_BOSTON MOBS AND THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION._
After the adoption in Massachusetts of Patrick Henry's resolves, the
people, brooding over the injuries which Adams made them believe they
were receiving under the Stamp Act, became fiercer in temper. Open
treason was talked, and many of the addresses to the Governor, composed
by Adams, were models of grave and studied insolence. The rough
population which abounded about the wharves and shipyards grew riotous,
and, with the usual indiscrimination of mobs, was not slow to lift its
hands against even the best friends of the people. "Mob law is a crime,
and those who engage in mobs are criminals." This is a fundamental axiom
of orderly government that cannot be denied.
The first great riot was in anticipation of the arrival of the stamps.
On the morning of August 14, 1765, there appeared, at what is now a
corner of Washington and Essex streets, two effigies, hanging on an elm
tree, representing Andrew Oliver, the stamp agent, and Lord Bute, the
former prime minister. In the evening these images were carried as far
as Kilby street, where there was a new unfinished government building,
wrongly supposed to have been erected for use as a stamp office. This
the mob completely demolished, and, taking portions of its wood-work
with them, they proceeded to Fort Hill, where a bonfire was made in
front of the house of Mr. Oliver, burning the effigy of Lord Bute there,
and committing gross outrages on Oliver's premises, which were plundered
and wrecked.
A few nights later riots recommenced with redoubled fury, the rioters
turning their attention to the house of Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson,
who was also chief justice, and kinsman of Oliver. Hutchinson was not
only the second person in rank in the colony, but was also a man who had
personal claims of the highest kind upon his countrymen. He was an
American, a member of one of the oldest colonial families, and, in a
country where literary enterprise was very uncommon, he had devoted a
great part of his life to investigating the history of his native
province. His rare abilities, his stainless private character, and his
great charm of manner, were universally recognized. He had at one time
been one of the most popular men in the colony, and although Hutchinson
was opposed to the Stamp Act, the determined impartiality with which, as
Chief Justice, he upheld the law, soon made him obnoxious to the mob.
[Illustration: ANDREW OLIVER, STAMP COLLECTOR ATTACKED BY THE MOB.
His beautiful mansion on Oliver street, Fort Hill, was wrecked and he
narrowly escaped with his life.]
When the mob surrounded his house in Garden Court street, they called
for him to appear on his balcony, to give an account of himself as to
the Stamp Act. He barred the doors and windows and remained within. One
of his neighbors, alarmed, no doubt, as to the safety of his own
property, told the mob that he had seen Hutchinson drive out just at
nightfall, and that he had gone to spend the night at his country house
at Milton. On hearing this the mob dispersed, having done no other
damage than the breaking of windows.
The popular fury had now become so ungovernable and perilous that
Governor Bernard took refuge in the Castle, leaving Hutchinson to bear
the brunt of this vehement hostility. Shortly after the governor's
retreat, on the 26th of August, occurred a riot as disgraceful as any on
record on either side of the Atlantic. It commenced at dusk with a
bonfire on King street. One of the fire-wards attempted to extinguish
it, but he was driven from the ground by a heavy blow from one of the
mob which had assembled. The fire was doubtless kindled as a signal for
the assembling of a ruffianly body of disguised men, armed with clubs
and staves. They first went to the house of the register of the
admiralty court, broke into his office in the lower story, and fed the
fire hard by with the public archives in his keeping, and with all his
own private papers. Next they went to the house of the comptroller of
customs in Hanover street, tore down his fence, broke his windows,
demolished his furniture, stole his money, scattered his papers, and
availed themselves of the wine in his cellar as a potent stimulant to
greater excesses.
They then proceeded to Hutchinson's house, the finest and most costly in
Boston. He had barely time to escape with his family, otherwise murder
would no doubt have put a climax to the criminal orgies of the night.
The rioters hewed down the doors with broad axes, destroyed or stole
everything of value, including important historical data which he had
spent years in collecting, papers which, if preserved to his countrymen,
would be worth many times their weight in gold; and still further
maddened by the contents of the cellar, the incendiary crowd broke up
the roof and commenced tearing down the wood-work of the mansion.
There exists competent evidence that the municipal authorities had
timely notice of the pendency of this riot. They held a town meeting
next day, denounced the rioters by unanimous vote, in which many who had
been foremost in the affair gave assent to their own condemnation, but
nothing was done towards punishing the perpetrators of the outrages, and
it was evident that the prevailing feeling was with the rioters. Those
who were arrested and committed for trial were released by a formidable
body of sympathizers, undoubtedly fellow criminals, who went by night to
the jail, forced the jailer to deliver up the keys, and released the
culprits.
