ded the meeting, in His
Majesty's name, to disperse. But the intrepid merchants, in a written
paper, in Hancock's handwriting, averred that law warranted their
proceeding; and so they calmly adhered to the action that patriotism
dictated. Hutchinson at length sent for the Moderator, William Phillips,
of fragrant Revolutionary renown and of educational fame, and stipulated
to deposit a sum of money to stand for the tea that had been sold, and
to return the balance of it to the store. The concession was accepted.
In explanation of his course, and with special reference to the action
of the Commissioners in this case, Hutchinson pleaded a want of power,
under the Constitution, to comply with their demand. "They did not
consider the Constitution," he remarked, "and that by the Charter I can
do nothing without the Council, the major part of whom are against me,
and the civil magistrates, many of whom made a part of the body which
was to be suppressed; so that there could not have been a worse occasion
[to call out the troops], and I think anything tragical would have set
the whole Province in a flame, and maybe spread farther."

Thus Hutchinson, as well as Franklin, dreaded the effect of a serious
collision between the citizens and the troops. At this time the feeling
was one of sullen acquiescence in their presence. "Molineaux," he says,
February 18, 1770, "to whom the Sons of Liberty have given the name of
Paoli, and some others, are restless; but there seems to be no
disposition to any general muster of the people again." And yet the
newspapers were now crowded with unusually exciting matter, and so
continued up to the first week in March: articles about the Liberty-Pole
in New York being cut down by the military and replaced in a triumphal
procession by the people; about McDougal's imprisonment for printing
free comments on the Assembly for voting supplies to the troops; the
famous address of "Junius" to the King, in which one count is his
alienation of a people who left their native land for freedom and found
it in a desert; the details of the shooting, by an informer, of
Christopher Snider, the son of a poor German, and of the imposing
funeral, which moved from the Liberty-Tree to the burial-place. The
importers now feared an assault on their houses; whereupon soldiers were
allowed as a guard to some, while others slept with loaded guns at their
bedsides. These things deserve to be borne in mind; for they show how
much