American Affairs in Europe: Monday and Boston

The murder of Snyder produced a profound sensation in the public mind throughout the colonies, as a prophecy of coming war. In Boston his funeral was made the occasion of a solemn pageant. His coffin was covered with inscriptions. One of these was: "Innocence itself is not safe." It was borne to Liberty Tree, where a very large concourse of citizens of every class assembled, and followed the remains to the grave. In that procession nearly five hundred children took part. The pall was carried by six of the victim's school-mates. Relatives and friends and almost fifteen hundred citizens followed. The bells of the city and of the neighboring towns tolled while the procession was moving; and in the newspapers, and by the lips of grave speakers in the pulpit and on the rostrum, little Christopher Snyder was spoken of as the first martyr to the cause of liberty in America. Dalrymple and his vicious Twenty-ninth regiment were impatient in the presence of such a popular demonstration. He wanted to be set at murderous work among the Bostonians, whom he thoroughly hated, but was restrained by the civil magistrates.

This event was a forerunner of a more serious one a few days afterward. John Gray had an extensive rope-walk in Boston, where a number of patriotic men were employed. They often bandied coarse taunts with the soldiers as they passed by. On Friday, the 2d of March (1770), a soldier who applied for work at the rope-walk was rudely ordered away. He challenged the men to a boxing-match, when he was severely beaten. Full of wrath he hastened to the barracks, and soon returned with several companions, when they beat the rope-makers and chased them through the streets. The citizens naturally espoused the cause of the rope-makers, and many of them assembled in the afternoon with a determination to avenge the wrongs of the workmen. Mr. Gray and the military authorities interfered, and prevented any further disturbance then. But vengeance only slumbered. It was resolved, by some of the more excitable of the inhabitants, to renew the contest; and at the barracks the soldiers inflamed each other's passions, and prepared bludgeons. They warned their particular friends in the city not to be abroad on Monday night, for there would be serious trouble.

Fresh wet snow had fallen, and on Monday evening, the 5th of March, frost had covered the streets of Boston with a coat of ice. The moon was in its first quarter and shed a pale light over the town, when, at twilight, both citizens and soldiers began to assemble in the streets. By seven o'clock full seven hundred persons, armed with clubs and other weapons, were on King (now State) street, and, provoked by the insolence and brutality of the lawless soldiery, shouted: "Let us drive out these rascals! They have no business here--drive them out!" At the same time parties of soldiers (whom Dalrymple had doubtless released from the barracks for the purpose of provoking the people to commit some act of violence, and so give an excuse for letting loose the dogs of war) were going about the streets boasting of their valor, insulting citizens with coarse words, and striking many of them with sticks and sheathed swords. Meanwhile the populace in the street were increasing in numbers every moment, and at about nine o'clock in the evening, they attacked some soldiers in Dock Square, and shouted: "Town-born, turn out! Down with the bloody-backs!" They tore up the stalls of a market, and used the timber for bludgeons. The soldiers scattered and ran about the streets, knocking people down and raising the fearful cry of Fire! At the barracks on Brattle street, a subaltern at the gate cried out, as the populace gathered there, "Turn out! I will stand by you; knock them down? kill them! run your bayonets through them!" The soldiers rushed out, and, leveling their muskets, threatened to make a lane paved with dead men through the crowd. Just then an officer was crossing the street, when a barber's boy cried out: "There goes a mean fellow, who will not pay my master for shaving him." A sentinel standing near the corner of the Custom-house ran out and knocked the boy down with his musket.

The cry of fire and the riotous behavior of the soldiers caused an alarm-bell to be rung. The whole city was aroused. Many men came out with canes and clubs for self-defence, to learn the occasion of the uproar. Many of the more excitable citizens formed a mob. Some of the leading citizens present tried to persuade them to disperse, and had in a degree gained their respectful attention, when a tall man, covered with a long scarlet cloak and wearing a white wig, suddenly appeared among them, and began a violent harangue against the government officers and the troops. He concluded his inflammatory speech by boldly shouting: "To the main-guard! to the mainguard! There is the nest!" It is believed that the orator in the scarlet cloak was Samuel Adams.