Main currents in American thought An interpretation of American literature from the beginnings to 1920
American governments, as effectually as an hereditary nobility does
to that of Great Britain.[206]
It is not known to what extent Hutchinson indorsed so ambitious and
comprehensive a plan. For years he had been Bernard’s understudy, and
supported him in all his policies; but being cautious by nature and
attached to local custom, he probably would have rejected the plan
of continental consolidation unless his personal ambition had been
enlisted. Hosmer’s attempt to clear his skirts[207] is not convincing.
Recalling that Hutchinson yielded invariably to royal or ministerial
suggestions, no matter how contrary to local custom, there is no reason
to believe that he would have objected to any coercive program, which
provided adequately for the colonial Tories.
In another matter that touched the political life of Massachusetts
to the quick, Hutchinson was deeply engaged. The source of the power
of the popular party lay in the democratic town meeting. In earlier
days the Tories had made no objection to it, for it was amenable to
control by the “better sort of people.” But under the skillful politics
of Samuel Adams and his fellows, it had become the chief instrument
of opposition, and Hutchinson was determined to cut its claws. On so
delicate a matter, however, it was only to the ministry that he could
speak frankly; he must not appear to be laying a plot against an
institution so long established as a part of the political machinery
of the commonwealth. Under date of March 26, 1770, he wrote to the
secretary of Lord Hillsboro:
There is a Town Meeting, no sort of regard being had to any
qualification of voters, but all the inferior people meet together;
and at a late meeting the inhabitants of other towns who happened
to be in town, mixed with them.... It is in other words being under
the government of the mob. This has given the lower part of the
people such a sense of their importance that a gentleman does not
meet with what used to be common civility, and we are sinking into
perfect barbarism.... If this town could be separated from the rest
of the Province, the infection has not taken such strong hold of
the parts remote from it. The spirit of anarchy which prevails in
Boston is more than I am able to cope with.[208]
Writing to Hillsboro on April 19, 1771, he complained:
In these votes and in most of the public proceedings of the town of
Boston, persons of the best character and estate have little or no
concern. They decline attending Town Meetings where they are sure
to be outvoted by men of the lowest order.[209]
A month later, writing to his old crony, ex-Governor Bernard, he
suggested a remedy which in one form or another he was constantly
holding before the ministry, as an inducement to act:
The town of Boston is the source from whence all the other parts
of the Province derive more or less troubled water. When you
consider what is called its constitution, your good sense will
determine immediately that it never can be otherwise for a long
time together, whilst the majority which conducts all affairs, if
met together upon another occasion, would be properly called a mob,
and are persons of such rank and circumstance as in all communities
constitute a mob, there being no sort of regulation of voters
in practice; and as these will always be most in number, men of
weight and value, although they wish to suppress them, cannot be
induced to attempt to do it for fear not only of being outvoted,
but affronted and insulted. Call such an assembly what you will,
it is really no sort of government, not even a democracy, at best
a corruption of it. There is no hope of a cure by any legislative
but among ourselves [_i.e._, ministerial supporters] to compel the
town to be a corporation.[210] The people will not seek it, because
every one is sensible his importance will be lessened. If ever a
remedy is found, it must be by compelling them to swallow it, and
that by an exterior power,--the Parliament.[211]
In such advice--the destruction of the democratic machinery by an
“exterior power” in order that control of government should lie
beyond the reach of the popular will--we may discover ample grounds
for democratic dissatisfaction with the governor. Hutchinson believed
that when matters of state were settled by gentlemen over their wine,
good government resulted; but when discussed by common people over
their cider, the door was thrown wide open to anarchy. His particular
_bête noire_ was the mob, by which name he designated any gathering
that had not received his gracious permission to assemble. It was his
shortsighted willingness to arm himself with external authority against
his fellow countrymen, that filled the years of his administration
with so much bitterness. The more he lost ground, the more anxiously
he pleaded for help from the ministry. When certain of his private
letters came to the hands of Franklin and were sent home, Hutchinson
was put in a rage. He had long been fearful of such a diplomatic
leak and urged secrecy, for if his private correspondence should
become public, he explained, “I have no security against the rage
of the people.”[212] Much ink was used by his friends in declaiming
against the infamy of making public a gentleman’s private letters,
and Hutchinson characterized it as an “affrontery” such as “was
never known before.” That such private correspondence was in effect
official correspondence, in that it aimed at shaping parliamentary
policy towards Massachusetts, was ignored by these outraged gentlemen.
Diplomats who plan privately rarely like to be read publicly,
especially when the public reads how it is being bought and sold.
