Part 17

"They understand it thus: by the same charter and otherwise they are entitled to all the privileges and liberties of Englishmen. They find in the Great Charters and the Petition and Declaration of Rights that one of the privileges of English subjects is, that they are not to be taxed but by their common consent. They have therefore relied upon it, from the first settlement of the province, that the Parliament never would, nor could, by color of that clause in the charter, assume a right of taxing them till it had qualified itself to exercise such right by admitting representatives from the people to be taxed, who ought to make a part of that common consent."

But to print all the brilliant passages of this examination would require too much space. It should be read entire; for in its wonderful display of human intelligence we see Franklin at his best. He never did anything else quite equal to it, and he never again had such an opportunity. It was an ordeal that would have crushed or appalled ordinary men, and would have been too much for some very able men. They would have evaded the severe questions, given commonplace answers, or sought refuge in obscurity, eloquence, or sentiment. But Franklin, with perfect composure, ease, and almost indifference, met every question squarely as it was asked. Many other persons were examined during the long weeks of that investigation, but who now knows who they were? They may have been as well informed as Franklin, and doubtless many of them were; but they were submerged in the situation which he made a stepping-stone to greatness.

In nothing that he said can there be discovered the slightest trace of hurry, surprise, or disturbed temper; everything is unruffled and smooth. He guards without effort the beauty and perfection of his language as carefully as its substance. Each reply is complete. Nothing can be added to it, and it would be impossible to abbreviate it. It was his superb physical constitution that enabled him to bear himself thus. No prize-fighter could have been more self-possessed.

As is well known, he could seldom speak long, especially at this time of his life, without jesting or telling stories; but there is no trace of this in the examination, and the slightest touch of anything of the kind would have marred its wonderful merit. In his previous conversations with members he had been humorous enough. On one occasion a Tory asked him, as he would not agree to the act, to at least help them to amend it. He said he could easily do that by the change of a single word. The act read that it was to be enforced on a certain day in the year one thousand seven hundred and sixty-five. Just change one to two, he said, and America will have little or no objection to it. During his examination members who favored the repeal asked him questions calculated to bring out his favorite arguments, and one of them, remembering this jest, asked him a question which would lead to it. It seems to have been the only question he evaded; for, as he has told us, he considered such a jest too light and ridiculous for the occasion.

The Stamp Act was repealed principally through the efforts of the merchants and tradespeople who thronged the lobbies of the House of Commons and clamorously demanded that the Americans should be restored to a condition in which they would be willing to buy British goods; but there is no question that Franklin's efforts and examination greatly assisted, and members of the opposition party thanked him for the aid he had given them in carrying the repeal. Pennsylvania reappointed him her agent, and he continued his life in London as a sort of colonial ambassador. In 1768 Georgia made him her agent, and during the next two years he was appointed agent for both New Jersey and Massachusetts; so that he was in a sense representing at London the interests of America.

His appointment as the agent of Massachusetts had been opposed by many of the leaders of the liberty party in Boston; for his opinions were rather too moderate to suit them. He still retained his confidence in George III. as a safe ruler for America, and he did all he could to soften and accommodate the differences existing between the colonies and the mother country.

His motives were, of course, attacked and his moderation ascribed to his love of office. He was at that time Postmaster of North America, and as his income of a thousand pounds a year from his partnership with David Hall in the printing business ceased in 1766, he was naturally desirous to retain his postmaster's salary. His zeal for the American cause was inclining Lord Sandwich, the Postmaster-General, to remove him, while the Duke of Grafton was disposed to give him a better office in England, in order to identify him with the mother country and bring him into close relations with the government.

There is no evidence that he was unduly influenced by love of office. His confidence in the king was merely a mistake which many other people made, and his moderation and attempt to settle all difficulties amicably were measures which a man of his temperament and in his position would naturally take.

He tried to give the English correct opinions about America, and to disclose the true interest and the true relations which should subsist between the mother and her daughters. To this end he wrote articles for the newspapers, and reprinted Dickinson's "Farmer's Letters" with a preface written by himself. There was a large party led by Burke, Barré, Onslow, Lord Chatham, and others who were favorable to America, and it seemed as if this party might be made larger. At any rate, Franklin felt bound to take sides with them, and assist them as far as possible. His articles were humorous, and necessarily anonymous; for he feared they would lose half of the slight effect they had if the name of the American agent were signed to them.

