To appreciate the force of this blow we must pause for a moment and consider what it involved. The right to the soil of North America had been hitherto regarded in England, on the strength of the discoveries of the Cabots, as an appurtenance to the crown of Henry VII.,—as something which descended from father to son like the palace at Hampton Court or the castle at Windsor, but which the sovereign might alienate by his voluntary act just as he might sell or give away a piece of his royal domain in England. Over this vast territory it was doubtful how far Parliament was entitled to exercise authority, and the rights of Englishmen settled there had theoretically no security save in the provisions of the various charters by which the crown had delegated its authority to individual proprietors or to private companies. It was thus on the charter granted by Charles I. to the Company of Massachusetts Bay that not only the cherished political and ecclesiastical institutions of the colony, but even the titles of individuals to their lands and houses, were supposed to be founded. By the abrogation of the charter, all rights and immunities that had been based upon it were at once swept away, and every rood of the soil of Massachusetts became the personal property of the Stuart king, who might, if he should possess the will and the power, turn out all the present occupants or otherwise deal with them as trespassers. Such at least was the theory of Charles II., and to show that he meant to wreak his vengeance with no gentle hand, he appointed as his viceroy the brutal Percy Kirke,—a man who would have no scruples about hanging a few citizens without trial, should occasion require it. [Sidenote: Effect of annulling the charter]
But in February, 1685, just as Charles seemed to be getting everything arranged to his mind, a stroke of apoplexy carried him off the scene, and his brother ascended the throne. Monmouth's rebellion, and the horrible cruelties that followed, kept Colonel Kirke busy in England through the summer, and left the new king scant leisure to think about America. Late in the autumn, having made up his mind that he could not spare such an exemplary knave as Kirke, James II. sent over Sir Edmund Andros. In the mean time the government of Massachusetts had been administered by Dudley, who showed himself willing to profit by the misfortunes of his country. Andros had long been one of James's favourites. He was the dull and dogged English officer such as one often meets, honest enough and faithful to his master, neither cruel nor rapacious, but coarse in fibre and wanting in tact. Some years before, when governor of New York, he had a territorial dispute with Connecticut, and now cherished a grudge against the people of New England, so that, from James's point of view, he was well fitted to be their governor. James wished to abolish all the local governments in America, and unite them, as far as possible, under a single administration. With Plymouth there could be no trouble; she had never had a charter, but had existed on sufferance from the outset. In 1687 the charters of Rhode Island and Connecticut were rescinded, but the decrees were not executed in due form. In October of that year Andros went to Hartford, to seize the Connecticut charter but it was not surrendered. While Sir Edmund was bandying threats with stout Robert Treat, the queller of Indians and now governor of Connecticut, in the course of their evening conference the candles were suddenly blown out, and when after some scraping of tinder they were lighted again the document was nowhere to be found, for Captain Wadsworth had carried it away and hidden it in the hollow trunk of a mighty oak tree. Nevertheless for the moment the colony was obliged to submit to the tyrant. Next day the secretary John Allyn wrote "Finis" on the colonial records and shut up the book. Within another twelvemonth New York and New Jersey were added to the viceroyalty of Andros; so that all the northern colonies from the forests of Maine to the Delaware river were thus brought under the arbitrary rule of one man, who was responsible to no one but the king for whatever he might take it into his head to do. [Sidenote: Sir Edmund Andros] [Sidenote: The Charter Oak]
The vexatious character of the new government was most strongly felt at Boston where Andros had his headquarters. Measures were at once taken for the erection of an Episcopal church, and meantime the royal order was that one of the principal meeting-houses should be seized for the use of the Church of England. This was an ominous beginning. In the eyes of the people it was much more than a mere question of disturbing Puritan prejudices. They had before them the experience of Scotland during the past ten years, the savage times of "Old Mortality," the times which had seen the tyrannical prelate, on the lonely moor, begging in vain for his life, the times of Drumclog and Bothwell Brigg, of Claverhouse and his flinty-hearted troopers, of helpless women tied to stakes on the Solway shore and drowned by inches in the rising tide. What had happened in one part of the world might happen in another, for the Stuart policy was the same. It aimed not at securing toleration but at asserting unchecked supremacy. Its demand for an inch was the prelude to its seizing an ell, and so our forefathers understood it. Sir Edmund's formal demand for the Old South Meeting-House was flatly refused, but on Good Friday, 1687, the sexton was frightened into opening it, and thenceforward Episcopal services were held there alternately with the regular services until the overthrow of Andros. The pastor, Samuel Willard, was son of the gallant veteran who had rescued the beleaguered people of Brookfield in King Philip's war. Amusing passages occurred between him and Sir Edmund, who relished the pleasantry of keeping minister and congregation waiting an hour or two in the street on Sundays before yielding to them the use of their meeting-house. More kindly memories of the unpopular governor are associated with the building of the first King's Chapel on the spot where its venerable successor now stands. The church was not finished until after Sir Edmund had taken his departure, but Lady Andros, who died in February, 1688, lies in the burying-ground hard by. Her gentle manners had won all hearts. For the moment, we are told, one touch of nature made enemies kin, and as Sir Edmund walked to the townhouse "many a head was bared to the bereaved husband that before had remained stubbornly covered to the exalted governor." [38] [Sidenote: Episcopal services in Boston] [Sidenote: Founding of the King's Chapel, 1689]
