appointed collector of the port of Boston in 1681, but had not been allowed
to act. He was the "messenger of death" to the hopes of the colony. The
deputies refused to appear in England and plead, and judgment was entered
up against them at last, in 1685, and the charter was abrogated. Charles
died, and the bitter and bigoted James II came to the throne in 1684. The
colonists then had rumors that Colonel Kirke, the fiercest hater of the
Nonconformists in England, was coming over as governor, which filled them
with dread. The colony now seemed to be at the mercy of the churchmen, or,
worse than that, of the papists, for such was James. Mr. Rawson, secretary
of the colony, about this time wrote, "Our condition is awful."
Mr. Joseph Dudley was appointed governor and acted for a short time, but
was succeeded by Sir Edmund Andros, who arrived December 19, 1686, with a
commission from James II, to take upon himself the absolute government
of all New England. Andros was supposed to be a bigoted papist, and he
certainly carried matters with a high hand; the poisoned chalice of
religious despotism, which these Pilgrims had commended to the lips of
Roger Williams, the Browns, Mrs. Hutchinson, Gorton, Clarke, and the
Quakers, was now offered to their own lips, and the draught was bitter.
First, the press was muzzled; then marriage was no longer free. The
minister Moody (1684) was imprisoned six months in New Hampshire for
refusing to administer the communion to Cranfield and others, according
to the manner and form set forth in the _Book of Common Prayer_. The
Congregational ministers were as mere laymen, and danger menaced public
worship and the meeting-houses. But this last extremity was saved them by
the necessity which James was under of securing the triumph of _his_ church
in Protestant England, the first step toward which was the proclamation
of religious toleration. This, of course, secured the colonists, and the
pilgrims were saved that fearful misery of being driven out from their
own cherished altars. Andros carried things with as high a hand in
Massachusetts as his master did in England; absolute subjection they both
insisted on. Besides the denial of political and religious rights, the
practice of arbitrary taxation was asserted by Andros, and all titles to
lands were questioned; in the brutal phrase of the time, it was declared
that "the calf died in the cow's belly"; that is, having no rights as a
state, they had none as individuals; so fees, fines, and expenditures
impoverished the people and enriched the officials. All seemed lost in
Massachusetts.
Andros went down to Hartford, in Connecticut, with his suite, and with
sixty troops took possession of the government there and demanded the
charter. Through the day (October 31, 1687) the authorities remonstrated
and postponed. When they met Andros again in the evening the people
collected, much excited. There seemed no relief. Their palladium, their
charter, was demanded, and before them stood Andros, with soldiers and
drawn swords, to compel his demand. There was then no hope, and the roll
of parchment--the charter, with the great royal seal upon it--was brought
forth and laid upon the table, in the midst of the excited people.
Suddenly, without warning, all lights were extinguished! There were
darkness and silence, followed by wonder, movement, and confusion. What
meant this very unparliamentary conduct, or was it a gust of wind which had
startled all? Lights were soon obtained, and then--
"Where is the charter?" was the question that went round the assembly.
"What means this?" cried Andros, in anger.
But no man knew where the charter had disappeared to; neither threats nor
persuasion brought it to light. What could Andros do? Clearly nothing, for
the authorities had done all that could be asked; they had produced the
charter in the presence of Andros, and now it had disappeared from his
presence. He had come upon a fool's errand, and some sharp Yankee (Captain
Wadsworth) had outwitted him. Where was the charter? Safely hidden in the
heart of the great oak, at Hartford, on the grounds of Samuel Wyllys. There
it remained beyond the reach of tyranny.
The tree known as the "Charter Oak" stood for over a century and a half
from that day. The Indians had always prayed that the tree might be spared;
they have our thanks.
Andros wrote on the last page of their records, _Finis_, and
disappeared--but that was not the end of Connecticut.
It was a dark time for liberty in New England, and a dark day for liberty
in Old England; for there James II and his unscrupulous ministers were
corruptly, grossly, and illegally trampling down the rights of manhood.