His two famous articles were published in the early autumn of 1773. One, called "Rules for Reducing a Great Empire to a Small One," was an admirable satire on the conduct of the British government. A great empire is like a cake, most easily diminished at the edges. Take care that colonies never enjoy the same rights as the mother country. Forget all benefits conferred by colonies; treat them as if they were always inclined to revolt; send prodigals, broken gamesters, and stock-jobbers to rule over them; punish them for petitioning against injustice; despise their voluntary grants of money, and harass them with novel taxes; threaten that you have the right to tax them without limit; take away from them trial by jury and _habeas corpus_, and those who are suspected of crimes bring to the mother country for trial; send the most insolent officials to collect the taxes; apply the proceeds of the taxes to increasing salaries and pensions; keep adjourning the colonial assemblies until they pass the laws you want; redress no grievances; and send a standing army among them commanded by a general with unlimited power.

The popularity of this piece was so great that all the newspapers copied it and new editions had to be issued. The other article was a short squib, called "An Edict of the King of Prussia," and professes to be a formal announcement by Frederick the Great that, inasmuch as the British isles were originally Saxon colonies and have now reached a flourishing condition, it is just and expedient that a revenue be raised from them; and he goes on to declare the measures he had decided to put in force, which are most clever burlesques on the measures adopted by England for America.

This edict also had a great run of popularity, and of course its authorship became known. Many of the slow-witted English at first thought it real, and Franklin in a letter to his son gives an interesting account of its reception, and at the same time allows us a glimpse of his life at English country houses:

"I was down at Lord le Despencer's, when the post brought that day's papers. Mr. Whitehead was there, too, (Paul Whitehead, the author of 'Manners,') who runs early through all the papers, and tells the company what he finds remarkable. He had them in another room, and we were chatting in the breakfast parlor, when he came running in to us out of breath, with the paper in his hand. 'Here,' says he, 'here's news for ye! Here's the King of Prussia claiming a right to this kingdom!' All stared, and I as much as anybody; and he went on to read it. When he had read two or three paragraphs, a gentleman present said, 'Damn his impudence; I dare say we shall hear by next post that he is upon his march with one hundred thousand men to back this.' Whitehead, who is very shrewd, soon after began to smoke it, and looking in my face, said, 'I'll be hanged if this is not some of your American jokes upon us.' The reading went on, and ended with abundance of laughing, and a general verdict that it was a fair hit; and the piece was cut out of the paper and preserved in my Lord's collection."

This was all very pleasant for Franklin, and increased his fame, especially among the Whigs, who were already on the side of America. But the Tories, whom it was necessary to win, were so indignant and so deeply disgusted that these brilliant essays may be said to have done more harm than good.

It is not usual for an ambassador in a foreign country to discuss in the public prints the questions at issue between that country and his own. It would generally be regarded as serious misconduct, and the rule which prohibits it seems to be founded on good reasons. The ambassador is not there for the purpose of instructing or influencing the general public. He is not in any way concerned with them, but is concerned only with the heads of the government, with whom alone he carries on the business of his mission. In order that he may fulfil his part successfully he must be acceptable, or at least not offensive, to the persons in control of the government. But how can he be acceptable to them if he is openly or in secret appealing to the people of the country against them? Will they not regard him very much as if he were a spy or an enemy in disguise in their midst?

This was precisely the difficulty into which Franklin got himself. He was not called an ambassador, and he would not have been willing to admit that he was in a foreign country. But in effect he was in that position, being the duly accredited agent of colonies that had a serious quarrel with the mother country which every one knew might terminate in war. When he began to write anonymous articles full of sarcasm and severity against the ministry of the party in power he was doing what, under ordinary diplomatic circumstances, might have caused his dismissal. It was distinctly a step downward. It was not different in essentials from that of an ambassador joining one of the political parties of the country to which he is accredited and making stump speeches for it. His arguments were approved only by people among the English liberals who were already convinced, while they made him bitter enemies among the Tory governing class at a time when he had every reason to mollify them, and when he was doing his utmost to accommodate amicably the differences between the mother and her daughters. They had now a handle against him, something that would offset the charm of his conversation, his learning, and his discoveries in science which gave him such influence among notable people. They soon had the opportunity they wanted in the famous episode of the Hutchinson letters.

