In the mouths of the people of New England, and indeed throughout the
United States, the name of John Hancock has become a household word. In
the State of Massachusetts, where he was born, lived, and died, and in
the affairs of which he took, for five-and-twenty years, so very active
and leading a part, he enjoyed a degree and a permanence of popularity
never yet obtained by any other man. And yet we may observe and the same
thing may be noted in other and more recent instances--a remarkable fact
that deserves to be pondered--that his high degree of popularity was not
at all dependent upon any peculiar embodiment or manifestation on his
part of the more prevailing and characteristic traits of the community
about him. Indeed the popular favor which Hancock enjoyed would seem to
have been determined, as the attachment of individuals so often is, and
as has happened also in other notable instances, rather by the
attraction of opposites.
And yet Hancock's line of descent was such as might naturally enough
have inspired the expectation of finding in him a good many more marks
of the old puritan temper and manners than he ever exhibited. From the
days of the first settlement of New England, down to the period of the
Revolution and afterwards, the "ministers" constituted a sort of
clerical nobility, enjoying a very high degree of influence and
consideration; and it is to forefathers of that order, that a large part
of the most distinguished and influential New England families may trace
their origin. The elder sons of these ministers, commonly, and the
younger ones often, were educated to the profession of their fathers,
long regarded in New England as the most certain road to distinction,
whether spiritual or temporal. But as the demand for ministers was
limited, and as their families were generally pretty large, many of
their sons found it necessary to engage in the avocations of civil life,
in which they not uncommonly attained to wealth and high social
positions. Yet, for the most part, however zealous and successful they
might be in the pursuit of temporal objects, they still continued to
exhibit pretty evident marks of their clerical descent and breeding in a
certain stiff, cold, and austere gravity, if not, indeed, in a certain
sanctimonious air even in the very act of concluding the very tightest
and sharpest of bargains;--all the attributes, in fact, comprehensively
and impressively conveyed to an inhabitant of New England by the title
of _Deacon_, which office, as if still clinging to the horns of the
altar, they often filled; thus becoming pillars and supports of that
church of which their fathers had been the candlesticks.
The grandfather of John Hancock, himself called John, was for more than
fifty years, as if by a sort of vaticination of the future, minister of
Lexington, near to Concord; thus associating with that of Hancock
another name, now to all American ears so familiar as the scene of the
first revolutionary bloodshed. We are told by a biographer of this first
John Hancock, that he possessed "a facetious temper," but in the grim
old portrait which still hangs on the walls of his grandson's family
mansion-house, very small traces of facetiousness appear; and so far as
physiognomy goes, we should be rather inclined to look to his
grandmother, to whose accompanying portrait the artist has given a fine
open countenance, with something of a magnificent and voluptuous style
of beauty, for the source of those social qualities and captivating
manners by which their famous grandson was distinguished. The minister
of Lexington had two sons, both also ministers, one of whom became his
father's colleague. The other, the father of our John Hancock, was
settled at Braintree, near Boston, in that part of it which now
constitutes the town of Quincy; and it was here that in the year 1737
our John Hancock was born, only a short distance from the birth-place of
John Adams, who was some two years his senior. The old house in which
the future patriot first saw the light was destroyed by an accidental
fire previous to the Revolution; and the land on which it had stood
coming subsequently into the possession of John Adams, he presented it
to the town of Quincy as a site for a future academy.
At the age of six or seven years, the young John Hancock was left
without a father; but in his uncle, Thomas Hancock, he found a guardian
and protector, who not only loved him, but was able to assist him.
Thomas Hancock early in life had been placed as an apprentice to a
Boston stationer, and had afterwards set up in that line of business for
himself: but subsequently extending the sphere of his operations, he
became one of the most eminent and successful merchants of New England.
As he had no children, he adopted, as his own, his young nephew, whose
affable and joyous temper had not failed to make him dear to his uncle,
as they did to so many others; and having sent him to Harvard College,
where he graduated at the early age of seventeen, he took him afterwards
into his counting-house to be initiated into the mysteries of
merchandise; and in due season admitted him as a partner. It was,
perhaps, as well on business as for pleasure, or general improvement,
that the young Hancock visited England, whither he went in company with
the returning Governor Pownall, whose taste for social enjoyment was
similar to his own, and where he saw the funeral of George II. and the
coronation of George III., little thinking at that moment how active a
part he was himself soon to take in curtailing the limits of the British
monarchy, and in snatching from the young king's crown its brightest
jewel.