The Custom House was selected for assault and pillage on the following
night. The collector somehow gained information of this purpose. He had
in his custody about four thousand pounds in specie, which could not be
removed so secretly as to elude the espionage of eyes intent on rapine
and plunder. The governor, at the urgent demand of the collector,
called out the cadets, who constituted his special guard. The mob
assembled. The commanding officers addressed them, first with
persuasion, then with threats, but in vain. Driven to extremity he
ordered his company to prime and load, and then begged the rioters to
retire. They remained immovable until the order was given to "aim," when
a hurried retreat of the tumultuous rabble ensued.
There were, subsequently, various public demonstrations of a disorderly
character; effigies of unpopular members of the home and provincial
governments were hanged and burned, and there were frequent displays of
violent hostility to the administration; but it was not till June, 1768,
that there was another dangerous and destructive riot. In this there
cannot be the slightest doubt that the mob had on their side as little
moral justification as legal right. The sloop "Liberty," belonging to
John Hancock, a leading merchant of the patriot party, arrived at
Boston, laden with wine from Madeira, and a custom-house officer went on
board to inspect the cargo. He was seized by the crew and detained for
several hours, while the cargo was landed, and a few pipes of wine were
entered on oath at the Custom House as if they had been the whole. On
the liberation of the customs' officers the vessel was seized for a
false entry, and in order to prevent the possibility of a rescue it was
removed from the wharf to the protection of the guns of a man of war. A
mob was speedily collected, and as the rabble could not get possession
of the sloop, they attacked the revenue officers for doing their duty in
properly seizing the vessel for false entry and smuggling. The
collector, his son, and two inspectors, received the most barbarous
treatment, were badly bruised and wounded, and hardly escaped with their
lives. The mob next went to the house of the inspector-general, and to
that of the comptroller of customs, and broke their windows. They then
dragged the collector's boat to the Common and burned it there.
When we consider the lawless condition of Boston, there cannot be any
question that Governor Bernard was fully authorized to seek the presence
of troops. The crown officers were in a rightful possession of their
offices, and it would have been cowardly for them to desert their posts
and sail for England, and thus to leave anarchy behind them. Meanwhile
their lives were in peril, and they had an unquestionable right to
demand competent protection. This they could have only by sending out of
the province for it. The colonial militia could not be relied upon, for
the mob must have been largely represented in its ranks. Nor could
dependence be placed on the cadets, for Hancock, in whose behalf the
last great riot had been perpetrated, was an officer of that corps. The
only recourse was to the importation of royal troops--a measure which
legal modes of remonstrance by patriots worthy of the name would never
have rendered necessary or justifiable.
Two regiments, the 14th and 29th, of about five hundred men each,
arrived on Sept. 28, 1768. These soldiers were, of course, a burden and
annoyance. They could not have been otherwise. Individually they were
not gentlemen, and they could not have been expected to be so. Yet had
their presence been desired or welcome, there is no reason to suppose
that there would have been any unpleasant collision with them.
The first token of resentment on the part of the populace occurred
eleven days after their arrival. The colonel of one of the regiments had
ordered a guard-house to be built on the Neck. The site was visited in
the night by a mob, who tore down the frame of the building and cut it
in pieces, so that no part of it could be put to further use. From that
time on there were perpetual quarrels and brisk interchanges of
contumely, abuse, and insult between the soldiers and the inhabitants,
in which gangs of ropemakers bore a prominent part. There was
undoubtedly no lack of ill-blood on either side, but, after patiently
reading the contemporary record of what took place, we are inclined to
adopt the statement of Samuel G. Drake, whose intense loyalty as a
loving citizen of Boston no one can question, and who writes "That
outrages were committed by the soldiers is no doubt true; but these
outrages were exaggerated, and they probably, in nine cases out of ten,
were the abused party."[29]
[29] "History of Boston," Samuel T. Drake, page 778.
Passing over intervening dissensions and tumults, we now come to the
so-called "Boston Massacre," on the 5th of March, 1770, an occasion on
which loss of life was inevitable, and the only question was whether it
should be among the soldiers or their assailants. The riot was evidently
predetermined, as one of the bells was rung about eight o'clock, and
immediately afterwards bands of men, with clubs, appeared upon the
streets. Early in the evening there had been some interchange of
hostilities, chiefly verbal, between the soldiers and town people, but
an officer had ordered his men into the barrack-yard, and closed the
gate. The "main guard," for that day's duty, was from the 29th regiment.
