The Declaratory Act has been represented as the price paid by a weak and divided ministry for the repeal of the stamp tax, as a solace to the offended pride and dignity of the British Parliament. This view was supported in the debate on the motion to repeal the act in 1777, and there is other evidence to sustain it. If such, indeed, be the truth, it shows only more clearly how serious was the dilemma in which the short-sighted policy of Grenville had involved the government.
Events were soon to prove that the price paid was very dear. For the moment, the colonists united in spontaneous thank-offering for the boon of justice which had been granted them. "The repeal of the Stamp Act," wrote John Adams, "has hushed into silence almost every popular clamor, and composed every wave of popular disorder into a smooth and peaceful calm." The Sons of Liberty ceased to meet. No one thought of separation. Nothing was needed but a moderately wise policy on the part of the home government to hold the affectionate allegiance of the American people. "A feeling of real and genuine loyalty to the mother-country appears to have at this time existed in the colonies, though it required much skill to maintain it."
Such skill was utterly lacking. The rejoicings of the colonies were short-lived. From the outset, some among them had favored united opposition to the declaratory act, and other grounds for the revival of discontent were not wanting. First among these was the attempted enforcement of the billeting or mutiny act, which had been renewed under the Rockingham administration. The clause requiring the colonial assemblies to make provision for quartering the king's troops was held to be unconstitutional, because a command was thus laid by one legislative body upon another; and unjust, since the whole burden would fall upon the colonies where the army chanced to be located.
Resistance was first made in New York, then the headquarters of the British force in America. The requisition for supplies made by the general through the governor was granted only in part by the provincial assembly, because some of the articles demanded were such as in England were not provided for troops when in barracks. The bill making partial provision was approved by Sir Henry Moore, the governor, although in his letter to the ministry, he did not concede the justice of the assembly's plea. He significantly added, "My Message is treated merely as a Requisition made here, and they have carefully avoided the least mention of the act on which it is founded, and 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." In reply to the governor's report, Shelburne, then secretary of state, announced that the king expected obedience to the act in its full extent and meaning; thus needlessly laying up ample store of future trouble. The assembly refused to comply, and "in their answer to the governor's speech to them, called in question the authority of parliament." The result was the suspension of the assembly by the Townshend Acts, presently to be considered.
Massachusetts was following the example of New York. A company of artillery, recently arrived in Boston, had been lodged in the barracks at Castle William, and, according to custom, Governor Bernard, with the advice of the council, had issued a warrant on the treasury to pay the expense of providing it with fire and candles. At the January session, 1767, the House of Representatives expressed their resentment at this proceeding. The governor was asked "whether any provision has been made, at the expense of this government, for his Majesty's troops lately arrived in this harbor, and by whom?" and whether his "Excellency has reason to expect the arrival of any more to be quartered in this province?" In his answer, Bernard alleged that provision for the artillery had been made in pursuance of the late billeting act of Parliament, and that he had "received no advice whatever of any other troops being quartered in this province." Whereupon the house promptly responded "that it is by virtue of the royal charter alone, that the Governor and Council have any authority to issue money out of the treasury, and that only according to such acts as are, or may be, in force within this province."
At the same time, the house claimed for itself "the privilege of originating, granting, and disposing of taxes"; and expressed "concern that an act of Parliament should yet be in being, which appears to us to be as real a grievance" as the stamp tax, "which so justly alarmed the continent." In reply, the governor, shifting his ground, claimed that his course was fully "justified not only by the usage of this government, but by the authority of the General Court itself," and so the incident was allowed to drop.
Another measure of the British government, reasonable and just in itself, though impolitic, was destined, partly through the manner of its execution, to become a source of irritation. Under the authority of a resolution of the House of Commons, Secretary Conway, in a circular letter, asked the colonial assemblies to compensate the sufferers for the property destroyed in the Stamp Act riots. In most cases, the colonies were slow in responding. The request was looked upon as unwarranted interference by Parliament: it was insisted that indemnity, if granted, should be the free and spontaneous act of the people through their own representatives.
In Massachusetts, notably, resistance was provoked through the unwise conduct of the governor. Bernard was honest and well-meaning, but short-sighted in policy and arrogant in manner. He was as indiscreet in his acts as he was violent in his speeches. Earlier, he had sympathized with the popular cause. He had opposed the Sugar Act as unjust and the Stamp Act as inexpedient, while maintaining in principle the right of parliamentary taxation. But in his confidential correspondence with the ministry, he zealously urged a remodelling of the colonial charters in favor of a uniform and more centralized type of government; and his injudicious course in the present crisis proved him entirely unfit for his post.
