USA > Massachusetts > Suffolk County > Boston > Old South church (Third church) Boston. Memorial addresses, Sunday evening, October 26, 1884 > Part 7
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The Old South was soon filled to its utmost capacity, and a vast concourse of people, many of them from the surround- ing towns, stood in the streets, eagerly waiting for the result. Presently the word passed along, " Make way for the Com- mittee !" and the crowd willingly fell back to allow the dep- utation of fifteen to pass from the town-house on their way to report to the meeting. No one knew what their answer
1 Dr. Joseph Sewall, son of Chief- Justice Sewall, had died the previous year after a pastorate of fifty-six years, during which he had been assisted by
four colleagues. The Old South Meet- ing-house, with its spacious galleries, could hold a much larger audience than the Faneuil Hall of that day.
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would be, but it was soon surmised when Samuel Adams, leading the way with uncovered head, bowed to his friends on either side and said, in a calm and determined tone, " Both Regiments or none !" The multitude caught the meaning, and took up the watchword which exactly expressed their feeling, " Both Regiments or none !"
Adams read the answer to the meeting and pronounced it insufficient. The moderator, Thomas Cushing, then put the question, "Is this satisfactory?" and instantly from three thousand voices came one prolonged, defiant " No !" like the roar of thunder, loud enough to shake the roof. Yet so orderly was the meeting that the usual opportunity was given for any person of a different mind to speak, and the town- clerk, William Cooper, faithfully records that there was " one dissentient." A committee of seven1 was then chosen to inform the Lieutenant Governor of the town's unalterable decision.
Let us go with this committee to the council chamber and observe the proceedings at their memorable interview. Doubtless there is no single occasion in the whole history of Boston which can equal this in the dignity of the persons assembled, in the gravity of the question at issue and in the dramatic coloring with which it has been invested in the au- thentic accounts which have come down to us. The cham- ber was of the same size and general appearance then as now. Its walls were adorned with full-length portraits of Charles II. and James II., together with smaller portraits of Winthrop, Bradstreet, Endicott and Belcher. The Lieutenant Governor sat at the end of a long table around which were grouped the Councillors of the Province, twenty-eight in number, with the highest officers of the Army and Navy on the station ; all clad in the rich and variegated dress of the time, according to rank. We can imagine the scarlet coats, gold and silver lace, elaborate ruffles, white wigs and brilliant uniforms. Nor can we forget the approaching twilight and the waiting
1 Samuel Adams, John Hancock,
Joseph Warren, Joshua Henshaw and William Molineux, William Phillips, Samuel Pemberton.
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throng without, which must have added a weird significance to the scene.
Before this imposing tribunal stood Samuel Adams at the head of his committee, announcing the vote of the town and stating that nothing would satisfy them but the prompt re- moval of all the troops. "The troops are not subject to my authority," replied Hutchinson, " I have no power to remove them." The patriot was not to be dismayed by this evasive answer. He had evidently anticipated it; and now, drawing strength from the energies of his soul, he took a firm position, and while all eyes were fastened upon him, he gazed at his antagonist for a moment, and then, with measured words and impressive gesture, he calmly replied : " If you have power to remove one regiment, you have power to remove both. It is at your peril if you do not. The meeting is composed of three thousand people. They are become very impatient. A thousand men are already arrived from the neighborhood, and the country is in general motion. On you alone rests the responsibility of the decision ; and if the just expectations of the people are disappointed you must be answerable to God and your country for the fatal consequences that must ensue. The committee have discharged their duty, and it is for you to discharge yours. Night is approaching. An immediate answer is expected."1
Such was the ultimatum which Samuel Adams, in the name of the people, laid down in that council chamber. Its effect upon Hutchinson is narrated by Adams himself in a subsequent letter to a friend, in which he says : "I observed his knees to tremble; I thought I saw his face grow pale ; and I enjoyed the sight."
One can hardly read this account without being reminded of some of the great interviews in history, such as Paul before Felix, Luther at Worms, or John Knox before Mary Stuart. The scene will some day find an artist who, grasping its meaning and using its ample resources, will give to America
1 Bancroft, VI. 344. Frothingham's Warren, 145. Wells, I. 322.
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a canvas which will worthily portray the "Father of the Revolution" in the moment of his greatest triumph. Copley's famous portrait of Adams, painted for Hancock, and now hanging in Faneuil Hall, represents the patriot standing before Hutchinson on this occasion, holding in one hand the message from his exasperated townsmen, and with the other pointing to the charter of their liberties lying upon the table. The attitude is bold and dignified, the face lofty and resolute, and the one inflexible purpose of the speaker dominant over all.