About nine o'clock a solitary sentinel in front of the custom-house on
King street, now known as State street, was assailed by a party of men
and boys, who pelted him with lumps of ice and coal, and threatened him
with their clubs. Being forbidden by the rules of the service to quit
his post, he called upon the "main guard," whose station was within
hearing. A corporal and seven soldiers were sent to his relief. They
were followed by Captain Preston, who said, "I will go there myself to
see that they do no mischief." By that time the crowd had become a large
one, intensely angry, and determined on violence. The mob supposed the
soldiers were helpless and harmless; that they were not permitted to
fire unless ordered by a magistrate. The rioters repeatedly challenged
the soldiers to fire if they dared, and the torrent of coarse and
profane abuse poured upon the soldiers is astonishing even in its echoes
across the century, and would furnish material for an appropriate
inscription on the Attucks monument. The soldiers stood on the defensive
while their lives were endangered by missiles, and till the crowd closed
upon them in a hand-to-hand conflict. The leader of the assault was
"Crispus Attucks," a half Indian and half negro, who raised the
blood-curdling war-whoop, the only legacy save his Indian surname and
his strength and ferocity, that he is known to have received from his
savage ancestry. He knocked down one of the soldiers, got possession of
his musket, and would, no doubt, have killed him instantly had not the
soldiers fired at that moment and killed Attucks and two other men, two
more being fatally wounded. There is no evidence that Captain Preston
ordered the firing, though if he did he certainly deserved no blame, as
the shooting was, for the soldiers, the only means of defence. There is
no doubt that the mobs on these occasions were set in movement and
directed by some persons of higher rank and larger views of mischief
than themselves.
Gordon, the historian of the American Revolution, informs us that the
mob was addressed, in the street, before the firing, by a tall, large
man, in a red cloak and white wig, and after listening to what he had to
offer in the space of three or four minutes, they huzza for the "main
guard" and say, "We will do for the soldiers." He also said, "But from
the character, principles, and policies of certain persons among the
leaders of the opposition, it may be feared that they had no objection
to a recounter that by occasioning the death of a few might eventually
clear the place of the two regiments."
This avowal, which, coming from such a source, has all the weight of
premeditation, chills us with its deliberate candor, and begets
reflections on the desperate means resorted to by some of the leaders of
the populace in those trying times, which historians generally have
shrunk from suggesting.
Hutchinson fulfilled at this time, with complete adequacy, the functions
of chief magistrate. He was at once in the street in imminent danger of
having his brains dashed out,[30] expostulating, entreating, that order
might be observed. His prompt arrest of Preston and the squad which had
done the killing was his full duty, and it is to the credit of the
troops that the officer and his men, in the midst of the exasperation,
gave themselves quietly into the hands of the law.
[30] "Life of Thomas Hutchinson," page 162.
In the famous scenes which followed, the next day, Samuel Adams and
other leading agitators, as representatives of the people, rushed into
the presence of Hutchinson, and rather commanded than asked for the
removal of the troops. Hutchinson hesitated. He was not yet
governor--Bernard was in England. The embarrassment of the situation for
the chief magistrate was really appalling. He knew that their removal
would, under the circumstances, be a great humiliation to the government
and a great encouragement to the mob. On the other hand, if the soldiers
remained it was only too probable that in a few hours the streets of
Boston would run with blood. He consulted the council, and found, as
usual, an echo of the public voice. He then yielded, and the troops were
sent to Fort William, on Castle Island, three miles from the town.
Although, from that day to this, it has been held that the British
uniform was driven with ignominy out of the streets of Boston, they
deserve no discredit for their submission to the Governor and his
council. They were two weak regiments, together amounting to not more
than eight hundred effective men, isolated in a populous province which
hated them, and were in great peril of life. It does not appear that
they showed the white feather at all, but rather that they were
law-abiding. Probably few organizations in the British army have a
record more honorable. The 14th was with William III. in Flanders; it
formed, too, one of the squares of Waterloo, breasting for hours the
charges of the French cuirassiers until it had nearly melted away. The
29th was with Marlboro at Ramillies, and with Wellington in the
Peninsula; it bore a heavy part, as may be read in Napier, in wresting
Spain from the grasp of Napoleon. To fight it out with the mob would no
doubt have been far easier and pleasanter than to yield; for brave
soldiers to forbear is harder than to fight, and one may be sure that in
the long history of those regiments few experiences more trying came to
pass than those of the Boston streets.