Thomas Hancock, the uncle, died in 1764, leaving behind him a fortune
amassed by his judicious and successful mercantile enterprises, of not
less than $350,000, one of the largest ever acquired in Boston, up to
that time, though small in comparison with several of the present day,
when even ten times as much may be produced by combined good fortune,
tact, and perseverance. Thomas Hancock bestowed by his will some
considerable legacies for charitable purposes, among others a thousand
pounds to Harvard College to endow a professorship of oriental
languages, being thus, as the historian of the college assures us, the
first native American to endow a professorship in any literary
institution;--but the great bulk of his fortune he bequeathed to his
favorite nephew, $250,000 at once, and a reversionary interest in
$100,000 more, of which his widow was to enjoy the use during her life.
Thus in 1764, at the early age of twenty-seven, and just upon the eve of
the commencement of the revolutionary disputes with the mother country,
John Hancock came into possession of one of the largest fortunes in the
province.
Yet, though this large estate was an instrument and a stepping-stone,
without the help of which Hancock would never have attained to that
social and political distinction which he coveted and enjoyed so much,
yet without his rare personal gifts and accomplishments it would have
been wholly unavailing to that end; and so far from qualifying him,
would have disqualified him, as it did so many other of the rich men of
that time, for playing the conspicuous part he did in political affairs.
Though for some time after his uncle's death he continued in business as
a merchant, there were others who knew much better than he how to
increase estates, already in the popular estimate--especially
considering the use made of them--quite too large. Indeed, his business
operations do not seem to have had mainly or primarily in view the
making of money; for though he started new enterprises, going largely
into ship-building, it was rather, at least so Hutchinson insinuates, as
a politician than as a capitalist, looking more to the number of people
he employed, and the increase thereby of his influence and popularity,
than to the enlargement of his already plentiful fortune. There were
others also who knew much better than he how to keep what they had, at
least as they thought, men who used no less economy in spending their
money than they or their fathers had done in acquiring it. But although
the rich man who keeps his capital entire, and even increasing, is, in
some sense, certainly a public benefactor, yet the fountain that
overflows, sending forth a copious stream which the thirsty passers-by
are all free to drink from, or at least to look at, is always more
joyfully seen and more pleasingly remembered--even though it does run
the risk of some time running dry--than the deep well, whose water is
hardly visible, and which, though quite inexhaustible, yet for want of
any kind of a bucket that can be made to sink into it, or any rope long
enough to draw such a bucket up, is very little available to the parched
throats of the fainting wayfarers, who, in the spirit and with the
feelings of Tantalus, are thus rather disposed to curse than to bless
it.
To be able to make money is, at least in New England, a very common
accomplishment, to be able to keep it not a rare one; but very few have
understood so well as Hancock did, how to make the most of it in the way
of spending it, obtaining from it, as he did, the double gratification
of satisfying his own private inclinations, at the same time that he
promoted his political views by the hold that he gained on the favor and
good-will of his fellow-citizens.
He possessed, indeed, in a degree, those tastes which wealth is best
able to gratify, and to the gratification of which it is most essential.
In the very face and eyes of the puritanical opinions and the staid and
ultra-sober habits of New England, he delighted in splendid furniture,
fine clothes, showy equipages, rich wines, good dinners, gay company,
cards, dances, music, and all sorts of festivities. Nothing pleased him
so much as to have his house full of guests to share with him in these
enjoyments, and few were better qualified, by winning manners, graceful
and affable address, a ready wit, a full flow of spirits, and a keen
enjoyment of the whole thing, to act the part of master of the feast.
But while thus luxuriously inclined, he had no disposition for gross
debauch: and the presence of ladies at all his entertainments, while it
seemed to give to them a new zest, banished from his house that riotous
dissipation into which mere male gatherings are so certain to sink; and
which in times past, in New England, made the idea of gross dissipation
almost inseparable from that of social enjoyment, nor even yet is the
distinction between them fully apprehended by every body.
