the "liberal club," who assembled as soon as possible after James was
incarcerated. "The action of the Court will increase our subscribers;
and I propose to make the paper more spicy than ever."
"Glad to hear that," responded one of the club. "Let us defy such
intolerance, though all the magistrates and ministers in Boston
support it; the mass of the people are with us."
"That is so," remarked another; "and more are coming over to our side
every day. Intimidation does not become us now. We must continue to be
outspoken; and if Benjamin can look after the paper, we are all
right."
"That I can do, and I want no better sport," replied the plucky
printer-boy. "You may be sure that such persecution will not be
sustained by a great majority of New England people. We are living in
_New_ England, and not in _Old_ England, and the people know it."
"I think Benjamin understands it," added a third member of the club;
"and his courage and ability will meet the occasion. For one I want
the _Courant_ to continue to be what it has been, the General Court to
the contrary notwithstanding."
Benjamin did understand it, and edited the paper on the same line. He
forgot all his disagreements with his brother in his sympathy with him
under persecution, and in his utter contempt for the action of the
Court. In these circumstances, his attacks upon the administration
were rather more severe than ever. "The proceedings of the Council
were assailed by argument, eloquence, and satire, in prose and verse,
in squib and essay. One number, issued just after James Franklin's
release, was nearly filled with passages from 'Magna Charta,' and
comments upon the same, showing the unconstitutionality of the
treatment to which he had been subjected. It is evident that a
considerable number of the people of Boston most heartily sympathized
with the _Courant_ in its gallant contest for the liberty of the
press, and that the issue of the number was, to these and to others,
the most interesting event of the week."[1]
The authorities considered James' petition, and granted it, but they
kept him four weeks in prison before they let him out. He returned to
his printing office, resolved to make the _Courant_ more outspoken
still for the freedom of the press. The club met him with warm
congratulations.
"A great many printers have suffered more than you have," said one of
the number; "for you have not lost your head, not even an ear. In Old
England persecution of printers has been in order for a long time.
Less than two years ago, one John Matthews, a youth nineteen years of
age, was executed at Tyburn for writing and publishing a tract in
favor of the expelled Stuarts."
"But such things do not fit our country," answered James. "My father
came here to escape that spirit of caste and intolerance that abounds
in England, and so did those who came long before he did. To repeat
them here is a greater abomination than to act them there."
"Let me read to you," interrupted Benjamin, "an account of a printer's
execution in England, about twenty years before my father emigrated to
this country. I came across it in this book, a few days ago. It is
horrible." Benjamin read as follows:
"The scene is in a court-room in the Old Bailey, Chief Justice Hyde
presiding. The prisoner at the bar was a printer, named John Gwyn, a
poor man, with a wife and three children. Gwyn was accused of printing
a piece which criticised the conduct of the government, and which
contained these words and others similar: 'If the magistrates pervert
judgment, the people are bound, by the law of God, to execute judgment
without them, _and upon them_.' This was all his offense; but it was
construed as a justification of the execution of Charles I, as well as
a threat against Charles II, then king of England. The poor man
protested he had never read the offensive matter; it was brought to
him by a maid-servant; he had earned forty shillings by printing it.
"When he was pronounced guilty, he humbly begged for mercy, pleading
poverty, his young children, and his ignorance of the contents of the
paper. 'I'll tell you what you shall do,' roared the brutal wretch who
sat on the bench, 'ask mercy of them that can give it--that is, of God
and the king.' The prisoner said, 'I humbly beseech you to intercede
with his majesty for mercy.' 'Tie him up, executioner,' cried the
judge; 'I speak it from my soul: I think we have the greatest
happiness in the world in enjoying what we do under so good and
gracious a king; yet you, Gwyn, in the rancor of your heart, thus to
abuse him, deserve no mercy.' In a similar strain he continued for
several minutes, and then passed upon the prisoner the following
sentence: He was to be drawn to the place of execution upon a hurdle,
and there hanged by the neck. While still alive he was to be cut down,
castrated, and disemboweled. 'And you still living,' added the judge,
'your entrails are to be burnt before your eyes, your head to be cut
off, and your head and quarters to be disposed of at the pleasure of
the king's majesty.' The printer was overwhelmed with terror, and in
his great agony he cried to the judge again to intercede for him. The
heartless magistrate replied, 'I would not intercede for my own father
in this case.' The prisoner was removed and executed. His head and
limbs were set up over the gates of the city."