At the meeting of the general court on May 29, 1766, when the repeal of the Stamp Act was announced, Bernard managed to get into a bitter quarrel with the house. First, he vetoed the choice of James Otis as speaker; then the house declined to re-elect to the council the lieutenant-governor, the secretary, the attorney-general, and one of the judges of the superior court; in revenge, the governor negatived the choice of six persons belonging to the popular party. Thus, he put himself thoroughly in the wrong; for the house had the clearest right to ignore the officers of the crown in the choice of councillors, if it saw fit. According to Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, who was himself thus rejected, Bernard "had equal right to declare his disapprobation of the persons elected. ... Governors, to avoid giving offence, had, from disuse, almost lost their right of negativing the council. The house had kept up their right by constant use, though never by making so great a change at once, except in one instance, at the time of the land bank."
The house did not complain of the governor's exercise of his legal authority, but Bernard, by impugning his adversaries' motives, delivered himself into their hands. He petulantly accused them of attacking the government "in form"; of having the "prof est intention to deprive it of its best and most able servants, whose only crime is their fidelity to the Crown"; and, referring to his vetoes, he declared himself "obliged to exercise every legal and constitutional power to maintain the king's authority against this ill judged and ill timed oppugnation of it." These and similar indiscreet utterances in his speech gave the house a decided advantage, of which in its reply it made unsparing use.
A few days later, the governor took another false step. On June 3, in imperious tone, he placed before the council and house what he styled the "requisition" for compensation, "based on a resolution of the House of Commons," thus using the word which both the Commons, after debate, and Conway, in his letter, had carefully avoided. "The authority with which it is introduced," he said, "should preclude all disputation about complying with it." At the same time, in terms which were construed as a threat to take away the charter, he attacked the house for excluding Hutchinson and the other officials from the council. Very naturally, the house declined to consider the requisition before it had consulted the towns; and not until the next general court in November was a bill finally passed, "granting compensation to the sufferers, and general pardon, indemnity, and oblivion to the offenders, in the late times." Even the fines already paid by the latter were returned. It is, perhaps, not surprising that the bill was vetoed by the king, but not before the money had been paid in accordance with its provisions. These incidents are here dwelt upon because such unseemly bickerings, often provoked by the folly of the royal governors, had much to do with the development of revolutionary sentiment.
Meanwhile, in England, events of the greatest importance for the colonies were taking place. Already, in July 1766, the feeble administration of Rockingham had fallen. Grafton became nominal head of the new ministry, while its real head was Pitt, who, to the disappointment of his friends throughout the world, presently entered the House of Lords as Earl of Chatham. To Conway was given the leadership of the Commons; Shelburne took charge of colonial affairs; Camden became lord chancellor; and, against the judgment of Pitt, Charles Townshend was entrusted with the exchequer. The administration soon proved itself to be weak and disunited. Pitt, enfeebled by disease and depressed by the consciousness of waning popularity due to his acceptance of a peerage, soon ceased to take an active part in public business. In October, he retired to Bath to try the virtue of its healing waters. At once, Charles Townshend came forward to seize the leadership of the ministry. "From this time," admits Lecky, "the English government of America is little more than a series of deplorable blunders."
January 26, 1767, Grenville moved that "America, like Ireland, should support an establishment of her own." The burden, he said, would be about £400,000, or a sum nearly equal to one shilling in the pound of the land tax. In the debate which ensued, Townshend declared that " administration has applied its attention to give relief to Great Britain from bearing the whole expense of securing, defending, and protecting America and the West India islands; I shall bring into the house some propositions that I hope may tend, in time, to ease the people of England upon this head, and yet not be heavy in any manner upon the people in the colonies. I know the mode by which a revenue may be drawn from America without offence." Continuing, he said he was still a firm advocate of the stamp tax; that he laughed at the "absurd distinction" between internal and external taxes, a distinction "ridiculous in the opinion of everybody except the Americans"; and he pledged himself to find a revenue nearly sufficient for the military expenses in America. 2 The ministers were astonished at this bold usurpation of leadership. Not only was Townshend's pledge given without knowledge of the cabinet, but in opposition to the "known decision of all of its members." Yet in the absence of Chatham, neither Grafton nor anyone else had sufficient authority to demand the dismissal of the insubordinate minister.
Soon after this, on February 27, the government was defeated on an important measure. Acting on the suggestion of Grenville already mentioned, the land tax was reduced by one shilling in the pound; thus, in effect, making another attempt to secure a revenue from America inevitable. Chatham was too ill to cause the removal of Townshend, and from this time onward, practically ceased to take any part in the cabinet councils.
