CHAPTER III.

CAUSES OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

A vast amount of debt, as is always the case with war, was the result of

the late contests in America. With peace, the costs of the struggle

began to be reckoned. The colonies had lost, by disease or the sword,

above 30,000 men; and their debt amounted to about £4,000,000,

Massachusetts alone having been reimbursed by parliament. The popular

power had, however, grown in various ways; the colonial assemblies had

resisted the claims of the royal and proprietary governors to the

management and irresponsible expenditure of the large sums which were

raised for the war, and thus the executive influence became transferred

in considerable degree from the governors to the colonial assemblies.

Another, and still more dangerous result, was the martial spirit which

had sprung up, and the discovery of the powerful means which the

colonists held in their hands for settling any disputed points of

authority and right with the mother-country. The colonies had of late

been a military college to her citizens, in which, though they had

performed the hardest service and had been extremely offended and

annoyed by the superiority assumed by the British officers and their own

subordination, yet they had been well trained, and had learned their own

power and resources. The conquest of New France, in great measure, cost

England her colonies.

England, at the close of the war—at the close, in fact, of four wars

within seventy years—found herself burdened with a debt of £140,000,000;

and as it was necessary now to keep a standing army in her colonies, to

defend and maintain her late conquests, the scheme of colonial taxation

to provide a regular and certain revenue began again to be agitated.

Already England feared the growing power and independence of her

colonies, and even at one moment hesitated as to whether it were not

wiser to restore Canada to France, in order that the proximity of a

powerful rival might keep them in check and secure their dependence on

the mother-country. As far as the colonists themselves were concerned,

we are assured by their earlier historians that the majority had no idea

of or wish to separate themselves from England, and that the utmost

which they contemplated by the conquest of Canada, was the freedom from

French and Indian wars, and that state of tranquil prosperity which

would leave them at liberty to cultivate and avail themselves of the

productions and resources of an affluent land. The true causes which

slowly alienated the colonies from the parent state may be traced back

to the early encroachments on their civil rights and the restrictive

enactments against their commerce.

The Americans were a bold and independent people from the beginning.

They came to the shores of the New World, the greater and better part of

them, republicans in feeling and principle. “They were men who scoffed

at the right of kings, and looked upon rulers as public servants bound

to exercise their authority for the benefit of the governed, and ever

maintained that it is the inalienable right of the subject freely to

give his money to the crown or to withhold it at his discretion.” Such

were the Americans in principle, yet were they bound to the

mother-country by old ties of affection, and by no means wishful to rush

into rebellion. It was precisely the case of the son grown to years of

discretion, whom an unreasonable parent seeks still to coerce, until the

hitherto dutiful, though clear-headed and resolute son, violently breaks

the bonds of parental authority and asserts the independence of his

manhood. The human being would have been less worthy in submission; the

colonies would have belied the strong race which planted them, had they

done otherwise.

England believed that she had a right to dictate and change the

government of the colonies at her pleasure, and to regulate and restrict

their commerce; and for some time this was, if not patiently submitted

to, at least allowed. The navigation acts declared that, for the benefit

of British shipping, no merchandise from the English colonies should be

imported into England excepting by English vessels; and, for the benefit

of English manufacturers, prohibited exportation from the colonies, nor

allowed articles of domestic manufacture to be carried from one colony

to another; she forbade hats, at one time, to be made in the colony,

where beaver abounded; at another, that any hatter should have above two

apprentices at one time; she subjected sugar, rum and molasses to

exorbitant duties on importation; she forbade the erection of iron-works

and the preparation of steel; or the felling of pitch and white

pine-trees unless in enclosed lands. To some of these laws, though felt

to be an encroachment on their rights, the colonies submitted patiently;

others, as for instance, the duties on sugar and molasses, they evaded

and opposed in every possible way, and the British authorities, from the

year 1733, when these duties were first imposed, to 1761, made but

little resistance to this opposition. At this latter date, however,

George III. having then ascended the throne, and being, as Charles

Townshend described him, “a very obstinate young man,” it was determined

to enforce this law, and “writs of assistance,” in other words,

search-warrants, were issued, by means of which the royal custom-house

officers were authorised to search for goods which had been imported

without the payment of duty. The people of Boston opposed and resented

these measures; and their two most eminent lawyers, Oxenbridge Thatcher

and James Otis, expressed the public sentiment in the strongest

language. Spite of search-warrants and official vigilance, the payment

of these duties was still evaded, and smuggling increased to a great

extent, while the colonial trade with the West Indies was nearly

destroyed.

In 1764 the sugar-duties were somewhat reduced, as a boon to the

colonies, but new duties were imposed on articles which had hitherto

been imported free; at the same time, Lord Grenville proposed a new

impost in the form of a stamp-tax. All pamphlets, almanacs, newspapers;

all bonds, notes, leases, policies of insurance, together with all

papers used for legal purposes, in order to be valid, were to be drawn

on stamped paper, to be purchased only from the king’s officers

appointed for that purpose. This plan met with the entire approbation of

the British parliament, but its enactment was deferred until the

following year, in order that the colonies might have an opportunity of

expressing their feelings on the subject. Though deference was thus

apparently paid to their wishes, the intention of the British government

was no longer concealed. The preamble of the bill openly avowed the

intention of raising a revenue from “His Majesty’s dominions in

America;” the same act gave increased power to the admiralty-courts, and

provided more stringent means for enforcing the payment of duties and

punishing their evasion.

The colonies received the news of these proposed measures with strong

indignation. Massachusetts instructed her agent in London to deny the

right of parliament to impose duties and taxes on a people who were not

represented in the House of Commons. “If we are not represented,” said

they, “we are slaves.” A combination of all the colonies for the defence

of their common interests was suggested.

