Two years later, however, in connection with the Dr. Child petition, and the order of the English Commissioners concerning Samuel Gorton, the local aspects of which have been discussed in a previous chapter, the General Court undertook to define the colony's relations to England more definitely. While there was some difference of opinion, the majority of the magistrates and of the clergy consulted took the stand that by the charter they had “absolute power of government,” with authority to “make laws, to erect all sorts of magistracy, to correct, punish, pardon, govern, and rule the people absolutely,” without the interposition of any superior power. They denied that any appeal lay against any of their proceedings, or that they were bound, “further than in a way of justification,” to make answer to any complaints against them in England. They drew a distinction between corporations within England and those without, asserted that plantations were above the rank of ordinary corporations, and added that “our allegiance binds us not to the laws of England any longer than while we live in England, for the laws of the parliament of England reach no further, nor do the King's writs under the great seal.” They did, indeed, acknowledge some sort of shadowy and undefined allegiance, and claimed protection by the mother-country as a right.[[765]]
This theory of virtual independence was reasserted by the Court in the year following the Restoration, with the addition that they conceived that “any imposition prejudicial to the country, contrary to any just law” not repugnant to the laws of England, was an infringement of their rights, and that the colony was privileged to defend itself, even by force of arms, against any who should attempt its “destruction, invasion, detriment or annoyance.”[[766]] The duties of allegiance were defined somewhat more exactly than they had been fifteen years earlier, and somewhat differently; but any sovereign rights of the English government over its dependencies in the Empire were denied.[[767]] More and more, not merely in theory, but in the form that the colony's negotiations took with the home authorities through its agents, it was endeavoring to assume the position, not of an integral part of an empire, but of an allied sovereign power.
The attitude of Massachusetts has been noted because her position was far more pronouncedly anti-English than was that of her sister colonies in the group. Not only were the governments of Plymouth, Rhode Island, and Connecticut more democratic than that of Massachusetts, but the individual citizens of those plantations were quite as tenacious of their individual rights. Nevertheless, there was a much less aggressive tone in their relations with the mother-country, and a greater readiness to acknowledge imperial obligations in return for imperial benefits. As we have seen, however, the frontier-spirit was at work throughout the entire range of empire; and, while probably, neither at that time, nor at any period down to the formation of the union, was the anti-English element in Massachusetts as large as used to be thought, nevertheless it was the radical, and not the loyal and conservative element, which mainly determined her policy, and, gradually, that of New England.
If we wish to apportion fairly the praise and blame due to individuals and peoples in history,—if indeed it is ever possible to do so,—we must endeavor to look at their actions from a purely contemporary point of view, and to ignore long-subsequent results. The modern historian has come to realize that the qualities of a people, the characteristics of an epoch, the motives of a great struggle or movement, are by no means the clear-cut, sharply defined matters sketched by the patriotic writers of a simpler day. In the enormously complicated development of modern society from the struggle of class with class, the conflict of interest with interest, the clash of one element against another, it is recognized that the contest was at no time between clearly aligned forces of the powers of darkness and the powers of light. “It is beginning to be seen,” writes Professor McIlwain, speaking of the early constitutional struggle at the time of de Montfort, “that men in the past have really advanced the cause of liberty, though often entirely unconscious of any such intention, or even when their aims were entirely selfish.”[[768]]
The resistance to England by her colonies in the past, on many occasions and from many quarters, has undoubtedly advanced the cause of liberty throughout the entire Anglo-Saxon race. The statesmen of England in the seventeenth century, however, were confronted, as statesmen usually are, by a practical problem, to be solved in the light of contemporary knowledge, practices, and beliefs. As we have already noted, neither Massachusetts, Barbadoes, Bermuda, nor any other of the colonies engaged in defying and obstructing the attempts of England to unify and govern the Empire, had any practicable suggestion to offer. They could not be allowed by England to become independent without running the risk of their being absorbed by her rivals, France or Spain. Nor did the colonies themselves wish to lose her protection. Much as they might talk of armed resistance, the wisest men in them knew that they could not subsist alone, and preferred the rule of England to that of any of the other empires. The letter from Pynchon, quoted in an earlier chapter, the words of Winthrop cited above, as well as other contemporary evidence, show that the colonists realized and counted upon the power of England to shield them, so that they should not, as Winthrop said, “lie open as a prey to all men.”
If England is to be condemned for interpreting the law, which was indubitably on her side, in too narrow a spirit, and of caring too much for her own interests in building up those of the Empire, on the other hand it is difficult to acquit the colonies of a selfishness almost as great, in their attempts to secure all the advantages of empire, without being hampered by its restrictions. They insisted, for example, upon protection as a right, at the very time that they were flouting the Navigation laws designed to foster that naval strength upon which alone such protection could be based.
Although the thought of England was constructive in reference to the Empire, and that of the colonies was destructive, nevertheless contemporary imperialism was destined to be influenced quite as much by colonial fact as by English theory. There was much in the imperial scheme that the colonist, from his isolated position and limited outlook, failed to see, just as there was much which, because of its conflict with his individual interest, he refused to accept. But the facts that failed to fit into the theory were far more obvious to him than to the Englishman at home. The slower movement of the historical process in the old world made it more difficult for the Englishman at the centre of empire to foresee its future; while, owing to the swifter course of evolution on the periphery of the system, and the simplifications of the frontier, the colonist was to a great extent already living in that future without thinking about it at all.
His interests, however, soon became wholly colonial and extremely provincial, and his political thought became entirely centred upon his local government, the development of which grew more and more absorbing in proportion as its political dependence was diminished. But the real problem of the day was not a domestic one for the several colonies, profound as were the results to ensue from the development of the local New England political institutions. The real problem was, how to bring these local institutions into working relations with the still necessary sovereign power at the centre of the system. The colonists might offer legal objections or armed resistance, in the way of criticism, but so long as they offered no help in devising a workable solution of the problem, the obligation to do so devolved upon England alone. The rapid material success of the colonists, their new surroundings, their isolation, their necessary self-reliance, and their new local pride, were all developing, not, indeed, new thought, but new feeling. Although the empire evolved from the Mercantile Theory was a necessary step in the evolution of the empire of to-day, the Englishman's thought and the colonists' feelings were bound to clash over it, for the differences went far deeper than mere economic interests. The problem of composing those differences, great as it may have seemed to the contemporary rulers in Europe, or to the protesting settler on every frontier, were in reality far greater, even, than either of them dreamed. Moreover, difficult as the question would have been in any case, it had been rendered far more so by the disorganization of authority at home in the constitutional struggle. With the return of settled conditions at the Restoration of the monarchy in England, it seemed as if a serious attempt were at last to be made to bring order out of the increasing chaos of the imperial situation. Unfortunately, the combined weakness and tyranny of the restored Stuarts served to postpone, until after that dynasty's second dethronement, the success of any efforts to evolve and apply a considered and consistent colonial policy.
[713]. Cf. W. MacDonald, “A neglected Point of View in American Colonial History,” American Historical Association Report, 1902, vol. I, pp. 171 ff.