Again, Congress could not impose duties upon imports, and the circumstances of the case prevented even the individual States from exercising this power. If imported goods were taxed by one, they were admitted free by another, which thus obtained a larger share of domestic and foreign trade, while the ports of its rival were deserted. Treaties with foreign powers could not be negotiated, as there was no power in the country to enforce the provisions made in them, the authority of Congress and that of the separate members of the confederacy just serving to paralyze each other. There was no common tribunal to which the States could appeal for the adjustment of their controversies with each other; and the ill compacted league was therefore liable to be broken by the first serious dispute which might grow out of many conflicting interests. It was obvious that this state of things could not long continue without bringing upon the country all the evils of anarchy and civil war.
The condition and temper of the people increased this hazard. The vast exertions they had made during the armed struggle had exhausted their energies, and, to a certain extent, had demoralized them. On the one hand, there was a general feeling of lassitude, an indisposition to make any further sacrifices or efforts, and on the other, a fierce impatience of any act or movement which should even seem to limit their recently acquired, universal freedom. The load of public and private debt was enormous. Of what use was it, that the people had successfully resisted English bayonets, if they were now to be called upon to respect implicitly the orders of the sheriff and the staff of the constable? To what purpose had they braved the wrath of the crown and the parliament, if creditors were still to distress them, and county courts sentence them to fine and imprisonment? Or why tax themselves millions of hard dollars, when they had just gone through a seven years war because they would not pay an impost of three pence a pound on tea? It is no cause for wonder that such questions were frequently asked, or even that the majority of the people were inclined to answer them in a way most consonant with their present feelings. It was a period of general anxiety and gloom—a true crisis in the history of free institutions, not only in this country, but throughout the world. It was now to be determined whether national independence was to prove a blessing or a curse;—whether the people, after throwing off all foreign restraint, would be wise and magnanimous enough to impose laws upon themselves, and to respect them when made, or whether they would follow that course of anarchy, license, and civil war which has subsequently rendered the history of the South American republics and of the ephemeral republican governments of the Old World a warning to mankind.
The matter was brought to a crisis in 1786, by the breaking out of a rebellion in Massachusetts, the object of the insurgents being to close by violence the courts of law, thus putting a stop to all legal measures for the collection of debts, and to compel the government to issue paper money, in order that all obligations might be discharged in a much depreciated currency. Job Shattuck and Daniel Shays, formerly a captain in the revolutionary army, were the leaders of the disaffected party, and it was at least doubtful whether they did not count a majority of the people among their followers. Job Shattuck, at the head of an armed force, took possession of the court-house at Worcester, and sent a written message to the judges, 'that it was the sense of the people that the courts should not sit.'