The sculptor's art has also, in our own time, done excel- lent justice to the inspiring theme. The noble statue in marble, by Miss Whitney, presented a few years ago by the State of Massachusetts to the Nation's hall of worthies at the Capitol, fitly commemorates the heroic spirit of the man who wrung from arbitrary power this notable concession to the demands of the people. A bronze statue of Adams, from the same model with slight changes, now occupies a prominent place in our city, midway between the ancient halls which so often echoed to the sound of his voice. He has finished speaking and is standing erect with folded arms and com- pressed lips, calmly awaiting the answer of the Lieutenant Governor.
That answer came at last, and the pledge was given that the will of the town should be obeyed. The committee made their report ; the people quietly dispersed ; and the troops- henceforth to be known as " The Sam Adams Regiments "- were sent to the Castle.
Notwithstanding the great relief which this decision gave to the town, Adams allowed himself no respite. Others dis- missed the matter and went about their ordinary affairs, thinking that all trouble was now over, but he redoubled his energies and worked incessantly in private and in public, organizing new measures, writing for the Gazette, and draft- ing resolutions, protests and letters of instruction for the Assembly. He was the most active political writer in the Province, the chief adviser in the caucus, and the very soul
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of the town-meeting. Indeed from all accounts it seems as if nothing was done without him. The annual celebrations of the Boston massacre, which became so popular, were largely of his planning. Modestly keeping himself in the back-ground as far as possible, he was always putting able and trustworthy patriots before the people as orators, mode- rators, and committees. He advocated with great zeal the " non-importation agreement," and the union of towns and colonies in the support of all matters of common interest, especially in connection with his masterly scheme of the "Committees of Correspondence," until at length his voice was heard for a Continental Congress.
This was in the summer of 1773, when the news of the tea tax aroused a universal spirit of resistance. It was known to be an insidious measure skilfully contrived to col- lect a duty without apparent cost to the purchaser, the trib- ute being nominally paid by the East India Company in London. But it was only another test case, involving a re- cognition of the supremacy of Parliament, and everyone understood it. " Are the Americans such blockheads," said some one in New York, " as to care whether it be a hot red poker or a red hot poker which they are to swallow, pro- vided Lord North forces them to swallow one of the two?" The whole country was in a blaze about this, and nothing that England could have done would have served to unite the colonies more thoroughly. Adams saw it, and immedi- ately appealed through the press, and by the circulars of his committee, " for a Congress of American States to frame a Bill of Rights." He had indeed been working towards this for two years, as may be seen in his letters to Arthur Lee, in 1771, in which he suggests an annual meeting of deputies from all the Colonies. "This is a sudden thought," he says, " and drops undigested from my pen." " I have long been of opinion that America herself, under God, must finally work out her own salvation."
While engaged in spreading this sentiment as widely as possible, Adams was also busy with his fellow-patriots mak-
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ing arrangements for the proper reception of the " detested tea." The consignees were cautioned in advance by the " Liberty Tree " committee. The clubs and newspapers were of one mind on the subject. Numerous town meetings were held, first in Faneuil Hall and then in the Old South, at which it was unanimously determined, upon Adams's mo- tion, that the tea should be sent back and that no duty should be paid upon it. It was a difficult matter to convince the authorities that this vote of the town was imperative. Every- thing was done by the leaders in the way of warning, per- sonal visitation and reasonable delays, to facilitate the execu- tion of the people's order, but official obstructions prevented up to the very last day before the ships would be subject to confiscation. That was the memorable Thursday, the six- teenth of December-that day of days in Boston history- when the largest town meeting that was ever held, numbering, it is said, seven thousand men, filled the Old South and all its approaches. The deliberations of the morning were ad- journed to three o'clock to allow time for Rotch, the owner of the " Dartmouth," who had been refused a clearance at the Custom House, to obtain the necessary sailing-permit of the Governor, then at his country-seat in Milton. The afternoon session was prolonged for hours waiting for the merchant's return. Addresses were made by Adams, Young, Quincy and others, and the vote was taken again, and without a dissenting voice, that the tea should in no case be landed. " Who knows," said Rowe, "how tea will mingle with salt water?" a remark which elicited loud ap- plause. We cannot but respect the patience of such a gather- ing, and the restraining influence exercised by the leaders at this critical juncture. Night is drawing on. The speeches have all been made, and now there are long intervals of si- lence. Only a few faces can be distinguished in the dim can- dle-light. In the pulpit sits Samuel Adams, the moderator, whose presence there is enough to control any assembly on any occasion. Some in that company-perhaps not many- are in the well-kept secret which is likely soon to astonish
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the town. Others not far away-a dauntless band-are holding themselves in readiness for the signal. And yet all is quiet, profoundly quiet.
