King Street; and as they came near the Custom House, on the corner, one of the number, who knew of the assault on the apprentice-boy, said, "Here is the soldier who did it!" when they gathered round the sentinel. The barber's boy now came up, and said, "This is the soldier who knocked me down with the butt-end of his musket." Some now said, "Kill him! knock him down!" The sentinel moved back up the steps of the Custom House, and loaded his gun. Missiles were thrown at him; when he presented his musket, warned the party to keep off, and called for help. Some one ran to Captain Preston, the officer of the day, and informed him that the people were about to assault the sentinel; when he hastened to the main guard, on the opposite side of the street, about forty rods from the Custom House, and sent a sergeant, a very young officer, with a file of seven men, to protect the sentinel. They went over in a kind of trot, using rough words and actions towards those who went with them, and, coming near the party round the sentinel, rudely pushed them aside, pricking some with their bayonets, and formed in a half-circle near the sentry-box. The sentinel now came down the steps, and fell in with the file, when they were ordered to prime and load. Captain Preston almost immediately joined his men. The file now numbered nine.

The number of people here at this time is variously stated from thirty to a hundred; "between fifty and sixty" being the most common enumeration. Some of them were fresh from the affray at the barracks, and some of the soldiers had been in the affair at the ropewalk. There was aggravation on both sides.

The crowd were unarmed, or had but sticks, which they struck defiantly against each other; having no definite object, and doing no greater mischief than, in retaliation of uncalled-for military roughness, to throw snowballs, hurrah, whistle through their fingers, use oaths and foul language, call the soldiers names, hustle them, and dare them to fire. One of the file was struck with a stick. There were good men trying to prevent a riot, and some assured the soldiers that they would not be hurt. Among others, Henry Knox, subsequently the general, was present, who saw nothing to justify the use of fire-arms, and, with others, remonstrated against their employment; but Captain Preston, as he was talking with Knox, saw his men pressing the people with their bayonets, when, in great agitation, he rushed among them. Then, with or without orders, but certainly without any legal form or warning, seven of the file, one after another, discharged their muskets upon the citizens; and the result indicates the malignity and precision of their aim. Crispus Attucks, an intrepid mulatto, who was a leader in the affair at Murray's Barracks, was killed

1 I have constructed his narrative by a careful collation of the evidence that appears to be authentic; but it will be vain to attempt to reconcile all the statements in relation to this transaction. An illustration of the necessity of weighing the authorities is seen in the case of the affidavit of "Charlotte Bourgate," No. 58, in the report of the trial; who testified that guns were fired from the CustomHouse windows. In 1771, in the case of The King vs. Bourgate, a jury convicted him of perjury for false swearing in relation to this firing. "The court ordered, that the said Charles Bourgate be set in the pillory for the space of one hour; that he be whipped twenty-five stripes upon his naked back, at the public whipping-post; and that he pay costs of prosecution, standing committed until this sentence be performed." Hutchinson, in a letter dated July 27, 1770, says: "I do not believe Preston intended his men should fire. I do not know he is not to be justified in ordering his men to charge; but they are in general such bad fellows in that regiment, that it seems impossible to restrain them from firing upon an insult or provocation given them."

as he stood leaning with his breast resting on a stout cord-wood stick; Samuel Gray, one of the ropemakers, was shot as he stood with his hands in his bosom, and just as he had said, "My lads, they will not fire;" Patrick Carr left his house on hearing the alarm-bell, and was mortally wounded as he was crossing the street; James Caldwell, in like manner summoned from his home, was killed as he was standing in the middle of the street; Samuel Maverick, a lad of seventeen, ran out of the house at the alarm of fire, and was shot as he was crossing the street; six others were wounded. But fifteen or twenty minutes had elapsed from the time the sergeant went from the main guard to the time of the firing. The people, on the report of the guns, fell back, but instinctively and instantly returned for the killed and wounded; when the infuriated soldiers prepared to fire again, but, checked by Captain Preston, were withdrawn across the street to the main guard. The drums beat: several companies of the Twenty-Ninth Regiment, under Colonel Carr, promptly appeared, and were formed in three divisions before the main guard; the front division near the north-east corner of the Town House, in the kneeling posture for street firing. The Fourteenth Regiment was ordered under arms, but remained at their barracks.

The report now spread that "the troops had risen on the people;" and the beat of drums, the churchbells, and the cry of fire, summoned from their homes the inhabitants, who hastened to the place of alarm. In a few minutes, thousands collected; and the cry was, "To arms! to arms!" The whole town was in confusion; while, in King Street, there was now what

the patriots had so long predicted, dreaded, and endeavored to avert, — an indignant population and an exasperated soldiery face to face. The excitement was terrible. The care of the popular leaders for their cause, since the mob-days of the Stamp Act, had been like the care of their personal honor: it drew them forth as the prompt and brave controlling power in every crisis; and they were among the concourse on this "night of consternation." Warren, early on the ground to act the good physician as well as the fearless patriot, gives the impression produced on himself and his co-laborers as they saw the first blood flowing that was shed for American liberty. "The horrors," he says, "of that dreadful night are but too deeply impressed on our hearts. Language is too feeble to paint the emotions of our souls, when our streets were stained with the blood of our brethren, when our ears were wounded by the groans of the dying, and our eyes were tormented by the sight of the mangled bodies of the dead. . . . Our hearts beat To arms!' we snatched our weapons, almost resolved, by one decisive stroke, to avenge the death of our slaughtered brethren, and to secure from future danger all that we held most dear."1

Meantime, the lieutenant-governor, at his residence in North Square, heard the sound of the church-bell near by, and supposed it was an alarm of fire. But soon, at nearly ten o'clock, a number of the inhabitants came running into his house, entreating him to go to King Street immediately; "otherwise," they said, "the town would be all in blood." He immediately started for the scene of danger. On his way, in the

1 Oration, 1772.

Market Place (Dock Square), he found himself amidst a great body of people, some armed with clubs, others with cutlasses, and all calling for fire-arms. He made himself known to them, but pleaded in vain for a hearing; and, to insure his safety, he retreated into a dwelling-house, and thence went by a private way into King Street, where he found an excited multitude anxiously awaiting his arrival. He first called for Captain Preston; and a natural indignation at a highhanded act is expressed in the stern and searching questions which the civilian put to the soldier, bearing on the vital point of the subordination of the military to the civil power. "Are you the commanding officer?"-"Yes, sir."-"Do you know, sir, you have no power to fire on any body of people collected together, except you have a civil magistrate with you to give orders?" Captain Preston replied, "I was obliged to, to save the sentry." So great was the confusion, that Preston's reply was heard but by few. The cry was raised, "To the Town House! to the Town House!" when Hutchinson, by the irresistible violence of the crowd, was forced into the building, and up to the council chamber; and, in a few minutes, he appeared on the balcony. Near him were prominent citizens, both Tories and Whigs; below him, on the one side, were his indignant townsmen, who had conferred on him every honor in their power; and, on the other side, the soldiers in defiant attitude. He could speak with eloquence and power: throughout this strange and trying scene, he bore himself with dignity and self-possession; and as in the stillness of night he expressed great concern at the unhappy event, and made solemn pledges to the people, his tone must