Biographical Introduction

    By John W. Tyler

    While in exile in England in the summer of 1776, Thomas Hutchinson began the third and final volume of his History of the Province of Massachusetts Bay. He completed the work in the fall of 1778. When he recollected the events of 1772, he wrote, “There had been no period when the province was more free from real evils . . . , and to keep up a spirit of discontent, recourse was had either to evils merely imaginary, or to such as were at a distance, and feared rather than felt.” The provincial debt had been paid off, local taxes were virtually nonexistent, Massachusetts enjoyed a sound currency that was the envy of its neighbors, and neither the French nor the Indians posed any significant threat.1 How could anyone be unhappy, and yet what he called a “sullen discontent” persisted.

    Chief among the “imaginary evils” to which he alluded were objections to independent salaries paid by the crown, either to himself as governor or to the judges of the superior court. The General Court, after all, had failed at various times to make adequate provision for both. Could anyone really object if the crown relieved Massachusetts taxpayers of this burden? For Hutchinson, the only explanation could be that “endeavors were used . . . to persuade the people . . . by groundless fears, artfully raised by men, whose views were their own advancement by the ruin of the present, easy happy model of government and the establishment of another form.” Samuel Adams, in Hutchinson’s opinion, had seized upon a nonissue to keep alive the flame of opposition in a time of relative quiet and move the colonies one step further toward his long-projected goal of total independence from Great Britain.2 For Adams and others, the new salaries removed an important check on the executive and judicial branches, which the people of Massachusetts exercised through the agency of their representatives, a key Whig article of faith.

    On 15 June 1772, Hutchinson permitted the General Court to return to its traditional meeting place in Boston after an absence of over three years. Hutchinson and John Hancock, much to Samuel Adams’s chagrin, had worked out a formula whereby the House would request its return to Boston as a matter of convenience rather than as a charter right. Thus, Hutchinson had every reason to expect a quiet session of the General Court. He was surprised, therefore, when on 10 July the House passed a series of resolutions denouncing his acceptance of a crown salary. The resolutions, drafted by Joseph Hawley, described what Hutchinson had done as a “dangerous innovation; which renders him a governor not dependent on the people, as the charter has prescribed; and consequently not, in that respect, such a governor as the people consented to,” which “exposes the province to a despotick administration of government.”3 Hutchinson, in a formal message on 14 July, gave what he believed to be a logical refutation of the charge and promptly prorogued the General Court until the end of September.4 Hutchinson assumed his message put an end to the argument, only learning after the Court had departed that the House at the last moment had drafted a remonstrance to the king and dispatched it to Benjamin Franklin, the assembly’s agent, for presentation.

    When William Tryon first became governor of New York in July 1771, he appeared anxious to resolve that colony’s disputed boundary with Massachusetts, an issue that had laid dormant since a failed conference between representatives of the two colonies in New Haven in 1767. Early in 1772, however, the New York Assembly exacerbated the situation by claiming authority over all territory north of Connecticut and west of the Connecticut River. The claim was mostly an idle threat in Massachusetts territory south of that province’s northern border, but New York was busily granting new titles to lands in present-day Vermont that conflicted with grants made thirty years earlier by New Hampshire. The issue became even more concerning for Hutchinson, however, when Tryon granted new title to 10,000 acres of land in Hinsdale, a town that straddled both sides of the Connecticut River, just north of the Massachusetts border. Hinsdale was originally founded by settlers from Massachusetts but was subsumed by New Hampshire in 1741, when Hutchinson, at the outset of his political career, had attempted unsuccessfully to defend the Massachusetts claim before the Board of Trade in London. In the years following, Hinsdale’s residents, whose lands had been granted by Massachusetts, were forced to undergo the trouble and expense of taking out new titles from New Hampshire. Would the townspeople of Hinsdale now be obliged to secure new titles from New York? At the urging of the Massachusetts General Court, Hutchinson wrote promptly to Lord Hillsborough to plead their case.