Among other property which Hancock had inherited from his uncle, was a
stone mansion-house, still standing, and now in the very centre of the
city of Boston, but which then was looked upon as quite retired and
almost in the country. This house, which was built about the year that
Hancock was born, fronts eastwardly on Boston Common, since so
elaborately improved and converted into so beautiful a park, with its
gravel walks, trees, and smooth-shaven lawns, but which was then a
_common_ in the old English sense of the word, a common pasture for the
cows of the neighbors, and a training field for the militia, with very
few improvements except a single gravel walk and two or three rows of
trees along Tremont-street. This house was situated a little west of the
central and highest summit of that triple hill, which had early acquired
for the peninsula of Boston the name of Trimountain,--since shortened
into Tremont, and preserved in the name of the street above mentioned,
which central summit was, from an early period, known as Beacon Hill, a
name preserved in that of Beacon-street. This name was derived from the
use to which this highest central summit had been put from a very early
period--materials being always kept in readiness upon the top of it for
kindling a bonfire, as a means of alarming the country round in case of
invasion or other danger. After having been a good deal graded down,
this summit is now occupied as a site for the State House, which, with
its conspicuous dome, crowns and overlooks the whole city.
It was in this mansion-house of his uncle's, which seems as if by a sort
of attraction to have drawn the State House to its side, that Hancock
continued to live except when absent at Philadelphia in attendance on
the Continental Congress; and not content with its original dimensions,
to afford more room for his numerous guests, he built at one end of it a
wooden addition, since removed, containing a dining-room, dancing-hall,
and other like conveniences. It was here Hancock, assisted by his
amiable and accomplished wife, who entered into all his tastes and
feelings, and who contributed her full share to give expression and
realization to them, presided over so many social dinner parties and gay
assemblages, dressed out, both host and guests, in that rich costume
which Copley, who was one of Hancock's near neighbors, loved so well to
paint, and of which his pencil has transmitted to us so vivid an idea.
Nor did he show himself abroad with less display than he exhibited at
home, his custom being to ride on public occasions in a splendid
carriage drawn by six beautiful bays, and attended by several servants
in livery.
While the public attention was thus drawn upon him by a display which at
once attracted and gratified the eyes of the multitude, whose envy at
that time there was less fear than now of exciting, and by a generous
and free hospitality, the more captivating for not being either
indigenous or common, the part which Hancock took in the rising disputes
with the mother country converted him into that popular idol, which he
continued to be for the remainder of his life; and which, to one so
greedy as he was of honor and applause, must have been in the highest
degree gratifying. It is indeed not uncommon to depreciate the public
services of such men as Hancock, by ascribing all to vanity and the love
of distinction; as if without the impulse of these motives any great
efforts would be made to serve the public! Worthy indeed of all honor
are those men in whom these impulses take so honorable a direction; and
happy the nation able to purchase such services at so cheap a rate!
In 1766, two years after his uncle's death, Hancock was chosen, along
with James Otis, Samuel Adams, and Thomas Cushing, one of the four
representatives from Boston to the General Court. The seizure, two years
after, of his sloop Liberty, for alleged violations of the revenue laws,
in evading the payment of duties on a cargo of wine imported from
Madeira, closely and personally identified him with the resistance then
making throughout the colonies to the attempt to collect a revenue in
America by parliamentary authority alone. This seizure led to a riot
which figures in all the histories of that period, by which the
commissioners of the customs were driven from the town, and in
consequence of which two or three British regiments were ordered to
Boston--the first step on the part of the mother country towards a
military enforcement of the authority which she claimed. Hancock felt
personally the consequences of this riot, in a number of libels or
criminal informations filed against him in the Court of Admiralty, to
recover penalties to the amount of three or four hundred thousand
dollars, for violations of the revenue laws. "It seemed," writes John
Adams in his Diary, and he had ample opportunity to know, for he was
retained as Hancock's counsel, "as if the officers of the court were
determined to examine the whole town as witnesses." In hopes to fish out
some evidence against him; they interrogated many of his near relations
and most intimate friends. They even threatened to summon his aged and
venerable aunt: nor did those annoyances cease till the battle of
Lexington, the siege of Boston, and the expulsion of the British from
that town shut up the Admiralty Court, and brought the prosecution, and
British authority along with it, to an end.