Andros was doing it in New England, and he found in Dudley, Stoughton,
Clark, and others, sons of New England, ready feet. In 1688 Randolph
writes, "We are as arbitrary as the great Turk"; which seems to have been
true. The hearts of the best men in both countries sank within them, and
they cried in their discouragement, "O Lord! how long!"
Thus matters stood when, during the spring of 1688-1689, faint rumors of
the landing of William, Prince of Orange, in England, came from Virginia.
Could this be true? It brought Andros up to Boston (April), where he gave
orders to have the soldiers ready against surprise.
Liberty is the most ardent wish of a brave and noble people, and is too
often betrayed by confidence in cultivated and designing and timid men.
Liberty was the wish of the people of New England; and for the want of
brave men then and since then they suffered.
When, on April 4th, John Winslow brought from Virginia the rumor of the
English Revolution and the landing of the Prince of Orange, it went through
their blood like the electric current, and thrilled from the city along the
byways into every home. Men got on their horses and rode onward to the next
house to carry the tidings that the popish King was down and William was
up, and that there was hope; through town and country the questions were
eagerly asked: "Shall we get our old charter? Shall we regain our rights?"
"What is there for us to do?" cried the people.
Andros put out a proclamation that all persons should be in readiness to
resist the forces of the Prince of Orange should they come. But the old
magistrates and leaders silently prayed for his success; the people, less
cautious and more determined, said to one another: "Let us do something.
Why not act?" and this went from mouth to mouth till their hatred of
Andros, and the remembrance to his dastardly oppressions, blazed into a
consuming fire.
"On April 18, 1689," wrote an onlooker, "I knew not anything of what was
intended until it was begun, yet being at the north end of the town, where
I saw boys running along the streets with clubs in their hands encouraging
one another to fight, I began to mistrust what was intended, and hasting
toward the Town Dock I soon saw men running for their arms; but before I
got to the Red Lion I was told that Captain George and the master of the
frigate were seized and secured in Mr. Colman's house at the North End; and
when I came to the Town Dock I understood that Bullivant and some others
were laid hold of, and then immediately the drums began to beat, and the
people hastened and ran, some with and some for arms," etc.
So it was begun, no one knew by whom; but men remembered yet their old
liberties and were ready to risk something to regain them; they remembered,
too, their present tyrants and longed to punish them. But in all this, men
of property took no part--they are always timid. It was the "mob" that
acted.
Governor Andros was at the fort with some soldiers, and sent for the
clergymen to come to him, who declined. The people and train-bands rallied
together at the Town House, where old Governor Bradstreet and some other
principal men met to consult as to what should be done. The King's frigate
in the harbor ran up her flags, and the lieutenant swore he would die
before she should be taken, and he opened her ports and ran out her guns;
but Captain George (prisoner in Boston) sent him word not to fire a shot,
for the people would tear him in pieces if he did. In the afternoon the
soldiers and people marched to the fort, took possession of a battery,
turned its guns upon the fort and demanded its surrender. They did not wait
for its surrender, but stormed in through the portholes, and Captain John
Nelson, a Boston merchant, cried out to Andros, "I demand your surrender."
Andros was surprised at the anger of an outraged people, and knew not what
to do, but at last gave up the fort, and was lodged prisoner in Mr. Usher's
house.
The next day he was forced to give up the castle in the harbor, and the
guns of the battery from the shore were brought to bear upon the frigate.
But the captain prayed that she might not be forced to surrender, because
all the officers and crew would lose their wages; so she was dismantled
for present security. All through the day people came pouring in from the
country, well armed and hot with rage against Andros and his confederates;
and the cooler men trembled lest some unnecessary violence might be done;
so Captain Fisher, of Dedham, led Andros by the collar of the coat back to
the fort for safety.
