The Sages and Heroes of the American Revolution

by L. Carroll Judson

Tea became forbidden fruit—several vessel loads were sacrificed to Neptune—an oblation for the sins of the British cabinet—a jollification for the fish of Boston harbour. Royal authority increased in cruelty—patriots increased in boldness. The message of the governor to the legislature of 1773 maintained the supremacy of parliament. This was denied by the members and a reply written by Mr. Adams in answer to a second message from the governor, more strongly in favor of the crown. The pen of this functionary was paralyzed—his arguments proved fallacious—his mouth sealed upon this exciting subject. The reply of Mr. Adams was an exposition of British wrongs and American rights, so clearly presented that no sophistry could impugn—no logic confront. So highly was it appreciated by Dr. Franklin, that he had it republished in England—a luminary to patriots—confusion to tyrants.

On taking his seat in the legislature Mr. Adams was placed on the list of committees. So vindictive was governor Hutchinson that he erased his name—an act that recoiled with such force as to rapidly close his public career in the colony. He was succeeded by Governor Gage, who was more fully charged with ministerial fire—more successful in accelerating the millennium of Liberty. He placed his cross upon the name of John Adams—removed the legislature to Salem—enforced the Boston Port Bill and seemed to tax his ingenuity to enrage the people. On convening, the members of the legislature requested the governor to fix a day for a general fast which he peremptorily refused. As well might he have undertaken to extinguish a flaming fire with pitch, as to refuse this boon to the descendants of the Puritans. The people en masse venerated religion and would not yield to the violation of ancient custom.

The legislature then proceeded to project a general congress. Governor Gage sent his secretary with an order to prorogue—the door was locked against him—patriotic resolutions were passed and five delegates appointed to meet a national convention, one of whom was John Adams.

At the appointed time he repaired to Philadelphia—took his seat in that assemblage of sages, whose wisdom has been sung by the most brilliant poets, applauded by the most eloquent orators—admired by the most sagacious statesmen of the civilized world. On reading the proceedings of the first congress in 1774, Chatham remarked, "I have studied and admired the free states of antiquity, the master spirits of the world—but, for solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity and wisdom of conclusion, no body of men can stand above this congress."

Some supposed the ardent zeal of Mr. Adams might induce rashness. Not so—he was calm as a summer morning but firm as the granite shores of his birth-place. He was discreet, prudent—the last man to violate or submit to the violation of constitutional law. He kept his helm hard-up—knew when to luff—when to take the larboard tack—when to spread and when to take in sail. He was one of the few who believed the mother country would remain incorrigible—that petitions would be vain—addresses futile—remonstrances unavailing.

At the close of that congress Mr. Adams had a close conversation with Patrick Henry in which he expressed a full conviction, that resolves, declarations of rights, enumeration of wrongs, petitions, remonstrances, addresses, associations and non-importation agreements—however they might be accepted in America and however necessary to cement the union of the colonies, would be waste water in England. Mr. Henry believed they might make an impression among the people of England, but that they would be lost upon the government. Mr. Adams had just received a hasty letter from Major Hawley of Northampton, which concluded with these prophetic words, "after all we must fight." Mr. Henry raised his hands and vehemently exclaimed, "I am of that man's mind." Richard Henry Lee held a contrary opinion—Washington was in doubt. The two former based their conclusions on the past and present from which they drew deductions for the future. They penetrated the arcanum of human nature, passed in review the multiform circumstances that inflated power-backed by superior physical force—deluded by obstinacy and avarice, is callous to the refined feelings of humanity—deaf to wisdom—blind to justice. Lee, equally determined to vindicate right and oppose wrong, could not believe the ministry would dethrone reason and court ruin.

Washington, deep in reflection, an impartial and strong investigator—his soul overflowing with the milk of human kindness, did not arrive rapidly at conclusions on so momentous a subject. In weighing the causes of difference between the two countries—reason, justice and hope, on the one side—power, corruption and avarice on the other—at that time held his mind in equilibrio. He clearly perceived the right and fondly but faintly hoped England would see it too and govern herself accordingly. He was as prompt to act as the others when action became necessary.

Mr. Adams returned among his friends and stood approved by his constituents and his country. His pen was again brought into service, in answering a series of ingenious essays written by Mr. Sewell in favor of the supremacy of Parliament. Over the name of "Nonvanglus," Mr. Adams stripped the gay ornaments and gaudy apparel from the brazen image Mr. Sewell had presented to the public gaze. A meagre skeleton of visible deformity was all that remained. Attorney General Sewell trembled us he received the deep cuts from the falchion quill of this devoted patriot. So profound was his reasoning—so learned were his expositions—so clear and conclusive were his demonstrations—that his antagonist exclaimed, as he retired in a rage from the conflict, "He strives to hide his inconsistencies under a huge pile of learning."

The pile proved too "huge" for royal power and supplied the people with an abundance of light.

The supremacy of parliament was an unfortunate issue for ministers. It placed the patriots in a position to hurl their darts at them without refusing allegiance to the king. The British cabinet worked out its own destruction with regard to the American colonies—if not with fear and trembling it was with blindness and disgrace—impolicy and injustice—obstinacy and infatuation.