Few things contributed more to commence the American Revolution than
this unfortunate affray. Skillful agitators perceived the advantage it
gave them, and the most fantastic exaggerations were dexterously
diffused. It, however, had a sequel which is extremely creditable to the
citizens of Boston.
It was determined to try the soldiers for their lives, and public
feeling ran so fiercely against them that it seemed as if their fate was
sealed. The trial, however, was delayed for seven months till the
excitement had in some degree subsided. Captain Preston very judiciously
appealed to John Adams, who was rapidly rising to the first place among
the lawyers and the popular party of Boston, to undertake his defence.
Adams knew well how much he was risking by espousing so unpopular a
cause, but he knew also his professional duty, and though violently
opposed to the British Government, he was an eminently honest, brave,
and humane man. In conjunction with Josiah Quincy, a young lawyer who
was also of the popular party, he undertook the invidious task, and he
discharged it with consummate ability. Three years afterwards he wrote
in his diary: "The part I took in defence of Capt. Preston and the
soldiers procured me anxiety and obloquy enough. It was, however, one of
the most gallant, generous, manly, and disinterested acts of my whole
life, and one of the best pieces of service I ever rendered my country.
Judgment of death against those soldiers would have been as foul a stain
upon this country as the execution of the Quakers or witches, anciently.
As the evidence was, the verdict of the jury was exactly right."
These noble words and his actions in this matter are sufficient alone to
prove that John Adams was a fit successor to President Washington. He
was entirely just in the estimate he put upon his conduct in these frank
terms. His defence of the soldiers was one of the most courageous acts
that a thoroughly manly man performed, and his summing up of the matter
just quoted, is perfectly accurate. If John Adams showed himself here a
man of sense and a hero, as much cannot be said of his cousin, Samuel
Adams, who undoubtedly was one of the leaders who incited the mob to
attack the soldiers, as hinted at by Gordon. And, again, in the
vindictive persecution which followed, in the attempt to arouse in
England and America indignation against the soldiers, by documents based
on evidence hastily collected in advance of the trial, from wholly
unreliable witnesses, and in the attempt to precipitate the trial while
passion was still hot, the misbehavior of the people was grave. In all
this no leader was more eager than Samuel Adams, and in no time in his
career, probably, does he more plainly lay himself open to the charge of
being a reckless demagogue, a mere mob-leader, than at this moment.
Captain Preston and six of the soldiers, who were tried for murder, were
acquitted; two of the soldiers, convicted of manslaughter, were branded
on the hand and then released. The most important testimony in the case
was that of the celebrated surgeon, John Jeffries, who attended Patrick
Carr, an Irishman, fatally wounded in the affray. It is as follows: "He
said he saw many things thrown at the sentry; he believed they were
oyster shells and ice; he heard the people huzza every time they heard
anything strike that sounded hard. He then saw some soldiers going down
towards the custom-house; he saw the people pelt them as they went
along. I asked him whether he thought the soldiers would fire; he said
he thought the soldiers would have fired long before. I then asked him
if he thought the soldiers were abused a great deal; he said he thought
they were. I asked him whether he thought the soldiers would have been
hurt if they had not fired; he said he really thought they would, for he
heard many voices cry out, 'Kill them!' I asked him, meaning to close
all, whether he thought they fired in self-defence or on purpose to
destroy the people; he said he really thought they did fire to defend
themselves; that he did not blame the man, whoever he was, that shot
him. He told me he was a native of Ireland; that he had frequently seen
mobs, and soldiers called to quell them. Whenever he mentioned that, he
called himself a fool; that he might have known better; that he had seen
soldiers often fire on people in Ireland, but had never in his life seen
them bear so much before they fired."
John Adams, in his plea in defence of the soldiers, said: "We have been
entertained with a great variety of phrases to avoid calling this sort
of people a mob. Some called them shavers, some called them geniuses.
The plain English is, they were probably a motley rabble of saucy boys,
negroes, mulattoes, Irish teagues, and outlandish Jack-tars, and why we
should scruple to call such a set of people a mob, I can't conceive,
unless the name is too respectable for them."
Chief-Justice Lynde, eminent for his judicial integrity and
impartiality, said on the announcement of the verdict: "Happy am I to
find, after much strict examination, the conduct of the prisoners
appears in so fair a light, yet I feel myself deeply affected that this
affair turns out so much to the disgrace of every person concerned
against them, and so much to the shame of the town in general."