On the 20th Bradstreet and other leading men met, and formed a kind of
provisional council. They carefully abstained from resuming their old
charter, partly from fear and partly from doubt, and called upon the
towns to send up deputies. When these met, on May 22, 1689, forty out of
fifty-four were for "resuming," but a majority of the council opposed
it, and time was spent in disputes; but at last the old Governor and
magistrates accepted the control of affairs, though they would not consent
to resume the charter. Thus the moment for action passed, and the colony
lost that chance for reestablishing its old rights.
Rhode Island and Connecticut resumed their charters, which had never
been legally vacated. Mr. Threat was obliged to take again the office of
governor of Connecticut, when the amazing reports of the revolution and
seizure of the Governor in Massachusetts reached them. They issued loyal
addresses to William and Mary, in which they said: "Great was that day when
the Lord who sitteth upon the floods did divide his and your adversaries
like the waters of Jordan, and did begin to magnify you like Joshua, by the
deliverance of the English dominions from popery and slavery."
Andros escaped, but was apprehended at Rhode Island, and sent back to
Boston, and in February, 1689, with Dudley and some others, he was sent
away to England.
Increase Mather, the agent of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, with the aid of
friends in England, endeavored to gain the restoration of the old charter
from King William, but was unsuccessful; a new one was granted (1691),
which contained many of the old privileges; but the King would not grant
them the power of appointing their own governor; that power was reserved;
and appeals from the colony courts to England were allowed. The Governor
and the King both had a veto upon all colonial legislation. By it all
religions except the Roman Catholic were declared free, and Plymouth was
annexed to Massachusetts.
Thus two important elements of a free government were lost to
Massachusetts; and powers which had been exercised over fifty years were,
for nigh a hundred years, taken away. In Connecticut and Rhode Island they
continued to elect their own rulers and to exercise all the powers of
government. The new charter was brought over by Sir William Phipps, the new
governor appointed by the King, who arrived on May 14, 1692.
Thus ended the rule of the theocracy in Massachusetts, and from this time
forward the ministers and church-members possessed no more power than the
rest of the people.
%MASSACRE OF LACHINE%
A.D. 1689
FRANÇOIS XAVIER GARNEAU
Just after Count Frontenac's first administration of Canada (1672-1682),
when the colony of New France was under the rule of De la Barre and his
successor, the Marquis de Denonville, Montreal and its immediate vicinity
suffered from the most terrible and bloody of all the Indian massacres
of the colonial days. The hatred of the Five Nations for the French,
stimulated by the British colonists of New York, under its governor,
Colonel Dongan, was due to French forays on the Seneca tribes, and to
the capture and forwarding to the royal galleys in France of many of the
betrayed Iroquois chiefs. At this period the English on the seaboard began
to extend their trade into the interior of the continent and to divert
commerce from the St. Lawrence to the Hudson. This gave rise to keen
rivalries between the two European races, and led the English to take sides
with the Iroquois in their enmity to the French. The latter, at Governor
Denonville's instigation, sought to settle accounts summarily with the
Iroquois, believing that the tribes of the Five Nations could never be
conciliated, and that it was well to extirpate them at once. Soon the
Governor put his fell purpose into effect. With a force of two thousand
men, in a fleet of canoes, he entered the Seneca country by the Genesee
River, and for ten days ravaged the Iroquois homes and put many of them
cruelly to death. Returning by the Niagara River he erected and garrisoned
a fort at its mouth and then withdrew to Québec. A terrible revenge was
taken on the French colonists for these infamous acts, as the following
article by M. Garneau shows.
The situation of the colonists of New France during the critical era of
M. Denonville's administration was certainly anything but enviable. They
literally "dwelt in the midst of alarms," yet their steady courage in
facing perils, and their endurance of privations when unavoidable, were
worthy of admiration. A lively idea of what they had to resist or to
suffer may be found by reading the more particular parts of the Governor's
despatches to Paris. For instance, in one of these he wrote in reference to
the raids of the Iroquois: "The savages are just so many animals of prey,
scattered through a vast forest, whence they are ever ready to issue, to
raven and kill in the adjoining countries. After their ravages, to go
in pursuit of them is a constant but almost bootless task. They have no
settled place whither they can be traced with any certainty; they must be
watched everywhere, and long waited for, with fire-arms ready primed. Many
of their lurking-places could be reached only by blood-hounds or by other
savages as our trackers, but those in our service are few, and the native
allies we have are seldom trustworthy; they fear the enemy more than
they love us, and they dread, on their own selfish account, to drive the
Iroquois to extremity. It has been resolved, in the present strait, to
erect a fort in every seigniory, as a place of shelter for helpless people
and live-stock, at times when the open country is overrun with ravagers.
