ing his renewed demand, adopted, nearly word for word, the three resolutions of Virginia on taxation, intercolonial correspondence, and trial by a jury of the vicinage. For the troops thus quartered in Boston against the will of the province, Bernard vainly demanded the appropriations which the billeting act required. "Be explicit and distinct,” said he, in a second message, "that there may be no mistake." After grave deliberation in a most unusually numerous house of one hundred and seven, they made answer: "As representatives, by the royal charter and the nature of our trust, we are only empowered to grant such aids as are reasonable, of which we are free and independent judges, at liberty to follow the dictates of our own understanding, without regard to the mandates of another. As we cannot, consistently with our honor or interest, and much less with the duty we owe our constituents, so we shall NEVER make provision for the purposes mentioned in your messages." "To his majesty," rejoined Bernard in his last words, "and, if he pleases, to his parliament, must be referred your invasion of the rights of the imperial sovereignty. By your own acts you will be judged." And he prorogued the general court. Newport, Rhode Island, witnessed bolder resistance. A vessel with a cargo of prohibited goods was rescued from the revenue officers, whose ship, named Liberty, was destroyed. Just as this was heard of at Boston, Hillsborough's circular, promising relief from all "real" grievances and a repeal of the duties on glass, paper, and colors, as contrary to the true principles of commerce, was made public by Bernard. The merchants, assembling on the twenty-seventh of July, unanimously voted this partial repeal insufficient, since the duty reserved on tea was to save "the right" of taxing, and they resolved to send for no more goods from Great Britain, a few specified articles excepted, unless the revenue acts should be repealed. The inhabitants were to purchase nothing from violators of this engagement; the names of recusant importers were to be published, and a committee was appointed to state the embarrassments to commerce, growing out of the late regulations. On the last evening of July, Bernard, having completed his pecuniary arrangements with Hutchinson, who was to be his successor, left Boston. "He was to have sent home whom he pleased," said the Bostonians; "but, the die being thrown, poor Sir Francis Bernard was the rogue to go first." Trained as a wrangling proctor in an ecclesiastical court, he had been as governor a quarrelsome disputant. His parsimony went to the extreme of meanness; his avarice was restless and insatiable. So long as he connived at smuggling, he reaped a harvest in that way; when Grenville's sternness inspired alarm, his greed was for forfeitures and penalties. Assuming to respect the charter, he was unwearied in zeal for its subversion; professing to the colony opposition to taxation by parliament, he most assiduously urged the measure on the ministry; asserting solemnly that he had never asked for troops, he persistently importuned for ships-of-war and an armed force. His reports were often false, partly with design, partly from the credulity of panic. He placed everything in the most unfavorable light, and was at all times ready to magnify trivial incidents into acts of treason. The officers of the army and the navy openly despised him for his cowardly duplicity. "He has essentially served us," said the clergyman Cooper; "had he been wise, our liberties might have been lost." As he departed, the bells were rung and cannon fired from the wharfs, Liberty Tree was gay with flags, and at night a great bonfire was kindled upon Fort Hill. When he reached. England, he found that the ministry had promised the London merchants never again to employ him in America. GROWTH CHAPTER XXVII. OF REPUBLICANISM IN LOUISIANA, KENTUCKY, AND MASSACHUSETTS. MAY 1769-JANUARY 1770. WHILE Boston was driven toward republicanism, the enthusiasm which had made the revolution at New Orleans could not shape for that colony a tranquil existence. A new petition to France expressed the resolve of the inhabitants to preserve the dear and inviolable name of French citizens, at the peril of their lives and fortunes. They applied to the English; but the governor at Pensacola abstained from offending powers with which his sovereign was at peace. The dread of Spain inspired the design of founding a republic, with an elective council of forty and a protector. When, near the end of July, O'Reilly arrived at the Balise with an overwhelming force, despair prevailed for a moment; and white cockades were distributed by the republicans. "O'Reilly is not come to ruin the colony," said Aubry, who had received instructions to feign ingenuous candor. "If you submit," he repeated publicly and by authority, "the general will treat you with kindness, and you may have full confidence in the clemency of his Catholic majesty." These promises won faith; and, with Aubry's