Otis, who had published a pamphlet on Colonial Rights, seeing the tide

of public indignation rising very high, inculcated “obedience” and “the

duty of submission,” but this was not a doctrine which the Americans

were then in a state of mind to listen to. Better suited to their

feeling was Thatcher’s pamphlet against all parliamentary taxation.

Rhode Island expressed the same; so did Maryland, by their secretary of

the province; so did Virginia, by a leading member of her House of

Burgesses.[11] Strong as the expression of resentment was in the

colonies, addresses in a much milder strain were prepared to the king

and parliament from most of them, New York alone expressing boldly and

decidedly the true nature of her feelings, the same tone being

maintained by Rhode Island.

[Illustration: STAMP ACT RIOTS.]

But the minds of the British monarch and his ministers were not to be

influenced either by the remonstrances and pleadings of the colonies or

their agents in London, or of their few friends in parliament.

Grenville, the minister, according to pre-arrangement, brought in his

bill for collecting a stamp-tax in America, and it passed the House of

Commons five to one, and in the House of Lords there was neither

division on the subject nor the slightest opposition. This act was to

come into operation on the 1st day of November of the same year. It was

on the occasion of its discussion in the House of Commons, that Colonel

Barre, who had fought with Wolfe at Louisburg and Quebec, electrified

the house with his burst of eloquence in reply to one of the ministers

who spoke of the colonists as “children planted by our care, nourished

by our indulgence, and protected by our arms.” “They planted by your

care!” retorted Barre. “No; your oppression planted them in America.

They nourished by your indulgence! They grew up by your neglect of them.

They protected by your arms! Those sons of liberty have nobly taken up

arms in your defence. I claim to know more of America than most of you,

having been conversant in that country. The people, I believe, are as

truly loyal subjects as the king has, but a people jealous of their

liberties, and who will vindicate them should they ever be violated.”

The day after the Stamp Act had passed the house, Benjamin Franklin,

then in London as agent for Philadelphia, wrote the news to his friend,

Charles Thompson. “The sun of liberty,” said he, “is set; you must light

up the candles of industry and economy.” “We shall light up torches of

quite another kind,” was the reply.

Anticipating opposition to this unpopular measure, a new clause was

introduced in the Mutiny Act, authorising the sending of any number of

troops into the colonies, which, by an especial enactment, were to be

found with “quarters, fire-wood, bedding, drink, soap and candles,” by

the colonists.

The news of the passage of the Stamp Act called forth a universal burst

of indignation. At Boston and Philadelphia the bells were muffled, and

rung a funeral peal; at New York the act was carried through the streets

with a death’s head affixed to it, and labelled, “The folly of England

and the ruin of America.”[12]

The House of Assembly was sitting when the news reached Virginia, and

the leading aristocratic members hesitated to express an opinion.

Several days passed, and nothing was said; but the popular sentiment

found an utterance from the lips of Patrick Henry, a young lawyer and

member of the Assembly, who introduced a series of resolutions, which

were, in fact, the key-note to all that followed. The first four

resolutions asserted the rights and privileges of the colonists; the

last denied the authority of any power whatsoever, excepting their own

provincial Assembly, to impose taxes upon them, and denounced any person

as an enemy to the colonies, who should by writing or speaking maintain

the contrary. These strong resolutions led to a hot debate, during which

Henry, carried away by the fervour of his patriotism, styled the king of

England a tyrant. “Cæsar,” said he, “had his Brutus; Charles I. his

Cromwell; and George III.——” the cry of “Treason! Treason!” interrupted

him—“and George III.,” continued the corrected orator, “may profit by

their example. If that be treason, make the most of it!” Spite of strong

opposition, the resolutions passed; the last and most emphatic, by only

the majority of one vote. The next day, in the absence of Henry, it was

rescinded. But the whole had already gone to Philadelphia in manuscript,

and soon circulating through the colonies, met with a warm response, and

gave an impetus to the popular feeling.

Before the proceedings in Virginia were known in Massachusetts, the

General Court had met, and a convention or congress of deputies from the

various colonial houses of representatives was called “to meet at New

York on the first Tuesday in October, to consult on the difficulties in

which the colonies were and must be placed by the late acts of

parliament levying duties and taxes upon them;” and further, “to

consider of a general and humble address to his majesty and the

parliament, to implore relief.”

In the meantime the popular feeling grew in intensity, and public

meetings were held throughout the colonies—a new feature in colonial

history,—and inflammatory speeches made, and associations formed, and

resolutions agreed upon, to resist to the utmost this detested

measure, which was stated to be “unconstitutional and subversive of

their dearest rights.” Nor were they contented with talking merely.

Associations, under the name of “Sons of Liberty,” a phrase taken from

Colonel Barre’s famous speech, were formed in Connecticut, New York,

Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and New Jersey, who proceeded to express

the popular sentiment in a very forcible manner. The stamp-officers in

all these provinces were either compelled or persuaded to renounce

their appointments; the stamps were seized and burned, and in Boston

scenes even of disgraceful violence occurred. Public meetings were

held under a large elm-tree, in an open space in the city, which hence

took the name of the “Liberty Tree;” the effigies of such as were

considered friends of the British government were hanged in its

branches, beneath which inflammatory speeches were made. The house of

Oliver, appointed stamp-distributor of Massachusetts, was attacked,

the windows broken, and the furniture destroyed, and he compelled to

resign. A violent sermon was preached against the Stamp Act, and this

excited the mob still further; many houses of the public officers were

attacked and destroyed, together with private papers and public

records, as was particularly the case at the house of Hutchinson, the

lieutenant-governor, whose furniture was piled into bonfires, the

flames of which were fed with invaluable manuscripts, the carefully

collected historical records of thirty years. These acts of violence

were of course committed by such ignorant mobs as are the product of

all periods of popular excitement. The respectable inhabitants of

Boston expressed their “abhorrence,” and a civic guard was organised

to prevent their recurrence; nevertheless the offenders passed

unpunished, whence it may be inferred that “the respectability” of

Boston did not quarrel with the spirit of their proceedings.