At the commencement of the disputes with the mother country, the
sentiment against the right of parliament to impose taxes on the
colonies had seemed to be almost unanimous. The only exceptions were a
few persons holding office under the crown. The rich especially, this
being a question that touched the pocket, were very loud in their
protests against any such exercise of parliamentary authority. But as
the dispute grew more warm and violent, threatening to end in civil
commotions, the rich, not doubting that the mother country would triumph
in the end, and fearing the loss of their entire property in the attempt
to save a part of it, began to draw back; thus making much more
conspicuous than ever the position of Hancock as a leader of the popular
party. Indeed there was hardly a wealthy man in Boston, he and Bowdoin
excepted, both of whom had not accumulated but inherited their property,
who did not end with joining the side of the mother country. And the
same thing may be observed of Massachusetts, and indeed of New England
generally. Of all the larger and better-looking mansion-houses, of
eighty years old and upwards, still standing in the vicinity of Boston,
of which the number is considerable, there are very few that did not
originally belong to some old tory who forfeited his property out of his
very anxiety to preserve it. Hancock's acceptance of the command of the
company of cadets or governor's guard, whence the title of colonel by
which for some time he was known; his acting with that company as an
escort, at the funeral of Lieutenant-Governor Oliver, who was very
obnoxious to the patriots; his refusing to go all lengths with Samuel
Adams in the controversy with Hutchinson as to the governor's right to
call the General Court together, elsewhere than in Boston; and the
circumstance that although he had been several times before negatived as
a member of the council, Hutchinson had at length allowed his name on
the list of counsellors proposed by the General Court; these and perhaps
some other circumstances excited indeed some suspicions that Hancock
also was growing lukewarm to the popular cause. But these he took care
to dissipate by declining to sit as counsellor, by acting as orator at
the Anniversary of the Boston Massacre, and by accepting, not long
after, an appointment as one of the delegates to the Continental
Congress. The oration above alluded to, delivered in March, 1774, and
which Hancock's enemies pretended was written for him by Dr. Cooper, was
pronounced by John Adams, who heard it, "an eloquent, pathetic, and
spirited performance."
"The composition," so he wrote in his diary, "the pronunciation, the
action, all exceeded the expectation of every body. [These last were
certainly not Cooper's.] They exceeded even mine, which were very
considerable. Many of the sentiments came with great propriety from him.
His invective, particularly against a preference of riches to virtue,
came from him with a singular dignity and grace." A passage in this
oration, which was afterwards printed, on the subject of standing
armies, gave great offence to the British officers and soldiers by whom
the town continued to be occupied, and not long after Governor Gage
dismissed Hancock from his command of the company of cadets; whereupon
they disbanded themselves, returning the standard which the governor on
his initiation into office had presented to them.
The sensibilities of the British officers and soldiers being again
excited by some parts of an oration delivered the next year by Dr.
Warren, on the same anniversary, a few weeks before the battle of
Lexington, a military mob beset Hancock's house and began to destroy the
fences and waste the grounds. Gage sent a military guard to put a stop
to their outrages.
But it was no longer safe for Hancock to remain in such close contiguity
to the British troops. He was president of the Provincial Congress of
Massachusetts, which, in consequence of the act of parliament to modify
the charter of that province, had lately assumed to themselves the power
of the purse and the sword. He was also president of the provincial
committee of safety, which, under authority of the Provincial Congress,
had begun in good earnest to prepare for taking arms for the vindication
of those rights which the men of Massachusetts claimed under the now
violated and (so far as parliament had the power) abrogated Charter of
the province. Under these circumstances, Hancock abandoned his house,
which was subsequently occupied by Lord Percy as his headquarters; and
at the time of the march of the British troops for Concord, he was
living at Lexington, in company with Samuel Adams. Indeed it was
supposed that one of the objects of this march was to seize the persons
of those two patriots, to whom Gage seemed to point as the authors of
the collision at Lexington by the issue of a proclamation, in which
pardon was offered to all who, giving over their late traitorous
proceedings, would furnish proof of their repentance and of their
renewed allegiance to their king, by submitting to the authority of his
duly appointed governor, and of the late act of parliament: but from
this pardon John Hancock and Samuel Adams were excepted, their offences
being too flagrant to be passed over without condign punishment.
Before the issue of this proclamation, Hancock had already proceeded to
Philadelphia, where the famous Continental Congress of 1775 was already
in session, composed, to a great extent, of the same members with its
predecessor of the year before, but of which he had been chosen a member
in place of Bowdoin. He was a fluent and agreeable speaker, one of those
who, by grace of manner, seem to add a double force and weight to all
which they say; yet in that illustrious assembly there were quite a
number, including John Adams, from his own State, compared with whom he
could hardly have claimed rank as an orator. There were also in that
assembly several able writers; the state papers emanating from whose
pens were compared by Chatham to the ablest productions of the
republican ages of Greece and Rome; but Hancock was not one of those.
There were men of business there who undertook, without shrinking, all
the Herculean labors of organizing the army and navy, the treasury and
the foreign office of the new confederation--but neither in this line
does Hancock appear to have been greatly distinguished. And yet it was
not long before, by his appointment as president of that body, he rose
to a position in Continental affairs, no less conspicuous than that
which we have seen him exercising in those of his own province.