In order to carry out his purpose of accommodating all disputes, he was in the habit of saying wherever he went in England that the colonies were most loyal and loving; that there was no necessity for the severe measures against Boston,--quartering troops on her, and other oppressions. Such severities created the impression among the Americans that the whole English nation was against them; they did not stop to think that it was merely the ministry and the party in power. Accordingly there were riots and tumults among some of the disorderly classes in America which in their turn created a wrong impression in England, where such disturbances were falsely supposed to be representative of the colonists at large. In this way the misunderstanding was continually aggravated because the true state of things was unknown.

Many people in England were disposed to smile at this pretty delusion of peace and affection, but they thought it best to let the colonial agents continue under its influence and not acquaint them with the means they had of knowing the contrary. At last, however, in the year 1772, one of them let the cat out of the bag. Franklin was talking in his usual strain to a Whig member of Parliament who was disposed to be very friendly to America, when that member frankly told him that he must be mistaken. The disorders in America were much worse than he supposed. The severe measures complained of were not the mere suggestion of the party in power in England, but had been asked for by people in Boston as the only means of restoring order and pacifying the country, which was really in a most rebellious and dangerous state.

When Franklin expressed surprise and doubt, the member said he would soon satisfy him, and a few days after placed in his hands a packet of letters which had been written by Thomas Hutchinson, the Governor of Massachusetts, Andrew Oliver, the Lieutenant-Governor, and some other officials to Mr. William Whately, a man who had held some subordinate offices and had been an important political worker in the Grenville party.

The letters described the situation in Massachusetts in the year 1768; the riotous proceedings when John Hancock's sloop was seized for violating the revenue laws; how the customs officers were insulted, beaten, the windows of their houses broken, and they obliged to take refuge on the "Romney" man-of-war. These and other proceedings the writers of the letters intimated were approved by the majority of the people, and they recommended that these turbulent colonists should, for their own good, be restrained by force, and the liberty they were misusing curtailed. "There must be an abridgment," said one of Hutchinson's letters, "of what are called English liberties."

Hutchinson, as well as some of the other writers of the letters, were natives of New England; and Hutchinson, before he became governor, had had a long public career in Massachusetts in which he had distinguished himself as a most conservative, prudent, and able man who had conferred many benefits on the colony. The letters by him and the other officials had been handed about among prominent people in London, who regarded them as better evidence of the real situation in America than the benevolent talk of the colonial agent or his brilliant and anonymous sallies in the newspapers.

The condition which the member of Parliament annexed to his loan of the letters to Franklin was that they should not be printed or copied, and after having been read by the leaders of the patriot movement in Massachusetts, they were to be returned to London. He must have had very little knowledge of the world, and Franklin must have smiled at the condition. Of course, in transmitting the letters to Massachusetts Franklin mentioned the condition. This relieved him from responsibility, and John Adams and John Hancock could do what they thought right under the circumstances.

What might have been expected soon followed. The leaders in Boston read the letters and were furious. Here were their own governors and officials secretly furnishing the British government with information that would bring punishment on the colony, and actually recommending that the punishment should be inflicted. One of Hutchinson's letters distinctly stated that the information furnished by him in a previous letter had brought the troops to Boston; and, as is well known, it was the collision of some of these troops with a mob which led to what has been called the "Boston massacre."

John Adams showed the letters to his aunt; others showed them to relatives and friends, no doubt, with the most positive instructions that they were not to be copied or printed, and were to be exhibited only to certain people. The Assembly met, and John Hancock, with a mysterious air, announced that a most important matter would in a few days be submitted to that body for consideration; but most of the members knew about it already; and when the day arrived the public was refused admittance and the letters read to the Assembly in secret session. As for publishing them, they were soon in print in London as well as in the colonies; and when the originals could be of no further use, John Adams put them in an envelope and sent them back to London, as the condition required.

The Assembly resolved to ask the crown to remove both Hutchinson and Oliver, and prepared a petition to that effect, basing the request on the ground that these two men had plotted to encourage and intensify the quarrel of the colonies with the mother country. By their false representations they had caused a fleet and an army to be brought to Massachusetts, and were therefore the cause of the confusion and bloodshed which had resulted. This petition reached the king in the summer of 1773.

Franklin thought that the whole affair would have a good effect. The resentment of the colonies against the mother country would be transferred to Hutchinson and the other individuals who had caused it; the ministry would see that the colonists were sincerely desirous of a good understanding with the British government and that Hutchinson and Oliver were evil persons bent on fomenting trouble and responsible for all the recent difficulties in Massachusetts. This was a pleasant theory, but it turned out to be utterly unsound and useless. The effect of the letters was just the opposite of what was expected. Instead of modifying the feelings of the colonists and the ministry, they increased the resentment of both.