At last, about six o'clock, Rotch appeared and reported that the Governor had refused the pass. Then the moderator rose and said, " This meeting can do nothing more to save the country."
Scarcely had the words fallen from his lips, when a war- whoop was heard at the door, and a band of men, disguised as Indians, swept by on their way to Griffin's wharf, followed by the crowd. The tea-ships were boarded and placed under guard, while the " braves " in the light of the moon removed the hatches, hoisted the chests upon deck, and emptied all their contents into the sea. There was no resistance, no noise, no exultation. When the work was done, they all re- tired quietly to their homes, and by ten o'clock that night a Sabbath stillness prevailed throughout the town.
" I think we have put our enemies in the wrong," wrote Adams a few days after, " and they must in the judgment of rational men be answerable for the destruction of the tea which their own obduracy had rendered necessary. Not- withstanding what your Tories have given out, the people here are universally pleased, excepting the disconcerted Hutchinson and his few, very few adherents." A little later he added : "It is our duty at all hazards to preserve the public liberty. Righteous Heaven will graciously smile on every manly and rational attempt to secure the best of all His gifts to man from the ravishing hand of lawless and brutal power." 1
The little town hardly knew what vials of wrath it was opening upon its own head. Parliamentary vengeance was swift and sure. Acts were passed closing the port of Boston, changing the constitution of the Province, and authorizing the Governor to bring to punishment the leaders of the movement, chief of whom was Samuel Adams. General
1 From original letters to James War-
ren, of Plymouth, dated Dec. 28, 1773,
and March 31, 1774, now in the posses- sion of Winslow Warren, Esq.
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Gage with a large military force was now ordered to succeed Hutchinson, whose authority had gradually dwindled away. Rigorous measures were everywhere enforced, and much suffering ensued from the loss of trade. But this only nerved the hearts of patriots in all the Colonies, and brought them together in the bonds of sympathy as never before.
Circular letters, drafted by Adams and submitted by the Boston Committee, were carried by Paul Revere to New York and Philadelphia, conveying a loud and eloquent appeal to the country. Responses came back in quick succession from towns and legislatures, pledging their support to the " common cause."
An opportunity for the full expression of this sentiment was soon given by the meeting of the first Congress at Phila- delphia, in September, 1774,-a meeting proposed by Adams, in the General Court at Salem, in June. Fifty-five delegates met for the first time in one body, to act for the country at large. It was felt to be a momentous occasion, and many were not without grave apprehensions as to the results. After the organization it was proposed that Congress should open with prayer ; but objection was made by Jay and Rut- ledge, on account of the diversity of religious views among the members. This moved Samuel Adams to rise and say that "he was no bigot and could hear a prayer from a gentleman of piety and virtue who was at the same time a friend to his country. He was a stranger in Philadelphia, but had heard that Mr. Duché," an Episcopal clergyman resident there, deserved that character. He therefore moved that Mr. Duche be invited to officiate on the following morn- ing. The motion was carried, and the "first prayer in Con- gress " became a subject of universal interest, touching the hearts of those who heard it, and by its patriotic petitions serving as a symbol of that political union towards which the country was rapidly tending.
But it was conciliation and not yet independence that was talked of in this body. The members were divided into two parties, but not even the party of liberty contemplated so
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radical a project as separation. Adams knew this, and was too wise to force his policy prematurely. He therefore con- tented himself with general measures in which all could join. Thus he escaped needless controversy, and at the same time employed the energies of his mind in preparing the way for united counsels when the real question should arise. That he was not idle we learn from Galloway, the Loyalist member, who wrote of him: "He eats little, drinks little, sleeps little, thinks much, and is most decisive and indefatigable in the pursuit of his objects."