Circumstances led indeed to this situation, quite apart from Hancock's
personal qualifications, and yet had he not possessed those
qualifications in a high degree, he would never have had the opportunity
of immortalizing himself as he has done by his famous signature at the
head of the Declaration of Independence,--a signature well calculated to
give a strong impression with those who judge of personal character by
handwriting, of the decided temper and whole-hearted energy of the man.
Virginia, as the most populous and wealthy of the colonies, had received
the compliment of furnishing the President of the Congress of 1774; and
Peyton Randolph--a planter and lawyer, an elderly gentleman of the old
school, formerly attorney general of that province, and in Governor
Dinwiddie's time, sent by the Assembly on a special message to England,
to complain of the governor for the fees he exacted on patents of
land--had been first selected for that distinguished station. He had
again been chosen as President of the new Congress; but being also
speaker of the Virginia House of Burgesses, and that body having been
called together by Lord Dunmore, in what proved to be its last meeting,
to consider Lord North's conciliatory propositions, it became necessary
for Randolph to return home. His place in Congress was filled, in
compliance with an arrangement previously made by the House of
Burgesses, by no less distinguished a successor than Thomas Jefferson;
but in filling up the vacant seat of President of Congress, during what
was then regarded as but the temporary absence of Randolph, it was
natural enough to look to Massachusetts, the next province to Virginia
in population and wealth, no ways behind her in zeal for the cause, and,
as the result proved, far her superior in military capabilities. Nor
among the delegates present from Massachusetts, was there any one who
seemed, on the whole, so well fitted for the station, or likely to be at
all so satisfactory to the delegates from the other States, as John
Hancock. Had James Bowdoin been present, he would perhaps have been more
acceptable to the great body of the members than Hancock, as being less
identified than he was with violent measures. But though chosen a
delegate to the first Congress, the sickness of Bowdoin's wife had
prevented his attendance; and the same cause still operating to keep him
at home, John Hancock had been appointed, as we have mentioned, in his
place. Of Hancock's four colleagues, all of whom were older men than
himself, Samuel Adams certainly, if not John Adams also, might have
disputed with him the palm of zeal and activity in the revolutionary
cause; but not one of them risked so much as he did, at least in the
judgment of his fellow-members from the middle and southern provinces,
who were generally men of property. He alone, of all the New England
delegates, had a fortune to lose; and while his wealthy southern
colleagues looked with some distrust upon the Adamses, regarding them
perhaps a little in the light, if we may be pardoned so coarse an
illustration, of the monkey in the fable, who wished to rake his
chestnuts out of the fire at the risk and expense of other people's
fingers, no such idea could attach to Hancock, who, in point of fortune,
had probably as much to lose as any other member, except perhaps John
Dickinson--for the wealthy Charles Carrol, of Maryland, had not a seat
in the Congress. At the same time Hancock's genial manners and social
spirit, seemed to the members from the southern and middle provinces to
make him quite one of themselves, an associate in pleasure and social
intercourse, as well as in business; while the austere spirit and
laborious industry of the Adamses threatened to inflict upon them the
double hardship of all work and no play. But while the moderate members
found, as they supposed, in the fortune which Hancock had at stake a
pledge that he would not hurry matters to any violent extremes; the few
also most disposed to press matters to a final breach, were well
satisfied to have as president, one who had shown himself in his own
province so energetic, prompt, decisive, and thorough.
Yet Hancock's colleagues, and the members generally from New England,
never entirely forgave the preference which had been thus early shown to
him; and upon many of the sectional questions and interests which soon
sprung up, and by which the Continental Congress was at times so
seriously belittled and so greatly distracted, Hancock was often accused
of deserting the interests of New England, and of going with the
southern party. The internal and secret history of the Continental
Congress or rather of the temporary and personal motives by which the
conduct of its members, as to a variety of details, was influenced,
remains so much in obscurity that it is not easy to ascertain the
precise foundation of those charges, reiterated as they are in letters
and other memoirs of those times; but on the whole, no reason appears to
regard them otherwise than as the natural ebullition of disappointed
partisanship against a man, who, in the struggle of contending factions
and local interests, strove to hold the balance even, and who did not
believe, with Samuel Adams and some others, that political wisdom was
limited to New England alone.
