his hands in his bosom, fell lifeless.
The rest fired
Chap. XLIII.} 1770.
slowly and in succession on the people, who were dispersing.
One aimed deliberately at a boy, who was running for safety.
then pushed at Palmes to stab him; on which the latter knocked his gun out of his hand, and levelling a blow at him hit Preston
Three persons were killed, among them Attucks
the mulatto; eight were wounded, two of them mortally.
Of all the eleven not more than one had had any share in the disturbance.
So infuriated were the soldiers, that, when the men returned to take up the dead, they prepared to fire again, but were checked by Preston
, while the Twenty-Ninth Regiment appeared under arms in King Street, as if bent on a further massacre.
‘This is our time,’2
cried soldiers of the Fourteenth; and dogs were never seen more greedy for their prey.3
The bells rung in all the churches; the town drums beat.
‘To arms, to arms,’ was the cry. And now was to be tested the true character of Boston
All its sons came forth, excited almost to madness; many were absolutely distracted by the sight of the dead bodies, and of the blood, which ran plentifully in the street, and was imprinted in all directions by the foot-tracks on the snow.
‘Our hearts,’ says Warren
, ‘beat to arms; almost resolved by one stroke to avenge the death of our slaughtered brethren.’4
But they stood self-possessed and irresistible, demanding justice according to the law. ‘Did you not know, ’