The king and his Privy Council were not inclined to pay any attention to the petition, and it might have slept harmlessly like other petitions from America at that time. But when the letters were printed in London, people began to wonder how they had reached the colonists. They were in a sense secret information, and had been intrusted to persons who were supposed to understand that they were for government circles alone. William Whately, to whom they had been written, was dead, and as it began to be suspected that his brother and executor, Thomas Whately, might have put them into circulation, he felt bound to defend himself.

As a matter of fact, they seem to have passed out of William Whately's hands before his death, and were never in the possession of the executor. But the executor had given permission to John Temple to look over the deceased Whately's papers and to take from them certain letters which Temple and his brother had written to him. Accordingly, Thomas Whately went to see Temple, who gave the most positive assurances that he had taken only his own and his brother's letters, and he repeated these assurances twice afterwards. But the suspicion against him getting into the newspapers, he demanded from Whately a public statement exonerating him. Whately published a statement which merely gave the facts and exonerated him no more than to say that Temple had assured him he did not take the Hutchinson letters. Such a statement left an unpleasant implication against Temple, for the executor seemed studiously to avoid saying that he believed Temple's assurances.

So Temple challenged Whately, and the challenge was carried by Ralph Izard, of South Carolina. They fought a queer sort of duel which would have amused Frenchmen, and half a century later would have amused Carolinians. Whately declined to be bothered with a second, so Temple could not have one. They met in Hyde Park at four in the morning, Whately with a sword and Temple with both sword and pistols. Seeing that Whately had only a sword, he supposed that he must be particularly expert with it, and he therefore suggested that they fight with pistols. They emptied their weapons without effect, and then took to their blades.

Temple, who was something of a swordsman, soon discovered that Whately knew nothing of the art, and he chivalrously tried to wound him slightly, so as to end the encounter. But Whately slashed and cut in a bungling way that was extremely dangerous; and Temple, finding that he was risking his life by his magnanimity, aimed a thrust which would have killed Whately if he had not seized the blade in his left hand. As it was, it wounded him severely in the side, and he suggested that the fight end. But his opponent in this extraordinary duel was deaf, and, recovering his sword, as Whately slipped forward he wounded him in the back of the shoulder.

Izard and Arthur Lee, of Virginia, now arrived on the scene and separated the combatants. One result of not fighting in the regular manner with witnesses was that some people believed, from the wound on Whately's back, that Temple had attempted to stab him when he was down. Meantime Franklin, who had been out of town on one of his pleasant excursions, returned to London and, hearing that another duel between the two was imminent, published a letter in the newspapers announcing that he was the person who had obtained and sent the letters to Massachusetts, and that they had never been in the possession of the executor and consequently could not have been stolen from him by Temple.

He supposed that he had ended the difficulty most handsomely, and he continued to hope for good results from making the letters public. But the ministry and the Tories had now the opportunity they wanted. They saw a way to deprive him of his office of postmaster and attack his character. He had admitted sending the letters to Massachusetts. But how had he obtained them? How did he get possession of the private letters of a deceased member of the government; letters, too, that every one had been warned not to allow to get into a colonial agent's hands? If the distinguished man of science whose fascinating manner and conversation were the delight of London drawing-rooms and noblemen's country-seats had stepped down from the heights of philosophy to do this sort of work, why, then, his great reputation and popularity need no longer be considered as protecting him.

It was unfortunate that Franklin sent these letters to Massachusetts in the way that has been described. At the same time it is rather too much to expect that he should have foreseen all the results. But after more than a hundred years have passed we can perhaps review the position of the Tory government a little more calmly than has been usual.

Let us suppose that the Spanish minister in the United States should get possession of letters sent from Spain by our minister there to the Secretary of State at Washington; and we will assume also that these letters relate to a matter of serious controversy between our country and Spain, and are the private communications from our minister to the Secretary of State. If the Spanish minister should send these letters to his government, and that government should publish them in its own and our newspapers, would there not be considerable indignation in America? Would it not be said that the Spanish minister was here to conduct diplomatic negotiations in the usual way and not for the purpose of securing possession of the private documents of our government? Would it not be assumed at once that he must have bribed some one to give him the letters, or got them in some other clandestine way? and would not his country in all probability be asked to recall him?