The British Ministry did not discover the means by which the colonies were to be retained, if retained at all. Our ancestors had little respect for hereditary privileges and the pretensions of birth. They were for the most part believers in the equality of the human race; and, moreover, in their municipal governments, they had learned the safety and power of universal suffrage. A few men only in England had an accurate idea of American principles, or the difficulty of holding in unwilling embrace three million people. Among the representatives of this small class were the elder Pitt, Burke, and Wilkes.
Pitt declared that "three million people, so dead to all the feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of ourselves."
Said Wilkes, "Know, then, that a successful resistance is a revolution, not a rebellion. Who can tell whether in a few years the independent Americans may not celebrate the glorious era of the revolution of 1775 as we do that of 1688?" Nor did his prophetic eye fail to penetrate even the distant future. "Where your fleets and armies are stationed," said he, "the possession will be secured, while they continue; but all the rest will be lost. In the great scale of empire, you will decline, I fear, from the decision of this day; and the Americans will rise to independence, to power, to all the greatness of the most renowned states; for they build on the solid basis of general public liberty." These were words of wisdom; but nations, like individual men, learn anything sooner than their own faults, and confess anything sooner than their own mistakes.
It is difficult for the historian to understand the policy of attempting to control America by force; for nothing is more certain than that, if we had failed in establishing our independence, Great Britain would also have failed in subjecting us to her schemes. After the shedding of blood at Lexington, reconciliation was impossible; nor is it certain that it could have been accomplished after the massacre in King Street, in 1770. To be sure the proceedings of the towns and the tone of all the memorials and petitions indicate this; but there were unquestionably men who thought it better that the connection should be dissolved at as early a period as possible. These men were right, both as regards our condition and the prosperity of England. Had we remained her subjects, like all colonies, we should have been of no advantage pecuniarily, and most likely a source of some expense. But with independence and the Constitution came prosperity to us, in which, through trade and the increased demand for her manufactures, England has largely participated.
Had she consented, in 1775, to the peaceful dismemberment of her empire, the independence of America, under such circumstances, would have increased her glory, spared her treasury, and saved her laborers form the pressure of taxes under which they have been weighed down. It may be, however, that the war was necessary to us. In ante- Revolutionary times there was not a strong tendency to union—in many parts of the country the opposite feeling existed. Even the Constitution was framed with difficulty, and received with hesitation and doubt. The Constitution is not so much the result as the cause of our national character. The colonies had had different foundations. Some were English, some were Dutch, some were Roundheads, some Cavaliers, some were Catholics, some Protestants, some Baptists, some Quakers, some Congregationalists; and, finally, some of the colonies were free and some held slaves. It is apparent that there was not that tendency to union which was necessary to the formation of the Constitution. But the mutual dependence which the mutual necessities of the war produced convinced many of the propriety of a common government—a government which should be adequate to a time of peace and to a condition of war—a government which should guard each State from civil commotion and protect its citizens and commerce in every part of the world. It is evident that the free surrender of jurisdiction would have left the colonies to many years of separate existence, and controversies which might have passed into open hostility. The period between peace and the adoption of the Constitution was hardly more desirable than the previous condition of war. The currency was disordered and without value, the revenue systems of the different States were various and injurious to legitimate commerce, while the want of uniform laws upon subjects altogether national, was everywhere observed. A general government, adequate to the necessities of the nation, was not established until the inadequacy of the State governments had been felt in peace and war; but war more than peace created bonds of sympathy, and inspired confidence among the States.
The Revolution opened in Massachusetts. This province having been marked by the British Government, was not at all reluctant to take a prominent position in the controversies from 1765 to 1775. Therefore the attack was properly directed here, and here with equal propriety the first forcible resistance was made to British aggression.
The difficulties with Massachusetts were a century old. The colony charter had been annulled—her territory on the Merrimack and the Narragansett had been transferred to neighboring colonies, and the men whom she had elected to preside in her House of Representatives had been repeatedly rejected.
There had been from the first an ardent desire in the colony to establish a free Christian commonwealth, and on the part of England to maintain, if not extend, the power of the British Parliament. In May, 1774, as the representative of the latter purpose, General Gage arrived in Boston, and was soon followed by considerable bodies of troops. In August of the same year measures were taken for a Provincial Congress, to concert and execute an effectual plan for counteracting the system of despotism which had been introduced. The Congress instructed the general officers "effectually to oppose and resist" all attempts to execute the obnoxious acts of the British Parliament; and by a singular coincidence on the same day, February 9, 1775, the Parliament pledged the lives and property of the Commons to the support of those laws. On the side of the Americans, the courts were declared unconstitutional and their officers traitors—and the practice of the military art was earnestly recommended.
By the 1st of September, 1774, the issue was fairly presented. The claim on one side was the supremacy of the British Parliament, and on the other the supremacy of the American people. Parliament claimed the right to legislate for or over the colonies in all cases whatsoever; this right the colonists denied. Parliament had asserted its supremacy by the passage, in May, 1774, of "An act for the better regulating the government of the province of Massachusetts Bay," and "An act for the more impartial administration of justice in said province." Submission to these acts was the test. They would not execute themselves. Their precise character was of no great importance to the people. It was a question of right, of authority, and not of detail. Had the acts been less oppressive, or even more so, the principle at issue would not have been changed. In August, 1774, one hundred and fifty of the best men of Middlesex assembled in the adjacent town of Concord, and uttered these memorable words:
"We are obliged to say, however painful it may be to us, that the question now is, whether by a submission to some of the late acts of the Parliament of Great Britain, we are contented to be the most abject slaves, and entail that slavery on posterity after us, or, by a manly, joint and virtuous opposition, assert and support our freedom. There is a mode of conduct which, in our very critical circumstances we wish to adopt—a conduct, on the one hand, never tamely submissive to tyranny and oppression; on the other, never degenerating into rage, passion and confusion." Again, "We must now exert ourselves, or all those efforts which for ten years past have brightened the annals of this country, will be totally frustrated. Life and Death, or what is more, Freedom and Slavery, are in a peculiar sense now before us; and that choice and success, under God, depend greatly on ourselves. We are therefore bound, as struggling not only for ourselves, but for future generations, to express our sentiments in the following resolves —sentiments which we think are founded in truth and justice, and therefore sentiments we are determined to abide by." In conclusion they say "no danger shall affright, no difficulties intimidate us; and if, in support of our rights, we are called to encounter even death, we are yet undaunted, sensible that he can never die too soon who lays down his life in support of the laws and liberties of his country."