In 1760 Francis Bernard was made governor of Massachusetts, and thus officially put at the head of the Judiciary, a man wholly devoted to the Crown, expecting to be made a baronet! He did not wish an annual election of councillors, but wanted the sovereign power to enforce its decrees by violent measures. Thus Thomas Hutchinson was made Chief Justice in 1760, and afterwards Lieutenant-Governor,—continually hostile to the constitution of his native land. Thus Andrew Oliver—"Governor Oliver," "hungry for office and power," was appointed Secretary, Commissioner of Stamps and Lieutenant-Governor; and Peter Oliver—"Judge Oliver"—though not bred a lawyer, was made Chief Justice, the man who refused to receive his salary from the treasury of Massachusetts, preferring the money of the crown which owned him. In the revolutionary times of the five Judges of Massachusetts four were Tories!
Accordingly, when the Stamp Act was passed—22d March, 1765—there were Judicial officers in the Colonies ready to declare it "constitutional;" executive magistrates ready to carry out any measures intrusted to them. "I will cram the stamps down their throat with the end of my sword," said an officer at New York. Governor Bernard wanted soldiers sent to Boston to enforce submission; so did Hutchinson and "Governor Oliver." The Governor of New York thought, "if Judges be sent from England, with an able attorney-general and solicitor-general to make examples of some very few, the Colony will remain quiet."[104]
In 1768 John Hancock was arrested at Boston—for a "misdemeanor;" I suppose, "obstructing an officer," or some such offence.[105] The government long sought to procure indictments against James Otis—who was so busy in fencing out despotism—Samuel Adams, and several other leading friends of the colony. But I suppose the judge did not succeed in getting his brother-in-law put on the grand-jury, and so the scheme fell through. No indictment for that "misdemeanor" then. Boston had the right men to do any thing for the crown, but they did not contrive to get upon the grand-jury.
The King, it was George III., in his parliament, spoke of the Patriots of Boston, as "those turbulent and seditious persons." In the House of Commons, Stanley called Boston an "insolent town;" its inhabitants "must be treated as aliens;" its "charter and laws must be so changed as to give the King the appointment of the Council, and to the sheriffs the sole power of returning jurors;" then the Stamp Act could be carried out, and a revenue raised without the consent of the people. The plan was admirably laid; an excellent counsel! Suppose, as a pure conjecture, an hypothesis of illustration—that there were in Boston a fugitive slave bill court, eager to kidnap men and so gain further advancement from the slave power, which alone distributes the federal offices; suppose the court should appoint its creatures, relatives, nay, its uterine brother—its brother in birth—as fugitive slave bill commissioners to hunt men; and then should get its matrimonial brother—its brother-in-law—on the grand-jury to indict all who resisted the fugitive slave bill! You see, gentlemen, what an admirable opportunity there would be to accomplish most manifold and atrocious wickedness. This supposed case exactly describes what was contemplated by the British authorities in the last century! Only, Gentlemen, it was so unlucky as not to succeed; nay, Gentlemen, as to fail—then! Such accidents will happen in the best of histories!
It was moved in Parliament to address the king "to bring to condign punishment" such men as Otis and Adams and Hancock. Chief Justice Hutchinson declared Samuel Adams "the greatest incendiary in the king's dominions." Hutchinson was right for once. Samuel Adams lit a fire which will burn on Boston Common on the Fourth day of next July, Gentlemen, and on many other commons besides Boston. Aye, in the heart of many million men—and keep on burning long after Hutchinson ceases to be remembered with hate, and Adams with love. "The greatest incendiary!" so he was. Hutchinson also thought there must be "an Abridgment of what are called English Liberties," doubtless the liberty of speaking in Faneuil Hall, and other meeting-houses was one "of what are called English Liberties" that needed speedy abridgment. He wished the law of treason to be extended so that it might catch all the patriots of Boston by the neck. He thought it treasonable to deny the authority of Parliament.[106] Men suspected of "misdemeanors" were to be sent to England for trial! What a "trial" it would have been—Hancock and Adams in Westminster Hall with a jury packed by the government; Thurlow acting as Attorney-General, and another Thurlow growling on the bench and expecting further office as pay for fresh injustice! Truly there would have been an "abridgment of English Liberties." Gentlemen of the Jury, Mr. Phillips and Mr. Higginson in this case are charged with "obstructing an officer." Suppose they were sent to South Carolina to be tried by a jury of Slaveholders, or still worse, without change of place, to be tried by a court deadly hostile to freedom,—wresting law and perverting justice and "enlarging testimony," personally inimical to these gentlemen; suppose that the Slave-hunter whose "process" was alleged to be resisted, was kinsman to the court, and the judge had a near relation put on the jury—what opportunity would there be for justice; what expectation of it? Gentlemen of the Jury, that is the state of things which the despots of England wanted to bring about by sending Hancock and Adams over seas for trial! Bernard, Oliver, and Hutchinson were busy in getting evidence against the Patriots of New England, especially against Adams. Affidavits were sent out to England to prove that he was a fit subject to be transported for "trial" there. And an old statute was found from the enlightened reign of Henry VIII. authorizing that mode of trial in case of such "misdemeanor." Commissary Chew wished that two thirds of the lawyers and printers were shipped off to Africa "for at least seven years." Edes and Gill, patriotic printers in Boston, and "all the authors of numberless treasonable and seditious writings," were to go with them.[107] They were all guilty, very guilty! Gentlemen of the Jury, they committed "misdemeanors," they "obstructed officers," they resisted the process of despotism! But alas—
"The Dog it was that died."
Edes and Gill never saw Africa; the patriotic lawyers and printers made no reluctant voyage to England.
"The Dog it was that died."
Bernard, Hutchinson, Oliver, and their coadjutors went over the seas for punishment after being tried at home by a Law older than the statute of Henry VIII.; a law not yet repealed, Gentlemen, the Higher Law which God wrote ineffaceably in the hearts of mankind; and indignant America pronounced sentence—Tories, Traitors! Commissary Chew learned a lesson at Saratoga in 1777. And the Franklins, the Mayhews, the Hancocks, the Adamses, they also were tried at home, and not found wanting; and the verdict! Gentlemen of the Jury, you know what verdict America has pronounced on these men and their kinsfolk! There is only one spot in the United States where the Hutchinsons, the Olivers, the Bernards are honored,—that is where the Adamses, the Hancocks, the Mayhews, and the Franklins, with the principles of justice they gave their lives to, are held in contempt! Where is the one spot, that speck of foreign dirt in the clean American garden? It is where the Democratic Herod and the Whig Pilate are made friends that they may crucify the Son of Man, the Desire of all nations, the Spirit of Humanity—it is the court of the Fugitive Slave Bill judges, the Gabbatha of the Kidnappers. Look there!
In 1765 it was too late to conquer America. What Andros and Randolph could accomplish in 1686 with their sixty soldiers, could not be done in 1768 with all the red coats Britain could send out: nor in 1778 with all the Hessians she could purchase. The 19th of April, 1689, foretold another 19th of April—as that many to-morrows after to-day! In the House of Lords Camden and Pitt thought Parliament not omnipotent.[108] Samuel Adams declared "Acts of Parliament against natural equity are void;" prayed that "Boston might become a Christian Sparta," and looked to the Law of an Omnipotence somewhat higher than a king or a court. He not only had Justice, but also the People on his side. What came of that last attempt of the last king of New England to establish a despotism here? The same, Gentlemen, which will ultimately come of all such attempts.