And now, on October 7th, the first Colonial Congress met at New York;

twenty-eight delegates being present from nine colonies; among these

were Timothy Ruggles, president, Otis, of Massachusetts, William

Johnson, of Connecticut, Philip Livingstone, of New York, John

Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, John M‘Kean, of Delaware, Christopher

Gadsden and John Rutledge, of South Carolina—all names afterwards

distinguished in the revolution. After mature deliberation, “a

Declaration of the Rights and Grievances of the Colonies” was drawn up,

in which all the rights and privileges of Englishmen were claimed as the

birthright of the colonists; one of the most important of which was an

exemption from all taxation, except such as was imposed by their own

consent and by their own representatives. A petition to the king and

parliament was also prepared, in which the cause of the colonies was

eloquently pleaded.

These proceedings were sanctioned by all the representatives, excepting

Ruggles, the president, and Ogden, of New Jersey, both of whom refused

to sign, on the plea of the approbation of their several assemblies

being first required. The petition and memorials, signed by the other

delegates, were transmitted to England, and all the other colonies gave

in their approval immediately afterwards.

On the important 1st of November, the day on which the Stamp Act came

into operation, scarcely a sheet of all the many bales of stamped paper

which had been sent out to the colonies was to be found. They had either

been destroyed or shipped back to England. The day was observed as one

of public mourning; shops were closed, vessels displayed their flags

half-mast high, processions paraded the streets, and every means was

used to show the public disapprobation. The very terms of the act

caused, in the present state of the popular mind, a suspension of the

whole machinery of the social state. Business for the time was at an

end; the courts of law were closed; marriages could not take place, nor

could the affairs of the dead be legally settled. This was a state,

however, which could not continue, and by degrees things fell into their

usual course, without any regard to the act of parliament at all.

On the 6th of November, a public meeting of the more influential

inhabitants of Boston formed a combination of retaliation on Great

Britain. The purport of this was, that no goods should be imported from

England nor used by the colonies. The women entered into the scheme with

the utmost enthusiasm. All British manufactures were foresworn, and

every kind of domestic manufacture was to be encouraged. In order to

promote the home manufacture of woollen cloths, it was determined for

the present to eat neither mutton nor lamb, that the American flocks

might thus be allowed to increase. By these means it was intended that

the trade with Great Britain should be destroyed.

England received the news with mingled alarm and displeasure.

Nevertheless, a change having taken place in the ministry, Lord

Grenville being succeeded by the Marquis of Rockingham, a party more

favourable to America was in power; and it was now, therefore, evident

to all that one of two measures must be immediately taken—either the

odious Stamp Act must be repealed, or the colonies must be compelled to

obedience by force of arms. The former was the wiser course, and a

strong party now existed to advocate it. Angry debates began in the

British senate on the subject. Lord Grenville’s party opposed repeal,

which Pitt in the House of Commons, and Lord Camden in the House of

Lords, as warmly advocated. “You have no right,” said Pitt, addressing

the house, “to tax America. We are told that America is obstinate—is

almost in open rebellion. I rejoice that America has resisted. Three

millions of people, so dead to all the feelings of liberty as to

voluntarily submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make

slaves of all the rest. The Americans have been wronged. They have been

driven to madness by injustice. Let this country be the first to resume

its prudence and temper. I will pledge my word for the colonies, that on

their part animosity and resentment will cease!”

Franklin, summoned to the bar of the house as a witness, declared that

the act could never be enforced; and the bill for the repeal was carried

in the Commons. In the House of Lords it met with great opposition. Lord

Camden advocated the cause of the colonies with great eloquence. “My

position is this,” said he—“I repeat it, I will maintain it to my last

hour—taxation and representation are inseparable. This position is

founded on the law of nature. It is more—it is itself an eternal law of

nature; for whatever is a man’s own is absolutely his own; no man has a

right to take it from him without his consent. Whoever attempts to do it

attempts an injury; whoever does it commits a robbery.”

The bill for repeal passed, but it was accompanied by another, called

“the Declaratory Act,” which was intended to save the national honour by

avowing the principle “that parliament had a right to bind the colonies

in all cases whatever.”

The repeal of the Stamp Act caused great joy in London to the merchants,

manufacturers, and friends of America. In America it was received by a

general outburst of loyalty and gratitude. A general thanksgiving was

appointed; statues to Pitt and even to the king were voted, and erected

in various places. Pitt became more than ever the idol of the colonies;

and thanks were voted to him by most of the colonial assemblies.

The rejoicing, however, was only of short duration. The Declaratory Act

made known the principle of action which it was intended to pursue

towards the colonies, and accordingly the following year its operation

commenced. Again the ministry was changed; and though Pitt, now Earl of

Chatham, was at the head of affairs, and Lord Camden had a seat in the

cabinet, advantage was taken of Chatham’s illness, and Charles

Townshend, now Chancellor of the Exchequer and a former member of

Grenville’s ministry, brought in a bill for taxing all tea, glass, paper

and painters’ colours, imported into the colonies. This bill being

supposed less objectionable than the Stamp Act, passed the two houses

with but little opposition. Nor was this all; a standing army was to be

maintained in the colonies, and permanent salaries provided for the

governors and judges, so as to make them independent of the colonial

assemblies; while a third act empowered the naval officers to act as

custom-house officers, armed with authority to enforce the trade and

navigation acts. Punishment was also inflicted on New York and Georgia

for their disregard of the late Quartering Act; the legislative assembly

of New York was suspended until his majesty’s troops were provided with

supplies at the expense of the colony, and the troops were withdrawn

from Georgia for the same cause, leaving her exposed to the incursions

of Indians and the insurrection of negroes, which soon brought her to

submission.