In 1887, at the instigation of John Boyle O'Reilly and the negroes of
Boston, the Legislature passed a bill authorizing the expenditure of
$10,000 for the purpose of erecting a monument to the memory of the
"victims of the Boston Massacre." The monument was erected on Boston
Common, notwithstanding the fact that the Massachusetts Historical
Society, and the New England Historic Genealogical Society, voted
unanimously against it. "That it was a waste of public money, that the
affray was occasioned by the brutal and revengeful attack of reckless
roughs upon the soldiers, while on duty, who had not the civilian's
privilege of retreating, but were obliged to contend against great odds,
and used their arms only in the last extremity; that the killed were
rioters and not patriots, and that a jury of Boston citizens had
acquitted the soldiers." A joint committee, composed of members of both
societies, presented the resolutions to Governor Ames, and requested him
to veto the bill. He admitted that "the monument ought not to be
erected, but if he vetoed the bill it would _cost the Republican party
the colored vote_." When the monument was erected and uncovered, it
presented such an indecent appearance that the City Council immediately
voted $250 for a new capstone. It now represents an historical lie, and
is a sad commentary on the intelligence and art taste of the citizens of
Boston. To be sure monuments of stone will not avail to perpetuate an
error of history, as witness the monument erected to commemorate the
Great Fire of London. The inscription on that monument, embodying a
gross perversion of history, was effaced in 1831, after it had stood
there one hundred and fifty years, but the just resentment, the
ill-feeling, the grief and shame which it engendered during that period,
had been evils of incalculable magnitude. The time will surely come when
the monument on Boston Common will be removed for the same reason.
On the 18th of March, 1766, the Stamp Act was repealed. It had remained
in force but one year, and was then repealed in an effort to pacify the
colonists. A duty was placed on tea and other imports which the
colonists had always admitted to be a valid act of the Parliament.
Whatever might be said of the Stamp Act, the tea duty was certainly not
a real grievance to Americans, for Parliament had relieved the colonists
of a duty of 12d. in the pound which had hitherto been levied in
England, and the colonists were only asked, in compensation, to pay a
duty of 3d. in the pound on arrival of the tea in America. The measure,
therefore, was not an act of oppression, but of relief, making the price
of tea in the colonies positively cheaper by 9d. per pound than it had
been before. But the turbulent spirits were not to be satisfied so
easily. They organized an immense boycott against British goods and
commercial intercourse with England, and appointed vigilance committees
in many communities to see that the boycott was rigidly enforced.
Hutchinson, in describing them, says: "In this Province the faction is
headed by the lowest, dirtiest, and most abject part of the community,
and so absurdly do the Council and House of Representatives reason, that
they justify this anarchy, the worst of tyranny, as necessary to remove
a single instance of what they call oppression; they have persecuted my
sons with peculiar pleasure." August 26, 1770, he wrote to William
Parker, of Portsmouth: "You certainly think right when you think Boston
people are run mad. The frenzy was not higher when they banished my
pious great-grandmother, when they hanged the Quakers, when they
afterwards hanged the poor innocent witches, when they were carried away
with a Land Bank, or when they all turned "New Lights," than the
political frenzy has been for a twelve-month past."[31]
[31] "Life of Hutchinson," page 195.
In December, 1773, three ships laden with tea, private property of an
innocent corporation, arrived at Boston, and on the 16th of that month,
forty or fifty men, disguised as Mohawk Indians, under the direction of
Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and others, boarded the vessels, posted
sentinels to keep all agents of authority off at a distance, and flung
the three cargoes, consisting of three hundred and forty-two chests,
into the harbor. How can we, law-abiding citizens, applaud the "Boston
Tea Party" and condemn the high-handed conduct of strike-leaders of the
present time? In this transaction some respectable men were engaged, and
their posterity affects to be proud of it. But they were not proud of it
at the time. In their disguise as Indians they were not recognized, and
the few well-known names among them were not divulged till the rebellion
became a successful revolution. It probably made no "patriots." We have
proof that it afterwards turned the scales against the patriot cause
with some who had sympathized with it and taken part in it.
Looking back to those times during later years, John Adams wrote: "The
poor people themselves, who, by _secret manoeuvres_, _are excited to
insurrection_, are seldom aware of the purposes for which they are set
in motion or of consequences which may happen to themselves; and _when
once heated and in full career_, _they can neither manage themselves nor
be managed by others_."
[Illustration: BOSTONIANS PAYING THE EXCISEMAN, OR TARRING AND
FEATHERING.