    Surely the most shocking event to occur in the summer of 1772 was the destruction of HMS Gaspée after it ran aground in Narragansett Bay. Earlier that summer, the commander of the Gaspée had angered Rhode Islanders with his high-handed tactics. Crews of long boats set out from Providence during the night of 9 June, seized the vessel, wounded its captain, and burned the schooner to the waterline. Governor Joseph Wanton and the Rhode Island authorities knew they would be expected to make a diligent investigation to discover the culprits but were not eager to inquire too deeply, since rumor had it that the boarding party was led by some of Rhode Island’s leading citizens. Chief Justice Stephen Hopkins did everything possible to keep the investigation out of the vice-admiralty court, but when word reached England, the Privy Council acted swiftly to appoint a royal commission of inquiry with power to dispatch any alleged offenders to England for trial.

    In early October, Hutchinson received the unsettling news that his principal patron, Lord Hillsborough, would resign the office of secretary of state for the colonies. Hillsborough had opposed plans for a new colony in the Ohio River Valley and indignantly threatened to leave office when the Privy Council approved the scheme. As early as 1769, Hillsborough had recommended Hutchinson to succeed Sir Francis Bernard and stuck by the choice even when, shortly after the Boston Massacre, Hutchinson himself had second thoughts about the governor’s job. The two men had generally seen eye to eye on colonial matters, with the significant exception that Hutchinson failed to endorse at a critical moment in 1770 plans Hillsborough and Bernard had devised for radical alterations to the Massachusetts charter. Parliament’s attention to affairs in Massachusetts was eventually diverted by an international crisis in the Falkland Islands in the winter of 1770–1771 that threatened war with Spain, and the two men continued to cooperate amicably to strengthen royal government in the colony for another two years. Although patriots rejoiced at the fall of Lord Hillsborough, Hutchinson sent him a letter of humble thanks and sincere commendation for Hillsborough’s achievements in office. Hutchinson remained optimistic that Hillsborough’s successor, Lord Dartmouth, though regarded by many patriots as friendly to the colonies, would make no abrupt changes in policy.

    Despite several newspaper articles during the summer of 1772 that were sharply critical of Hutchinson, he believed that the issue of his royal salary had receded from public consciousness. Nevertheless, the issue revived with renewed intensity in late October when rumors arrived in Boston that the justices of the Superior Court would also be paid by the crown. Hutchinson, during his years as chief justice, had long believed the judges’ salaries were insufficient. The job required long absences from home and arduous travel to the meetings of various circuit courts throughout Massachusetts and Maine. He had proposed to Hillsborough a salary of £400 for the chief justice (his brother-in-law’s brother Peter Oliver) and at least £250 each for the four associate justices (one of whom was his brother Foster). When official confirmation of the salaries was announced, the amount allotted to each associate was £50 less than the minimum he had recommended.

    It was not, however, the amount of the salaries that caused popular wrath but the idea that judges, if they received their salary from the crown, were now an arm of the executive, removed from any check by the people and their representatives. A petition circulated urging the selectmen of Boston to call a town meeting. On 28 October, the town sent Hutchinson a formal message asking if the rumor were true. He replied saying he was not at liberty to reveal any communications from the ministry and that such an issue was inappropriate for consideration by a town meeting, which should be limited to the selection of officers and local affairs. Not satisfied, the town meeting wrote back petitioning him to call the General Court into session to consider the matter. When Hutchinson refused, the town appointed a twenty-one-person committee to communicate its sentiments on the judges’ salaries to the other towns in the province.

    This newly formed Boston Committee of Correspondence drafted a pamphlet entitled The Votes and Proceedings of the Freeholders and Other Inhabitants of the Town of Boston. The pamphlet challenged the authority of Parliament to legislate for the colonies “in all cases whatsoever” (the words of the Declaratory Act), since it lacked the crucial element of consent from the people of Massachusetts. Its list of “infringements” included complaints against the commissioners of customs, the vice-admiralty courts, royal instructions to the governor, the judges’ salaries, plans for an American episcopacy, and the insecurity of land titles; all these measures, the committee charged, were intended as a “constant, unremitted, uniform Aim to inslave us.”5 The pamphlet made a subtle, though indirect, appeal to the other towns to join in active political discussion during the crisis.6 Before the year’s end, Plymouth, Roxbury, Cambridge, Marblehead, Charlestown, Newburyport, and others, amounting to nearly a third of the towns in the province, all adopted similar statements or established their own committees of correspondence.