The passing of these bills in such quick succession left the Americans

no longer in doubt of the line of policy which it was intended by

England to adopt towards them, and the excitement and indignation which

they occasioned equalled that produced by the Stamp Act. The colonial

assemblies met, and the strongest dissatisfaction was expressed.

Pamphlets circulated briskly, and the newspapers, now about

five-and-twenty in number, entered boldly on the subject of colonial

rights. The “Letters of a Pennsylvanian Farmer to the Inhabitants of the

British Colonies,” written by John Dickinson, flew from one end of the

colonies to the other. Franklin caused an edition to be published even

in London. The object of Dickinson’s letters was to show how dangerous

was the precedent of allowing parliamentary taxation in any form or to

any extent whatever.

Again meetings were held and associations formed for the support and

encouragement of home manufactures, and against the use and importation

of British goods. This movement, which commenced in Boston, extended

throughout the province, and the example was followed in Providence, New

York and Philadelphia. In New Hampshire the non-importation agreement

was not so warmly seconded, owing to the influence of the governor,

Wentworth, while in Connecticut, under William Pitkin, the governor and

an ardent patriot, it met with universal acceptation.

The assembly of Massachusetts invited by circular the co-operation of

the other provinces for the maintenance of colonial rights; the prime

movers in this measure being Thomas Cushing, the speaker of the House of

Assembly, James Otis, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Joseph Hawley, all

men of character and great influence. Otis was a lawyer; Cushing,

descended from an old Puritan line in the colony; Adams, a stern Puritan

likewise, educated for the ministry, but forced by circumstances to

become a merchant—he had, however, been unsuccessful as such, and after

various reverses and changes was now an active politician and patriot, a

man though poor, and whose wife by her industry supported the family,

yet who exercised an extraordinary influence upon the fate of his

country. Hancock, the youngest of this patriot band, was a wealthy

merchant, descended from a line of merchants, “young, gay, of winning

manners, with a strong love of popular approbation.” “Hancock,” says

Hildreth, “acted very much under the guidance of Adams, who saw the

policy of putting him forward as a leader.” Hawley was a member of

Northampton County, a lawyer by profession, a man of sound judgment,

religious feeling, and unimpeachable character. The leader in the House

of Representatives at this time was James Bowdoin, the grandson of a

French Huguenot, whose father from the smallest beginnings had become

the most opulent man in Boston, his immense wealth being inherited by

his son and only child at one-and-twenty; he, too, acted under the

direction of Adams.

The revenue officers no sooner began to enforce the collection of

duties, than, as might be expected in the existing state of public

feeling, they found themselves violently opposed by the merchants.

Before long, also, the sloop Liberty, belonging to Hancock, being seized

on the charge of having smuggled goods on board, the smothered fires

burst into open flame. The populace rose, and the terrified revenue

officers fled for their lives to the barracks on Castle Island, at the

mouth of the harbour.

About the same time orders were received from England that “the

Circular,” issued by the last court, and which had given great offence,

should be rescinded, and great disapprobation was expressed in his

majesty’s name of “that rash and hasty proceeding.” But the circular had

already gone forth, and by a vote of ninety-two to seventeen the House

of Assembly refused to rescind. Orders had also been received by all the

other colonies, desiring them to pay no attention to this offensive

circular; but Connecticut, New Jersey, Virginia, and Georgia, had

already committed themselves to it; and Maryland and New York, instead

of obedience, now put forth remonstrances of their own.

Still was New York in contention with the governor on the subject of the

quartering of the troops, when General Gage, commander-in-chief of the

British forces in America, at the request of Bernard, the governor, who

had complained to England of the tumultuous and refractory character of

the people of Boston, was ordered to establish a military force in the

city, to keep the inhabitants in order, as well as to aid the revenue

officers in performing their duties. Two additional regiments were in

consequence sent over from England. Late in September they arrived, and

with muskets charged, and fixed bayonets, marched in as to a conquered

town. The people, however, remained refractory; nor, though ships of war

were in their harbour, and 1,000 armed men in their streets, would they

submit to find them quarters. At length the discomfited governor was

compelled to yield; one regiment encamped on Boston common, and the

State-house was thrown open for the accommodation of the rest. It was

Sunday when all this happened, and as the State-house stood opposite the

great church, the inhabitants were disagreeably disturbed in their

worship by the beating of drums and the marching of the troops, only to

find themselves challenged by sentinels stationed in the street on their

way home. These were not circumstances calculated to mollify the popular

resentment; the most irritating language passed between the soldiers and

the citizens, and the public excitement increased daily.

The news of this reception given to the troops, which was transmitted to

England both by Gage and Governor Bernard, caused an equally violent

excitement in England. Parliament declared the conduct of Massachusetts

to be “illegal, unconstitutional, and derogatory to the rights of the

crown and of parliament, and urged upon the king, that the governor

should be ordered to obtain all information regarding this treason, and

to send suspected persons over to England for trial, under an old

statute of Henry VIII., for the punishment of treasons committed out of

the kingdom.” And a bill to the same effect, spite of the opposition of

Barre, Burke, and Pownall, was immediately passed.

Every new step now taken, either by the colonies or the mother-country,

increased the distance between them. The news of these instructions

called forth immediately the most decisive expression of opinion from

the colonial assemblies. The Virginian Assembly, in which Thomas

Jefferson now first distinguished himself, and which was sitting when

these tidings reached, passed a resolution denying boldly the king’s

right, either to tax the colonies without their consent, or to remove an

offender out of the country for trial. As soon as Lord Boutetout, the

governor, heard of this, he dissolved the assembly, but the members,

instead of submitting, resumed their sittings in a private house, and

choosing Peyton Randolph as their speaker, passed resolutions, drawn up

by Colonel Washington, against the use of British goods. Their example

was followed, and the “non-importation agreement” of Boston, Salem and

New York, now became general. In North Carolina the assembly was also

dissolved, as well as in Massachusetts. In Massachusetts, indeed, the

military still occupying the town of Boston and the State-house, the

rupture became so violent, that when Sir Francis Bernard communicated to

the assembly his intention of going to England, to represent to

parliament the disaffected state of the province, the assembly drew up a

petition praying that he might be removed for ever from the government

of the province, and denouncing, in the strongest terms, the fact of a

standing army being maintained among them in a time of peace, and

against their express desire. Leaving the administration in the hands of

Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson, Bernard departed.