Very likely the Assembly overstated the case in declaring that “there
has been, for many years past, measures contemplated, and a plan
formed, by a set of men, born and educated among us, to raise their own
fortunes, and advance themselves to posts of honor and profit, not only
to the destruction of the charter and constitution of this province,
but at the expense of the rights and liberties of the American
colonies.”[213] Hutchinson was too cautious and too conservative to
seek any revolutionary end; at the same time he was too yielding to
make a stand against any encroachment that had legal sanction. From
his narrow mind no help could be expected touching the great matter of
imperial federation. In seeking a way out of the difficulties in which
the British Empire was daily becoming entangled, the royal governor
could discover no wiser plan than the abridgment of fundamental
privileges which a hundred and fifty years of slow growth had made the
peculiar possession of the colonies. The unhappy conclusion towards
which the American Tories were drifting he set forth in words which
were to become the most notorious he ever penned.
I never think of the measures necessary for the peace and good
order of the colonies without pain. There must be an abridgment of
what are called English liberties. I relieve myself by considering
that in a remove from a state of nature to the most perfect state
of government, there must be a great restraint of natural liberty.
I doubt whether it is possible to project a system of government in
which a colony 3000 miles distant from the parent state shall enjoy
all the liberty of the parent state. I am certain I have never
yet seen the projection. I wish the good of the colony when I wish
to see some further restraint of liberty rather than the connexion
with the parent state should be broken; for I am sure such a breach
must prove the ruin of the colony.[214]
Later writers, forgetful of Hutchinson’s self-seeking record-and of
his Tory philosophy, have inclined to leniency in judging him for
his stand on this crucial point. But in spite of his wig and scarlet
broadcloth robes he was only an unintelligent politician, who served
the hand that fed him. No better commentary could be asked than is
found in the caustic remark of the keenest Englishman of his day on
the ministerial policy. In a letter of April, 1777, Horace Walpole
asked, “What politicians are those who have preferred the empty name
of _sovereignty_ to that of _alliance_, and forced subsidies to the
golden ocean of commerce?” Hutchinson was stubborn rather than wise.
He would make no compromise in the matter of sovereignty; there could
be no lawful will but the will of Parliament. “I know of no line that
can be drawn between the supreme authority of Parliament and the total
independence of the colonies,” he replied to the Assembly, when it was
struggling with the idea of federation.[215] When the Council and House
were outlining a plan of imperial union, and seeking to demonstrate
that the “subordinate authorities” of the colonies were sovereign
within their fields, and “that, in fact, two such powers do subsist
together, and are not incompatible”; the governor with patient finality
explained to them the true “nature of supreme power,”
... and urged, as an undeniable principle, that such a power is
essential in all governments, and that another power, with the
name of subordinate, and with a right to withstand or control the
supreme in particulars, is an absurdity--for it so far ceases
to be subordinate, and becomes itself supreme; that no sensible
writer upon government ever denied what he asserted; and whilst the
council continued to hold, that two supreme powers were compatible,
it would be to no purpose to reason upon the other parts of their
message to him, or to deny what they adduced from a principle so
contrary to reason.[216]
Hutchinson’s position as the King’s representative soon became so
difficult that a wiser man would have resigned. He was constrained
to be the executive of a policy of government by ministerial
instructions. Again and again he vetoed a measure, or dissolved the
legislature, or took action contrary to the spirit of the charter;
and the sole justification which he pleaded was a secret letter of
instructions, the terms of which he refused to make public, and the
object of which must be judged by his acts. “So long as he continued
commander-in-chief,” he replied to the House in one of their perennial
wranglings, “he should think himself bound to conform to every
signification of his majesty’s pleasure.” To the denunciations of the
popular party he remained outwardly indifferent, strong in the supposed
integrity of his official purpose. In time, he believed, the evil
spoken of him by ambitious men would be forgotten, and his course would
find vindication. The words of Bernard might well have been his:
He denies, that the opinion of the whole people of that Province
can now be taken and ascertained, labouring as it does at present,
under the baneful influence of a desperate faction, who by raising
groundless fears and jealousies, by deluding one part of the
people, and by intimidating the other part, has destroyed all real
freedom, not only of action, but even of sentiment and opinion.
But the Respondent doubts not but that his Administration has been
approved by the generally of the best and most respectable men of
the Province.[217]
In spite of Hutchinson’s endeavors to build up a prerogative party
the drift of public opinion went steadily against him until he was
convinced that he stood almost alone. “He was not sure of support from
any one person in authority,” he commented stoically, in telling of
the tea troubles. The Council, the Assembly, the very constables were
against him. Yet he went his way obstinately; he would fulfill to
the last word the instructions of his superiors. The ministry might
be unwise, but better the legal folly of Parliament than the madness