While the non-importation agreements were generally adhered to faithfully, there were a few merchants who, loving mammon more than liberty, violated their obligations. In Boston they coalesced with the military officers, and many of the proscribed articles were imported in the names of the latter, ostensibly for the use of the soldiers. Many goods were January 23, 1770 brought in and sold under this cover. This fact became known, and a meeting of citizens was held at Faneuil Hall to consider it. Spirited resolutions were adopted, among which was one agreeing not only "totally to abstain from the use of tea" (the excepted article mentioned in Hillsborough's letter), and from other of the enumerated articles, but that they would use all proper measures to prevent a violation of the non-importation pledges. From that time tea was a proscribed article, and the living principle of opposition to British oppression was strongly manifested by the unanimity with which the pleasant beverage was discarded.

Early in February the females of Boston made a public movement on the subject of non-importation, and the mistresses of three hundred families subscribed their names to a league, binding themselves not to drink any tea until the Revenue Act was repealed. Three days afterward the young ladies followed the example of the matrons, and multitudes signed a document in the following terms: "We, the daughters of those patriots who have, and do now, appear for the public interest, and in that principally regard their posterity—as such, do with pleasure engage with them in denying ourselves the drinking of foreign tea, in hopes to frustrate a plan which tends to deprive a whole community of all that is valuable in life." All classes were thoroughly imbued with patriotism, and even the children were sturdy asserters of natural rights. **

Disregarding these expressions of public sentiment, a few merchants in Boston continued to sell the proscribed articles. Among them were Theophilus Lillie and four others, who were particularly bold in their unpopular conduct. To designate his store as one to be February 22, 1770 shunned, a mob, consisting chiefly of half-grown boys, raised a rude wooden head upon a pole near Lillie's door, having upon it the names of the other importers. A hand was attached to it, with the dexter finger pointing to Lillie's establishment. The merchant was greatly irritated. One of his friends, named Richardson, a stout, rough man, tried to persuade a countryman to prostrate the pageant by running his wagon against it. February 9.

* Robinson, one of the commissioners, had made such representations of Mr. Otis in Britain as provoked him to make a publication in the Boston Gazette on the subject. For some expression used in that article Robinson attempted to pull Otis's nose at a coffee-house. An affray ensued, in which Mr. Otis was so severely beaten that he was obliged to leave the city and retire to his country residence. From the injuries then received he never thoroughly recovered. Heavy damages (£2000) were awarded him against Robinson for the assault, but Otis generously forgave his assailant, and refused to take the money.

** While the king's troops were in Boston, an incident occurred that evinced the bold spirit of even the little boys. In the winter they were in the habit of building little hills of snow, and sliding down them to the pond on the Common, for amusement. The English soldiers, to provoke them, would often beat down these hills. On one occasion, having rebuilt their hills, and finding, on their return from school, that they were again demolished, several of the boys determined to wait upon the captain and complain of his soldiers. The officer made light of it, and the soldiers became more troublesome than ever. At last a meeting of the larger boys was held, and a deputation was sent to General Gage, the commander-in-chief. He asked why so many children had called upon him. "We come, sir," said the tallest boy, "to demand satisfaction." "What!" said the general, "have your fathers been teaching you rebellion, and sent you to exhibit it here?" "Nobody sent us, sir," replied the boy, while his eyes flashed and cheek reddened at the imputation of rebellion; "we have never injured or insulted your troops, but they have trodden down our snow-hills and broken the ice on our skating-grounds. We complained, and they called us young rebels, and told us to help ourselves if we could. We told the captain of this, and he laughed at us. Yesterday our works were destroyed the third time, and we will bear it no longer." The nobler feelings of the general's heart were awakened, and, after gazing upon them in silent admiration for a moment, he turned to an officer by his side, and said, "The very children here draw in a love of liberty with the air they breathe. You may go, my brave boys, and be assured, if my troops trouble you again, they shall be punished."—Lossing's "1776," p. 90.