The President of Congress, in those times, was regarded as the personal
representative of that body and of the sovereignty of the Union; and in
that respect filled, to a certain degree, in the eye of the nation and
of the world, the place now occupied by the President of the United
States, though sharing, in no degree, the vast patronage and substantial
power attached to the latter office. In his capacity of personal
representative of the nation the President of Congress kept open house
and a well-spread table, to which members of Congress, officers of the
army, attaches of the diplomatic corps foreign and domestic,
distinguished strangers, every body in fact who thought themselves to be
any body--a pretty large class, at least in America--expected
invitations; whereby was imposed upon that officer pretty laborious
social duties, in addition to his public and political ones, which were
by no means trifling. All these duties of both classes, Hancock
continued to discharge with great assiduity and to general satisfaction,
for upwards of two years and a half, through a period at which the power
and respectability of the Continental Congress was at its greatest
height, before the downfall of the paper money and the total exhaustion
of the credit of the nation at home and abroad had reduced the
representative of the sovereignty of the nation to a pitiful dependence
on the bounty of France, and upon requisitions on the States, to which
very little attention was paid. Feeling all the dignity of his position,
Hancock took one of the largest houses in Philadelphia, where he lived
in profuse hospitality, and all upon advances made out of his own
pocket. After his day, it became necessary for Congress to allow their
president a certain annual stipend out of the public treasury to support
the expenses of his household. In Hancock's time, this was not thought
of; and it was not till near the close of the war, after the precedent
had been established in the case of his successors, that he put in any
claim for the reimbursement of his expenses.
There is a story, that Hancock, when chosen President of Congress,
blushed and modestly hung back, and was drawn into the chair only by the
exertion of some gentle force on the part of the brawny Harrison, a
member from Virginia, and afterwards governor of that State. And yet,
according to John Adams, Hancock was hardly warm in his seat when he
aspired to a much more distinguished position. He expected to have been
appointed Commander-in-Chief of the American armies, and displayed in
his countenance, so Adams says in his Diary, the greatest vexation and
disappointment when Washington was named for that station. It is certain
that he had some military aspirations, for he wrote to Washington
shortly after his assumption of command, requesting that some place in
the army might be kept for him, to which Washington replied with
compliments at his zeal, but with apprehension that he had no place at
his disposal worthy of Colonel Hancock's acceptance. Not long after his
return to Boston, his military ardor revived. He procured himself to be
chosen a major-general of the Massachusetts militia, and he marched the
next summer (1778) at the head of his division to join the expedition
against Newport, in which the French fleet and troops just arrived under
D'Estaing, a detachment from Washington's army under Sullivan, Greene,
and La Fayette, and the militia from the neighboring States were to
co-operate. But D'Estaing suffered himself to be drawn out to sea by the
English fleet, which had appeared off Newport for that express purpose,
and after a slight running engagement, the fleet, while struggling for
the weather gauge, were separated by a violent storm, in which some of
D'Estaing's ships were dismasted and others greatly damaged, so that he
judged it necessary to put into Boston to refit. The American army
meanwhile had crossed to Rhode Island, and established itself before
Newport, but as Count D'Estaing could not be persuaded to return, it
became necessary to abandon the island, not without a battle to cover
the retreat. With this expedition, Hancock's military career seems to
have terminated; but on arriving at Boston, he found ample work on hand
better adapted perhaps to his talents than the business of active
warfare. Sullivan, of a hot and impetuous temper, and excessively vexed
at D'Estaing's conduct, was even imprudent enough to give expression to
his feelings in general orders. It was like touching a spark to tinder,
and the American army before New-York, which shared the general's
feelings, encouraged by his example, "broke out," so Greene wrote to
Washington, "in clamorous strains." The same disappointment was bitterly
felt also at Boston; for the British occupation of Newport had long been
an eyesore to New England, occasioning great expense in keeping up
militia to watch the enemy there, and in projects for their expulsion;
and the prevailing dissatisfaction at the conduct of the French admiral
soon found expression in a serious riot between the populace of the town
and the sailors of the French fleet, threatening to revive all those
violent prejudices against the French, fostered in the colonies for near
a hundred years, and which the recent alliance with France had glossed
over indeed, but had not wholly subdued. Upon this occasion, Hancock
exerted himself with zeal and success to prevent this ill-temper, which
had broken out between the classes least accustomed to restrain their
feelings or the expression of them, from spreading any higher. He opened
his house to the French officers, who, delighted at the opportunity of
social enjoyment and female society, kept it full from morning till
night, and by his "unwearied pains," so La Fayette wrote to Washington,
did much to heal the breach which Sullivan's imprudence had so
dangerously aggravated. On this occasion, at least, if on no other,
Hancock's love of gayety, and of social pleasures, proved very
serviceable to his country.