"That was in 1663," said Benjamin as he closed the account; "and,
though we have no record of another so fiendish affair, it is a fact
that within a few years some printers and editors in England have had
their ears cropped, others have been flogged publicly, and others
still put into the stocks and pillory. We have not come to that yet."
"Not quite," answered one of the club; "but the authorities who would
please the king and suppress liberty of the press will go as far as
they dare to go in that direction; depend on that. It becomes us to
vindicate our rights fearlessly, or we shall yet share the fate of
Gwyn."
"I do not propose to spike one of my guns," said James, who listened
to the last remarks with profound emotion. "We are right, and
Americans will support us. The _Courant_ was started for a purpose,
and we must not lose sight of it."
"Benjamin has run the paper to suit while you were in jail, so that I
think both of you together will satisfy us perfectly in the future,"
added another of the club. "I fully believe, with the rest of you,
that it is no time now to cringe before the authorities. A stand for
the right is more necessary now than ever before."
We should have stated before that, in the infancy of the _Courant_,
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu returned from Turkey with the remedy for the
small-pox--inoculation. This disease had prevailed fearfully in
Boston. When the town had but five or six thousand inhabitants, seven
hundred of them died of small-pox in six months. In 1721, when
Benjamin was in the printing office, and the population of the town
was twelve thousand, the number of deaths by small-pox was eight
hundred and fifty. Many persons attacked with it died within two or
three days, so that it was a terror to the people. Of course
inoculation was received with delight by many. Cotton Mather examined
its claims, and so did his father, Increase Mather; and both endorsed
it. But the _Courant_, for some reason, opposed it, and brought all
its resources of ridicule and sarcasm to make it appear ridiculous. A
writer in its columns called it the "minister's remedy," because the
clergy favored it. Week after week it denounced the method, and warned
the people. Finally, Increase Mather publicly called attention to the
scandalous sheet, and besought the people to crush it, lest the
judgments of God be brought down upon the land for its highhanded
wickedness.
That the treatment of James Franklin by the authorities was not
justified by thoughtful citizens in other parts of the country is
evident from the following extract from the _Philadelphia Mercury_:
"The injustice of imprisoning a man without a hearing must be apparent
to all. An indifferent person would judge from this conduct, that the
Assembly of Massachusetts are oppressors and bigots, who make religion
only an engine of destruction to the people. We pity the people who
are compelled to submit to the tyranny of priestcraft and hypocrisy."
Then followed a sarcastic postscript, over which the reader may smile:
"P.S. By private letter from Boston, we are informed, that the bakers
are under great apprehensions of being forbid baking any more bread,
unless they will submit to the Secretary as supervisor general and
weigher of the dough, before it is baked into bread and offered to
sale."
The closing sentence referred to the action of the Legislature in
enacting that Franklin should publish nothing more without first
submitting it to the Secretary of the Province and receiving his
endorsement--legislation that will be quoted in the next chapter.
Franklin continued to issue the _Courant_ after his imprisonment with
more plainness and exposure of public wrongs than he did before. For
several months he handled the governor and public officers severely,
never forgetting those ministers who supported the cause of the king
instead of the cause of New England. He little thought that he was
fighting a battle for the ages to come. From his day the press in our
country began to enjoy liberty. He began a conflict which did not end
until liberty of speech and press was proclaimed throughout the land.
Men have often contended for right, and started enterprises, the
results of which the divinest prophet could never have foretold. When
John Pounds, the poor Portsmouth shoemaker, with a passion for doing
good to those who needed it most, gathered a few street-arabs into his
shanty to teach them something good, while he hammered his leather and
mended shoes, he did not dream that he was inaugurating a benevolent
enterprise that would spread throughout the Christian world. But he
did, and to-day the fifteen millions of old and young in the Sabbath
schools of our Republic are but the growth and development he began in
his shop. In like manner, the Franklin brothers inaugurated a measure
that culminated in the complete freedom of the press.