The operation of the Port Act had given Mr. Adams much anxiety lest it should provoke to deeds of violence, and so bring on a premature conflict, which he deprecated as much as he did submission itself. This feeling found expression in a letter to James Warren : " I beseech you to implore every friend in Boston, by everything dear and sacred to men of sense and virtue, to avoid blood and tumult. They will have time enough to die. Let them give the other provinces op- portunity to think and resolve. Rash spirits that would by their impetuosity involve us in unsurmountable difficulties will be left to perish by themselves . . . Nothing can ruin us but our violence. Reason teaches this . . . These are the sentiments of a man who, you know, my dear sir, loves the people of Boston and that government with the tender- ness of a brother."1
On returning to Massachusetts at the close of the session, Adams found more work than ever awaiting him in the pro- ceedings of the Provincial Congress, which, in his absence, had superseded the General Court. Boston was now block- aded and bristling with arms. His first endeavor, as chair- man of his committee, was to warn the people of the rapidly increasing dangers that surrounded them, and to recommend immediate military preparations. "Our safety, " he says, in a letter to Arthur Lee, " depends upon our being in readiness for the extreme event. Of this the people here are thoroughly
] From the Winslow Warren collection.
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sensible, and from the preparations they are making, I trust in God they will defend their liberties with dignity."
March comes round, and with it the usual commemoration of the " horrid massacre." Warren gives the oration in the Old South, and Adams again appears as moderator, in the pulpit which is heavily draped for the occasion. About forty British officers are sitting in the front pews and on the pulpit stairs. One of them holds up a handful of bullets directly under the orator's eye. Warren quietly drops his handkerchief upon them without pausing in his discourse. Several attempts are made to disturb the meeting by groans and hisses, but order is maintained by the moderator, through whose efforts a colli- sion, for which all the elements are present, is happily averted. The air, however, was now so heavily charged with war that an outbreak was likely to occur at any time. So Adams thought, and so he was continually saying. It came sooner than many expected, but it was no surprise to him. He could even exult over the scene on Lexington Common, as from the neighboring hill he saw the glistening bayonets and heard the deadly fire. " What a glorious morning for Ameri- ca !" he exclaimed to Hancock, as if with prophetic vision he saw the veil removed, and the independence of his country portrayed in the sunlight of its new-born glory.1
But his long cherished hopes were not yet to be realized. The people everywhere flew to arms upon the instant, show- ing a bold and united front, although they still looked for concessions as soon as England should see that they were in earnest. So general was this feeling that the question of in- dependence was not so much as raised at Philadelphia during the next session of Congress. Even John Adams and Jeffer- son, Franklin and Washington were not in favor of it. They all dreaded the idea of cutting loose from the parent country, and they naturally shrank from the task of creating an en-
1 After the adjournment of the Pro- vincial Congress at Concord, April 15, Adams and Hancock were spending a few days in Lexington with the Rev. Jonas Clark, a relative of Hancock's,
and an ardent patriot, whose house indeed had often been a resort of the leaders in council when they sought that privacy which British espionage ren- dered insecure in Boston.
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tirely new government. But Samuel Adams saw that the nineteenth of April had put an end to British rule in the colonies, and in every possible way he urged the assertion of the fact. "Is not America already independent?" he wrote to Dr. Cooper ; " Why then not declare it? Can nations at war be said to be dependent, either upon the other ? I ask you again, why not declare for independence ?"1 And a little later, writing from Philadelphia to James Warren, he said : " You know my temper. Perhaps I may be too im- patient. I have long wished for the determination of some momentous questions. If delay shall prove mischievous, I shall have no reason to reflect upon myself. Every one here knows what my sentiments have been."2
The same combination of patience and energy and tact, by which Adams had invariably carried the Boston town- meeting, came to his support in Congress, bringing round one and another to his way of thinking, until at last, after all the vexatious hindrances and repeated postponements, the immortal Declaration was given to the world, crowning with a nation's approval what must ever be regarded as the greatest life-work of Samuel Adams. As his distinguished kinsman said of him, " he was born and tempered a wedge of steel to split the knot of lignum-vitæ which tied North America to Great Britain." If he had done nothing else, his champion- ship of the doctrine of independence through all its stages would have entitled him to the lasting gratitude of his country- men. For this, if for no other service, as George Clymer truly said, " all good Americans should erect a statue to him in their hearts."