As matters now stand, the arable grounds lie wide apart, and are so begirt
with bush that every thicket around serves as a point for attack by a
savage foe; insomuch that an army, broken up into scattered posts, would be
needful to protect the cultivators of our cleared lands."[1]
[Footnote 1: Letter to M. Seignelai, August 10, 1688.]
Nevertheless, at one time hopes were entertained that more peaceful
times were coming. In effect, negotiations with the Five Nations were
recommenced; and the winter of 1687-1688 was passed in goings to and fro
between the colonial authorities and the leaders of the Iroquois, with whom
several conferences were holden. A correspondence, too, was maintained by
the Governor with Colonel Dongan at New York; the latter intimating in one
of his letters that he had formed a league of all the Iroquois tribes,
and put arms in their hands, to enable them to defend British colonial
territory against all comers.
The Iroquois confederation itself sent a deputation to Canada, which
was escorted as far as Lake St. François by twelve hundred warriors--a
significant demonstration enough. The envoys, after having put forward
their pretensions with much stateliness and yet more address, said that,
nevertheless, their people did not mean to press for all the advantages
they had the right and the power to demand. They intimated that they
were perfectly aware of the comparative weakness of the colony; that the
Iroquois could at any time burn the houses of the inhabitants, pillage
their stores, waste their crops, and afterward easily raze the forts. The
Governor-general, in reply to these--not quite unfounded--boastings and
arrogant assumptions, said that Colonel Dongan claimed the Iroquois as
English subjects, and admonished the deputies that, if such were the case,
then they must act according to his orders, which would necessarily be
pacific, France and England not now being at war; whereupon the deputies
responded, as others had done before, that the confederation formed an
independent power; that it had always resisted French as well as English
supremacy over its subjects; and that the coalesced Iroquois would be
neutral, or friends or else enemies to one or both, at discretion; "for we
have never been conquered by either of you," they said; adding that, as
they held their country immediately from God, they acknowledge no other
master.
It did not appear, however, that there was a perfect accordance among the
envoys on all points, for the deputies from Onnontaguez, the Onneyouths,
and Goyogouins agreed to a truce on conditions proposed by M. Denonville;
namely, that all the native allies of the French should be comprehended
in the treaty. They undertook that deputies [others than some of those
present?] should be sent from the Agniers and Tsonnouthouan cantons, who
were then to take part in concluding a treaty; that all hostilities should
cease on every side, and that the French should be allowed to revictual,
undisturbed, the fort of Cataracoui. The truce having been agreed to on
those bases, five of the Iroquois remained (one for each canton), as
hostages for its terms being observed faithfully. Notwithstanding this
precaution, several roving bands of Iroquois, not advertised, possibly, of
what was pending, continued to kill our people, burn their dwellings, and
slaughter live-stock in different parts of the colony; for example, at
St. François, at Sorel, at Contrecoeur, and at St. Ours. These outrages,
however, it must be owned, did not long continue, and roving corps of
savages, either singly or by concert, drew off from the invaded country and
allowed its harassed people a short breathing-time at least.
The native allies of the French, on the other hand, respected the truce
little more than the Iroquois. The Abenaquis invaded the Agniers canton,
and even penetrated to the English settlements, scalping several persons.
The Iroquois of the Sault and of La Montagne did the like; but the Hurons
of Michilimackinac, supposed to be those most averse to the war, did all
they could, and most successfully, too, to prevent a peace being signed.