The despotic rule of Andros was felt in more serious ways than in the seizing upon a meetinghouse. Arbitrary taxes were imposed, encroachments were made upon common lands as in older manorial times, and the writ of habeas corpus was suspended. Dudley was appointed censor of the press, and nothing was allowed to be printed without his permission. All the public records of the late New England governments were ordered to be brought to Boston, whither it thus became necessary to make a tedious journey in order to consult them. All deeds and wills were required to be registered in Boston, and excessive fees were charged for the registry. It was proclaimed that all private titles to land were to be ransacked, and that whoever wished to have his title confirmed must pay a heavy quit-rent, which under the circumstances amounted to blackmail. The General Court was abolished. The power of taxation was taken from the town-meetings and lodged with the governor. Against this crowning iniquity the town of Ipswich, led by its sturdy pastor, John Wise, made protest. In response Mr. Wise was thrown into prison, fined £50, and suspended from the ministry. A notable and powerful character was this John Wise. One of the broadest thinkers and most lucid writers of his time, he seems like a forerunner of the liberal Unitarian divines of the nineteenth century. His "Vindication of the Government of the New England Churches," published in 1717, was a masterly exposition of the principles of civil government, and became "a text book of liberty for our Revolutionary fathers, containing some of the notable expressions that are used in the Declaration of Independence." [Sidenote: Tyranny] [Sidenote: John Wise of Ipswich]
It was on the trial of Mr. Wise in October, 1687, that Dudley openly declared that the people of New England had now no further privileges left them than not to be sold for slaves. Such a state of things in the valley of the Euphrates would not have attracted comment; the peasantry of central Europe would have endured it until better instructed; but in an English community it could not last long. If James II. had remained upon the throne, New England would surely have soon risen in rebellion against Andros. But the mother country had by this time come to repent the fresh lease of life which she had granted to the Stuart dynasty after Cromwell's death. Tired of the disgraceful subservience of her Court to the schemes of Louis XIV., tired of fictitious plots and judicial murders, tired of bloody assizes and declarations of indulgence and all the strange devices of Stuart tyranny, England endured the arrogance of James but three years, and then drove him across the Channel, to get such consolation as he might from his French paymaster and patron. On the 4th of April, 1689, the youthful John Winslow brought to Boston the news of the landing of the Prince of Orange in England. For the space of two weeks there was quiet and earnest deliberation among the citizens, as the success of the Prince's enterprise was not yet regarded as assured. But all at once, on the morning of the 18th, the drums beat to arms, the signal-fire was lighted on Beacon Hill, a meeting was held at the Town-House, militia began to pour in from the country, and Andros, summoned to surrender, was fain to beseech Mr. Willard and the other ministers to intercede for him. But the ministers refused. Next day the Castle was surrendered, the Rose frigate riding in the harbour was seized and dismantled, and Andros was arrested as he was trying to effect his escape disguised in woman's clothes. Dudley and the other agents of tyranny were also imprisoned, and thus the revolution was accomplished. It marks the importance which the New England colonies were beginning to attain, that, before the Prince of Orange had fully secured the throne, he issued a letter instructing the people of Boston to preserve decorum and acquiesce yet a little longer in the government of Andros, until more satisfactory arrangements could be made. But Increase Mather, who was then in London on a mission in behalf of New England, judiciously prevented this letter of instructions from being sent. The zeal of the people outstripped the cautious policy of the new sovereign, and provisional governments, in accordance with the old charters, were at once set up in the colonies lately ruled by Andros. Bradstreet now in his eighty-seventh year was reinstated as governor of Massachusetts. Five weeks after this revolution in Boston the order to proclaim King William and Queen Mary was received, amid such rejoicings as had never before been seen in that quiet town, for it was believed that self-government would now be guaranteed to New England. [Sidenote: Fall of James II.] [Sidenote: Insurrection in Boston, and overthrow of Andros, April 18, 1689]
This hope was at least so far realized that from the most formidable dangers which had threatened it, New England was henceforth secured. The struggle with the Stuarts was ended, and by this second revolution within half a century the crown had received a check from which it never recovered. There were troubles yet in store for England, but no more such outrages as the judicial murders of Russell and Sidney. New England had still a stern ordeal to go through, but never again was she to be so trodden down and insulted as in the days of Andros. The efforts of George III. to rule Englishmen despotically were weak as compared with those of the Stuarts. In his time England had waxed strong enough to curb the tyrant, America had waxed strong enough to defy and disown him. After 1689 the Puritan no longer felt that his religion was in danger, and there was a reasonable prospect that charters solemnly granted him would be held sacred. William III. was a sovereign of modern type, from whom freedom of thought and worship had nothing to fear. In his theology he agreed, as a Dutch Calvinist, more nearly with the Puritans than with the Church of England. At the same time he had no great liking for so much independence of thought and action as New England had exhibited. In the negotiations which now definitely settled the affairs of this part of the world, the intractable behaviour of Massachusetts was borne in mind and contrasted with the somewhat less irritating attitude of the smaller colonies. It happened that the decree which annulled the charters of Rhode Island and Connecticut had not yet been formally enrolled. It was accordingly treated as void, and the old charters were allowed to remain in force. They were so liberal that no change in them was needed at the time of the Revolution, so that Connecticut was governed under its old charter until 1818, and Rhode Island until 1842. [Sidenote: Effects of the Revolution of 1689]