Fracas at the Door of a Merchant.—Death of a Boy.—Its Effect on the Public Mind.—Pardon of the Murderer.—Riot in Boston

The man was a patriot, and refused, and Richardson attempted to pull it down himself. The mob pelted him with dirt and stones, and drove him into Lillie's house. Greatly exasperated, Richardson brought out a musket and discharged it, without aim, into the crowd. A lad named Christopher Gore (afterward Governor of the Commonwealth (a)) was slightly wounded, and another, Christopher Snyder, son of a poor widow, was killed. The a 1809 mob seized Richardson and an associate named Wilmot, and carried them to Fanueil Hall, where they were examined and committed for trial. Richardson was found guilty of murder, but Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson refused to sign his death warrant. After two years' imprisonment, he was pardoned by the king.

The murder of the boy produced a great sensation throughout the country, and in Boston it was made the occasion of a most solemn pageant. His coffin, covered with inscriptions, such as "Innocence itself is not safe," and others of like tenor, was taken to Liberty Tree, where a great concourse assembled, and thence followed the remains to the grave. In that procession between four and five hundred school-boys took the lead. Six of Snyder's playfellows supported the coffin; after them came the relatives and friends of the deceased, and nearly fifteen hundred of the inhabitants. The bells of the city were tolled, and those of the churches in the neighboring towns. The newspapers were filled with accounts of the murder and the funeral, and little Christopher Snyder was apotheosized as the first martyr in the cause of American liberty.

A more serious occurrence took place a few days afterward. A soldier, passing the rope-walk of John Grey, got into a quarrel with the workmen, and was severely beaten. He went to the barracks, and, returning with some comrades, they beat the rope-makers, and chased them through the streets. A large number of the people assembled in the afternoon, determined to avenge the workmen, but were stopped by the military. It was Friday, and the act of vengeance was deferred until Monday, so as not to disturb the Sabbath. March 5, 1770 On the evening of Monday, between six and seven o'clock, about seven hundred men, with clubs and other weapons, assembled in King (now State) Street, shouting, "Let us drive out these rascals! They have no business here—drive them out!" The mob speedily augmented in numbers, and about nine o'clock an attack was made upon some soldiers in Dock Square, the mob shouting, "Town born, turn out! Down with the bloody backs!" at the same time tearing up the market-stalls. The fearful cry of "Fire, fire!" was echoed through the town, and the inhabitants poured into the streets in terror and confusion. The whole city was in commotion, and before midnight the shouts of the multitude, the ringing of the alarum bells as if a great conflagration was raging, and the rattle of musketry, produced a fearful uproar. Two or three leading citizens endeavored to persuade the mob to disperse, and had, in a measure, secured their respectful attention, when a tall man, dressed in a scarlet cloak, and wearing a white wig, suddenly appeared among them, and commenced a violent harangue against the government officers and soldiers. He concluded his inflammatory speech by a loud shout, "To the main guard! to the main guard!" The populace echoed the shout with fearful vehemence, and, separating into three divisions, took different routes toward the quarters of the main guard. As one of these divisions was passing the custom-house, a boy came up, and, pointing to the sentinel on duty there, cried out, "That's the scoundrel who knocked me down." * Instantly a score of voices shouted, "Let us knock him down! Down with the bloody back! kill him! kill him!" The sentinel loaded his musket, the mob in the mean while pelting him with pieces of ice and other missiles, and finally attempting to seize him. He ran up the custom-house steps, but, unable to procure admission, called to the main guard for assistance. Captain Preston, the officer of the day,

* This boy was an apprentice to a barber named Piémont, at whose shop some of the British officers were in the habit of shaving. One of them had come there some months previous to dress by the quarter, whose bill Piémont promised to allow to the boy who shaved him, if he behaved well. The quarter had expired, but the money could not be got, although frequently asked for. The last application was made on that evening, and, as the boy alleged, the officer knocked him down in reply to the "dun." The sentry he pointed out as the man that abused him.—See "Traits of the Tea Party."