on government for their livelihood, royal
office-holders and Anglican clergymen for instance. There
were those who were Loyalists because they thought they
had picked the winning side, such as the man who candidly
wrote from New Brunswick in 1788, 'I have made one great
mistake in politics, for which reason I never intend to
make so great a blunder again.' Many espoused the cause
because they were natives of the British Isles, and had
not become thoroughly saturated with American ideas: of
the claimants for compensation before the Royal
Commissioners after the war almost two-thirds were persons
who had been born in England, Scotland, or Ireland. In
some of the colonies the struggle between Whig and Tory
followed older party lines: this was especially true in
New York, where the Livingston or Presbyterian party
became Whig and the De Lancey or Episcopalian party Tory.
Curiously enough the cleavage in many places followed
religious lines. The members of the Church of England
were in the main Loyalists; the Presbyterians were in
the main revolutionists. The revolutionist cause was
often strongest in those colonies, such as Connecticut,
where the Church of England was weakest. But the division
was far from being a strict one. There were even members
of the Church of England in the Boston Tea Party; and
there were Presbyterians among the exiles who went to
Canada and Nova Scotia. The Revolution was not in any
sense a religious war; but religious differences contributed
to embitter the conflict, and doubtless made Whigs or
Tories of people who had no other interest at stake.
It is commonly supposed that the Loyalists drew their
strength from the upper classes in the colonies, while
the revolutionists drew theirs from the proletariat.
There is just enough truth in this to make it misleading.
It is true that among the official classes and the large
landowners, among the clergymen, lawyers, and physicians,
the majority were Loyalists; and it is true that the mob
was everywhere revolutionist. But it cannot be said that
the Revolution was in any sense a war of social classes.
In it father was arrayed against son and brother against
brother. Benjamin Franklin was a Whig; his son, Sir
William Franklin, was a Tory. In the valley of the
Susquehanna the Tory Colonel John Butler, of Butler's
Rangers, found himself confronted by his Whig cousins,
Colonel William Butler and Colonel Zeb Butler. George
Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, were not inferior
in social status to Sir William Johnson, Thomas Hutchinson,
and Joseph Galloway. And, on the other hand, there were
no humbler peasants in the revolutionary ranks than some
of the Loyalist farmers who migrated to Upper Canada in
1783. All that can be said is that the Loyalists were
most numerous among those classes which had most to lose
by the change, and least numerous among those classes
which had least to lose.
Much labour has been spent on the problem of the numbers
of the Loyalists. No means of numbering political opinions
was resorted to at the time of the Revolution, so that
satisfactory statistics are not available. There was,
moreover, throughout the contest a good deal of going
and coming between the Whig and Tory camps, which makes
an estimate still more difficult. 'I have been struck,'
wrote Lorenzo Sabine, 'in the course of my investigations,
with the absence of fixed principles, not only among
people in the common walks of life, but in many of the
prominent personages of the day.' Alexander Hamilton,
for instance, deserted from the Tories to the Whigs;
Benedict Arnold deserted from the Whigs to the Tories.
The Loyalists themselves always maintained that they
constituted an actual majority in the Thirteen Colonies.
In 1779 they professed to have more troops in the field
than the Continental Congress. These statements were no
doubt exaggerations. The fact is that the strength of
the Loyalists was very unevenly distributed. In the colony
of New York they may well have been in the majority. They
were strong also in Pennsylvania, so strong that an
officer of the revolutionary army described that colony
as 'the enemies' country.' 'New York and Pennsylvania,'
wrote John Adams years afterwards, 'were so nearly
divided--if their propensity was not against us--that if
New England on one side and Virginia on the other had
not kept them in awe, they would have joined the British.'
In Georgia the Loyalists were in so large a majority that
in 1781 that colony would probably have detached itself
from the revolutionary movement had it not been for the
surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. On the other hand,
in the New England colonies the Loyalists were a small
minority, strongest perhaps in Connecticut, and yet even
there predominant only in one or two towns.
There were in the Thirteen Colonies at the time of the
Revolution in the neighbourhood of three million people.
Of these it is probable that at least one million were
Loyalists. This estimate is supported by the opinion of
John Adams, who was well qualified to form a judgment,
and whose Whig sympathies were not likely to incline him
to exaggerate. He gave it as his opinion more than once
that about one-third of the people of the Thirteen Colonies
had been opposed to the measures of the Revolution in
all its stages. This estimate he once mentioned in a
letter to Thomas McKean, chief justice of Pennsylvania,
who had signed the Declaration of Independence, and had
been a member of every Continental Congress from that of
1765 to the close of the Revolution; and McKean replied,
'You say that ... about a third of the people of the
colonies were against the Revolution. It required much
reflection before I could fix my opinion on this subject;
but on mature deliberation I conclude you are right, and
that more than a third of influential characters were
against it.'