A cartoon published in London in 1771, showing how the authority of the
government was wholly disregarded in Boston.]
The illegal seizure of the tea was in a certain sense parallel to the
so-called "respectable" mob which on the 11th of August, 1834, destroyed
the Charlestown convent, and, a year later, nearly killed Garrison and
made the jail his only safe place of refuge. Had slavery triumphed, that
mob would at this day be the object and the subject of popular
glorification; every man who belonged to it, who was present abetting
and encouraging it, would claim his share of the glory, and a roll of
honor would have been handed down for a centennial celebration in which
every slaveholder in the land would have borne a part. But now that
slavery is dead, and the statue of Garrison has its place in the
fashionable avenue of Boston, there is no longer any merit in the
endeavor to buttress the fallen cause. Had the Revolution failed, the
disgrace of the men who threw the tea overboard would never have been
removed, and the best that history could say of them would be that, like
the Attucks mob, they were enthusiasts without reason.
John Hancock, one of the principal leaders of the Tea Party Mob, and the
owner of the sloop "Liberty," which was seized for smuggling, and later
the first to sign the Declaration of Independence, inherited L70,000
from his uncle, who had made a large part of it by importing from the
Dutch island of St. Eustacia great quantities of tea, in molasses
hogsheads, and, by the importation of a few chests from England, had
freed the rest from suspicion, and not having been found out, had borne
the reputation of a "fair trader." Partly by inattention to his private
affairs, and partly from want of sound judgment, John Hancock became
greatly involved and distressed, and his estate was lost with much
greater rapidity than it had been acquired by his uncle.[32]
[32] His. Mass. Bay, page 207.
John Adams had very positive opinions concerning the mobs of the
Revolution. In a letter to his wife he says:
"I am engaged in a famous cause. The cause of King of Scarborough
_versus_ a mob that broke into his house and rifled his papers and
terrified him, his wife, children and servants, in the night. The terror
and distress, the distraction and horror of this family, cannot be
described in words, or painted upon canvas. It is enough to move a
statue, to melt a heart of stone, to read the story. A mind susceptible
of the feelings of humanity, a heart which can be touched with
sensibility for human misery and wretchedness, must relent, must burn
with resentment and indignation at such outrageous injuries. These
private mobs I do and will detest."[33]
[33] Letters of John Adams to his wife, Vol. I, pages 12-13.
Concerning the Loyalists, he says: "A notion prevails among all parties
that it is politest and genteelest to be on the side of the
administration, that the better sort, the wiser few, are on one side,
and that the multitude, the vulgar, the herd, the rabble, the mob, only
are on the other."[34]
[34] Letters of John Adams to his wife, Vol. I., page 12.
As regards his own actions towards the Loyalists, he writes in his later
years as follows:
"Nothing could be more false and injurious to me than the imputation of
any sanguinary zeal against the Tories, for I can truly declare that
through the whole Revolution, and from that time to this, I never
committed one act of severity against the Tories."[35]
[35] Diary of John Adams, page 413.
At the time of the shedding of the first blood at Lexington, Hancock was
respondent, in the admiralty court, in suits of the crown to recover
nearly half a million of dollars, as penalties alleged to have been
incurred for violation of the statute-book. It was fit that he should
be the first to affix his name to an instrument which, if made good,
would save him from financial ruin.
One-fourth of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were bred
to trade or to the command of ships, and more than one of them was
branded with the epithet of "smuggler."[36]
[36] Sabine. Vol. I., page 13.
In 1773 John Hancock was elected treasurer of Harvard college. "In this
they considered their patriotism more than their prudence." The amount
of college funds paid over to him was upwards of fifteen thousand and
four hundred pounds, and, like his friend, Samuel Adams, he, too, proved
to be a defaulter. For twenty years the corporation begged and entreated
him to make restitution. They threatened to prosecute him and also to
put his bond in suit, as Adams' was, but it was all of no avail. He
turned a deaf ear to their entreaties, and it was only after his death,
in 1793, that his heirs made restitution to the college, when a
settlement was made, in 1795, in which the college lost five hundred and
twenty-six dollars interest.