    Hutchinson worried that if he did nothing to check the intellectual challenge posed by The Votes and Proceedings, Boston’s position would spread throughout Massachusetts and prompt more towns to adopt instructions to their representatives to draft similar statements of principles and urge the legislature to begin an intercolonial correspondence circulating their grievances with the royal administration. The time had come, he believed, for him to draft a full explication of the British constitution and the colonies’ place within it. He was confident that Whig arguments, which he believed illogical and poorly grounded in fact, would not be able to withstand such a challenge. Therefore, he summoned the General Court back into session on 6 January 1773, sooner than he otherwise would have done, and delivered in his opening message a bold assertion of parliamentary supremacy, which concluded with the words, “I know of no line that can be drawn between the supreme authority of Parliament and the total independence of the colonies.” His opponents were, at least temporarily, stunned by the audacious way in which the governor has chosen to draw the battle-lines.7

    By the end of the month, however, both the Council and House had crafted their own responses to Hutchinson. The Council maintained that supreme authority rested only with God and that neither king nor Parliament could take away a subject’s natural rights. The response of the House, written by Samuel Adams and Joseph Hawley, with considerable assistance from John Adams, moved in another direction. The colonies were established by charters, or contracts, made exclusively between the king and the initial settlers. Therefore, Parliament had no jurisdiction over them. The people of the colonies gave their consent to laws not through virtual representation in Parliament but through their own assemblies.

    Unwilling to drop the argument, the governor drafted a rebuttal, which he delivered on 16 February. Hutchinson more or less ignored the response of the Council, written by James Bowdoin, whom he regarded as an intellectual lightweight, in order to focus his attack on the House’s shocking denial of parliamentary supremacy. He did so by disputing the historical precedents on which John Adams had based his case. As might have been predicted, Hutchinson’s rebuttal failed to win over the opposition. Both Council and House responded with their own counterarguments on 25 February and 2 March, respectively. Such intransigence, as Hutchinson perceived it, prompted him to make one final statement before proroguing the General Court on 6 March.

    “The debate,” as historian Bernard Bailyn observed, “exhausted the knowledge, ingenuity, and patience of all involved.”8 Hutchinson accomplished little except to reignite an ideological argument that his superiors in Great Britain hoped was dying down. Even Hutchinson himself had acknowledged in his earlier correspondence that the best hope for a rapprochement with England lay in Parliament ceasing to exert its authority over the colonies without giving up the principle of its supremacy. Why then would he choose this moment to address the issue in such unequivocal terms? Although John Adams’s envy and dislike of Hutchinson would seem to disqualify him from any particular sensitivity about the governor’s private thoughts, he was not far from the mark when he wrote to William Tudor in 1817 that “Governor Hutchinson in the plentitude of his vanity and self-sufficiency thought he could convince all America and all Europe that the Parliament of Great Britain had authority, supreme, sovereign, absolute, and uncontrollable over the Colonies in all case whatsoever.”9 Hutchinson was confident that logic alone could carry the day and reverse the revolutionary tide, especially if the ideas were laid as clearly and succinctly as he believed only he could do. It was a bit of arrogance, for which, as Adams noted in his diary at the time, “He will not be thanked. . . . His Ruin and Destruction must spring out of it, either from the Ministry and Parliament on one Hand, or from his Countrymen, on the other.”10

    Adams correctly predicted the ministry’s reactions to the great debate with the General Court. After reading only Hutchinson’s opening speech, Lord Dartmouth wrote him on 3 March wondering whether it was “expedient” to air such delicate constitutional issues so fully. Dartmouth, after all, had begun his job of secretary of state hoping to find ways to reconcile the colonies and Parliament after the departure of the testy Lord Hillsborough. On 10 April, after reading still more of the debate, Lord Dartmouth again recommended avoiding “those Questions, the Agitating of which has already produced such disagreeable Consequences.”11 When he received Dartmouth’s letter in early June, Hutchinson, who had never heard anything but praise from his superiors before, was so chagrined that he briefly considered resigning.

