During the whole period of her controversy with Great Britain, America was deriving a constant increase of strength, not merely from domestic growth, but by the immense volume of emigration from Europe. No complete record remains of its amount, but sufficient facts are known to show how vast it had become. “Within the first fortnight of August, 1773, there arrived at Philadelphia 3,500 emigrants from Ireland; and from the same document which has recorded this circumstance, it appears that vessels were arriving every month freighted with emigrants from Holland, Germany, and especially from Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland. About 700 Irish settlers repaired to the Carolinas in the autumn of 1773; and in the course of the same season no fewer than ten vessels sailed from Britain with Scottish Highlanders emigrating to the American States.” Connecticut in ten years gained 50,000 in population, and when the final rupture occurred with the mother country, the United States had already reached the important number of about three and a quarter millions, or say a good million over the united populations of the Australasian colonies of to-day, including New Zealand. And it must never be forgotten that of the new-comers a large proportion were flying from grievances at home to which [pg 70]they could no longer submit, and that they therefore added to and fanned the discontent prevailing in America. In view of such facts the action of the home Government is nearly inexplicable.
When the intelligence of the destruction of the tea reached England, although it was obvious that the opposition which had been shown was common to all the colonies, it was determined to make an example of Boston. “It was reckoned that a partial blow might be dealt to America with much greater severity than could be prudently exacted in more extensive punishment; and it was, doubtless, expected that the Americans in general, without being provoked by personal suffering, would be struck with terror by the rigour inflicted on a city so long renowned as the bulwark of their liberties. Without even the decent formality of requiring the inhabitants of Boston to exculpate themselves, but definitely assuming their guilt in conformity with the despatches of a governor who was notoriously at enmity with them, the Ministers introduced into Parliament a bill for suspending the trade and closing the harbour of Boston during the pleasure of the king. They declared that the duration of this severity would depend entirely upon the conduct of the objects of it; for it would doubtless be relaxed as soon as the people of Boston should make compensation for the tea that had been destroyed, and otherwise satisfy the king of their sincere purpose to render due submission to his Government.” The bill encountered little or no opposition in Parliament, a few members only contending that milder measures should be tried. It is impossible to imagine such an occasion to-day. Think of the ports of Sydney or Melbourne, for example, being closed to all trade and commerce from outside, and hundreds of vessels prevented from unloading or loading there, because of irritation prevailing among the Australians, entirely produced by unwise legislation, and unjust taxation on the part of the mother country. Yet this is what was done with our American colonies little more than a hundred years ago.
Mark what followed. On the arrival of the first copy of the Boston Port Bill a town meeting was convened in that city, and it was recommended, “That all commercial intercourse whatever with Britain and the West Indies should be renounced by the American States till the repeal of the Act.” At Philadelphia a liberal subscription was made for the relief of such of the poorer inhabitants of Boston whose livelihood had been ruined by this arbitrary proceeding. The Virginian House of Burgesses appointed the date on which the operation of the Act was to commence as a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer.
On the 1st of June, 1774, the operation of the Boston Port Bill commenced. All the commercial business of the capital of Massachusetts was concluded at noon, and the harbour of this flourishing port was closed—till the gathering storm of the Revolution was to re-open it. “At Williamsburgh, in Virginia, the day was devoutly consecrated to the religious exercises which had been recommended by the Assembly. At Philadelphia it was solemnised by a great majority of the population with every testimonial of public grief; all the inhabitants, except the Quakers, shut up their houses; and after divine service a deep and ominous silence reigned through the city. In other parts of America it was also observed as a day of mourning; and the sentiments thus widely awakened were kept alive and exasperated by the distress to which the inhabitants of Boston were reduced from the [pg 71]continued operation of the Port Bill, and by the fortitude with which they endured it. The rents of all the land-holders in and around Boston now ceased, or were greatly diminished; all the wealth which had been vested in warehouses and wharfs was rendered unproductive; from the merchants was wrested the commerce which they had reared, and the means alike of providing for their families and paying their debts; all the artificers employed in the numerous occupations created by an extensive trade shared the general hardships; and a great majority of that class of the community who earned daily bread by their daily labour were deprived of the means of support.” The sympathy shown by the sister colonies was highly creditable, and often took the form of substantial relief. The inhabitants of Marblehead offered to the Boston merchants the use of their harbours, wharfs, and warehouses, together with their personal services in lading and unlading goods, free of all expense. The citizens of Salem (in the same State as Boston) concluded a remonstrance against the British measures as follows:—“By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that the course of trade might be turned hither, and to our benefit.... We must be lost to every idea of justice, and dead to all the feelings of humanity, could we indulge one thought of raising our fortunes on the ruins of our suffering neighbours.” A country so thoroughly bound together surely deserved the independence which a couple of years later it secured.
No better excuse can be urged for England than that her hands were constantly full at this period. When there was not actual war there were always rumours of war. Fortunately for our country, in its greatest need its greatest hero’s star was in the ascendant. How often in these pages must we recur again and again to the name of Nelson? The year after America had declared her independence, he was, it is true, but simply a lieutenant, and scarcely over nineteen years of age. He had already seen some service. He had been to the West Indies and to the Arctic Ocean, where, on Captain Phipps’ expedition, occurred one of those little incidents which indicated a hero in embryo. Young Nelson was one day missing, and though every search was instantly made for him, it seemed entirely in vain, and all imagined he was lost. Somebody at length discovered him at a considerable distance off, on the ice, armed with a single musket, and fighting away with some object which, on nearer approach, proved to be an immense bear. Always slight in frame, and comparatively feeble in body, what was the youngster about? It was found that the lock of his musket proving useless, he had pursued the animal with the hope of tiring him, and then intended to knock him on the head. On his return he was reprimanded for leaving the ship without permission, and asked why he had been so rash. The young hero replied, “I wished, sir, to get the skin for my father;” and although there is no record of the fact, it may well be believed that his little escapade was not very severely punished. Almost immediately after his return from the frozen regions, we find him in the East Indies, where his health nearly gave way. For the second time in Nelson’s career we find him almost abandoning the sea. “I felt impressed,” wrote he long afterwards, “with an idea that I should never rise in my profession. My mind was staggered with a view of the difficulties which I had to surmount, and the little interest I possessed. I could discover no means of reaching the object of my ambition. After a long and gloomy reverie, in which I almost wished myself overboard, a sudden glow of [pg 73]patriotism was kindled within me, and hope presented my king and country as my patrons. ‘Well then,’ I exclaimed, ‘I will be a hero, and confiding in Providence, I will brave every danger.’ ” From that moment his aspirations became inspirations, and he believed fully that
“The light which led him on,
Was light from Heaven.”
NELSON AND THE BEAR.
The young sailor, or he who may become one, may learn very much from the earlier part of Nelson’s career. Again and again was he disappointed, and although momentarily irritable, he always ended by looking forward to the inevitable reward due to the man who places country and duty above all other considerations. After his services at Bastia and Calvi, where he lost that eye which afterwards served him so well from its blindness, his bravery was altogether overlooked in the despatches. “One hundred and ten days,” said he, “I have been actually engaged at sea and on shore against the enemy; three actions against ships, two against Bastia in my own ship, four boat actions, two villages taken, and twelve sail of vessels burnt. I do not know that any one has done more; I have had the comfort to be always applauded by my commanders-in-chief, but never to be rewarded; and, what is more mortifying, for services in which I have been wounded, others have been praised who, at the time, were actually in bed, far from the [pg 74]scene of action. They have not done me justice; but never mind—I’ll have a gazette of my own!”