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The crisis
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Chapter 25:
The Charter of
Massachusetts in peril.—the fall of the
Rockingham Administration.
May—July, 1766.
The satisfaction of
America was not suffered to con-
tinue long.
The
King, regarding the repeal of the Stamp Act as ‘a fatal compliance,’
1 which had for May. ever ‘wounded the majesty’ of
England, and ‘planted thorns’ under his own pillow,
2 preferred the hazard of losing the colonies
3 to tempering the
British claim of absolute authority.
Their denial of that claim and their union were ascribed by his friends to the hesitation of his Ministers, whose measures, they insisted, had prevailed by ‘artifices’ against the real opinion of Parliament; and ‘the coming hour’ was foretold, ‘when he
British Augustus would grieve for the obscuring of the glories of his reign by the loss, not of a province,
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but of an empire more extensive than that of
Rome;
not of three legions, but of whole nations.’
4
No party in
England could prevent an instantaneous reaction.
Pitt had erected no stronger bulwark for
America than the shadowy partition which divides internal taxation from imposts regulating commerce; and
Rockingham had leapt over this slight defence with scorn, declaring the power of Parliament to extend of right to all cases whatsoever.
But they who give absolute power, give the abuse of absolute power; —they who draw the bolts from the doors and windows, let in the robber.
When the opinions of
Bedford and
Grenville became sanctioned as just principles of constitutional law, no question respecting their policy remained open but that of its expediency; and country gentlemen, if they had a right to raise a revenue from
America, were sure that it was expedient to ease themselves of one fourth of their land-tax by exercising the right.
The Administration were evidently without vitality; ‘they are dead and only lying in state,’ was the common remark.
Conway avowed himself eager to resign;
5 and
Grafton not only threw up his office, but, before the House of Lords, addressing the
Prime Minister, who regarded the ascendency of the old whig aristocracy as almost a part of the British constitution, called on him to join in a willingness to be content with an inferior station, for tile sake of accomplishing a junction of the ablest and most experienced statesmen of the country.
6
On the resignation of
Grafton,
Conway, with his accustomed indecision, remained in office, but seized
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the occasion to escape from the care of America
7 to
the Northern Department.
There appeared a great and general backwardness
8 to embark with
Rockingham.
Lord North
9 had hardly accepted a lucrative post, before he changed his mind and excused himself.
Lord Howe would not serve unless under
Pitt.
10 Lord Hardwicke also refused the place left vacant by
Grafton; so did his brother,
Charles Yorke; and so did Egmont; till at last it fell to the husband of
Conway's step-daughter, the liberal, self-confident
Duke of
Richmond; who added grace and courtesy of manners to firm affections, but was swayed by a violent and undiscerning ambition, that far outran his ability.
11 He, too, shunned
12 the conduct of American affairs, and they were made over to a new Department of State, which Dartmouth was to accept,
13 and which
Charles Townshend avowed his hope of obtaining from a future Administration.
Once, to delay his fall,
Rockingham suggested a coalition
14 with the
Duke of
Bedford.
In saloons, female politicians, at their game of loo, divined the ruin of the Ministry, and were zealots for governing the colonies by the hand of power.
15
In
America half suppressed murmurs mingled with the general transport.
Arbitrary taxation by Parliament
16 began to be compared with restrictions on industry
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and trade, and the latter were found to be
‘the more slavish thing of the two,’ and ‘the more inconsistent with civil liberty.’
The protesting Lords had affirmed, that if the provinces might refuse obedience to one statute, they might to all,—that there was no abiding place between unconditional universal submission and independence.
Alarmed that such an alternative should be forced upon them, the colonists, still professing loyalty to a common sovereign, drew nearer and nearer to a total denial of the power of the
British Legislature.
‘I will freely spend nineteen shillings in the pound,’ said
Franklin, ‘to defend my right of giving or refusing the other shilling; and, after all, if I cannot defend that right, I can retire cheerfully with my little family into the boundless woods of
America, which are sure to afford freedom and subsistence to any man who can bait a hook or pull a trigger.’