For seven years, Adams remained in Congress, actively engaged in its absorbing work. Many of its greatest measures were framed by his wisdom and carried by his indefatigable exertions. His name appears on almost all the prominent committees, and often as the chairman. He seconded the mo- tion of John Adams appointing Washington General-in-chief of the army. He urged the building of a navy. He favored
1 Wells, II. 393.
2 From the Winslow Warren Collection.
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long enlistments. He advocated an early representation at foreign courts, and was pleased with the prospect of a French alliance. In the gloomiest days of the war, when a succession of reverses had followed the American arms, and when many hearts were filled with fear, Adams was calm and cheerful. " A patriot," he said, "may grieve at the distress of his country, but he will never despair. . . . Our affairs, it is said, are desperate. If this be our language, they are indeed. . . . If we despond, public confidence is destroyed. But we are not driven to such narrow straits. . . . Our burdens, though grievous, can be borne. Our losses, though great, can be retrieved. Through the darkness which shrouds our prospects, the ark of safety is visible. . . . We have ap- pealed to Heaven for the justice of our cause, and in Heaven have we placed our trust. . . . In the gloomy period of adversity we have had our ' cloud by day and pillar of fire by night.' We have been reduced to distress, and the arm of Omnipotence has raised us up. Let us still rely in humble confidence on Him who is mighty to save."
During his long term of congressional service Mr. Adams was also called to fill various responsible positions at home. Some of the time he held as many as six important offices at once, being Secretary of State for Massachusetts, member of the Council, representative in the Legislature, delegate to the State Constitutional Convention,1 and member of the Board of War. Upon the ratification of the articles of confedera- tion, in 1781, he retired from Congress, and again took up his residence in Boston. His house in Purchase Street had been rendered uninhabitable by the British during their occupation. and his family had lived with friends at Dedham and Cambridge.2
1 It is said that the Constitution of Massachusetts bears marks of greater deliberation and study than that of any other State. One can easily trace Adams's thought and language in many of its phrases.
2 After the evacuation, the Adams family lived for a period, it is said, in the confiscated mansion of Governor Hutch- inson in Garden Court St. See James
S. Loring's MS. paper read before the N. E. Hist. Gen. Soc. 1856. If this i true, it is a very suggestive fact, in th turn of fortune's wheel, that the roof ( the chief Tory should so soon have cov ered the "Chief Incendiary." Well states (III. 52, 135-6) that the confis cated house of Robert Hallowell wa obtained by Adams from the Legisla ture at a nominal rent for some years.
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Without any home of his own, he now lived for a while in a confiscated house in very straitened circumstances. So closely had he given himself to his country's cause that he had never been able to earn anything more than the merest liveli- hood. Often his income did not exceed one hundred pounds a year. When he went to Congress, his friends in their thoughtfulness gave him a suitable outfit. After the battle of Lexington, all his effects being in Boston, he was obliged to purchase even his clothing at the public expense.1 Having no business or profession of his own, he never was able to lay up any resources for his family. This may be called an unpardonable neglect, but it was the only thing he neglected and perhaps the provision which he made for his country in her sorest need will be accepted as at least an equivalent for any private fortune which he might have made for himself. Surely the colossal and unrequited labors of this public servant will lead us to be charitable in our judgment of his poverty. Rarely does a politician serve so long and so well for so little. Nations do not often find their trusted statesmen so slenderly provided for. It is a singular example-one of the very few in modern history-in which riches were totally disregarded and almost despised, by one who had ample opportunities to acquire them had he chosen. It recalls the Old Testament prophets, or the disciples of our Lord, or the preaching friars of the mendicant orders, men who swayed multitudes and turned the tide of events, but who took neither scrip, nor money in their purse. Walsingham, the great minister and diplomatist of Queen Elizabeth, with the resources of a kingdom at his disposal, scorned the luxuries of the court and died a poor man. General Gordon, the hero of the world to- day, is a man of the old Sam Adams spirit-intrepid, unsel- fish, and utterly indifferent to worldly gain or honor. Such men, with their single-hearted devotion to a great cause, are the inspiration of the ages that come after. They fascinate and win our noblest youth, showing them that there is some-
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