During his absence at Philadelphia, his popularity at home had undergone
no diminution, and he soon resumed, as a member of the council, on which
since the breach with Gage the executive administration had devolved, a
leading influence in the State administration; and when at last, after
two trials, a constitution was sanctioned by the people, he was chosen
by general consent the first governor under it. This was a station of
vastly more consideration then than now. Under the old confederation, at
least after the Continental Congress, by the exhaustion of its credit
and the repudiation of its bills, had no longer money at command, the
States were sovereign in fact as well as in words; while all that
reverence which under the old system had attached to the royal
governors, had been transferred to their first republican successors.
Since that period the State governments have sunk into mere
municipalities for the administration of local affairs, and all eyes
being constantly turned towards Washington, the executive offices of the
States, even the station of governor, are no longer regarded except as
stepping-stones to something higher.
Hancock discharged his office as governor to good acceptance for five
years, when he voluntarily retired, making way for James Bowdoin, who
might be regarded in some respects as his rival, the head of a party,
perhaps more intelligent, and certainly far more select, than that great
body of the population by whom Hancock was supported; but whom, so at
least his opponents said, he rather studied to follow than aspired to
lead. During Bowdoin's administration, occurred Shays' insurrection, one
of the most interesting and instructive incidents in the history of
Massachusetts, but into the particulars of which we have not space here
to enter. This insurrection, of which the great object was the
cancelling of debts, an object which the States now practically
accomplish by means of insolvent laws, was thought to involve, either as
participators more or less active, or at least as favorers and
sympathizers, not less than a third part of the population of the State.
The active measures taken at Bowdoin's suggestion for putting down the
insurgents by an armed force, and the political disabilities and other
punishments inflicted upon them after their defeat, did not at all tend
to increase Bowdoin's popularity with this large portion of the people.
Though Hancock's health had not allowed him to take his seat in the
Continental Congress, to which he had again been chosen a delegate, and
by which he had, in his absence, been again selected as their
president--yet, weary of retirement, he suffered himself to be brought
forward as a candidate, and to be elected as governor over Bowdoin's
head--a procedure never forgiven by what may be called the party of
property, against which the insurrection of Shays had been aimed, whose
members thenceforth did not cease, in private at least, to stigmatize
Hancock as a mere demagogue, if not indeed almost a Shaysite himself.
Nor indeed is it impossible, that the governor, with all his property,
had some personal sympathies with that party. He, like them, was
harassed with debts, which, as we have seen in the case of the college,
he was not much inclined, and probably not very able, to bring to a
settlement. He still had large possessions in lands and houses in
Boston, but at this moment his property was unsalable, and to a
considerable extent unproductive; and a stop law might have suited his
convenience not less than that of the embarrassed farmers in the
interior, who had assembled under the leadership of Shays to shut up the
courts and put a stop to suits. This scheme, however, had been
effectually put down prior to Hancock's accession to office, and it only
remained for him to moderate, by executive clemency, the penalties
inflicted on the suppressed insurgents--a policy which the state of the
times and the circumstances of the case very loudly demanded, however
little it might be to the taste of the more imperious leaders of the
party by which those penalties had been inflicted. But even this same
party might acknowledge a great obligation to Hancock for the assistance
which they soon after obtained from him in securing the ratification by
Massachusetts of that federal constitution under which we now so happily
live. Still governor of the State, he was chosen a delegate from Boston
to the State convention, called to consider the proposed constitution:
and though incapacitated by sickness from taking his seat till near the
close of the session, he was named its president. The federal
constitution had been already ratified by five States, Delaware,
Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Georgia, and Connecticut. But Virginia, New
York, and North Carolina, were known to be strongly against it, and its
rejection by Massachusetts would, in all probability, prevent its
acceptance by the number of States required to give it effect. The
convention was very equally divided, and the result hung long in doubt.
At last Hancock came upon the floor and proposed some amendments,
principally in the nature of a bill of rights, agreed to probably by
concert out of doors, to be suggested for the approval of Congress and
adoption by the States under the provision for amendments contained in
the constitution, and most of which were afterwards adopted. Thus
sweetened, the constitution was fairly forced down the reluctant throat
of the convention; and unlike the typical book of St. John, though so
bitter in the mouth, it has fortunately proved sweet enough and very
nourishing in the digestion.