[1] Parton's Life of Franklin, vol. i, p. 88.
XVI.
THE BOY EDITOR.
For six months the _Courant_ continued its attacks upon the
government, after the editor came out of prison. It took up also, the
inconsistencies of church members, and discussed them with great
plainness. But the number of the paper for Jan. 14, 1723, was too much
for aristocratic flesh and blood, and almost too much for blood that
was not aristocratic. The Council was incensed, and adopted the
following order:
"IN COUNCIL, Jan. 14, 1723.
"WHEREAS, The paper, called _The New England Courant_ of this day's
date, contains many passages in which the Holy Scriptures are
perverted, and the Civil Government, Ministers, and People of the
Province highly reflected on,
"_Ordered_, That William Tailer, Samuel Sewell, and Penn Townsend,
Esqrs., with such as the Honorable House of Representatives shall
join, be a committee to consider and report what is proper for the
Court to do thereon."
The House of Representatives concurred in the measure, and it was
rushed through, as measures are likely to be when the dander of
legislators is up, and the committee reported as follows:
"That James Franklin, the printer and publisher thereof, be strictly
forbidden by the Court to print or publish _The New England Courant_,
or any other pamphlet or paper of the like nature, except that it is
first supervised by the Secretary of the Province; and the Justices of
His Majesty's Sessions of the Peace for the County of Suffolk, at
their next adjournment, be directed to take sufficient bonds of the
said Franklin for twelve months' time."
As soon as the Council took this action, the _Courant_ club was called
together, and the whole matter canvassed.
"The next thing will be an order that no one of us shall have a pair
of breeches without permission from the Secretary of the Province,"
remarked one, sarcastically. "The Secretary has not brains enough to
pass judgment upon some of our articles, and he is too English to
judge rightly of New England necessities."
"We should appear smart, tugging our articles over to the Secretary
each week for his permission to print them," suggested James. "I shall
never do it as long as my name is James Franklin."
"Nor I," added one of the club.
"Nor I," another.
"Nor I," another still.
There was but one mind in the company; and all were disposed to fight
it out on the line of freedom of the press.
"But, do you notice," added one of the club, "that no one but James
Franklin is forbidden to publish the _Courant_? Some other person can
publish it."
"Sure enough, that is so," responded James, "and here is our way out
of the difficulty."
"Of course you can not publish it yourself," addressing James, "in
defiance of this order of the Council."
"Of course not; but Benjamin Franklin can do it, as he is not
forbidden. How would that do?"
"That can not be done, because he is only an apprentice," suggested a
former speaker. "They can prove that he is your apprentice readily."
"Well, I can meet that difficulty without any trouble," said James,
who was intent upon evading the order of the Court.
"Pray, tell us how? By changing the name of the paper?"
"Not by any means. Now is not the time to part with a name that the
magistrates and ministers are so much in love with."
"How, then, can you meet the difficulty?"
"Well, I can return his indenture, with his discharge upon the back of
it, and he can show it in case of necessity. At the same time he can
sign a new indenture that will be kept a secret."
"Capital!" exclaimed one; "I never thought of that. The measure is a
practical one, and I move that we reduce it to practice at once."
"I support it with all my heart, not only as practical, but
ingenious," added another. "It is honorable to meet the tyranny of the
Council with an innocent subterfuge like that."
All agreed to the plan, and adopted it enthusiastically.
"Benjamin Franklin, Editor of the _Courant_," exclaimed a member of
the club, rising from his seat and patting Benjamin on the shoulder.
"Don't that sound well, my boy? Rather a young fellow to have in
charge such an enterprise, but a match, I guess, for the General Court
of the Province."
"The youngest editor, proprietor, and publisher of a paper in the
whole land, no doubt," suggested another. "But it is as true here as
it is in other things, 'Old men for counsel, young men for war.' We
are at war now, and we do not want an editor who will cry peace, when
there is no peace."
"A free man, too," suggested another facetiously, "an apprentice no
longer, to be knocked about and treated as an underling. At the top,
with the laurels of manhood on the brow of sixteen!"