Josiah Quincy, the president of Harvard college, in referring to this
matter, says:
"From respect to the high rank which John Hancock attained among the
patriots of the American Revolution, it would have been grateful to pass
over in silence the extraordinary course he pursued in his official
relation to Harvard college, had truth and the fidelity of history
permitted. But justice to a public institution which he essentially
embarrassed during a period of nearly twenty years, and also to the
memory of those whom he made to feel and to suffer, requires that these
records of unquestionable facts which at the time they occurred were the
cause of calumny and censure to honorable men, actuated in this measure
solely by a sense of official fidelity, should not be omitted. In
republics, popularity is the form of power most apt to corrupt its
possessor and to tempt him, for party or personal interests, to trample
on right to set principle at defiance. History has no higher or more
imperative duty to perform than, by an unyielding fidelity, to impress
this class of men with the apprehension that although through fear or
favor they may escape animadversion of contemporaries, there awaits them
in her impartial record, the retribution of truth."[37]
[37] "History of Harvard University," by Josiah Quincy, Vol. II., pp.
182-209.
The action of the tea mob was the culmination of mob violence in Boston.
It brought the king and parliament to decide that their rebellious
subjects in Boston must be subdued by force of arms, and that mob
violence should cease. General Thomas Gage was to have at his command
four regiments and a powerful fleet. He arrived at Boston, May 13, 1774,
and was appointed to supersede Governor Thomas Hutchinson, as governor,
who had succeeded Governor Sir Francis Bernard in 1771. General Gage was
now in the prime of life. He had served with great credit under several
commanders, at Fontenoy and Culloden, and had fought with Washington,
under Braddock, at Monongahela, where he was severely wounded, and
carried a musket ball in his side for the remainder of his life as a
memento of that fatal battle. An intimacy then existed between him and
Washington, which was maintained afterwards by a friendly
correspondence, and which twenty years later ended regretfully when they
appeared, opposed to each other, at the head of contending armies, the
one obeying the commands of his sovereign and the other upholding the
cause of his people. How many cases similar to this occurred, eighty-six
years later, when brother officers in arms faced each other with hostile
forces, and friendship and brotherly love were changed to deadly hatred.
The claim has been set up by American historians, and accepted as true
by those of Great Britain, that hostilities were commenced at Lexington
and by the British commander. This is not so. The first act of
hostilities was the attack upon the government post of Fort William and
Mary at Newcastle, in Portsmouth harbor, New Hampshire. The attack was
deliberately planned by the disunion leaders, and executed by armed and
disciplined forces mustered by them for that purpose.[38] The fort
contained large quantities of government arms and ammunition, and being
garrisoned by but a corporal's guard, it was too tempting a prize to be
overlooked by Samuel Adams and his colleagues.
Sir John Wentworth, governor of New Hampshire, tells us that the raiding
party was openly collected by beat of drum in the streets of Portsmouth,
and that, being apprised of their intent to attack a government fort, he
sent the chief justice to warn them that such an act "was short of
rebellion," and entreated them not to undertake it, "but all to no
purpose." They embarked in three boats, sailed to the fortress and
"forced an entrance in spite of Captain Cochrane, the commander, who
defended it as long as he could. They then secured the captain
triumphantly, gave three cheers, and hauled down the king's colors."[38]
[38] Letter of Governor Wentworth, New Eng. His. Gen. Reg., 1869, page
274.
Thomas Coffin Amory, in his "Military Service of General Sullivan," says
(p. 295) that "the raiding force consisted of men whom Sullivan had been
drilling for several months; that they captured 97 kegs of powder and a
quantity of small ammunition which were used against the British at
Bunker Hill."
The attack on this fort is worthy of far more consideration than has
been given to it, for not only did it occur prior to the conflict at
Concord, but was the direct cause of that conflict. It was as much the
commencement of the Revolutionary war as was the attack on Fort Sumpter
by the disunionists, in 1861, the commencement of the Civil War, and had
precisely the same effect in each case. When the news reached London
that a government fort had been stormed by an organized force, its
garrison made prisoners and the flag of the empire torn down, the
ministers seem to have become convinced that it was the determination of
the colonists to make war upon the government. To tolerate such a
proceeding would be a confession that all law and authority was at an
end. Some vindication of that authority must be attempted. An order was
dispatched to General Gage to retake the munitions that had been seized
by the disunion forces, and any other found stored that might be used
for attacking the government troops; surely a very mild measure of
reprisal. It was in obedience to this order that the expedition was
dispatched to Concord, that brought about the collision between the
British and colonial troops and the so-called "Battle of Lexingon."
