by Nathan Allen
Governor Bernard sat before the General Court that late September morning and opened with, “I have called you together at this unusual Time in pursuance of the unanimous Advice of a very full Council, that you may take into Consideration the present State of the Province, and determine what is to be done at this difficult and dangerous Conjuncture. I need not recount to you the violences which have been committed in this Town …” Then he staked out the safest position he could in response to the Stamp Act: “I shall not enter into any Disquisition of the Policy of the Act: It has never been a Part of my Business to form any Judgment of it ; and as I have not hitherto had any Opportunity to express my Sentiments of it, I shall not do it now.” Importantly, not only did Bernard fail to defend the Stamp Act, but he distanced himself from it, doubtless an admission the radicals’s and mob’s strength. Bernard vacillated between insisting and begging the House to fully reimburse those whose property was destroyed by the mobs. Despite aggressively remaining neutral on the subject of the Stamp Act, he added, “And I trust that the Supremacy of that Parliament over all the Members of their wide and diffused Empire never was and never will be denied within these Walls.”
Bernard then illuminated an obvious problem:
The Right of the Parliament of Great-Britain to make Laws for the American Colonies, however it has been controverted in America, remains indisputable at Westminster. If it is yet to be made a question, who shall determine it but the Parliament? If the Parliament declares that this Right is inherent in them, are they like to acquiesce in an open and forceable Opposition to the exercise of it? Will they not more probably maintain such Right, and support their own Authority? Is it in the Will or in the Power, or for the Interest of this Province to oppose such Authority? If such Opposition should be made, may it not bring on a Contest which may prove the most detrimental and ruinous Event which could happen to this people?
It’s almost as if Bernard were a covert radical as he made a fairly radical observation: the only body that could decrease Parliament’s power is Parliament, and why would Parliament ever decrease its own power? A governing body never voluntarily abdicates power; it can only be forcefully taken. Bernard’s argument might have held sway over Jemmy and the House radicals who often proclaimed their undying fealty to Great Britain – if only they had meant what they said. Bernard was shrewd enough to admit Otis was capable of a “counterwork” but still too naïve to believe it.
Bernard then referenced the problems that Wheelwright’s bankruptcy had caused, saying that some “argued from the inexpediency of it at this Time, and the inability of the Colonies to bear such an Imposition” – the Stamp Act could be acceptable if only the province could afford it. Bernard did not refute this claim, acknowledging that none of the radicals actually held this position. Finally, Bernard asserted that obedience to the Stamp Act was required for the province’s basic functioning, as the Courts and legal documents in general all required stamps.
When the Courts of Justice are shut up, no one will be able to sue for a Debt due to him or an injury done to him. Must not then all Credit and mutual Faith cease of Course and Fraud and Rapine take their Place? Will any ones Person or Property be safe when their sole Protector the Law is disabled to act?
In the end, Bernard resorted to maintaining that compliance with the Stamp Act was a necessary bulwark against a tsunami of anarchy. The radicals duly noted Bernard’s concerns about safety and would soon offer their own solution. And they would too soon have a response to Bernard’s observation that Parliament alone can make taxes “a question,” and Parliament alone can decrease its power. Bernard ended his late September morning speech with, “This Province seems to me to be upon the Brink of a Precipice,” an observation on which he and the radicals would agree, though they’d differed on whether leaping into the abyss was resignation to anarchy or resistance to tyranny.