    Just prior to being prorogued on 6 March, the House of Representatives drafted a petition to the king protesting the independent salaries of the judges and transmitted it to Benjamin Franklin, their agent, for presentation to Lord Dartmouth. The representatives complained that since the judges served at the king’s pleasure, the administration of justice in Massachusetts would no longer be impartial.12 Later that same month, the town of Boston passed its own series of resolutions objecting to the way Hutchinson characterized the town in his controversy with the General Court. Although he was offended by the “effrontery” of the town’s resolutions, his real objection concerned his belief that the town meeting exceeded its constitutional authority when it meddled in colony-wide or imperial issues. Town meetings existed only for the election of town officers and the regulation of town affairs, he believed, thereby ignoring the long-standing practice of many towns to instruct their representatives on upcoming issues before the General Court.13

    Hutchinson’s one success during the first half of 1773 was bringing to a final resolution the province’s long-time dispute over its boundary with New York. Although New York’s Governor William Tryon had proposed settling the issue almost two years earlier, the legislatures of the two colonies operated on quite different schedules, and technical details about the commissioners’ powers delayed further discussion until the fall of 1772. New York, perhaps as a bargaining tool, announced an extreme claim that extended to all the land west of the Connecticut River and at the same time began granting land in New Hampshire west of the Merrimack River and north of the Massachusetts border. Residents of western Massachusetts were further alarmed by the arrest, trial, and execution in Albany of several Berkshire County counterfeiters for printing New York currency. Hutchinson was reluctant to let the incident derail negotiations, and representatives of the two colonies met in Hartford on 12 May 1773. The talks nearly fell apart when Joseph Hawley, part of the Massachusetts delegation, insisted on Massachusetts maintaining its largely theoretical claim to land west of the Great Lakes, but the idea lapsed when Hutchinson persuaded the other two Massachusetts representatives, John Hancock and William Brattle, that it was “a mere ideal visionary project.” The final agreement placed the border close to where it was always assumed to have been: approximately twenty miles east of the Hudson River. Hutchinson regarded the settlement as a triumph but received little credit for his role when the commissioners returned to Massachusetts.14

    No sooner had the border issue been resolved than on the morning of 2 June, Samuel Adams revealed to the House that he was in possession of a set of letters “of an extraordinary Nature [which] had been written and sent to England greatly to the prejudice of the Province.” The letters, he said, had been provided to him under the condition that they not be copied or printed but that he would read them to the House, if they would accept hearing them under those conditions.15 The gallery was cleared and the letters read.

    The parcel of letters, nearly all addressed to the same unnamed person (who was later revealed to be Thomas Whately, George Grenville’s private secretary), contained six from Hutchinson, four from Andrew Oliver, one from Charles Paxton, one from Nathaniel Rogers, five from George Rome, and four from Thomas Moffatt (the last two authors were inhabitants of Rhode Island, not Massachusetts). There was one additional letter from Vice-Admiralty Court Judge Robert Auchmuty to Hutchinson. Hutchinson would long maintain that the letters contained nothing about the relationship of the colonies to England which he had not already said publicly, but Adams and others believed they revealed a conspiracy among the servants of the crown to suppress American liberty. Franklin dispatched the letters to Boston on 2 December 1772, and a select group of patriot leaders had seen them as early as 22 March 1773.16 Yet Samuel Adams and others chose to wait for the opening of the newly elected General Court to reveal their contents.

    In a message to the House sent 3 June, Hutchinson denied ever having written any letters with an intention to subvert the constitution. He demanded a copy of the proceedings of the House, asking for the dates of the letters and proof they were genuine. Once Hutchinson ascertained from his letterbook which letters Adams had in his possession, he sent another message, asserting the letters were private, they were written long before he was governor, and they contained “nothing more respecting the Constitution of the Colonies in general than what is contained in my Speeches to the Assembly, and what I have published in a more extensive manner to the World,” meaning in his History of the Province of Massachusetts Bay.17 The House clearly disagreed. On 16 June, the House asserted that the letters were written with the intention “to interrupt and alienate the affection of our Most Gracious Sovereign King” and had so misrepresented the state of affairs in Massachusetts as to induce the ministry to dispatch troops to Boston. Therefore, the House resolved to petition the king for the removal of the principal letter writers—the governor and lieutenant governor.18

    While the legislature was drafting its remonstrance to the king, extravagant rumors circulated about the content of the letters Hutchinson and Oliver had written. Did the letters advise executions for treason, or at the very least dispatching leaders of the patriot opposition to England for trial?19 Did they advocate sending troops to Boston to suppress rebellious factions? Within a week, popular pressure for the publication of the letters became so intense that a way had to be found to break through the conditions under which Franklin had dispatched them. John Hancock claimed that he was handed, as he was passing through Boston Common, copies of the letters Adams had read before the House. Once they were compared with the originals, if they proved to be exact copies, surely there could be no dishonor involved in printing the copies?20 Samuel Adams later claimed the purpose of making the Whately letters public was simply to render the governor and lieutenant governor so unpopular that the king would be forced to remove them, and perhaps enough damage was done to the two men’s reputations to justify the gambit.21 But once the letters actually appeared in print, the tide began to turn in the governor’s favor, or at least Hutchinson believed it did. His supporters, especially outside Boston, could now see that the charges made against him in the General Court’s remonstrance were not borne out by what he had actually written.