17 ‘The
Americans,’ said the press of
Virginia,
18 ‘are hasty in expressing their gratitude, if the repeal of the Stamp Act is not at least a tacit compact that
Great Britain will never again tax us;’ and it advised ‘the different Assemblies, without mentioning the proceedings of Parliament, to enter upon their journals as strong declarations of their own rights as words could express.’
19
To the anxious colonies,
Boston proposed union as the means of security.
While within its own borders it sought ‘the total abolishing of slavery,’ and encouraged learning, as the support of the constitution
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and the handmaid of liberty, its representatives
20 were
charged to keep up a constant intercourse with the other English governments on the continent, to conciliate any difference that should arise; ever preferring their friendship and confidence to the demands of rigorous justice.
Henceforth its watchword was union, which the rash conduct of the dismayed
21 officers of the crown contributed to establish.
Bernard was elated at having been praised in the House of Lords by Camden for one set of his opinions, and quoted in the
Bedford Protest as an oracle for the other.
There was even a rumor that he was to be made a baronet.
His superciliousness
22 rose with his sense of personal safety; and he gave out, that on the meeting of the legislature, he should play out his part as Governor.
In choosing the new House in
Massachusetts, many towns, stimulated by the ‘rhapsodies’ of
Otis,
23 put firm patriots in the places of the doubtful and the timid.
Plymouth sent
James Warren, the brotherin-law of
Otis; and
Boston, at the suggestion of
Samuel Adams, gave one of its seats to John Hancock, a young merchant of large fortune and a generous nature.
At their organization, on the last
Wednesday in May, the
Representatives elected
James Otis their Speaker, and
Samuel Adams their Clerk.
Otis was still the most influential Member of the
House; had long been held in great esteem throughout the province; had been its Delegate to the New-York Congress; and had executed that trust to universal acceptance.
24 Though irritable, he was also placable,
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and at heart was truly loyal.
Bernard ostentatiously
negatived the choice.
The negative, as unwise as it was unusual, excited in the whole colony
25 undefined apprehensions of danger; but the
House, deferring to legal right, acquiesced without complaint, and substituted as its Speaker the respectable but irresolute
Thomas Cushing.
In the afternoon of the same day, at the choice of the Council, the four
Judges of the Supreme Court, of whom
Hutchinson was the
Chief, the
King's Attorney, and
Oliver, the
Secretary and late Stamp-master, all Members of the last year's Board, were not reelected; for, said
Samuel Adams, ‘upon the principle of the best writers, a union of the several powers of government in one person is dangerous to liberty.’
26 The ballot had conformed strictly to the charter
27 and to usage, and the successful candidates were men of prudence, uprightness, and loyalty.
But
Bernard ‘resented’
28 the exclusion of the crown officers, and from the whole number of twenty-eight he rejected six
29 of the ablest ‘friends of the people in the board.’
30 He had the legal right to do so; and the Legislature submitted without a murmur.
31
Here the altercation should have terminated.
But on the following day,
Bernard—an ‘abject’ coward,
32 where courage was needed, and now insolent when
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he should have been conciliatory—sought to constrain
the election of
Hutchinson,
Oliver, and two others,
33 and accused the
House of having determined its votes from ‘private interests and resentment and popular discontent,’ disguised ‘under the borrowed garb of patriotism.’
‘It were to be wished,’ he continued, ‘that a veil could be drawn over the late disgraceful scenes.
But that cannot be done till a better temper and understanding shall prevail.
The recent election of Councillors is an attack on government in form, and an ill-judged and ill-timed oppugnation of the
King's authority.’
34
Concurrently,
Rigby, as the leader of the
Bedford party,
35 on the third day of June, proposed in the
British House of Commons an Address to the
King, censuring
America for its ‘rebellious disposition,’ as well as the Ministry for its dilatoriness; pledging Parliament to the coercion of the colonies; and praying that there might be no prorogation till positive assurances should be received from the provincial Governors of the return of the people to obedience.
36
From the ministerial benches
Charles Townshend, professing to oppose the motion, spoke substantially in its favor.
‘It has long been my opinion,’ said he, in conclusion, ‘that
America should be regulated and deprived of its militating and contradictory charters, and its royal Governors,
Judges, and Attorneys be rendered independent of the people.
