Let such be told, sir, that these criminals, charged with murder, are not yet legally proved guilty, and therefore, however criminal, are entitled, by the laws of God and man, to all legal counsel and aid; that my duty as a man obliged me to undertake; that my duty as a lawyer strengthened the obligation.... This and much more might be told with great truth; and I dare affirm that you and this whole people will one day rejoice that I became an advocate for the aforesaid “criminals,” charged with the murder of our fellow-citizens.
I never harboured the expectation, nor any great desire, that all men should speak well of me. To enquire my duty, and to do it, is my aim.... When a plan of conduct is formed with an honest deliberation, neither murmuring, slander, nor reproaches move.... There are honest men in all sects,—I wish their approbation;—there are wicked bigots in all parties,—I abhor them.
I am, truly and affectionately, your son,
JOSIAH QUINCY, Jr. [Footnote: Memoir of Josiah Quincy, Jr. pp. 26, 27.]
Many of the most respected citizens asserted and believed that the soldiers had fired with premeditated malice, for the purpose of revenge; and popular indignation was so deep and strong that even the judges were inclined to shrink. As Hutchinson was acting governor at the time, the chief responsibility fell on Benjamin Lynde, the senior associate, who was by good fortune tolerably competent. He was the son of the elder Lynde, who, with the exception of Paul Dudley, was the only provincial chief justice worthy to be called a lawyer.
The juries were of course drawn from among those men who afterward fought at Lexington and Bunker Hill, and, like the presiding judge and the counsel, they sympathized with the Revolutionary cause. Yet the prisoners were patiently tried according to the law and the evidence; all that skill, learning, and courage could do for them was done, the court charged impartially, and the verdicts were, Not guilty.