While the negotiations were in progress, the "Machiavel of the wilderness,"
as Raynal designates a Huron chief, bearing the native name of Kondiarak,
but better known as Le Rat in the colonial annals, arrived at Frontenac
(Kingston), with a chosen band of his tribe, and became a means of
complicating yet more the difficulties of the crisis. He was the most
enterprising, brave, and best-informed chief in all North America; and, as
such, was one courted by the Governor in hopes of his becoming a valuable
auxiliary to the French, although at first one of their most formidable
enemies. He now came prepared to battle in their favor, and eager to
signalize himself in the service of his new masters. The time, however, as
we may well suppose, was not opportune, and he was informed that a treaty
with the Iroquois being far advanced, and their deputies on the way to
Montreal to conclude it, he would give umbrage to the Governor-general of
Canada should he persevere in the hostilities he had been already carrying
on.
The Rat was taken aback on hearing this to him unwelcome news, but took
care to hide his surprise and uttered no complaint. Yet was he mortally
offended that the French should have gone so far in the matter without the
concert of their native allies, and he at once resolved to punish them,
in his own case, for such a marked slight. He set out secretly with his
braves, laid an ambuscade near Famine Cove for the approaching deputation
of Iroquois, murdered several and made the others his prisoners. Having
done so, he secretly gloried in the act, afterward saying that he had
"killed the peace." Yet in dealing with the captives he put another and a
deceptive face on the matter; for, on courteously questioning them as to
the object of their journey, being told that they were peaceful envoys, he
affected great wonder, seeing that it was Denonville himself who had sent
him on purpose to waylay them!
To give seeming corroboration to his astounding assertions, he set the
survivors at liberty, retaining one only to replace one of his men who
was killed by the Iroquois in resisting the Hurons' attack. Leaving the
deputies to follow what course they thought fit, he hastened with his men
to Michilimackinac, where he presented his prisoner to M. Durantaye, who,
not as yet officially informed, perhaps, that a truce existed with the
Iroquois, consigned him to death, though he gave Durantaye assurance of who
he really was; but when the victim appealed to the Rat for confirmation of
his being an accredited envoy, that unscrupulous personage told him he must
be out of his mind to imagine such a thing! This human sacrifice offered
up, the Rat called upon an aged Iroquois, then and long previously a Huron
captive, to return to his compatriots and inform them from him that while
the French were making a show of peace-seeking, they were, underhand,
killing and making prisoners of their native antagonists.
This artifice, a manifestation of the diabolic nature of its author, had
too much of the success intended by it, for, although the Governor managed
to disculpate himself in the eyes of the more candid-minded Iroquois
leaders, yet there were great numbers of the people who could not be
disabused, as is usual in such cases, even among civilized races.
Nevertheless the enlightened few, who really were tired of the war, agreed
to send a second deputation to Canada; but when it was about to set out, a
special messenger arrived, sent by Andros, successor of Dongan, enjoining
the chiefs of the Iroquois confederation not to treat with the French
without the participation of his master, and announcing at the same time
that the King of Great Britain had taken the Iroquois nations under his
protection. Concurrently with this step, Andros wrote to Denonville that
the Iroquois territory was a dependency holden of the British, and that he
would not permit its people to treat upon those conditions already proposed
by Dongan.
This transaction took place in 1688; but before that year concluded,
Andros' "royal master" was himself superseded, and living an exile in
France.[1] Whether instructions sent from England previously warranted
the polity pursued by Andros or not, his injunctions had the effect of
instantly stopping the negotiations with the Iroquois, and prompting them
to recommence their vengeful hostilities. War between France and Britain
being proclaimed next year, the American colonists of the latter adopted
the Iroquois as their especial allies, in the ensuing contests with the
people of New France.
[Footnote 1: In 1688 Andros was appointed Governor of New York and New
England. The appointment of this tyrant, and the annexation of the
colony to the neighboring ones, were measures particularly odious to the
people.--ED.]