In the following year, 1770, an event occurred at Boston, which caused

great excitement throughout America. An affray having taken place

between some citizens and soldiers, the populace became greatly

exasperated, and on the 5th of March, a crowd insulted the city guard

under Captain Preston, and dared them to fire. The soldiers fired, three

of the people were killed, and others seriously wounded. At once the

whole city was roused, and thousands appeared in arms. After great

difficulty, and by promise that justice should be done them on the

morrow, the lieutenant-governor succeeded in appeasing the tumult.

Captain Preston and his company were tried for murder; two of the most

distinguished American lawyers and patriots, John Adams and Josiah

Quincy, very nobly volunteering their services in their defence. Two of

the soldiers were convicted of manslaughter, the rest were acquitted;

but this circumstance only tended to increase the ill-feeling between

the citizens and the soldiers.[13]

On the very day of the outrage at Boston, Lord North, who was now at the

head of the British administration, brought in a bill for the repeal of

the detestable Quartering Act, and the removal of all the late offensive

duties, excepting those on tea. It was time, in fact, to do something,

as during the last year the amount produced by these very taxes had been

swallowed up in their collection; British trade with the colonies was

nearly at an end, and the military expenses amounted within the same

period to £170,000. But even this conciliatory measure could do little.

The Americans would accept nothing which still recognised the principle

that parliament had a right to tax the provinces, and _tea_ became now

an article especially marked out by the non-importation agreements.

The concessions of government were not, however, without their effect in

America; two parties began now to exist; those who inclined to

moderation and adherence to the mother-country, called _Tories_, and the

opponents, _Whigs_. In New York the party of Tories was strong, being

composed of wealthy merchants, and members of the Church of England.

These having power in the assembly, which now, after a suspension of two

years, was allowed to meet again, submitted to the “Quartering Act,” and

provided for the soldiers, to the extreme disgust of the patriots and

sons of Liberty, at whose head was a wealthy merchant, Alexander

M‘Dougall, a man who had raised himself by his own energy from poverty,

and who was afterwards a major-general in the revolutionary army. This

man having expressed his views very strongly, was imprisoned by the

assembly, thus glad to show their zeal and loyalty, and M‘Dougall became

at once a popular hero and martyr, and his prison the gathering-place of

patriots.

The non-importation and non-consumption agreements led to results of a

beneficial character in social life which had not been contemplated. The

senseless pomp of mourning and funeral expenses in which the colonists

had indulged was discontinued; American manufactures were stimulated,

“home-made was the fashion; and in 1770, the graduating students at

Cambridge took their degrees in home-spun suits.”

As we have before said, every successive act of Britain only served to

alienate still more the hearts of her colonies. In 1772, parliament

provided for the maintenance of the governor and judges of Massachusetts

out of the royal revenues of the province, independent of the colonial

assembly, and this was resented as an intended bribe to the governor and

an infraction of their rights. Public meetings were again held

throughout Massachusetts, and corresponding committees were formed,

whose business was to discuss and consider the rights of the colonists

and to communicate and publish the result. In the following year these

committees commenced operation in New Hampshire, Rhode Island,

Connecticut, Pennsylvania and Maryland, as well as in Massachusetts.

These, “the nurseries of independence,” gave again great offence in

England.

During June of the same year, the Gaspe, an armed revenue schooner,

which had been a great cause of annoyance in Narrangansett Bay, was

purposely enticed into shoal-water by a vessel to which she gave chase,

boarded and burnt by a party from Providence. This daring outrage called

forth the indignation of parliament, and an act was passed for sending

to England for trial all persons concerned in destroying his majesty’s

ships, etc. A reward of £600 was offered for the discovery of the

persons concerned in the destruction of this vessel, and powerful

machinery of examination was put in action; but though the perpetrators

were well known, so strong was public feeling in their favour, that no

legal evidence could be obtained against them.

“While ardent discussions,” says Hildreth, “on the subject of colonial

and national rights were going on in Massachusetts, some reflecting

persons were struck with the inconsistency of contending for their own

liberty and depriving other people of theirs. Hence arose a controversy

as to the justice and legality of negro slavery. This controversy led to

trials at law, in which the question was freely canvassed, and it was

proved by legal decisions ‘that the colonists, black or white, born

there, were free-born British subjects, and entitled to all the

essential rights of such.’ These were the first steps towards the

abolition of slavery in Massachusetts.”

Whilst disputes were maturing themselves into the great national contest

between the mother-country and the colonies, the colonies were not

altogether at peace among themselves; the question of boundary being

fruitful in controversy. Pennsylvania and Connecticut quarrelled

violently about the possession of the Wyoming Valley, on the Upper

Susquehanna, and blood was even shed. Virginia quarrelled with

Pennsylvania, also, about her western frontier, laying claim to

Pittsburg and the whole district west of the Laurel Mountains. The

boundary dispute which had long agitated New York and New Jersey was

happily adjusted about this time, as was also that between New York and

Massachusetts. Violent were the disputes, however, between New York and

the settlers in the infant Vermont, the territory lying west of the

Connecticut, “the Green Mountain Boys,” as they were called, and the

leaders of whom were Ethan Allen and Seth Warner, emigrants from

Connecticut to the Green Mountains. But, spite of disputes both at home

and abroad, settlers extended themselves farther and still farther, to

the north and to the west. The formidable Six Nations had now disposed

of all their vast territory south of the Ohio, as far as the Cherokee or

Tennessee River, to the British Crown, for the sum of £10,460. Settlers

were already occupying the banks of the Kenhawa River, flowing north

into the Ohio, beyond the great Allegany Range. In consequence of this

immense cession of territory, land companies started up in England for

the establishment of new colonies, but the growing troubles with the

mother-country prevented their plans being carried out.