I therefore expect that the present Administration will, in
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the recess of Parliament, take all the necessary pre-
vious steps for compassing so desirable an event.
The madness and distractions of
America have demanded the attention of the
Supreme Legislature, and the colony Charters have been considered and declared by judges
37 of the realm, inconsistent, and actually forfeited by the audacious and unpardonable Resolves of subordinate Assemblies.
This regulation must no longer be trusted to accidental obedience.
If I should differ in judgment from the present Administration on this point, I now declare, that I must withdraw, and not longer co-operate with persons of such narrow views in government.
But I hope and expect otherwise, trusting that I shall be an instrument among them of preparing a new system.’
38
Rigby was ably supported by Lord North and Thurlow; and especially by
Wedderburn, who railed mercilessly at the
Ministers, in a mixed strain of wit, oratory, and abuse;
39 so that, notwithstanding a spirited speech from
Conway, and a negative to the motion without a division, their helplessness stood exposed.
America was taken out of their control and made the sport of faction.
The very same day on which
Townshend proclaimed a war of extermination against American Charters, similar threats were uttered at
Boston.
In communicating the circular letter from
Conway, proposing ‘to forgive and forget’ the incidents of the
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Stamp Act, and directing the several Governors to
‘recommend’ to the
Colonial Legislatures an indemnification of all sufferers by the riots which it occasioned,
40 Bernard renewed his complaints that the principal crown officers had been dropped from the Council.
‘If,’ said he, ‘this proceeding should be justified by asserting a right, the justification itself would serve to impeach the right.’
41 And inviting them again
42 to choose among others
Hutchinson, whom, after thirty years uninterrupted concern in public affairs, the thought of a retreat, though with the occupation of
Chief Justice and
Judge of Probate, had plunged into melancholy,
43 he added, ‘The fate of the Province is put in a scale, which is to rise or fall according to your present conduct.’
‘The Requisition
44 is founded upon a Resolution of the House of Commons,’ he continued, employing the word which that body, after debate, as well as
Conway, had purposely avoided.
‘The authority with which it is introduced should preclude all disputation about complying with it.’
The patriots of
Massachusetts could hardly find words
45 fit to express their indignation.
Bernard's speeches fell on the ear of
Samuel Adams, as not less ‘infamous and irritating’ than the worst ‘that ever came from a Stuart to the English Parliament;’
46 and with sombre joy he called the Province happy in having for its Governor, one who left to the people no
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option, but between perpetual watchfulness and total
ruin.
‘The free exercise of our undoubted privileges,’ replied the
House,
47 ‘can never, with any color of reason, be adjudged an abuse of our liberty.
We have strictly adhered to the directions of our Charter and the laws of the land.
We made our election with special regard to the qualifications of the candidates.
We cannot conceive how the assertion of our clear Charter right of free election can tend to impeach that right or Charter.
We hope your
Excellency does not mean openly and publicly to threaten us with a deprivation of our Charter privileges, merely for exercising them according to our best judgment.’
‘No branch of the Legislature,’ insisted the Council,
48 ‘has usurped or interfered with the right of another.
Nothing has taken place but what has been constitutional and according to the
Charter.
An election duly made, though disagreeable to the Chair, does not deserve to be called a formal attack upon Government, or an oppugnation of the
King's authority.’
Mayhew, of
Boston, mused anxiously over the danger, which was now clearly revealed, till, in the morning watches of the next
Lord's Day, light dawned upon his excited mind, and the voice of wisdom spoke from his warm heart, which was so soon to cease to beat.
‘You have heard of the communion of churches,’ he wrote to
Otis; ‘while I was thinking of this in my bed, the great use and importance
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of a communion of colonies appeared to me in a
strong light.
Would it not be decorous for our Assembly to send circulars to all the rest, expressing a desire to cement union among ourselves?
A good foundation for this has been laid by the
Congress at
New-York; never losing sight of it may be the only neans of perpetuating our liberties.’
49 The patriot uttered this great word of counsel on the morning of his last day of health in
Boston.
From his youth he had consecrated himself to the service of colonial freedom in the
State and Church; he died, overtasked, in the unblemished beauty of manhood, consumed by his fiery zeal, foreseeing independence.