The next day, Bernard sent formal notice to the house that “A Ship is arrived in this Harbour with stamped Papers on board for the King’s Use in this Province; and also with other stamped Papers for the like Use in the Province of New-Hampshire and Colony of Rhode-Island.” And Bernard begged the General Court for assistance in what to do with the shipload of stamps “As Mr. Oliver has declined the Office of Distributor of Stamped Papers. …” The House replied the same day that they did not have any “interest themselves in this matter.” The House did not even consider reimbursing the oligarchs whose houses, businesses, and properties were destroyed. Rather, they occupied their day with mundane matters such as approving the sale of estates in probate to settle the deceased’s debts. The Boston town meeting also had dealt with Oxenbridge Thacher’s July death by electing someone no less radical. Voting was tight, but on the second ballot, Samuel Adams defeated John Ruddock and John Rowe and became the newest member of the Boston bench. While Sam Adams was no more radical than Thacher – doubtless anyone could be more radical than Thacher – Adams was a better writer, had a stronger philosophy of rights, and perhaps most importantly, had strong connections to the mobs that ruled Boston. Thacher was radical but not particularly effective; Adams was both. Bernard, realizing that the House was determined to be unhelpful and that the Stamp Act’s flames of rebellion begun to burn amongst the moderates, suspended the session of the General Court after just two days.
Preparations for the “general Congress” in New York commenced, the three Massachusetts delegates withdrew their expense money of £150 each, and the meeting that Bernard doubted would occur evolved into an impressive congregation of the greatest and most radical colonial minds. The conservative Boston Evening-Post mustered interest in the New York gathering, printing on September 9, 1765, “We hear that the Meeting of the Commissioners from the several provinces will be general to the great pleasure of every Inhabitant of this [province], where it was first proposed.” The August 26 Gazette printed a story about the choice of Christopher Gadsen, Thomas Lynch, and John Rutledge as the commissioners from South Carolina. The New-York Mercury reported from Philadelphia on September 30 that “The Gentlemen appointed by [the Pennsylvania] Assembly [John Dickinson, John Morton, and George Bryan] to assist at the General Congress at New York, we hear set out this Day [September 19] for that Place.” The same New-York Mercury issue printed another story proclaiming that “those from Boston and Connecticut are daily expected” and that the “Commissioners from Pennsylvania and Rhode-Island” had arrived. The idea of a colonial convention had electrified the public imagination.
Jemmy moderated a tumultuous Boston town meeting on Wednesday, September 18, 1765, and the meeting again issued “Instructions.” Otis, as Boston’s representative to the New York “Meeting,” received specific direction “to contribute the Utmost of his Abelity, in having the Rights of the Colonies stated in the clearest vein.” In its instructions, the town warned against “arbitrary unconstitutional Innovations” that the Stamp Act relied upon and asserted that “It is certain we were in no sense represented in the Parliament of Great Britain.” These were strong words; the town meeting had clearly moved beyond road paving and hog corralling. It addition to “unconstitutional Innovations,” the town was deeply concerned about the expansion and employment of “Courts of Admiralty without a Jury.” Given Jemmy’s history of winning customs cases, the town knew that juryless courts would be widely utilized to prosecute resistance. The town blamed England for the recent war that “brought upon themselves a Debt almost insupportable” and was of “very little if any advantage” to the colonists. The war and its consequences resulted from Whitehall’s not Boston’s policies. And finally, perhaps the most significant issue the rebels had with the tax, was that “if carried into Execution, will become a further Grieveance to us as it will afford a Precedent for the Parliament to Tax us in all future Time, and in all such Ways and Measures, as they shall Judge meet without our Consent,” which clearly abrogates “the Inherent unalienable Rights of the People.” In a final act of united rebellion, the town meeting then “Voted una
nimously” to approve the instructions. Delegate Ruggles had also received private instructions from Governor Bernard, who wrote a letter to Ruggles on September 2, 1765 confirming that he was to act as a “friend of government” and insisting that he permit nothing short of submission to the Stamp Act in order to rescue Massachusetts from “Ruin.” So as Otis was told to be alert to rights, Ruggles was told to be alert to ruin.
