A Royal Order

THE royal order sent by Hillsborough late in April, 1768, requiring the American assemblies to treat the Circular Letter of the Massachusetts Legislature with contempt, as "an unwarrantable combination and flagitious attempt to disturb the public peace," and threatening them with dissolution in case they should refuse compliance, created a tempest of indignation all over the land. That order was properly regarded as a direct attempt to abridge or absolutely control free discussion in the colonies, and so deprive them of their best guaranty for the preservation of their liberties. They resented the king's action in the matter in respectful and decorous words that were full of the spirit of a people determined to be free; and that order was more potential in crystallizing the colonies into a permanent union than any event in their past history. They felt that in union only would consist their strength in the great conflict that now appeared inevitable, and which thinking men believed near at hand. Franklin in England, writing to his son concerning a proffered colonial office, said: "I apprehend a breach between the two countries." Samuel Langdon of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, who had been a chaplain in the provincial army at the capture of Louisburg, wrote to Ezra Stiles, then a clergyman at Newport and afterward President of Yale College: "It is best for the Americans to let the king know the utmost of their resolutions, and the danger of a violent rending of the colonies from the mother country." Stephen Hopkins, then sixty years of age, and a Son of Liberty of truest metal, wrote from his home in Rhode Island to a friend in Boston: "Persevere in the good work. We will abide with you to the end; the God of wisdom and of justice is with us." Roger Sherman, the thoughtful shoemaker, on the judicial bench of Connecticut, and afterward, with Hopkins, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, wrote: "No assembly on the continent will ever concede that Parliament has a right to tax the colonies;" and in another letter he said: "The right of unfettered discussion is inalienable, and we must maintain it." William Williams, a citizen of the same State and afterward a signer of the great Declaration, wrote from Lebanon to a friend: "We cannot believe that they [the British government] will draw the sword in their own colonies; but if they do, our blood is more at their service than our liberties." John Morin Scott, an ardent Son of Liberty in New York, and brave fellow-soldier of William Livingston, in the battle with the pen against the Church and State of Great Britain, wrote to a member of the Massachusetts Legislature: "You are right, and that is sufficient for me. We will fight the tory faction here, and the British regulars too, if necessary." When Chandler, the good rector of Elizabethtown and champion of the Church of England, wrote, "The colonies will soon experience worse things than in the late stamp act, or I am no prophet," the patriots of New Jersey smiled at the covert threat, and Richard Stockton, then a conservative member of the governor's council, but afterward a signer of the Declaration of Independence, wrote to William Livingston, saying: "We must maintain the natural and chartered rights of the colonists, but by peaceful and lawful means."

The colonial assemblies everywhere took decided action, and exhibited remarkable unanimity of sentiment. New Hampshire was warmly responsive to the sentiments of Langdon's letter. The Assembly of Rhode Island highly approved of the action of Massachusetts. In Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey, the same spirit was manifested. The New York Assembly adopted the Massachusetts Circular, and declared, by resolutions, the undoubted right of the people, through their representatives, to correspond and consult with any of the neighboring colonies on subjects of public importance. They chose a committee of correspondence; and the inhabitants of the city of New York, in a public letter addressed to their representatives in the Assembly, denounced the royal order "as the most daring insult that was ever offered to any free legislative body." That Assembly, which had yielded a little to the requirements of the mutiny act, now had more backbone of patriotism, and stood up manfully in support of the people's rights. The Sons of Liberty in New York were very active at the same time, and in the newspapers, hand-bills and pamphlets, they offered their sentiments with great boldness. A hand-bill, which was widely posted about the city on a dark night, bore these words:-"Let these truths be indelibly impressed on our minds, that we cannot be free without being secure in our property; that we cannot be secure in our property if, without our consent, others may, as by right, take it away; that taxes imposed by Parliament do thus take it away; that duties laid for the sole purpose of raising money are taxes; that attempts to lay such, should be instantly and firmly opposed."