    The question of how the original Whately letters came into Adams’s possession obsessed Hutchinson. Initially, he suspected William Story, a disappointed job seeker who, after returning from England, threatened Hutchinson with revealing material from letters he would not want published. But gradually Hutchinson learned that the letters were already in Boston before Story’s return.22 The next suspect was John Temple, who certainly had ample reason to dislike Hutchinson, Sir Francis Bernard, and the rest of the American Board of Customs. It was Temple who initially introduced Hutchinson to Whately, and Whately ceased to respond to Hutchinson’s letters after Temple arrived in England in 1770. Hutchinson also learned that Temple had visited Whately’s brother William shortly after Thomas Whately’s death and asked to see his own letters. It would have been a simple matter to remove Hutchinson’s and Oliver’s letters at the same time Temple searched for his own. Temple’s close family relationship with James Bowdoin and other leading patriot members of the Council provided a further motive for the suspected malefactor’s conduct. Temple long remained the leading suspect in Hutchinson’s mind.23

    Even if Hutchinson felt sure that Temple had procured the letters, there was the additional puzzle of who might have transmitted them to Boston. Hutchinson admired Benjamin Franklin as a man of great learning, even if he understood Franklin to be ruthlessly ambitious and without, in Hutchinson’s mind, any consistent political principles. Initially, Hutchinson was reluctant to believe that someone of Franklin’s stature could stoop to stealing letters “from the cabinets of the dead,” but by the end of the summer he had settled on Franklin as the guilty party.24

    As the furor over the letters began to recede in the early fall, Hutchinson once again turned his attention to other matters. Among the issues Lord Hillsborough left behind for his successor, Lord Dartmouth, was concern over lumbering in areas of far eastern Maine that had been set aside for mast trees for the Royal Navy. New towns in the area needed royal approval, but that did little to deter increasingly rapid settlement in the region, and once the giant trees were cut down and sawn into boards there was little way to identify who was responsible. Hutchinson at various times had proposed trading away Sagadahoc for other areas closer to Massachusetts settlements in the Connecticut River Valley, but Dartmouth had reservations as to whether the Massachusetts claim to its borderlands with Nova Scotia was legitimate, and Hutchinson devoted considerable effort trying to demonstrate that it was.25 The new secretary of state also wanted answers to numerous queries he had sent to all colonial governors concerning the geographical limits and agricultural produce of their provinces.26 Furthermore, Hutchinson continued to worry about his youngest son, William, who, having finished his year of study in Edinburgh, was now in London, where he seemed to be wasting time and spending money with few prospects of future employment.

    In September 1773, Hutchinson was concerned that the call from the Virginia House of Burgesses the preceding spring for other colonies to establish their own committees of correspondence would eventually lead to another continental Congress, like the Stamp Act Congress in 1765. If such a congress followed the lead of the Massachusetts General Court with its extreme claims of independence from parliamentary authority, Hutchinson worried the two sides of the imperial debate would be impossible to bridge.27 Although he had been aware since spring of Parliament’s desire to assist the faltering East India Company, Hutchinson had little knowledge until late fall of the provisions of the Tea Act and tended to discount the impact the legislation would have. After all, it would reduce the cost of legally imported tea sold in America to par with the smuggled Dutch commodity.28

    The most radical cries for action against the Tea Act originated in Philadelphia, not Boston. Written by Thomas Mifflin, a popular broadside appeared in Philadelphia on 9 October 1773, suggesting the best way to oppose the Tea Act was to force the resignation (as was done with the stamp distributors in 1765) of all those merchants to whom East India Company tea was consigned. The essay was reprinted in Boston on 25 October and resonated with members of the North End Caucus, who began to consider how to take a stand against the new legislation.29 At 2 o’clock on the morning of 2 November, anonymous messages arrived at the homes of the consignees summoning them to appear at the Liberty Tree a day later. When none of the consignees showed up, William Molineux led a delegation to Richard Clarke’s warehouse. When Molineux and his committee were peremptorily dismissed, a small gathering tried to force their way into Clarke’s upstairs counting room. A town meeting assembled on 5 November and once again called on the consignees to resign. The consignees sent word that it was impossible for them to resign since they did not yet know the exact terms of their arrangement with the East India Company, a response the town meeting declared “daringly affrontive.”30