The Massachusetts delegation and John Cotton, the House of Representatives’s clerk whom the delegates had coerced into acting as Secretary of the Congress, departed for New York on the Old Post Road on October first. They arrived in New York six days later and secured rooms at the Kings Arms, an inn popular with many of the delegates. Despite the absence of Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia, the collection of 27 colonial representatives was novel. John Watts reported to General Robert Monckton on October 12, 1765 that the “Committees are met” and “to do ‘em justice, I believe they have deputed some of their best people, and I imagine the fruits of their deliberations will be sensible and moderate enough.” New York Lieutenant Governor Cadwallader Colden ignored the Congress, refusing to recognize the delegates or their “Meeting.” The commander of British forces in America, General Thomas Gage, was circumspect, writing to Secretary of State Conway that the delegates were “of different Characters & Opinions, but it was to be feared that the Spirit of Democracy was strong amongst them”; however, curiosity got the best of Gage, and he threw a dinner party. David Meade, a young Virginian who was in New York with John Randolph as part of a grand tour of the colonies, was one of the “very numerous” attendees at Gage’s soiree and penned a sketch of the Massachusetts delegation.
Of the company… were three deputies from Massachusetts, viz, General Ruggles, Col. Partridge, and the distinguished champion of his country’s rights at that time, Mr. Otis. … Mr Otis, of the year ‘65, appeared to be a modest sensible man, who was no stranger to good company, of middle stature, inclining to be fat, little (if any) over middle age. Brigadier Ruggles was, to appearances, not less than seventy years of age, very tall, very taciturn, and of aspect neither engaging nor patrician. Col. Partridge was a pert little man, with the coat of a gentleman, he a complete clown in his manners, manifested the most entire ignorance of the usages which prevail in polished societies.
Gossip spread from the dinner party and the “Meeting,” and Governor Bernard wrote to Pownall on November 5, 1765 that he’d received information claiming Jemmy declared “the Province of Massachusetts would never be in order, until the Council was appointed from Home” while at Gage’s party. It’s evident why Gage feared “Spirit of Democracy was strong amongst them.” According to Otis, it was only local, actual representation that would calm the mobs – the very mobs that the Boston oligarchy assumed Otis controlled.
The members of the “general congress” first formally met on October 7 in City Hall. The Massachusetts lawyers could compare their homegrown scholarship, legal and speaking skills with those trained in English Inns of Court such as Pennsylvania’s John Dickinson and South Carolina’s John Rutledge, and the other delegates could meet the rather famous Boston lawyer, writer and agitator about whom they’d heard so much. Since the congress was a Massachusetts creation, it was agreed that the chairman should be from that province. “The clown” Colonel Partridge was not even considered, and according to New York delegate John Watts, “Otis aimed at it and would have succeeded, but they thought as he had figured much in the popular way, it might give their meeting an ill grace.” The congress members knew they needed an official who would lend credibility and sanction to the meeting, as they were very aware that many governors and “friends of government” viewed the congress with suspicion and disdain. Otis, though an obvious choice, was in the minds of the oligarchy too closely allied with the rebels and the mobs, and his reputation outside of Massachusetts was still that of a fiery radical. There was really only one logical choice: Ruggles, the Court Party stalwart, who would give the imprimatur of legitimacy to the entire proceeding.
In his first action, Ruggles appointed a committee to produce a declaration of congress’s resolves and selected the meeting’s youngest delegate John Rutledge as chairman. Ruggles may have thought that the young Southerner would prove timid and thus moderate. But Rutledge was more than capable, and John Dickinson and James Otis served with him on the committee. The two weeks spent discussing the resolves embodied a pivotal historical moment wherein the colonies needed to choose between maintaining their individual identities or surrendering a bit of that independence for a unified voice and – perhaps they perceived this – a greater independence. Delegate Gadsen wanted a pronouncement on the rights of Englishmen, whereas Livingston argued for concession on the issue of Parliament’s sovereign legislative power, and Johnson believed the charters offered reasonable protection. Caesar Rodney observed that finding common ground – for the first time amongst the colonies – proved difficult; writing home on October 20, 1765, Rodney said the debates were “one of the most Difficult Tasks I ever yet see Undertaken. … However After arguing, and Debating two weeks on Liberty, privilege, Perogative &c &c in an Assembly of the greatest Ability I ever yet saw, We happily finished them.” Despite Ruggles’s likely intentions, the triumvirate of Rutledge, Dickinson and Otis proved to be a committee of some of the most learned and capable ever assembled in the colonies. Rutledge recalled that Otis was one of the leaders, and Delegate McKean of Delaware claimed that Otis was “the boldest and best speaker.” The precise role of any participant is unknown, but Jemmy clearly made an impression.