The first settlements in the present state of Tennessee were made by

emigrants from North Carolina, who established themselves on the Wataga,

one of the head streams of the Tennessee, in the land of the Cherokees.

Like the early settlers of New England, these emigrants organised

themselves into a body politic, and drew up a code of laws to which

every individual assented by signature. About the same time that

settlers extended themselves to the Tennessee, an Indian trader,

returning to North Carolina from one of his far journeys west, induced

Daniel Boone and four other settlers on the Yadkin, in Maryland, by his

glowing accounts of the wonderfully beautiful regions which he had

discovered, to return with him for their exploration. They set out,

reached the head waters of the Kentucky, and as hunters traversed the

fertile plains and magnificent forests in pursuit of the buffalo and

other game. They had encounters with Indians, and Boone was taken

prisoner, but managed to escape, and was soon after joined by his

brother, who had come out in search of him. Boone was a second Nimrod, a

mighty hunter; and as such, explored the beautiful region between the

Upper Kentucky and the Tennessee. The country pleased him greatly, and

hastening back to the Yadkin, he sold his farm, and with his wife and

children and five other families, returned to this “New Western

Paradise,” being joined by volunteer settlers to the number of forty as

he journeyed along. All, however, did not go smoothly with them; they

were met by hostile Indians and some of their number killed; and war

having broken out between the backwoodsmen of Virginia and the Indians

on the Ohio, they were detained a year and a half by the way. While the

west was thus opened to the colonists, Georgia also acquired a large

increase of territory by the purchase of land from the Creeks and

Cherokees.

About this time Whitfield died in America, and Wesley sent over

disciples to establish the Wesleyan Church in that country; soon after

which, Mother Ann Lee also arrived, the foundress of the Shakers, whose

singular communities exist to this day, here and there, throughout the

country. About the same time, also, the sect of the Universalists began

to attract attention, under the preaching of John Murray; and though at

first few dared to avow this so-called heresy, it gained great

acceptation, and tended considerably to soften the stern, rugged heart

of puritan New England.

We now return to the great contest which cast all minor subjects into

the shade.

The British ministry intended by cunning policy to effect what open

measures had failed to do. The East India company were allowed by act of

parliament to export tea to the American colonies free from English

duties, liable only to threepence per pound, to be paid by the

colonists, and which would thus give them tea cheaper than that

purchased by the English. Tea was shipped in great quantities to

America, which the colonists, who objected as strongly as ever to the

principle involved in the measure, determined should never be permitted

to land.

The pilots, therefore, in Philadelphia harbour were ordered not to

conduct the ships into the river, and their cargoes were consequently

returned to England; at New York, the governor commanded the tea to be

landed under protection of soldiers, but the people gained possession,

and prohibited its sale. At Charleston, also, its sale was forbidden and

it was stored up in damp cellars to render it unfit for use. At Boston,

the tea being consigned to the governor and his friends, it was feared

that it would be landed spite of the public, to prevent which a number

of men, disguised as Indians, boarded the vessels at night, and threw

their cargoes overboard. Three hundred and thirty-two chests of tea were

thus broken open and destroyed.

The news of this determined and offensive procedure caused the utmost

astonishment and indignation in England, and it was resolved in

parliament “to make such provisions as should secure the just dependence

of the colonies and due obedience to the laws throughout the British

dominions and as an especial punishment of the contumacious Bostonians,

a bill passed the house in March, 1774, to oblige them to repay the

value of the destroyed article, and also interdicting all commercial

intercourse with the port of Boston, and prohibiting the landing and

shipping of any goods at that place;” and by the same act the

custom-house and its dependencies were removed from Boston to Salem,

which it was intended to raise on the ruins of its neighbour city and

port.

[Illustration: THROWING THE TAXED TEA INTO BOSTON HARBOR.]

General Gage superseded Hutchinson as governor of Massachusetts, in

consequence of the unpopularity of the latter. A number of manuscript

letters, written by him to various members of parliament, had fallen

into the hands of Benjamin Franklin, now agent in London for

Massachusetts, New Jersey, Georgia and Pennsylvania, and having been

sent by him to Boston, and circulated extensively though privately,

caused his removal from office.

When, in May, the news of the Boston Port Bill reached that city,

together with instructions to the new governor, to send to another

colony or to England, for trial, any persons indicted for murder, or any

other capital offence committed in aid of the magistrates in the

fulfilment of their duty, an astonishment of grief and anger fell upon

the citizens, and a meeting of the inhabitants declared that “the

impolicy, injustice and inhumanity of the act exceeded their powers of

expression.”

The General Assembly met, but was adjourned by the governor to Salem,

and it was then resolved that a colonial congress should be convened to

take into serious consideration the present difficult state of affairs.

James Bowdoin, Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, John Adams and Robert Treat

Paine, were therefore at once appointed as their representatives to such

a congress, and the speaker of the house was ordered to inform the other

colonies of this measure. The governor, hearing of these proceedings,

ordered the assembly to dissolve, but in vain; his officer was not

admitted, and in defiance of orders, the assembly finished its business.