concurrence, a committee of three, Lafrénière for the council, Marquis for the colonists, and Milhet for the merchants, waited on O'Reilly at the Balise, to recognise his authority and implore his mercy. O'Reilly welcomed the deputies with the fairest promises, detained them to dine, and dismissed them confident of a perfect amnesty. Villeré, who had escaped, returned to the city. On the morning of the eighth of August, the Spanish squadron of four-and-twenty vessels, bearing three thousand chosen troops, anchored in front of New Orleans; before the day was over, possession was taken in behalf of the Catholic king, and the Spanish flag was raised at every post. On the twentieth, Aubry made a full report of the events of the revolution, and named its chiefs in the enterprise. "It was not easy to arrest them," wrote O'Reilly; "but I contrived to cheat their vigilance." On the twenty-first, he received at his home the principal inhabitants; and he invited the people's syndics, one by one, to pass into his private apartment. Each one accepted the invitation as a special honor, till, finding themselves assembled and alone, they showed signs of anxiety. "For me," says O'Reilly, "I now had none for the success of my plan." Entering his cabinet with Aubry and three Spanish civil officers, he spoke to those who were thus caught in his toils: "Gentlemen, the Spanish nation is venerated throughout the globe. Louisiana is the only country in the universe where it fails to meet with the respect which is its due. His Catholic majesty is greatly provoked at the violence to his governor, and at the publications outraging his government and the Spanish nation. You are charged with being the chiefs of this revolt; I arrest you in his name." The accused were conducted with ostentation to separate places of confinement; Villeré, to the frigate that lay at the levee. It is the tradition that his wife vainly entreated admission to him; that Villeré, hearing her voice, demanded to see her; became frantic with love, anger, and grief, struggled with his guard, and fell dead from passion or from their bayonets. The official report sets forth that he did not survive the first day of bondage. The unexpected blow spread consternation. An amnesty for the people reserved the right of making further arrests. On the twenty-sixth and the following days, the inhabitants of New Orleans and its vicinity took the oath of allegiance to the Catholic king. Nearly two months passed in collecting evidence against the devoted victims. They denied the jurisdiction of the Spanish tribunal over actions done under the flag of France during the prevalence of French laws. But the estates of the twelve, who were the richest and most considerable men in the VOL. III.-23 province, were confiscated in whole or in part for the benefit of the officers employed in the trial; six were sentenced to imprisonment for six or ten years, or for life; the memory of Villeré was declared infamous; the remaining five, Lafrénière, his young son-in-law Noyau, Caresse, Marquis, and Joseph Milhet, were condemned to be hanged. The citizens of New Orleans entreated time for a petition to Charles III.; the wives, daughters, and sisters of those who had not shared in the revolution appealed to O'Reilly for mercy, but without effect. Tradition will have it that the young and gallant Noyau, newly married, might have escaped; but he refused to fly from his associates. On the twenty-fifth of October, the five martyrs to their love of France and liberty were brought forth pinioned, and, in presence of the troops and the people, were shot. "At length," said O'Reilly, "the insult done to the king's dignity and authority in this province is repaired. The example now given can never be effaced." Spaniards, as well as men of other nations, censured the sanguinary revenge. In the parishes of Louisiana, O'Reilly was received with silent submission. The king of Spain approved his acts. By the intervention of France, the six prisoners were set free. The census of the city of New Orleans showed a population of eighteen hundred and one white persons, thirty-one free blacks, sixty-eight free persons of mixed blood, sixty domiciliated Indians, and twelve hundred and twenty-five slaves: in all, three thousand one hundred and ninety souls. The population in the valley of the Mississippi, then subject to the Spanish sway, is estimated at thirteen thousand five hundred. The privileges granted by France were abolished, and the colony was organized like other possessions of Spain. But Spain willingly kept New Orleans depressed, that it might not attract the cupidity of England. The settlement of the wilderness was promoted by native pioneers. Jonathan Carver, of Connecticut, had in three former years explored the borders of Lake Superior, and the country of the Sioux beyond it; had obtained more accurate accounts of the Great River, which bore, as he reported, the name of Oregon and flowed into the Pacific; and he returned to cele |