CHAPTER IV.MAKING HISTORY.
Unthronedand uncrowned as he was, James, for some inexplicable reason, still entertained a wild idea that the colonies, the patriots of which he had taken no pains to endear to his cause or himself, would still remain loyal and contented to acquiesce in his dominion. He made all haste to communicate with Sir William Phipps, as a representative of New England whom he had always honored and esteemed. He offered to appoint the Captain his Governor of all New England, with plenary powers, in almost any direction, concerning the old charter and all.
Promptly and with the blunt wisdom which marked his course through life, Phipps refused the honor. Catholicism had never appealed to his sense of good government, and loyalty to the English throne, from which the colonies had their being, was deeply ingrained in his nature. Gratitude to James for past favors, to which he felt he was somewhat entitled, was a large quality in Sir William, but between gratitude and folly he drew a sturdy line.
With Increase Mather, Phipps went to work at once at the Court of William of Orange, who with Mary ascended the British throne early in 1689. Intelligence as to the sinister machinations of Randolph and Androsleaked through the censorship, and came to Mather and the Captain. Their case was strengthened. The Prince of Orange was bound, by all the faith of his Protestant principles, to grant what release he might to the American colonies from the oppressors placed in power by the Stuarts.
The new King’s declaration of his sway was conveyed in haste to the American shores. It was taken overland from Virginia to Massachusetts. The spirit of the Puritans, which had simmered so long, began to make the sounds of boiling.
Andros, mighty in his sovereignty, arrested the messenger who had fetched the news, but the news had leaped from lip to lip, and the torch had been applied to combustible thought.
In March, John Winslow confirmed the declaration of the new monarchs. The people now gathered together their all-but-forgotten muskets and pikes. Against the flood-tide coming toward him, Governor Andros reared a barricade of threats. The frigate “Rose” was lying in the harbor, bristling with guns that showed like so many sinister, black fangs. Her decks were alive with soldiers. The Governor demanded the submission and disarmament of the people, on pain of death. He declared his intention of employing the cannon and arsenal of the frigate forthwith, if the angry disturbances did not immediately cease.
On the 18th of April the patriots were prepared with their answer. The captain of the frigate, with nearly all of his officers, had come ashore, to hold a conference with Andros and Randolph. The Puritans suddenly swooped down upon them and captured everyJack of the lot. The frigate was thus put out of action at one clever stroke.
Now rolled the alarm of beaten drums through the martial city of Boston. In their old Indian-fighting regalia, the citizens swarmed from their houses into the streets. They set up their ensign on Beacon Hill, at the edge of the Common, they fired a signal gun for action, and falling upon Randolph and many of the council, which Andros had collected about him, they rushed them to jail and took possession of the town.
The proclamation of King William was read, with loud acclaim. The excited populace surged in the narrow, crooked highways. The leaders demanded of Andros that he surrender both his office and himself. The man refused and fled to his stronghold, whence he defied the patriots and continued to the last to declare his power, though like water now fast escaping from his grasp.
Surrounding their ex-master they made him a prisoner, not a refugee, and at length he gave in and was captured and sent to confinement, along with the others of his recent government.
With an instinct for conventions, the citizens were soon assembled. Howsoever great had been their heat in their moment of rebellion and triumph, they were calm enough to be wise when the time arrived to declare for themselves. They reinstated Bradstreet and the Council of ’86. They declared the old Government in force and their former charteripso factorestored, unimpaired by the interim of nearly three years of maladministration.
William and Mary received the report of all theseswiftly terminated proceedings with a favor which was not unblended with astonishment. Admiring the Protestant spirit, which it had become their own special province to uphold, they lost no time in confirming the entire course of actions, even to the temporary resumption of their old charter privileges and powers, by the patriots across the sea. And there, for a time, they were contented to permit the matter to rest. The affairs of England they had found so completely engrossing that they had no time to spare toward regranting a specific charter to Massachusetts.
Increase Mather, suspicions of privileges and liberties not absolutely signed, sealed and delivered, remained at his post, working continuously and sedulously to obtain that monarchical support and confirmation of the colony’s prerogatives which his many compatriots had sent him to secure.
Sir William Phipps, on the other hand, realized the busy state of mind in which William and Mary had been so abruptly plunged, and he therefore deferred further work with Mather for a time more suitable. Then, when he learned that the French Catholics in America had formed alliances with the Indians and were already overrunning the Protestant territory and committing daily depredations, he made up his mind once more to return to the field of action, in which he might be able to render more effective service than he could by remaining in England.
He arrived in the summer of that fateful year, ’89, and offered himself to Bradstreet at once. The period of warfare in which he thereupon engaged was one of great length and of much bitterness.
Alternating defeat and victory left the advantages with the French and Indians, so far as hopes of ultimate success were concerned. The colonists had to make such long, tedious marches that decisive victories for their arms were almost impossible. The enemy gained in confidence, audacity and numbers.
In despair the General Court finally offered two sloops of war, free, together with all the profits of plunder which might result from the enterprise, to any man who would undertake to reduce to ashes Penobscot, St. John’s and Port Royal, the seats of the French and Indian power. The offer attracted Phipps, who foresaw, in the execution of the task, an infinite amount of adventure and action.
He enlisted men for the undertaking. Yet matters grew worse with such alarming rapidity that before the enterprise could be placed in readiness for work, it became necessary to raise a small fleet of vessels prepared for war-like operations. Thus seven sloops and seven hundred men, under command of Sir William, sailed away to the North on their sinister errand.
Port Royal, secure and arrogant, in her fancied isolation from attack, was surprised and taken. The French were routed with great loss. The town was looted until hardly so much as a sauce-pan was left by the thorough-going warriors of New England. The plunder, while not enormously valuable, nevertheless was sufficient to help materially in meeting the expenses of the venture. But its indirect effect on the colonists was not so happy. Cupidity is so often the jackal that follows righteous indignation.
The Puritans foresaw opportunities to punish theenemy, at the enemy’s own expense. A second expedition, to go against Quebec, was planned, the patriots expecting in confidence that, like the first, it would surely succeed, if Phipps were at its head, and that the plunder would more than repay the initial expenses of the expedition.
Sir William, having expressed his doubts of the wisdom of this over-ambitious scheme, nevertheless commanded the fleet once more as it sailed away, eager for further conquest.
The enterprise was doomed to failure from the first. It dragged out interminably, it developed jealousies, it was ill-planned. Such a bedraggled, failure-smitten lot of lame-duck sloops returned to Boston that the council were simply appalled. They had expended so much of their meager hoard of funds on the venture, that the treasury was practically bankrupted.
Blame rained upon the head of Phipps, for not having succeeded against impossible conditions. Driven to extremities, by the woeful lack of plunder, the colony-fathers were obliged, for the first time in their history, to issue paper currency. The notes ranged in value from denominations of two shillings up to ten pounds.
Still an undimmed patriot, ready to serve his country in whatsoever direction an opportunity was afforded, Williams Phipps gave his gold for the colony’s bills, absorbing thus a very considerable sum. His example induced investments in the paper from all directions. Nevertheless the currency soon came tumbling down in value, till a pound in paper was worth less than three-fourths of its face.
The sailors, and other working people, lost heavily, in these times of trouble and weakened confidence. Yet eventually the money was all redeemed at par by the Massachusetts government.
Sir William, weary of being reviled for his pains, returned to England once again and resumed his labors with Increase Mather, to secure to the colony a definite charter.