50 His character was so deeply impressed on the place of his activity, that it is not yet grown over.
Whoever repeats the story of American liberty renews his fame.
The time for intercolonial correspondence was not come; but to keep up a fellow-feeling with its own constituents, the
House, setting an example to be followed by all representative bodies, opened
51 a gallery for the public to attend its debates.
It also sent a grateful Address to the
King,
52 and voted thanks
53 to
Pitt and to
Grafton; and, among many others, to
Conway and
Barre, to Camden and Shelburne; to
Howard, who had refused to draw his sword against the colonies; to
Chesterfield, who left retirement for their relief.
But as to compensating the sufferers by the late disturbances, it upheld its
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right of deliberating freely, and would only pro-
mise at its next session to act as should then appear just and reasonable.
54
Connecticut,
55 overjoyed at the repeal of the Stamp Act and applauding its connection with
Great Britain, elected as its Governor the discreet and patriotic
William Pitkin, in place of the loyalist
Fitch.
The Legislature of South Carolina, retaining, like
Georgia,
56 its avowed sentiments on internal taxation, marked its loyalty by granting every requisition, even for doubtful purposes; at the same time, it asked for the pictures of
Lynch,
Gadsden, and
Rutledge; and on the motion of
Rawlins Lowndes, remitted a thousand pounds towards a statue of
Pitt.
Still they felt keenly that they were undeservedly distinguished from their happier fellow-subjects in
England by the unconstitutional tenure of their judges during the
King's pleasure.
They complained, too, that ships, laden with their rice for ports north of
Cape Finisterre, were compelled, on their outward and return voyage, to touch at some port in
England; and they prayed for modifications of the
Navigation Act, which would equally benefit
Great Britain and themselves.
57
At
New-York, on the
King's birthday, the bells rang merry peals to the strains of martial music and
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the booming of artillery; the Fields near the
Park were spread for feasting; and a tall mast was raised to George the Third,
William Pitt, and Liberty.
At night enormous bonfires blazed; and all was as loyal and happy, as though freedom had been brought back with ample pledges for her stay.
The Assembly came together in the best spirit.
They passed over the claims of
Colden,
58 who was held to have been the cause of his own griefs; but resolved by a majority of one to indemnify
James.
59 They also voted to raise on the
Bowling Green an equestrian statue of George the Third, and a statue of
William Pitt, twice the Preserver of his Country.
But the clause of the Mutiny or Billeting Act, directing colonial legislatures to make specific contributions towards the support of the army, placed
New-York, where the Headquarters were established, in the dilemma of submitting immediately and unconditionally to the authority of Parliament, or taking the lead in a new career of resistance.
60 The rescript was, in theory, worse than the Stamp Act.
For how could one legislative body command what another legislative body should enact And, viewed as a tax, it was unjust, for it threw all the burden on the colony where the troops chanced to be collected.
The Requisition of the
General, made through the
Governor, ‘agreeably to the Act of Parliament,’ was therefore declared to be unprecedented in its character and unreasonable in its amount; yet in the exercise of the right of free
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deliberation, every thing asked for was voted, except
such articles as were not provided in
Europe for British troops which were in barracks.
The General and the
Governor united in accepting the grant; but in reporting the affair, the wellmeaning, indolent
Moore reflected the opinions of the army, whose officers still compared the
Americans to the rebels of
Scotland, and wished them a defeat like that of
Culloden.
61 ‘My message,’ said he at the end of his narrative, ‘is treated merely as a Requisition made here; and they have carefully avoided the least mention of the Act on which it is founded.
It is my opinion, that every Act of Parliament, when not backed by a sufficient power to enforce it, will meet with the same fate.’
62
From
Boston,
Bernard, without any good reason, chimed in with the complainers.
‘This Government,’ said he, ‘quickened and encouraged by the occurrences at
New-York, cannot recover itself by its own internal powers.’
‘The making the
King's Council annually elective, is the fatal ingredient in the constitution.
The only anchor of hope is the sovereign power, which would secure obedience to its decrees, if they were properly introduced and effectually supported.’
63 And he gave himself no rest in soliciting the interposition of Parliament, and the change of the
Charter of
Massachusetts.
64 
