2. The result of the long and fearful conflict that must follow was more than doubtful. For twenty days Congress was tossed on a sea of perplexity. At length Richard Henry Lee, shaking off the fetters that galled his noble spirit, arose on the 7th of June, and in a clear, deliberate tone, every accent of which rung to the farthest extremity of the silent hall, proposed the following resolution: 3. "Resolved, That these United Colonies are, and ought to be, free and independent States, and all political connection between us and the States of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." 4. John Adams, in whose soul glowed the burning future, seconded the resolution in a speech so full of impassioned fervor, thrilling eloquence, and prophetic power that Congress was carried away before it, as by a resistless wave. 5. The die was cast, and every man was now compelled to meet the dreadful issue. The resolution was finally deferred to the 1st of July, to allow a committee, appointed for that purpose, to draft a Declaration of Independence. 6. When the day arrived, the Declaration was taken up and debated, article by article. The discussion continued for three days, and was characterized by great excitement. At length, the various sections having been gone through with, the next day, July 4, was appointed for final action. 7. It was soon known throughout the city; and in the morning, before Congress assembled, the streets were filled with excited men, some gathered in groups, engaged in eager discussion, and others moving toward the State House. All business was forgotten in the momentous crisis which the country had now reached. 8. No sooner had the members taken their seats than the multitude gathered in a dense mass around the entrance. The bellman mounted to the belfry, to be ready to proclaim the joyful tidings of freedom as soon as the final vote had passed. A bright-eyed boy was stationed below to give the signal. 9. Around that bell, brought from England, had been cast, more than twenty years before, the prophetic motto, PROCLAIM LIBERTY THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND UNTO ALL THE INHABITANTS THEREOF." Although its loud clang had often sounded over the city, the proclamation engraved on its iron lip had never yet been spoken aloud. 10. It was expected that the final vote would be taken without delay, but hour after hour wore on, and no report came from that mysterious hall where the fate of a continent was in suspense. The multitude grew impatient; the old man leaned over the railing, straining his eyes downward, till his heart misgave him, and hope yielded to fear. II. But at length, at about two o'clock, the door of the hall opened, and a voice exclaimed, "It has passed!" The words leaped like lightning from lip to lip, followed by huzzas that shook the building. The boy-sentinel turned to the belfry, clapped his hands, and shouted, "Ring! ring!" 12. The desponding bellman, electrified into life by the joyful news, seized the iron tongue, and hurled it backward and forward with a clang that startled every heart in Philadelphia like a bugle blast. "Clang! clang!" the Bell of Liberty resounded on, ever higher and clearer and more joyous, blending in its deep and thrilling vibrations, and proclaiming in long and loud accents over all the land, the motto that encircled it. 13. Glad messengers caught the tidings as they floated out on the air, and sped off in every direction to bear them onward. When they reached New York, the bells rang out the glorious news, and the excited multitude, surging hither and thither, at length gathered around the Bowling Green, and, seizing the leaden statue of George III., which stood there, tore it into fragments. These were afterward run into bullets and hurled against his Majesty's troops. When the Declaration arrived in Boston, the people gathered to old Faneuil Hall to hear it read; and as the last sentence fell from the lips of the reader, a loud shout went up, and soon from every fortified height and every battery the thunder of cannon re-echoed the joy. The same whom in my school-boy's days I listened to; that cry Which made me look a thousand ways, To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And I can listen to thee yet; O blessed bird! the earth we pace An unsubstantial faery place, That is fit home for thee! XVI. THE BOSTON MASSACRE. BANCROFT. I. On Friday, the 2d of March, 1770, a British soldier of the 29th Regiment asked to be employed at Gray's rope-walk, and was repulsed in the coarsest words. He then defied the rope-makers to a boxing match; and, one of them accepting his challenge, he was beaten off. Returning with several of his companions, they too were driven away. A larger number came down to renew the fight with clubs and cutlasses, and in their turn encountered defeat. 2. There was an end to the affair at the rope-walk, but not at the barracks, where the soldiers inflamed each others' passions, as if the honor of the regiment had been tarnished. 3. On Saturday they prepared bludgeons; and being resolved to brave the citizens on Monday night, they forewarned their particular acquaintances not to be abroad. 4. Evening came on. The young moon was shining in a cloudless winter sky, and its light was increased by a new fallen snow. Parties of soldiers were driving about the streets, making a parade of valor, challenging resistance, and striking the inhabitants indiscriminately with sticks or sheathed cutlasses. 5. A band, which rushed out from the barracks in Brattle Street, armed with clubs, cutlasses, and bayonets, provoked resistance, and an affray ensued. An ensign at the gate of the barrack yard cried to the soldiers, "Turn out, and I will stand by you; kill them; stick them; knock them down; run your bayonets through them!" And one soldier after another levelled a firelock, and threatened to "make a lane" through the crowd. 6. Just before nine, as an officer crossed King Street, a barber's lad cried after him, "There goes a mean fellow who hath not paid my master for dressing his hair"; on which a sentinel left his post, and with his musket gave the boy a stroke on the head which made him stagger and cry for pain. 7. The street soon became clear, and nobody troubled the sentry, when a party of soldiers issued violently from the main guard, their arms glittering in the moonlight, and passed on hallooing, "Where are they? where are they? let them come!" 8. "Pray, soldiers, spare my life!" cried a boy of twelve, whom they met. "No, no; we will kill you all!" answered one of them, and knocked him down with his cutlass. They abused and insulted several persons at their doors and others in the street, running about like madmen in a fury, crying, "Fire!" which seemed their watchword, and, "Where are they? knock them down!" Their outrageous behavior occasioned the ringing of the bell at the head of King Street. 9. The citizens whom the alarm set in motion came out with canes and clubs; a body of soldiers also came up, crying, "Where are the cowards?" and brandishing their arms. From ten to twenty boys came after them, asking, "Where are they; where are they?" "There is the soldier who knocked me down," said the barber's boy; and they began pushing one another towards the sentinel. He primed and loaded his musket IO. "The lobster is going to fire," cried a boy. Waving his piece about, the sentinel pulled the trigger. "If you fire, you must die for it," said one who was passing by. "I don't care," replied the sentry; "if they touch me, I will fire." "Fire away!" shouted the boys, persuaded he could not do it without leave from a civil officer; and a young fellow spoke out, "We will knock him down for snapping"; while they whistled through their fingers and huzzaed. II. "Stand off," said the sentry, and shouted aloud, "Turn out, main guard!" "They are killing the sentinel," reported a servant, running to the main guard. "Turn out; why don't you turn out? cried Preston, who was captain of the day, to the guard. A party of six formed with a corporal in front, and Preston following. With bayonets fixed, they |