Benjamin had not spoken, but he had listened. Affairs had taken an
unexpected turn. In the morning he had no idea of becoming
editor-in-chief of the paper that made more stir in Boston than the
other two combined. The promotion rather startled him. Not that he
shrank from the responsibility; for he had no hesitation in assuming
that; but the promotion was wholly unexpected. The honors came upon
him suddenly, in a way he never dreamed of. It is not strange that he
was somewhat dumbfounded, though not confounded. He maintained
silence, because, in the circumstances, he could say nothing better
than silence.
The plan of James having been adopted, all hastened to carry out the
details. Benjamin received his indenture, with the endorsement that
constituted him a free man, and he was announced as the publisher of
the _Courant_, and as such his name appeared upon the paper, also as
editor.
In the next issue James inserted the following in the _Courant_:
"The late publisher of this paper, finding so many inconveniences
would arise, by his carrying the manuscripts and the public news to be
supervised by the Secretary, as to render his carrying it on
unprofitable, has entirely dropped the undertaking."
Benjamin inserted an amusing salutatory, as if the _Courant_ was
appearing before the public for the first time. It was as follows:
"Long has the press groaned in bringing forth a hateful brood of
pamphlets, malicious scribbles, and billingsgate ribaldry. No generous
and impartial person then can blame the present undertaking, which is
designed purely for the diversion and merriment of the reader. Pieces
of pleasantry and mirth have a secret charm in them to allay the heats
and tumults of our spirits, and to make a man forget his restless
resentment. The main design of this weekly paper will be to entertain
the town with the most comical and diverting incidents of human life,
which, in so large a place as Boston, will not fail of a universal
exemplification. Nor shall we be wanting to fill up these papers with
a grateful interspersion of more serious words, which may be drawn
from the most ludicrous and odd parts of life."
Pretty good for a boy of sixteen! Good sense, tact, humor, and
rhetoric combined in one brief paragraph! Not only the youngest editor
in 1723, but the youngest editor of a city paper from that day to
this, so far as we know. On the fact hangs a tale of the wonderful
powers of a boy who can occupy such a place, and fill it.
We have said that the _Courant_ of Jan. 14, 1723, was filled with
matter that exasperated officials of the Province. The reader will
want to know what some of those utterances were. We will copy a few:
"Religion is indeed the principal thing, but too much of it is worse
than none at all. The world abounds with knaves and villains; but, of
all knaves, the religious knave is the worst, and villainies acted
under the cloak of religion the most execrable. Moral honesty, though
it will not itself carry a man to heaven, yet I am sure there is no
going thither without it."
"But are there such men as these in thee, O New England? Heaven forbid
there should be any; but, alas, it is to be feared the number is not
small. '_Give me an honest man_,' say some, '_for all a religious
man_'; a distinction which I confess I never heard of before. The
whole country suffers for the villainies of a few such wolves in
sheep's clothing, and we are all represented as a pack of knaves and
hypocrites for their sakes."
"In old Time it was no disrespect for Men and Women to be called by
their own Names. _Adam_ was never called _Master_ Adam; we never heard
of Noah, _Esquire_, Lot, _Knight_ and _Baronet_, nor the _Right
Honorable_ Abraham, _Viscount_ Mesopotamia, _Baron_ of Canaan. No, no;
they were plain Men, honest Country Graziers, that took care of their
Families and their Flocks. _Moses_ was a great Prophet, and _Aaron_ a
priest of the Lord; but we never read of the _Reverend_ Moses, nor the
_Right Reverend Father in God_, Aaron, by Divine Providence, _Lord
Arch-Bishop_ of Israel. Thou never sawest _Madam_ Rebecca in the
Bible, _My Lady_ Rachel, nor _Mary_, tho' a Princess of the Blood
after the death of _Joseph_, called the _Princess Dowager_ of
Nazareth. No; plain _Rebecca, Rachel, Mary_, or the _Widow_ Mary, or
the like. It was no Incivility then to mention their naked Names as
they were expressed.