On the occasion of Washington's visit to Boston, subsequently to his
inauguration as President, a curious struggle took place between him and
Hancock, or perhaps we ought rather to say, between the Governor of
Massachusetts and the President of the United States, on a question of
etiquette. Hancock, as Governor of Massachusetts, insisted upon the
first call, a precedence which Washington, as President of the United
States, refused to yield. Finding himself obliged to succumb, Hancock's
gout and other complicated diseases served him for once in good stead;
for in the note which he finally sent, announcing his intention to wait
upon Washington, they answered as a convenient excuse for not having
fulfilled that duty before.
Some two or three years after, we find Governor Hancock, out of
deference to the puritanical opinions and laws of the State, involved in
another noticeable controversy, but one into which he could not have
entered with any great heart. Shortly after the adoption of the federal
constitution, a company of stage-players had made their appearance in
Boston, and though the laws still prohibited theatrical exhibitions,
encouraged by the countenance of the gayer part of the population, they
commenced the performance of plays, which they advertised in the
newspapers as "Moral Lectures." Some of their friends among the
townsfolks had even built a temporary theatre for their accommodation, a
trampling under foot of the laws, which seemed the more reprehensible as
the legislature, though applied to for that purpose, had twice refused
to repeal that prohibitory statute. "To the legislature which met
shortly after," we quote from the fourth volume of Hildreth's History of
the United States, "Governor Hancock gave information that 'a number of
aliens and foreigners had entered the State, and in the metropolis of
the government, under advertisements insulting to the habits and
education of the citizens, had been pleased to invite them to, and to
exhibit before such as attended, stage-plays, interludes, and theatrical
entertainments, under the style and appellation of Moral Lectures.' All
which, as he complained, had been suffered to go on without any steps
taken to punish a most open breach of the laws, and a most contemptuous
insult to the powers of government. Shortly after this denunciation by
the governor, suddenly one night, in the midst of the performance of
'The School for Scandal,' the sheriff of the county appeared on the
stage, arrested the actors, and broke up the performances. When the
examination came on, having procured able counsel (one of whom, if we
mistake not, was the then young Harrison Gray Otis), the actors were
discharged on the ground that the arrest was illegal, the warrant not
having been sworn to. This error was soon corrected, and a second arrest
brought the performances to a close. But the legislature, finding that
the sentiment of the town of Boston was strong against the law, and that
a new and permanent theatre was in the course of erection, repealed the
prohibitory act a few months after."
This temporary triumph over the poor players was one of the last of
Hancock's long series of successes; unless indeed we ought to assign
that station to the agency which he had in procuring the erasure from
the federal constitution of a very equitable and necessary provision,
authorizing suits in the federal courts against the States by
individuals having claims upon them. At such a suit, brought against the
State of Massachusetts, Hancock exhibited a vast deal of indignation,
calling the legislature together at a very inconvenient season of the
year, and refusing to pay the least attention to the process served upon
him. Yet the Supreme Court of the United States, not long after, decided
that such suits would lie, as indeed was sufficiently plain from the
letter of the constitution. But the sovereign States, with all the
insolence customary to sovereigns, whether one-headed or many-headed,
scorned to be compelled to do justice; and the general clamor raised
against this reasonable and even necessary provision, caused it to be
ultimately struck from the constitution.
Before this was accomplished, Hancock's career of life was over. Worn
down by the gout and other aristocratic diseases, which the progress of
democracy seems, since his time, to have almost banished from America,
he expired at the early age of fifty-six, in the same house in which he
had presided over so many social and political festivities, lamented by
almost the entire population of the State in whose service he had spent
the best part of his life, and whose faithful attachment to him, spite
of some obvious weaknesses on his part, had yet never flagged.
Had we space and inclination, many lessons might be drawn from the
history of his life. We shall confine ourselves to this one, which every
body's daily experience may confirm: that success in active life,
whether political or private, even the attainment of the very highest
positions, depends far less on any extraordinary endowments, either of
nature or fortune, than upon an active, vigorous, and indefatigable
putting to use of such gifts as a man happens to have. What a
difference, so far as name and fame are concerned, and we may add, too,
enjoyment and a good conscience, between the man who puts his talent to
use and him who hoards it up, so that even its very existence remains
unknown to every body but himself and his intimate friends.
=John Adams.=
[Illustration: John Adams fac-simile of letter]
[Illustration: Residence of the Adams Family, Quincy, Mass.]