    Hutchinson hoped that the East India Company tea would arrive first at any other port beside Boston. He pinned his hopes in particular on William Tryon, governor of New York. Tryon seemed to Hutchinson a firm-minded upholder of crown policy and well supported by a loyal council. Furthermore, two batallions of British regulars were stationed there to whom the local population was well accustomed—very different circumstances than Boston. Although Hutchinson received word at just about this time for permission to go to England (something he had requested when the General Court petitioned for his removal), he believed it would be irresponsible to leave the province at such a critical moment.

    On 17 November, a ship from London arrived carrying Jonathan Clarke, a junior member of Richard Clarke & Sons, together with details of the agreement between the East India Company and the Boston consignees. An angry crowd assembled outside Richard Clarke’s house that night, where a family party assembled to welcome home their returning son. When the crowd grew violent, one of Clarke’s sons discharged a pistol from the second floor of the house, causing the gathering to withdraw temporarily before attacking with renewed fury. The town meeting assembled the next day, once again to demand the consignees resign, and were told that bonds given on the consignees’ behalf in England made it impossible for them to comply. That the meeting then dissolved without comment frightened the consignees; they petitioned the governor and Council to take the tea into safe-keeping until the East India Company could be informed of the depth of popular opposition to the plan.31

    The consignees’ petition posed a dilemma for the Council, which was reluctant to do anything to thwart the popular will. It adjourned twice before finally refusing to act on 29 November. The day before, the first of the tea ships, the Dartmouth, arrived. Once the ship tied up at Griffin’s Wharf, it set in motion an inexorable timetable: the cargo had to be declared at the Customs House within forty-eight hours of arrival and unloaded and the duties paid within twenty days of the declaration, otherwise the ship and all its contents would be liable to confiscation.32 Instead of the town meeting, a different group, the Body of the Trade, assembled to deliberate on 29 November. The Body was considerably larger than the town meeting, swollen by nonvoters and many from outlying towns, since no effort was made to examine the credentials of those attending. The gathering demanded that the tea be returned. The consignees demurred: the ship could not pass Castle William without a clearance from the Customs House, and no clearance could be issued without the duties being paid. On the following day, the Body of the Trade rejected a proposal by the consignees that the tea not be sold but kept under the government’s protection, and the consignees subsequently took refuge in Castle William.33

    With the consignees beyond reach, pressure centered on James Hall, the captain of the Dartmouth, and Francis Rotch, the local representative of the vessel’s owners, who initially promised the ship would leave the harbor well before the twenty-day deadline. Two weeks later, the Body summoned Rotch and Hall to demand why the ship was still tied up at the dock with only two days left to go. The group dispatched Rotch and Hall, accompanied by a watchful committee, to demand a clearance from the both the Customs House and the Naval Office. Final refusal came the following day, and on 16 November Rotch was sent to Hutchinson, at his country house in Milton, to plead for a pass that would enable the Dartmouth to leave the harbor. No one seriously expected the legalistically minded Hutchinson to comply, and when Rotch returned after dark to report on the failure of his mission to the gathering at Old South Meeting House, Samuel Adams solemnly declared, “This meeting can do nothing more to save the country.” A war whoop was heard outside the windows, and many followed a party disguised as Indians down to Griffin’s Wharf, where 340 chests of tea were swiftly broken open and cast into the harbor.34

    Hutchinson was clearly stunned by the destruction of the tea. In the aftermath of the Tea Party, he repeatedly summoned the Council to meet but was unable to obtain a quorum until 21 December. Moreover, the Council would only order the attorney general to investigate and lay the results before the grand jury, which refused to make any indictments, even though some of principal actors in the events were widely suspected to be well known. There was little he could do but await developments in the other ports to which tea had been sent.