The Chancellor of the Exchequer now dominated the ministry, and so he proceeded to take the first step in the redemption of his pledge. In May, 1767, he secured the enactment of three laws; by one the New York assembly was suspended until it should comply with the mutiny act; by another a board of commissioners of the customs, with large powers, was established in America to administer the acts of trade; while a third laid an import duty on glass, red and white lead, paper, and tea. It was expected that this tax would produce about £40,000, to be expended under the king's sign-manual in providing salaries for the royal judges and governors in America. By this revenue act, writs of assistance were formally legalized, and the drawback of the import duty hitherto allowed the East India Company on the re-exportation of china and earthenware to America was discontinued. This was offset by granting a drawback on re-exportation of the entire duty paid in England on coffee and cocoa produced in America; and by a separate act, a similar drawback for five years was granted on the re-exportation of tea from England to Ireland or the colonies.
Townshend professed to believe that the Americans would submit to his revenue law because, unlike the Stamp Act, it established an "external" tax on imports. The result soon showed how fatally he deceived himself. The new measure was clearly more dangerous than the old. Like the latter, it created a tax for revenue, but now the revenue was to be used in giving the crown complete control of the colonial governors and the colonial judges. The assemblies would no longer have any check upon them. So long as the abuse existed of appointing the provincial judges during the king's pleasure, to make them solely dependent upon the crown for their salaries would be to invite corruption and tyranny; and the evils sure to arise from the similar position of the royal governors would be nearly as bad.
Moreover, the new policy was inaugurated just after the colonists were elated by a signal victory in the repeal of the Stamp Act. A notable change was taking place in their attitude regarding the authority of Parliament. Many of the leaders no longer drew the line at internal taxation for revenue. Already in the debate on the request for indemnity, Joseph Hawley of Massachusetts had won the approval of Otis by declaring that Parliament "has no right to legislate for us." From this time onward, the popular cry of "No representation, no taxation" was rapidly changed for "No representation, no legislation."
Everywhere in the colonies, the Townshend Acts suspending the functions of the New York assembly and imposing a tax for revenue were regarded as unconstitutional. Once more, the continent was roused to discussion: non-importation agreements were again signed; resolutions, addresses, and memorials were again prepared; the printing-press became active. But in the outset, the new movement was ominously free from violence; the people were learning the value of self-restraint. November 20, when the revenue act was to take effect, passed quietly away.
In this crisis, the best expression of popular sentiment came from John Dickinson of Pennsylvania. In the Farmer's Letters, published before the close of 1767, he endeavored "to convince the people of these colonies, that they are, at this moment, exposed to the most imminent dangers; and to persuade them, immediately, vigorously, and unanimously, to exert themselves, in the most firm but most peaceable manner, for obtaining relief." Liberty's cause is "of too much dignity, to be sullied by turbulence and tumult. It ought to be maintained in a manner suitable to her nature. Those who engage in it should breathe a sedate yet fervent spirit, animating them to actions of prudence, justice, modesty, bravery, humanity, and magnanimity." He repudiates the thought of independence. "Let us behave like dutiful children, who have received unmerited blows from a beloved parent"; but "let these truths be indelibly impressed on our minds: that we cannot be happy, without being free; that we cannot be free, without being secure in our property; that we cannot be secure in our property, if, without our consent, others may, as by right, take it away; that taxes imposed on us by parliament, do thus take it away." "Great Britain claims and exercises the right to prohibit manufactures in America. Once admit that she may lay duties upon her exportations to us, for the purpose of levying money on us only, she then will have nothing to do but to lay those duties on the articles which she prohibits us to manufacture, and the tragedy of American liberty is finished."
Organized action against the new measures was first taken in Massachusetts. October 28, 1767, the Boston town-meeting renewed the non-importation agreement, and its proceedings were published in the newspapers under the heading, "Save your money, and you save your country." The leading spirit in the assembly, which came together on December 30, was its clerk, Samuel Adams. In January 1768, the house, after long discussion, adopted a letter to DeBerdt, the colonial agent, written by Adams, and intended to be placed before the ministry. Letters were also sent to Chatham, Camden, Rockingham, and others, while a loyal petition was presented to the king. In these documents, the old arguments against parliamentary taxation were renewed, and the recent acts were characterized as unjust and unconstitutional. On February 11, 1768, a circular letter to the other assemblies on the continent was adopted. In this letter, which, like the petition to the king, was drawn by Samuel Adams, the house gave an account of its own action, and suggested the need of harmony " upon so delicate a point." All these papers are admirable in form and very moderate in tone. The general supremacy of Parliament under the constitution is frankly admitted; all thought of independence is disclaimed, while the dangerous tendency of the recent legislation is pointed out.
The circular letter drew forth sympathetic replies from the assemblies of New Hampshire, Virginia, New Jersey, and Connecticut, with cordial letters from the speakers of the houses of Georgia, South Carolina, and Rhode Island. The action of Virginia is noteworthy. Not only was the course taken by Massachusetts approved, but her example was imitated in a circular letter to the other colonies, calling upon them to unite in her petition for a redress of grievances.