There was at this time a disposition on the part of the British government to unite all the northern colonies under a single administration. The French in Canada were fast becoming rivals to be feared; and the wonderful explorations of La Salle, bringing the St. Lawrence into political connection with the Mississippi, had at length foreshadowed a New France in the rear of all the English colonies, aiming at the control of the centre of the continent and eager to confine the English to the sea-board. Already the relations of position which led to the great Seven Years' War were beginning to shape themselves; and the conflict between France and England actually broke out in 1689, as soon as Louis XIV.'s hired servant, James II., was superseded by William III. as king of England and head of a Protestant league. [Sidenote: Need for union among all the northern colonies]
In view of this new state of affairs, it was thought desirable to unite the northern English colonies under one head, so far as possible, in order to secure unity of military action. But natural prejudices had to be considered. The policy of James II. had aroused such bitter feeling in America that William must needs move with caution. Accordingly he did not seek to unite New York with New England, and he did not think it worth while to carry out the attack which James had only begun upon Connecticut and Rhode Island. As for New Hampshire, he seems to have been restrained by what in the language of modern politics would be called "pressure," brought to bear by certain local interests. [39] But in the case of the little colony founded by the Pilgrims of the Mayflower there was no obstacle. She was now annexed to Massachusetts, which also received not only Maine but even Acadia, just won from the French; so that, save for the short break at Portsmouth, the coast of Massachusetts now reached all the way from Martha's Vineyard to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. [Sidenote: Plymouth, Maine, and Acadia, annexed to Massachusetts]
But along with this great territorial extension there went some curtailment of the political privileges of the colony. By the new charter of 1692 the right of the people to be governed by a legislature of their own choosing was expressly confirmed. The exclusive right of this legislature to impose taxes was also confirmed. But henceforth no qualification of church-membership, but only a property qualification, was to be required of voters; the governor was to be appointed by the crown instead of being elected by the people; and all laws passed by the legislature were to be sent to England for royal approval. These features of the new charter,—the extension, or if I may so call it, the secularization of the franchise, the appointment of the governor by the crown, and the power of veto which the crown expressly reserved,—were grave restrictions upon the independence which Massachusetts had hitherto enjoyed. Henceforth her position was to be like that of the other colonies with royal governors. But her history did not thereby lose its interest or significance, though it became, like the history of most of the colonies, a dismal record of irrepressible bickerings between the governor appointed by the crown and the legislature elected by the people. In the period that began in 1692 and ended in 1776, the movements of Massachusetts, while restricted and hampered, were at the same time forced into a wider orbit. She was brought into political sympathy with Virginia. While two generations of men were passing across the scene, the political problems of Massachusetts were assimilated to those of Virginia. In spite of all the other differences, great as they were, there was a likeness in the struggles between the popular legislature and the royal governor which subordinated them all. It was this similarity of experience, during the eighteenth century, that brought these two foremost colonies into cordial alliance during the struggle against George III., and thus made it possible to cement all the colonies together in the mighty nation whose very name is fraught with so high and earnest a lesson to mankind,—the UNITED STATES! [Sidenote: Massachusetts becomes a royal province]
For such a far-reaching result, the temporary humiliation of Massachusetts was a small price to pay. But it was not until long after the accession of William III. that things could be seen in these grand outlines. With his coronation began the struggle of seventy years between France and England, far grander than the struggle between Rome and Carthage, two thousand years earlier, for primacy in the world, for the prerogative of determining the future career of mankind. That warfare, so fraught with meaning, was waged as much upon American as upon European ground; and while it continued, it was plainly for the interest of the British government to pursue a conciliatory policy toward its American colonies, for without their wholehearted assistance it could have no hope of success. As soon as the struggle was ended, and the French power in the colonial world finally overthrown, the perpetual quarrels between the popular legislatures and the royal governors led immediately to the Stamp Act and the other measures of the British government that brought about the American revolution. People sometimes argue about that revolution as if it had no past behind it and was simply the result of a discussion over abstract principles. [Sidenote: Seeds of the American Revolution already sown]