"Yet, one of our Club will undertake to prove, that tho' _Abraham_ was
not styled _Right Honorable_, yet he had the Title of _Lord_ given him
by his Wife _Sarah_, which he thinks entitles her to the Honour of _My
Lady_ Sarah; and _Rachel_, being married into the same Family, he
concludes that she may deserve the Title of _My Lady_ Rachel. But this
is but the Opinion of one Man; it was never put to vote in the
Society."
"On the whole, Friend James, we may conclude, that the
_Anti-Couranteers_ [opponents of the _Courant_] are a sort of
_Precisians_, who, mistaking Religion for the peculiar Whims of their
own distemp'rd Brain, are for cutting or stretching all Men to their
own Standard of Thinking. I wish Mr. Symmes' Character may secure him
from the Woes and Curses they are so free of dispensing among their
dissenting neighbours, who are so unfortunate as to discover a
Cheerfulness becoming Christianity."
It is not questioned that Benjamin wrote these paragraphs, among
others; and for keen satire they are very remarkable as the
composition of a boy of sixteen. At the present day they would be
regarded as quaint, able and truthful, without awakening opposition.
But, in 1723, no doubt there were tender consciences among the
official sycophants of the English Government, that made a just
application of these cutting words, so as to become exasperated and
bitter. Hence, their tyrannical and unjustifiable legislation.
Mr. Parton mentions a fact that should be noted here: "Until the
Revolution, the business of publishing newspapers in America was
carried on almost exclusively by postmasters. Newspapers went free of
postage in the colonies as late as 1758. Until that time, the
postmasters had not only the privilege of sending papers through the
mail free, but the still more valuable right of excluding from the
mail papers published by others. Accordingly, we find that nearly all
the pioneers of the press, in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, were
postmasters. When a postmaster lost his office he generally sold out
his newspaper, and a new postmaster soon bought or established one.
John Campbell, however, feeling himself aggrieved by his removal, did
not dispose of the _News-letter_ [first paper in this country]; which
induced his successor, William Brocker, to set up a paper of his own,
the _Boston Gazette_, which appeared in December, 1719. Mr. Brocker
expressly says, in his prospectus, that he started the new paper at
the request of several merchants, and others, who 'have been
_prevented_ from having their newspaper sent them by the post, ever
since Mr. Campbell was removed from being postmaster.'"[2]
It is a significant fact that, in 1758, newspapers ceased to be
carried free in the mails, and a charge of ninepence a year for each
fifty miles of carriage was assessed; and our Benjamin brought about
the change. He was then known as Deputy Postmaster General, and made
the change in the interest of the public welfare. We think that, at
the time, he must have recalled his tussle with the General Court,
when, at sixteen, he edited the _Courant_.
Benjamin continued in his brother's printing office eight months after
the occurrence just narrated, editor and publisher of the _Courant_.
His brother never run the paper again in his own name, and,
subsequently, he removed to Newport, R.I., where he established the
_Rhode Island Gazette_ in 1732.
Benjamin kept up his running fire against the truckling
representatives of the British government, including ministers who
were not outspoken against oppression and the censorship of the press.
The blade of his satire became brighter and keener, and the
circulation of the paper increased largely, showing that the portion
of the population having the true American spirit, were in sympathy
with the purpose of the paper. Mr. Sparks says of it:
"It touched with great freedom the vices and follies of the time. The
weapon of satire was used with an unsparing hand. Neither the
government nor the clergy escaped. Much caution was practised,
however, in regard to individuals, and names were seldom introduced.
There are some severe and humorous criticisms on the poets of the day,
which may be classed with the best specimens of this kind of
composition in the modern reviews. The humor sometimes degenerates
into coarseness, and the phraseology is often harsh; but, bating these
faults, the paper contains nothing, which in later times would have
been deemed reprehensible."
Of the action of the General Court, imprisoning James Franklin, Mr.
Sparks says: "He was sentenced by a vote of the Assembly, without any
specification of offensive passages, or any trial before a court of
justice. This was probably the first transaction, in the American
Colonies, relating to the freedom of the press; and it is not less
remarkable for the assumption of power on the part of the legislature,
than for their disregard of the first principles and established forms
of law."