The fourteen restrained yet firm resolves were adopted on October 19, recognizing reasonable subordination to Parliament but declaring that taxation without actual representation violated the colonists’s rights while declining Otis’s suggestion to request direct American representation in the House of Commons. Again, Otis was doing his conspicuous best to appear reasonable. The resolves repeated the widespread objection to the expanding jurisdiction of the juryless vice-admiralty courts. With the resolves established, appointments were made for Livingston, Johnson and Murdock to draft an address to the king; Rutledge, Tilghman, and Philip Livingston to draft a memorial and petition to the House of Lords; and Thomas Lynch, McKean, and James Otis to draft a petition to the House of Commons. On Monday, October 21, the committees submitted their drafts, which were debated and returned to the committees for editing. The drafts were finally approved, and the final issue loomed. The majority of delegates officially presented credentials that echoed Otis’s letter of invitation, but there were variations. A few delegations, such as Connecticut’s, could not formally consent to any decisions prior to receiving approval from their colonies’s assemblies, and the delegations from New Jersey and Delaware were entirely unofficial. Due to this menagerie of protocols, the congress concluded not to disclose the documents until all represented colonial assemblies reviewed them. A motion was then made to sign the documents, thereby formalizing their status as official products of the congress. Ruggles promptly moved that the documents first be approved by the colonial assemblies prior to anyone placing a signature on them, and with that suggestion, Ruggles refused to sign anything. The delegates agreed to keep secret Ruggles’s refusal to sign so that “he would not have travel’d through N. England in safety had the fact been known.” Ruggles then departed New York before the others in order to return to Boston before the countryside discovered that he had refused to sign the resolves, but all the delegations left Boston just a few days later, on October 24.
The resolves, address, memorial, and petition made no shocking claims – certainly nothing that Bernard and Whitehall hadn’t seen in print a hundred times before – but did articulate moderate colonial opinion. Bernard, in an atypically and likely accidentally insightful observation, stated precisely the precedent set by the Stamp Act Congress when he wrote to Richard Jackson on November 7: “they have come to a set of resolutions much like those of separate Legislatures.” The reso
lutions weren’t new, but the Stamp Act Congress had acted as a prototypical national legislature. The paper products of the meeting were hardly the most significant results; rather, the meeting laid the foundation for colonial communication and eventual unification. These disparate colonies had never before met to unify their efforts and synthesize their thoughts in application to a common problem. Their existence up to that point had typically ricocheted from pointed apathy to sibling rivalry to affably brutish provocation and back again. The October 1765 “Convention at New-York” conceived the essence of a national consciousness and produced a model for colonial communication and unification efforts up through the revolution.
James Otis returned to Boston to witness years of revolutionary agitation coming to fruition against an intransigent government. It was November 1, and the Stamp Act officially went into effect. The Boston he returned to was fully engulfed in the flames of revolution. The terror of the mobs drove Governor Bernard to Castle William, but the rebels recalled Bernard’s late September question: “Will any ones Person or Property be safe when their sole Protector the Law is disabled to act?” The courts were closed, but the Loyal Nine, the high command of the increasingly large “Sons of Liberty” mob, maintained order in the streets. As church bells tolled, a throng of Bostonians marched peacefully past the Town House to the gallows where effigies were hung of George Grenville and John Huske, who was rumored to have lobbied for the passage of the Stamp Act in the House of Commons. According to James Freeman’s notes from that day: