errand. They were, therefore, a lawful assembly, if we only consider them as private subjects and fellow-citizens, without regard to Mutiny Acts, Articles of War, or soldiers' oaths. A private person, or any number of private persons, have a right to go to the assistance of their fellow-subject in distress or danger of his life, when assaulted and in danger from a few or a multitude.

[On the next day Mr. Adams continued.]

I yesterday afternoon produced from the best authorities those rules of law which must govern all cases of homicide, particularly that which is now before you. It now remains to consider the evidence, and see whether anything has occurred that may be compared to the rules read to you; and I will not trouble myself nor you with labored endeavors to be methodical. I shall endeavor to make some few observations on the testimonies of the witnesses, such as will place the facts in a true point of light, with as much brevity as possible; but I suppose it would take me four hours to read to you (if I did nothing else but read) the minutes of evidence that I have taken in this trial.

We have been entertained with a great variety of phrases, to avoid calling this sort of people a mob. Some call them shavers, some call them geniuses. The plain English is, gentlemen, most probably, a motley rabble of saucy boys, negroes and mulattoes, Irish Teagues, and outlandish jacktars. And why we should scruple to call such a set of people a mob I cannot conceive, unless the name is too respectable for them. The sun is not about to stand still or go out, nor the rivers to dry up, because there was a mob in Boston, on the 5th of March, that attacked a party of soldiers. Such things are not new in the world, nor in the British dominions, though they are comparatively rarities and novelties in this town. Carr, a native of Ireland, had often been concerned in such attacks; and indeed, from the nature of things, soldiers quartered in a populous town

will always occasion two mobs, where they prevent one. They are wretched conservators of the peace.

The next witness that knows anything was James Bailey.

He saw some around the sentry, heaving pieces of ice large and hard enough to hurt any man-as big as your fist. One question is, whether the sentinel was attacked or not. If you want evidence of an attack upon him there is enough of it. Here is a witness, an inhabitant of the town-surely no friend to the soldiers, for he was engaged against them at the rope-walk. He says he saw twenty or thirty around the sentry, pelting with cakes of ice as big as one's fist. Certainly, cakes of ice of this size may kill a man, if they happen to hit some part of the head. So that here was an attack upon the sentinel, the consequence of which he had reason to dread, and it was prudent in him to call for the main guard. He retreated as far as he could. He attempted to get into the Custom House, but could not. Then he called to the guard, and he had a good right to call for their assistance. "He did not know, he told the witness, what was the matter, but he was afraid there would be mischief by and by;" and well he might, with so many shavers and geniuses around him, capable of throwing such dangerous things. Bailey swears Montgomery fired the first gun, and that he stood at the right, "the next man to me; I stood behind him," etc. This witness certainly is not prejudiced in favor of the soldiers. He swears he saw a man come up to Montgomery with a club and knock him down before he fired, and that he not only fell himself but his gun flew out of his hand, and as soon as he rose he took it up and fired. If he was knocked down on his station, had he not reason to think his life in danger? Or did it not raise his passions and put him off his guard, so that it cannot be any more than manslaughter?

When the multitude was shouting and huzzaing and threatening life, the bells all ringing, the mob whistling, screaming, and rending like an Indian yell, the people from all quarters throwing every species of rubbish they

could pick up in the streets, and some who were quite on the other side of the street throwing clubs at the whole party, Montgomery in particular smote with a club and knocked down, and as soon as he could rise and take up his firelock another club from afar struck his breast or shoulder, what could he do? Do you expect he should behave like a stoic philosopher, lost in apathy? Patient as Epictetus* while his master was breaking his legs with a cudgel? It is impossible you should find him guilty of murder. You must suppose him divested of all human passions, if you don't think him, at the least, provoked, thrown off his guard, and into the furor brevis by such treatment as this.

Bailey "saw the mulatto, seven or eight minutes before the firing, at the head of twenty or thirty sailors in Cornhill, and he had a large cord-wood stick." So that this Attucks, by this testimony of Bailey, compared with that of Andrew and some others, appears to have undertaken to be the hero of the night, and to lead this army with banners. To form them in the first place in Dock Square, and march them up to King street with their clubs. They passed through the main street up to the main guard in order to make the attack. If this was not an unlawful assembly, there never was one in the world. Attucks, with his myrmidons, comes around Jackson's corner and down to the party by the sentry-box. When the soldiers pushed the people off, this man, with his party, cried, "Do not be afraid of them; they dare not fire; kill them! kill them! knock them over!" And he tried to knock their brains out. It is plain the soldiers did not leave their station, but cried to the people, "Stand off!" Now, to have this reinforcement coming down, under the command of a stout mulatto fellow, whose very looks was enough to terrify any person, what had not the soldiers then to fear? He had hardiness enough to fall in upon them, and with one hand took hold

*A famous Greek philosopher, whose early life was spent in slavery.

of a bayonet, and with the other knocked the man down. This was the behavior of Attucks, to whose mad behavior, in all probability, the dreadful carnage of that night is chiefly to be ascribed. And it is in this manner this town has been often treated. A Carr from Ireland, and an Attucks from Framingham, happening to be here, shall sally out upon their thoughtless enterprises at the head of such a rabble of negroes, etc., as they can collect together, and then there are not wanting persons to ascribe all their doings to the good people of the town!

[Mr. Adams continued with a minute consideration of the evidence produced on the side of the crown and in behalf of the prisoners, and endeavored to show that the assault upon the soldiers was sufficiently provoking to justify the prisoners, or at least to reduce to manslaughter the crime even of the two who were proved to have killed members of the mob. He then concluded as follows:]

I will enlarge no more on the evidence, but submit it to you. Facts are stubborn things, and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passions, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence; nor is the law less stable than the fact. If an assault was made to endanger their lives, the law is clear: they had a right to kill in their own defense. If it was not so severe as to endanger their lives, yet if they were assaulted at all, struck and abused by blows of any sort-by snowballs, oystershells, cinders, clubs, or sticks of any kind-this was a provocation for which the law reduces the offense of killing down to manslaughter, in consideration of those passions in our nature which cannot be eradicated. To your candor and justice I submit the prisoners and their cause.

The law in all vicissitudes of government, fluctuations of the passions, or flights of enthusiasm, will preserve a steady, undeviating course; it will not bend to the uncertain wishes, imaginations, and wanton tempers of men. To use the words of a great and worthy man, a patriot and a hero, an enlightened friend of mankind, and a martyr

to liberty-I mean Algernon Sidney,* who, from his earliest infancy, sought a tranquil retirement under the shadow of the tree of liberty, with his tongue, his pen, and his sword. "The law (says he) no passion can disturb. 'Tis void of desire and fear, lust and anger. 'Tis mens sine affectu; written reason; retaining some measure of the divine perfection. It does not enjoin that which pleases a weak frail man, but without any regard to persons commands that which is good, and punishes evil in all, whether rich or poor, high or low. "Tis deaf, inexorable, inflexible." On the one hand, it is inexorable to the cries and lamentations of the prisoners; on the other, it is deaf-deaf as an adder to the clamors of the populace.

*Author of "Discourses Concerning Government;" executed on a false charge of treason under Charles II., in 1683.