September 4, 1767, that brilliant but rash and shallow politician, Charles Townshend, died, "leaving to his successors the legacy of his disastrous policy in America, but having achieved absolutely nothing to justify the extraordinary reputation he possessed among his contemporaries." His place as chancellor of the exchequer was taken by Lord North, and a few months later, Lord Hillsborough was placed in charge of the new office of secretary of state for the colonies. With these and some other changes, the government came into the hands of Bedford's friends, who were bent on enforcing the supremacy of Parliament.
Royal officials in America represented the colonists as aiming at independence, and their opposition to the Townshend Acts as riotous violations of the law. In particular, the new commissioners of customs wrote to the lords of the treasury that a design had been formed in Boston to force them, on March 18, the anniversary of the repeal of the Stamp Act, to renounce their commissions. "The governor and magistracy," they asserted, "have not the least authority or power in this place. We depend on the favor of the mob for our protection. We cannot answer for our security for a day, much less will it be in our power to carry the revenue laws into effect." Moreover, they applied directly to the commander at Halifax for an armed force.
The circular letter of the Massachusetts house came before Hillsborough on April 15, 1768, while he was angered by these false reports. At once, he laid it before the cabinet. On the 21st, in the king's name he sent a letter to the governor of each of the twelve other colonies, enclosing the circular, which was described as "of a most dangerous and factious tendency," likely "to promote an unwarrantable combination, and to excite open opposition to parliament," ordering him to exert his "utmost influence to prevail upon the assembly" to take "no notice of it, which will be treating it with the contempt it deserves. If they give any countenance to this seditious paper, it will be your duty to prevent any proceedings upon it by an immediate prorogation or dissolution." The next day he wrote to Bernard, commanding him to "require of the house of representatives, in his majesty's name, to rescind the resolution which gave birth to the circular letter of the speaker, and to declare their disapprobation of that rash and hasty proceeding." In effect, through these ill-advised orders, the minister recklessly sent forth a challenge to controversy whose acceptance a sensitive and self-respecting people could hardly avoid. Indeed, from this moment, the march of events tends straight towards the dissolution of the empire.
The royal requisition was placed by Bernard before the assembly on June 21. The discussion, which lasted nine days, was opened by James Otis. He showed the absurdity of requiring the house to rescind the resolution of a preceding assembly, which had already been executed. "When Lord Hillsborough knows that we will not rescind our acts," he exclaimed, "he should apply to parliament to rescind theirs. Let Britain rescind her measures, or the colonies are lost to her forever." On June 30, in a secret session, the House refused to rescind by a vote of 92 to 17. At the same time, in a letter to Hillsborough it "humbly" relies "on the royal clemency, that to petition his Majesty will not be deemed by him to be inconsistent with a respect to the British constitution, as settled at the revolution"; or that acquainting "their fellow subjects ... of their having done so, ... would not be discountenanced ... as a measure of an inflamatory nature." In reply to Bernard's message, the house defended its course and professed reverence for both Parliament and the king.
The response of America to the letter of Hillsborough requiring the assemblies to treat the Massachusetts circular with contempt was hardly what he expected, but it was emphatic and harmonious. Everywhere, the new colonial policy excited indignant remonstrance. "The people manifested their approval of the doings of their representatives by votes of thanks, by joyful demonstrations, and re-elections. County meetings and town meetings called for union, for a continuance of correspondence, and for a general congress — in some instances towns pledging life and fortune in support of their American brethren."
Throughout the colonies, where any action was taken, the assemblies refused to obey the demands of the governors for the enforcement of Hillsborough's requisition. On the contrary, the action of Massachusetts was commended; and sometimes petitions to the king and remonstrances to the Commons were drawn up. The reply of the assembly of Maryland to the arrogant message of Governor Sharpe gives typical expression to the popular feeling. "What we shall do upon this occasion, or whether in consequence of that Letter we shall do anything, it is not our present business to communicate to your Excellency; but of this be pleased to be assured, that we cannot be prevailed on to take no notice of, or treat with the least degree of contempt, a letter so expressive of duty and loyalty to the sovereign, and so replete with just principles of liberty; and your Excellency may depend that, whenever we apprehend the rights of the people to be affected, we shall not fail boldly to assert and steadily endeavor to maintain and support them, always remembering, what we could wish never to forget, that by the bill of rights it is declared, 'That it is the right of the subject to petition the king, and all commitments and prosecutions for such petitioning are illegal."
Thus, the first result of the Townshend legislation was the development of American public opinion. The ultimate results, as will presently appear, were first mob violence and then revolution.