    A fourth tea ship had gone aground off Cape Cod on 11 December. Most of the salvaged cargo was brought to Castle William early in January, awaiting further direction from the East India Company. The Philadelphians, once they heard what had happened in Boston, intercepted their tea ship several miles downstream from the port and forced it to turn back. For much of the fall of 1773, Hutchinson pinned his hopes on New York, where he was confident Governor William Tryon would take a strong hand. But even Tryon, when he heard reports of the Boston Tea Party, backed away from his resolution to land the tea at the army’s barracks in New York. Fortunately for Tryon, he himself would never have to confront the issue since the ship destined for New York was blown off course and spent the winter in the West Indies. By the time the vessel finally arrived off Sandy Hook on 19 April 1774, Tryon had left the province, and the ship was obliged to return to England without ever unloading its cargo.35 Hutchinson was blamed both by fellow Bostonians and by many in England for forcing a crisis by not allowing the tea to be reshipped, and his letters to both Lord Dartmouth and the directors of the East India Company took on a self-exculpatory tone.

    While Hutchinson was preoccupied with Boston’s response to the Tea Act, an important part of the controversy surrounding his letters was being played out thousands of miles away in London. Throughout the fall of 1773, William Whately and John Temple had been exchanging angry messages in the pages of the London Public Advertiser, culminating in a duel on 11 December in which Whatley was wounded. The seriousness of the quarrel prompted Benjamin Franklin to make his own public declaration on 25 December that neither man had given him the letters and that he alone had dispatched them to Boston. But Franklin’s admission did not bring an end to the controversy. Who had given them to Franklin? Whately filed a chancery suit against Franklin on 7 January 1774, designed to force him to disclose how he came by the letters. Whately also caused his account of the duel, together with several eyewitness statements, to be printed in the London Chronicle for 8 January. His clear implication was that Temple took unfair advantage of Whatlely’s lack of skill as a swordsman.36

    How the letters came into Franklin’s hands is still a matter of speculation nearly two and half centuries later, though the leading explanation seems to be that Thomas Pownall provided Franklin with the letters, which Pownall had obtained from the files of either the Board of Trade or the secretary of state’s office through his privileged access as a member of the House of Commons.37 This conjecture is consistent with a 25 November 1773 claim in the London Public Advertiser by “A Member of Parliament” that the anonymous author, not Temple, gave the letters to Franklin. Temple called unexpectedly on Hutchinson on 8 August 1774, and the latter was evidently sufficiently convinced of Temple’s innocence that the two became reconciled. If the villain was not Temple, the next most likely suspect was Pownall. Hutchinson dined at Pownall’s just a few weeks before he met with Temple, but relations between the two former Massachusetts governors remained bitter. Hutchinson, however, never accused Pownall in either his diary or letters as Franklin’s chief co-conspirator.38

    Preliminary hearings on the General Court’s petition to remove Hutchinson and Oliver were scheduled for 11 January, but when Israel Mauduit appeared for Hutchinson, together with solicitor general Alexander Wedderburn, Franklin requested a delay so that he could secure his own counsel. The General Court’s petition was never likely to succeed before the Privy Council, but the arrival of the news on 20 January of the Boston Tea Party only increased resentment against Massachusetts. Thus, on 29 January, the date of the rescheduled hearing, crowds packed the former royal theater in Whitehall known as the Cockpit to enjoy what was bound to be a memorable exchange. Franklin had retained John Dunning, the former solicitor general who had resigned from the Duke of Grafton’s administration, who focused narrowly on the question of expediency, arguing that if Hutchinson and Oliver had lost the confidence of the people, they should be removed. Wedderburn ignored Dunning’s argument and chose to spend over an hour berating Franklin for his role in obtaining and publishing the private letters of the two officials. Wedderburn’s sarcasm was designed to play to the audience, leaving Franklin completely humiliated. By the end of the afternoon, the official report seemed a foregone conclusion, and Franklin and Temple soon both lost their government jobs (Franklin as deputy postmaster general for America and Temple as surveyor general of customs for England).39 Hutchinson himself, however, would not hear of his exoneration by the Privy Council until three and half months later, shortly before leaving the province for good.