In Rhode Island, a revenue outrage of more than common importance
occurred at this time. A small schooner named the Gaspee, in the
government service, with a crew of some 25 sailors, commanded by
Lieutenant Duddingston, while pursuing a suspected smuggler on June 6,
1772, ran aground on a sand-bar near Providence, and the ship which had
escaped brought the news to that town. Soon after a drum was beat
through the streets, and all persons who were disposed to assist in the
destruction of the king's ship were summoned to meet at the home of a
prominent citizen. There appears to have been no concealment or
disguise, and shortly after 10 at night eight boats, full of armed men,
started with muffled oars on the expedition. They reached the stranded
vessel in the deep darkness of the early morning. Twice the sentinel on
board vainly hailed them, when Duddingston himself appeared in his shirt
upon the gunwale and asked who it was that approached. The leader of the
party answered with a profusion of oaths that he was the sheriff of the
county, come to arrest him, and while he was speaking one of his men
deliberately shot the lieutenant, who fell, badly wounded, on the deck.
In another minute the "Gaspee" was boarded and taken without any loss to
the attacking party. The crew was overpowered, bound and placed upon the
shore. Duddingston, his wounds having been dressed, was landed at a
neighboring house. The party set fire to the "Gaspee," and while its
flames announced to the whole county the success of the expedition, they
returned, in broad daylight to Providence. Large rewards were offered by
the British government for their detection, but though they were
universally known, no evidence could be obtained, and the outrage was
entirely unpunished. It is to be observed that this act of piracy and
open warfare against the government was committed by the citizens of a
colony that had no cause for controversy with the home government, and
whose constitution was such a liberal one that it was not found
necessary to change one word of it when the province became an
independent republic.
General Gage, being informed that powder and other warlike stores were
being collected in surrounding towns for the purpose of being used
against the government, he sent, on Sept. 1, 1774, two hundred soldiers
up the Mystic river, who took from the powder house 212 barrels of
powder, and brought off two field-pieces from Cambridge. On April 18,
1775, at 10 o'clock at night, eight hundred men embarked from Boston
Common and crossed the Charles river in boats to the Cambridge shore.
At the same time Paul Revere rowed across the river, lower down, and
landed in Charlestown, and then, on horseback, went in advance of the
troops to alarm the country. He was pursued, and with another scout
named Dawes, was captured by the troops. At the dawn of day Lexington
was reached, 12 miles distant from Boston, where the troops were
confronted on the village green by the Lexington militia, which was
ordered by the commander of the British expedition to disperse, but
failing to do so they were fired on by the troops, and several of them
killed. The militia dispersed without firing a shot.
The troops gave three cheers in token of their victory, and continued
their march to Concord, their objective point, where they were informed
munitions of war were being collected. They arrived there at 9 o'clock,
and after destroying the stores collected there, they took up their
march for Boston. But now the alarm had spread through the country. The
troops had hardly commenced marching, when, crossing the North Bridge
they were fired upon by the Americans; one soldier was killed and
another wounded.[39]
[39] As the wounded soldier was crawling away he was met by a boy who
had been chopping wood, and who, inflamed by the spirit of the hour,
killed him with his axe. The two soldiers lay buried near the stonewall
where they fell. More than a century later a young woman came here
recently from Nottinghamshire, who was a relative of one of them. She
went to the graves and placed upon them a wreath, singing as she did so,
"God save the King!"
Captain Davis and Abner Hosmer, two Americans, were killed by the
British fire. On the march towards Boston the troops were met by the
fire of the Americans from the stonewalls on either side of the highway,
along the skirt of every wood or orchard, and from every house or barn
or cover in sight. The troops, exposed to such a galling attack in flank
and rear, must have surrendered had they not been met with
reinforcements from Boston. This very emergency had been anticipated,
and General Gage had sent out a brigade of a thousand men, and two
field-pieces, under Earl Percy. The forces met at Lexington about 2
o'clock in the afternoon. After a short interval of rest and
refreshment, the troops took up their line of march for Boston. At every
point on the road they met an increasing number of militia, who by this
time had gathered in such force as to constitute a formidable foe. It
was a terrible march. Many were killed, on both sides, and it was with
the greatest difficulty that Lord Percy was able at last, about sunset,
to bring his command to Charlestown Neck under cover of the ships of
war. The troops lost that day in killed, wounded, and missing, 273; the
Americans, 93. The war of the Revolution had commenced. The fratricidal
struggle was entered into, between men of the same race and blood who
had stood shoulder to shoulder in many a hard-fought field; brothers,
fathers and sons, were to engage in a deadly struggle that should last
for years, and which, eighty-six years after wards, was to be repeated
over again in the war between the North and South.