The situation of affairs in America became each day more serious. On his accession to office. Lord Chatham had consented to extract a revenue from the colonies. A customs law had established taxes upon tea, glass, and paper, creating a permanent administration for collecting external imposts. The distinction which the colonists had previously established was thus turned against them, and they abandoned it forever. The time for legal fictions was past. [Footnote 1]
[Footnote 1: Cornelis de Witt's History of Washington.]
In truth there was already between the government of George III. and the colonies something besides a constitutional and financial question. The Americans were no longer simple subjects of the metropolis, merely struggling against such an abuse of power or such a violation of right. It was one people aroused against the oppression of another people, whatever might be the form or the name of that oppression. Still attached to the mother country by the ties of a secular fidelity, and ardently refraining from all aspirations towards independence, they were still dominated by a supreme sentiment—love for the American country, for its grandeur, its liberty, its force. "You are taught to believe that the people of Massachusetts is a rebel people, uprisen for independence," wrote Washington as late as the 9th of October, 1774. "Permit me to tell you, my good friend, that you are deceived, grossly deceived. I can assure you, as a matter of fact, that independence is neither the desire nor the interest of that colony, nor of any other on the continent, separately or collectively. But at the same time you may be sure that not one of them will ever submit to the loss of those privileges, of those precious rights which are essential to every free state, and without which liberty, property, and life are deprived of all security."
America did not fall below her destiny. "From 1767 to 1774," says Cornelis de Witt, in his history of Washington, "there were formed everywhere patriotic leagues against the consumption of English merchandise and the exportation of American products. All exchange between the metropolis and the colonies ceased. In order to drain the sources of England's riches in America, and to constrain it to open its eyes to its folly, the colonists recoiled before no privation and no sacrifice. Luxury had disappeared. Rich and poor accepted ruin rather than abandon their political rights." "I expect nothing more from the petitions to the king," said Washington, already one of the firmest champions of American liberties, "and I should oppose them if they were to suspend the non-importation agreement. As sure as I live, there is no alleviation to be expected for us except from the distress of Great Britain. I think, or at least I hope, that we retain sufficient public virtue to refuse everything except the necessities of life in order to obtain justice. That we have the right to do, and no power on earth can force us to alter our conduct before it has reduced us to the most abject slavery." … And he added, with a stern sense of justice, "As to the non-importation agreement, that is another thing. I admit that I have my doubts as to its legitimacy. We owe considerable sums to Great Britain. We can only pay them with our products. In order to have the right to accuse others of injustice we must be just ourselves; and how could we be so while refusing Great Britain to pay our debts? That is beyond my conception."
All minds were not so firm, nor all souls so just as Washington's. Resistance still continued legal, and the national effort was still retained within the limits of respect. The excitement became more lively every day, irritation more profound and more passionate. Order still reigned in almost all the colonies. Only at some principal places, and especially at Boston, the popular enthusiasm offered a pretext to the violence of George III. and his ministers. Jefferson himself, upon the eve of the drafting of the Declaration of Independence, wrote to Mr. Randolph, "Believe me, my dear sir, there is not a man in the whole British Empire who cherishes the union with Great Britain more heartily than I; but, by the God that made me, I should cease to exist sooner than accept that union on the terms which Parliament proposes. We lack neither motives nor power to declare and sustain our separation. 'Tis the will alone that fails us, and that increases little by little under the hand of our king."
When he was still Sir Charles Pratt, Lord Camden had once said, in 1759, to Franklin, who was charged with the management of the colonies' affairs in London, "In spite of all that you say of your loyalty, you Americans, I know that one day you will sever the bonds which unite you to us, and that you will raise the flag of independence." "No such idea exists, and it will never enter into the head of Americans," answered Franklin, "unless you maltreat them very scandalously." "That is true, and it is precisely one of the causes which I foresee, and which will bring about the consummation."
Lord Camden's prediction was sorrowfully fulfilled in England. Faults succeeded faults. The measures of the metropolitan government, whether indecisive or violent, increased the excitement of the colonies. All the new imposts had been abolished with the exception of the tax on tea, maintained from pride and for the purpose of sustaining a principle without hope of receiving from it a serious revenue. American resistance was immediately concentrated on the importation of tea. At the end of November, 1773, two vessels arrived from England and appeared before Boston. They were laden with tea. Their captains received orders to leave the harbor. They waited for a permit from the governor. The populace boarded them, pillaged the ships, and threw the chests of tea into the sea. George III. and his ministers had not understood the nature of the movement which was agitating America. They thought that they could chastise a riot by new rigors. The rights of the port of Boston were withdrawn, and the ancient charter of Massachusetts was rescinded. "I will tell you what the Americans have done," said Lord North; "they have maltreated the officers and subjects of Great Britain; they have despoiled our merchants, burnt our ships, refused all obedience to our laws and our authority. We have used a long patience in respect to them. It is time to adopt another line of conduct. Whatever may be the consequences, we must resign ourselves to running some risks, without which all is lost."
It was in the name of the eternal principles of justice and of liberty that Lord Chatham and his friends of the opposition protested against the measures adopted with reference to the colonies. "Liberty," said the great orator, passionately, employing in the struggle the remnant of his failing strength; "liberty is arrayed against liberty. They are indissolubly united in this great cause. It is the alliance of God and nature, immutable and eternal as the light in the firmament of heaven! Beware! Foreign war hangs over your heads by a light and fragile thread. Spain and France are watching your conduct, waiting the result of your errors. Their eyes are turned upon America, and they are more occupied with the disposal of your colonies than with their own affairs, whatever they may be. I repeat to you, my lords, if his Majesty's ministers persevere in their fatal designs, I do not say that they can alienate from him the affections of his subjects, but I affirm that they are destroying the greatness of the crown. I do not say that the king is betrayed; I say that the country is lost."