The Sages and Heroes of the American Revolution

by L. Carroll Judson

He was a man of deep thought, general intelligence and strong mind. He had thoroughly investigated the laws of God, of nature and of man. He well understood that men are endowed by their Creator with certain inherent privileges—that they are born equal and of right are and should be free. He drank largely at the refreshing fountain of liberal principles and was among the first to expose the blind and cruel policy of the British ministers. He contributed largely in rousing his fellow sufferers to a sense of impending danger.

Although deeply interested in commercial business and more exposed to the wrath of kingly power than any individual in the province—he boldly placed himself at the head of the association prohibiting the importation of goods from Great Britain. The other provinces caught the patriotic fire from these examples and became prepared to act their part in the tragic scenes that resulted in the emancipation of the pilgrim fathers from monarchical domination.

As a mark of special attention to this uncompromising patriot, the first seizure that was made by the revenue officers under pretence of some trivial violation of the laws was one of his vessels. So great was the excitement produced by this impolitic transaction, that large numbers were speedily collected to rescue the property. It was placed under the guns of an armed ship ready to open a broadside upon any who should dare to reclaim the vessel. The populace rose like a thunder cloud—rushed to the onset—brought away the vessel—razed to the ground some of the buildings occupied by the custom house officers and committed to the flames the boat of the collector. For a time this fire was arrested by the strong arm of power but it was never extinguished—it was the fire of Liberty. It only required to be fanned by that ministerial oppression that ultimately blew it into curling flames.

To prevent the recurrence of a popular outbreak several regiments of British troops, with all their loathsome vices fresh upon them, were quartered upon the inhabitants. This was like pouring bituminous coal tar upon a lurid flame. The independent spirits of Boston were not to be awed into subjection. The consequences were tragical. On the evening of 5th of March 1770, a party of these soldiers fired upon and killed five and wounded others of the citizens who had collected to manifest their indignation against those they hated more than they feared. Had the town been placed in the terrific cradle of an earthquake and its foundations moved to the centre, the agitation could not have been greater. Had it been melting before the burning lava of a volcano the commotion could not have been increased. The tolling of bells—the groans of the dying and wounded—the shrieks of mothers, widows and orphans—the flight of soldiers—the rush of the inhabitants—the cry of revenge—popular fury rising into a tornado of vengeance—all combined to create a scene of consternation and horror at which imagination recoils, description quails, sympathy trembles, humanity bleeds. It is a commentary, eloquently strong, upon the gross impropriety of quartering soldiers upon citizens—of enforcing civil law by military force—of invading the sanctity of domestic peace and private enjoyment.

On the following day a meeting was called composed of the concentrated talent and virtue of Boston. Strong but discreet resolutions were passed. A committee was appointed to wait upon the governor to request him to remove the troops from the town, at the head of which were Samuel Adams and John Hancock. His excellency at first refused but finding that discretion was the better part of valor, at once ordered the soldiers to the castle. He also gave a pledge that the offenders should be arraigned and tried and thus restored transient tranquillity.

The solemn and imposing ceremony of interring those who were killed was then performed. Their bodies were deposited in the same grave. Tears of sorrow, sympathy, regret and indignation were mingled with the clods as they descended upon the butchered bodies of those victims of tyranny. For many years the sad event was commemorated with deep and mournful solemnity. A hymn was sung to their memory and the torch of Liberty re-illumed at their tomb.

At one of these celebrations during the progress of the Revolution John Hancock delivered the address. A few brief extracts will be read with interest.

"Security to the persons and property of the governed is so evidently the design of civil government that to attempt a logical demonstration of it would be like burning a taper at noonday to assist the sun in enlightening the world. It cannot be either virtuous or honorable to attempt to support institutions of which this is not the principal basis. Some boast of being friends to government. I also am a friend to government—to a righteous government, founded upon the principles of reason and justice—but I glory in avowing my eternal enmity to tyranny."

He then portrayed vividly the wrongs inflicted by the mother country and urged his fellow citizens to vindicate their injured rights. On speaking of the massacre his language shows the emotions of his heaving bosom—the feelings of his noble soul.

"I come reluctantly to the transactions of that dismal night, when, in quick succession we felt the extremes of grief, astonishment and rage—when Heaven, in anger, suffered hell to take the reins—when Satan, with his chosen band opened the sluices of New England's blood and sacrilegiously polluted her land, with the bodies of her guiltless sons. Let this sad tale be told without a tear—let not the heaving bosom cease to burn with a manly indignation at the relation of it through the long tracts of future time—let every parent tell the story to his listening children till the tears of pity glistens in their eyes or boiling passion shakes their tender frames."