    Meanwhile, in Massachusetts, the governor needed to prepare for the reconvening of the General Court on 26 January. Hutchinson had already decided not to include any references to the destruction of the tea in his opening message, but he could not avoid communicating an order from the king that no committees of the General Court could sit during its recess; such a rule would deliberately undercut the operation of the province’s recently appointed committee of correspondence. The night before the House returned to session another tarring and feathering took place in Boston. The victim, John Malcolm, a choleric customs comptroller from Falmouth, had already suffered the painful procedure once before, but the crowds chose to punish him again for caning a tradesman earlier that afternoon who had defended a young boy in the street who had somehow offended Malcolm.40

    Any attempts to mollify the General Court did not last long. The House stoutly defended what it understood to be the constitutionality of the committee of correspondence and within a week returned to the vexed issue of royal salaries for judges of the Superior Court. This time the House demanded an explicit statement from each justice whether he would refuse a crown salary and only accept payment from the General Court. Although the payments from the province had been irregular in the past, the salary the General Court offered each associate justice was actually £50 greater than what the crown would pay. For the chief justice, the crown salary was £100 greater.41 Led by Edmund Trowbridge, one by one the associate justices acceded to the demand of the General Court. Only Chief Justice Peter Oliver held out, and his bold answer to the House’s demand made no concessions to the sensitivities of the moment. Calls for his impeachment soon followed.

    Hutchinson’s effort to block the impeachment of his friend and relation was his last major confrontation with the General Court. Initially, the House called for the Council to remove Chief Justice Oliver, but the Council could not meet unless the governor summoned it, which Hutchinson had no intention of doing. Next, the House asserted that its powers were analogous to those of the House of Commons: it could impeach officials, and the Council (like the House of Lords) would be obliged to act as a court to deliberate on the charges. Hutchinson then told both House and Council that the charter did not grant them any such powers. Indignant at this affront, the House immediately voted charges of impeachment and presented them to the Council (without the governor present). When someone objected to this procedure, Samuel Adams brusquely stated that the governor was assumed to be present whenever the Council was sitting. Hutchinson waited as long as he could before proroguing the General Court on 9 March to prevent further action but not before both House and Council produced angry statements that Hutchinson thought particularly offensive to the office of the governor and the royal prerogative.42

    Hutchinson had requested permission in late June 1773 to come to London to defend himself in person against the General Court’s petition to remove him. Dartmouth dispatched news of permission on 17 August but the letter did not arrive until 14 November, by which time news of the Tea Act had so disturbed affairs in Boston that Hutchinson believed it would not be responsible for him to go at that time. By mid-winter, the voyage would be uncomfortable and dangerous, but what finally put the idea out of question was the death of Lieutenant Governor Andrew Oliver on 3 March 1774. Without a lieutenant governor in place, supreme authority in the province would devolve on the Council, which given its political disposition at the time, was an unacceptable alternative. Hutchinson began to consider possible successors to Oliver as lieutenant governor but was curiously indecisive in settling on a choice.

    Without the support of Andrew Oliver and with Peter Oliver effectively sidelined by popular opposition whenever he presided as chief justice, there was little Hutchinson could do except wait for news from England. Dartmouth first wrote to Hutchinson on 5 February that it was likely the petition for his removal would be dismissed, but another month passed before Dartmouth could officially confirm his exoneration by the Privy Council. A second confidential letter written the same day, 9 March, outlined the ministry’s plans to close the port of Boston until the East India Company was reimbursed for the tea Bostonians had dumped into the harbor. Lord North introduced the Boston Port Bill to the Commons on 14 March, and it received the royal assent on 31 March.

    After the arrival of news from London during the first week of April aboard the early spring ships, events tumbled forward quickly. Resentment of Franklin’s rough treatment before the Privy Council tended to overshadow popular disappointment that Hutchinson had not been removed as the General Court had requested. Fearing that Hutchinson might have already left the province according to the leave granted him the previous summer, Lord Dartmouth arranged for the quick appointment of General Thomas Gage on 2 April as the new governor of Massachusetts Bay. In his letter conveying the news to Hutchinson, Dartmouth assured him that Gage’s appointment was temporary and that he might resume the governorship if he chose after his trip to England. News of the Boston Port Act appeared in the town’s newspapers on 12 May, the day before General Gage’s arrival. In the agitated days that followed, Hutchinson’s friends advised him he would be safer at Castle William while making ready for his own departure. He received grateful farewell addresses from 123 merchants, as well as from the Anglican clergy and a number of lawyers. On 1 June, the same day the Boston Port Act effectively closed the harbor to merchant shipping, Hutchinson, his daughter Peggy, and his son Elisha boarded the Minerva bound for London, where exactly a month later he would report to the king in person on conditions in Massachusetts.