A few brass cannon and gun carriages had been deposited by the patriots at Salem, and about a month later Nat, by the merest chance, learned that Colonel Leslie and a detachment were to be sent to seize them. At Warren’s command the young mountaineer sped to Salem as fast as the hard-mouthed black would take him.
It was Sunday morning and the Puritan town was still and covered with snow. But within an hour the streets were alive with citizens, all ready to defend the guns. As the latter were upon the upper side of North Bridge, the draw was raised, and when the British arrived they could not cross the river. Several large gondolas lay upon the south bank. Colonel Leslie at once gave orders that his men cross in these; as the soldiers moved toward the boats Nat saw a youth, followed by several older persons, rush forward, push the craft into the water and proceed to scuttle them.
The redcoats waded into the stream and with their bayonets tried to stop this. The boy leader lifted an oar with which to defend himself and then, for the first time, Nat recognized him.
“Ben Cooper,” he cried in amazement.
A moment later the boats sank, and their occupants struck out for the north side, swimming lustily and uttering derisive cries.
Flushed and angry, Colonel Leslie stood at the open draw and shouted across at the townspeople:
“Lower the draw in the name of the king.”
The Rev. Mr. Bernard, a clergyman of Salem, stepped forward.
“Colonel,” said he, “I take you for a just and reasonable man, and one who would not wish to stain the Sabbath day with blood. This is a private way; you have no right to cross if the owners see fit to object. So go your way in peace.”
Leslie had been especially warned by Gage not to persist if there was danger of bloodshed; and now the news reached him that the minutemen from all the country round had been sent for, and indeed, that the company from Danvers had just arrived. But he was a determined officer, and as he had set out to cross the bridge he made up his mind to do so.