The colonies sympathised warmly with Massachusetts, and Massachusetts

was true to herself. The behaviour of the inhabitants of Salem, whom it

was intended to benefit at the expense of Boston, was very noble. They

replied to the governor’s proclamation, “That nature, in forming their

harbour, had prevented their becoming rivals to Boston in trade; and

that, even if it were otherwise, they should regard themselves as lost

to every idea of justice and all feelings of humanity, if they could

indulge a thought of seizing upon the wealth of their neighbours, or

raising their fortunes upon the ruins of their countrymen.” More than

this; the inhabitants of Marblehead and Salem offered to the suffering

merchants of Boston the use of their harbour, wharfs and warehouses,

free of all charge; and in Virginia, where Lord Dunmore, now governor,

found it impossible to manage the “the refractory people,” “a day of

fast, humiliation, and prayer,” was appointed for the 1st of June, the

day on which the Boston Port Act came into effect, “that they might

beseech of God to avert the evils which threatened them, and to give

them one heart and one mind firmly to oppose, by all just and proper

means, every injury to the American rights.”

In September, the great congress proposed by Massachusetts met at

Philadelphia, composed of delegates from eleven of the colonies—the most

important assembly which had yet come together in America, and for the

result of whose deliberations all parties waited with extreme interest

and anxiety.

By unanimous consent, Peyton Randolph, of Virginia, was chosen

president; to each province was given one vote; they proceeded in their

deliberations with closed doors; and a committee, composed of two

persons from each province, was appointed to state the rights of the

colonies in general, together with every known instance in which these

rights had been infringed by the mother-country, and the proposed means

of redress. The conduct of Massachusetts, in her “conflict with wicked

ministers,” was approved, and a continuance of supplies for her relief

was voted. A letter of remonstrance was addressed to the governor,

General Gage, who was erecting fortifications on Boston Neck, begging

him to “desist from military operations, lest a difference altogether

irreconcilable should arise between the colonies and the parent state.”

The committee appointed for that purpose drew up a document setting

forth, in a string of resolutions, the rights of the colonies, which,

being approved, was published as the well-known “Bill of Rights.” A

suspension of all commercial intercourse with Great Britain was resolved

upon, until the grievances of the colonies were redressed; an address to

the king was voted, together with others to the people of Great Britain

and British America. The non-importation agreement bound them, “under

the sacred ties of virtue, honour, and love of liberty,” not to import

or use any British goods after the 1st of December, 1774, particularly

the articles, tea and molasses. Agriculture, the arts and manufactures,

were to be promoted in America by all possible means; committees were

appointed to see this agreement entered into, and all who violated it

were to be regarded as enemies to their country. To the honour of this

assembly it must be stated, that they bound themselves also not to be in

any way concerned in the slave-trade.

The proceedings of this congress awoke, as might be expected, a still

stronger spirit of animosity in England. In vain the congress deplored

to the king “the apprehension of his colonists being degraded into a

state of servitude from the pre-eminent rank of English freemen;” in

vain they besought that “the royal indignation might fall on those

designing and dangerous men, who, by their misrepresentations of his

American subjects, had compelled them by the force of accumulated

injuries to disturb his majesty’s repose;” in vain they prayed for

“peace, liberty, and safety; wishing not the diminution of the royal

prerogative, nor soliciting the grant of any new right in their favour;”

in vain they concluded their petition by earnestly beseeching the king,

“as the father of his whole people, not to permit the ties of blood, of

law, and loyalty, to be broken.” In vain did Lord Chatham stand before

the British senate as the eloquent advocate of America, declaring that

the way must be immediately opened for reconciliation, or it would be

soon too late. “His majesty,” argued he, “may indeed wear his crown, but

the American jewel out of it, it will not be worth wearing. I say,”

continued he, taking up the argument of American wrongs, “you have no

right to tax the colonies without their consent. They say truly,

representation and taxation must go together; they are inseparable. This

wise people speak out. They do not hold the language of slaves; they

tell you what they mean. They do not ask you to repeal your laws, as a

favour; they claim it as a right—they demand it; and the acts must be

repealed. Bare repeal, however, will not satisfy this enlightened and

spirited people. You must go through with the work; you must declare

that you have no right to tax them; thus they may trust you—thus they

will have some confidence in you.”

In vain did the merchants of London and other commercial towns petition

in favour of America. Dr. Franklin and other colonial agents were

refused a hearing before the house. America was condemned. The two

houses of parliament, by a large majority, assured the king that “the

Americans had long wished to become independent, and only waited for

ability and opportunity to accomplish their design. To prevent this,

therefore, and to crush the monster in its birth, was the duty of every

Englishman; and this must be done, at any price and at every hazard.”

Such was the temper of parliament.

In the meantime, the colonies were not indifferent to the increasing

difficulties of the times. Massachusetts already assumed a military

aspect. The congress, which, spite of the opposition of the governor,

continued to hold its sittings, seeing that the military stores were

already seized by the governor, proceeded themselves to take measures

for the defence of the province. £20,000 were voted for this purpose,

and the collectors of taxes received orders no longer to forward their

moneys to the government treasurer, but to a new one of their own

appointment. Further, it was ordained that a number of the inhabitants

should be enrolled as a militia of 12,000 men, ready to march at a

minute’s notice; officers were chosen, and committees of supplies and

safety held their regular sittings. Gage denounced their proceedings,

but no notice was taken of his denunciations; “he had no support except

in his own troops and a few trembling officials, while the zealous

co-operation of an intelligent, firm, energetic, and overwhelming

majority of the people, gave to the provincial congress all the strength

of an established government.”[14]

In November, at the very time when the king and the British parliament

were resolving to keep terms no longer with the colonies, Massachusetts

sent agents to New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut, to inform

them of her measures, and to solicit their co-operation in raising an

army of 20,000 men, ready to act in case of need.

In the midst of all these growing internal excitements, and while the

colonists were deeply occupied in the maintenance of their rights, the

frontiers of Pennsylvania and Virginia were again visited by the

miseries of Indian warfare. It was at this time that the family of the

famous chief Logan, an old and faithful friend of the whites, was

murdered in cold blood; and this and other atrocities committed by the

explorers of Ohio and Kentucky, led to the sorrows of the present Indian

war. Daniel Boone, the hunter of the Kentucky plains, was placed in

command of a frontier fort by Lord Dunmore, governor of Virginia, and a

war of extermination was carried on against the Indians. At length,

negotiations of peace were entered into, and it was on this occasion

that Logan made his celebrated speech: “I appeal to any white man,”

spoke the eloquent chief of the forest, “if he ever entered the cabin of

Logan hungry, and he gave him not meat; if he ever came cold and naked,

and he clothed him not. During the last long and bloody war, Logan

remained idle in his cabin; and such was his love for the whites, that

his countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, ‘Logan is the friend of

the white men!’ I even thought to live with you, but for the injuries of

one man. Colonel Cresop, last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked,

murdered all the relatives of Logan, not sparing women and children.

There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature!

This called on me for revenge! I have fully glutted my vengeance! For my

people, I rejoice at the beams of peace; but mine is not the joy of

fear—Logan never felt fear. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one!”

At the commencement of 1775, America very generally stood in a position

of hostility to the mother-country. The congress of Massachusetts had

held its third sitting; volunteers were in arms throughout the province,

and every town had its committees of safety, correspondence and

inspection. John Thomas, of Plymouth, and William Heath, a Roxbury

farmer, were appointed generals of the Massachusetts army.

In Rhode Island, in consequence of the royal prohibition of the

exportation of military stores to America, and the removal of armed

ships from Narrangansett Bay, the people of Providence conveyed

forty-four pieces of cannon thither from Newport; and when called upon

by the British naval commander for an explanation, Governor Wanton, a

stout patriot, bluntly replied, that they were removed to prevent their

falling into his hands, and were intended to be used against any force

which might molest the colony. In New Hampshire, John Sullivan a lawyer,

and John Langdon, a merchant of Portsmouth, headed a party who entered

the fort at that place, and possessed themselves of 100 barrels of

powder, cannon and small arms. The convention of Maryland ordered the

enrolment of militia, and voted £10,000 for the purchase of arms. In

Pennsylvania, the public spirit was less unanimous. The provincial

convention of that province expressed themselves less decidedly than

suited the temper of the ardent patriots, one of the leaders of whom was

Thomas Mifflin, a young Quaker, possessed of much energy of character,

and remarkable powers of popular eloquence. Mifflin, however, was an

exception to the general body of Quakers, who, whatever their original

opposition to established forms, have ever been loyal and obedient to

the powers that be; and now, in their yearly meeting held in

Philadelphia at the commencement of 1775, they put forth their

“testimony of abhorrence to every measure and writing tending to break

off the happy connexion of the colonies with the mother-country, or to

interrupt their just subordination to the king.” Very different was the

spirit of the sects and their ministers in New England. Everywhere it

evinced opposition to the king and the mother-country, whose attempts to

force an established episcopal church, with a bishop at its head, upon

the colonies, had only tended still more to increase that very spirit of

resistance which had first sent their forefathers to these shores. The

Presbyterians of every New England state were all staunch Whigs. The

episcopal clergy and their congregations, wherever found, were Tories;

so also were the landed proprietors and merchants, especially the more

recent settlers. The Episcopalian and Tory party was more numerous in

New York than in any other of the northern provinces. In Georgia they

were also considerable, and the influence of Governor Wright prevented

this province from joining the American Association; and in the southern

provinces, the law of primogeniture, which still considerably prevailed,

together with the institution of slavery, had given rise to a local

aristocratic class, totally opposed in sentiment to the democracy of the

north.

These were the elements upon which England depended to establish her

power in the coming contest;—nor were these all; she depended, not only

on the loyalty and attachment of the Episcopalians everywhere, but on

the peace-loving principles of the Quakers, who were an influential

portion of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware and North Carolina; she

expected if not aid, at least no opposition from the numerous German

settlers, who, established in large colonies, had not yet acquired the

English language nor amalgamated with the British colonists; and at the

same time she depended for aid upon the Scotch Highlanders, who abounded

in New York and North Carolina, and who were at the same time ignorant

and loyal.

It being determined therefore to show no concession to the rebellious

spirit of the colonies, a bill was brought in in February, 1775, for

cutting off the trade of Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and

New Hampshire, excepting with Great Britain and her West India

possessions, and to prohibit also their fishing on the banks of

Newfoundland, which was then a great branch of their trade and industry.

While this bill was under discussion, news reached England of the

adhesion which was given by the other colonies to the measures of the

American Congress; and all the colonies, excepting New York, North

Carolina and Georgia, were included in the bill of restriction. At the

very time that this New England Restraining Bill was agitating all

parties, Lord North proposed what he called a conciliatory plan, which

was, in fact, that Great Britain should forbear any scheme of colonial

taxation, on condition that the assembly of each province should raise a

suitable amount of money, which should be disposable by parliament. This

plan, though vehemently opposed in England, as conceding too much to the

colonies, was utterly rejected by the colonies, as compelling them to

yield that over which they claimed to have a right. In the midst of all

these attempts at coercion and conciliation, an endeavour at negotiation

also failed between Benjamin Franklin and some members of the cabinet

who were friendly to America.

The West India merchants petitioned against the restraining bill, as

interfering fatally with their commercial relationships, and foretelling

famine and ruin to the West India islands in consequence. The assembly

of Jamaica petitioned parliament on behalf of “the claim of rights set

up by the North American provinces,” and protested against the “plan

almost carried into execution for reducing the colonies into the most

abject state of slavery.” Petitions for conciliation were presented from

the British Quakers and the British settlers in Quebec, and Wilkes, as

lord mayor of London, presented a remonstrance to the king from the city

authorities, expressing “abhorrence of the measures in progress for the

oppression of their fellow subjects in the colonies.” But all was of no

avail. Nothing was to be done; and Franklin, seeing the hopeless state

of affairs, set sail for America, and almost at the same moment the

battle of Lexington was fought.

A popular history of the United States of America, Vol. 2 (of 2) · 第 3 / 18 章