Two British Officers Depart Boston

On 17 Mar 1776, the British military evacuated Boston, 146 years after the town’s founding, almost two years after the London ministry had sent troops into the town to enforce its laws, and eleven months after the Revolutionary War had begun in earnest at Lexington and Concord.

Capt. John Barker of His Majesty’s 4th Regiment recorded the withdrawal this way:

At 4 oclock in the Morn. the Troops got under Arms, at 5 they began to move, and by about 8 or 9 were all embarked, the rear being cover’d by the Gren[adie]rs. and Lt. Infy. The Rebels did not think proper to molest us. We quitted Boston with a fair wind and sailed down to King Road, which is just below Castle William. We were again firing last night at Foster’s hill, but the Rebels had in spite of that erected a Work there, by taking advantage of all our Artillery being away, except a few old Iron Guns.

Here is another officer’s description of the same events, published in London later that year in the Remembrancer. I suspect this anonymous officer was in the British dragoons because he mentioned that branch of the army more than any other:

Nantasket Road, March 17th.

Our retreat was made this morning between the hours of two and eight. Our troops did not receive the smallest molestation, though the rebels were all night at work on the near hill, and we kept a constant fire upon them, from a battery of four twenty-four pounders. They did not return a single shot. It was lucky for the inhabitants now left in Boston they did not. For I am informed everything was prepared to set the town in a blaze had they fired one cannon.

The dragoons are under orders to sail to-morrow for Halifax, a cursed, cold, wintry place even yet. Nothing to eat, less to drink. Bad times, my dear friend. The displeasure I feel from the very small share I have in our present insignificancy is so great that I don’t know the thing so desperate I would not undertake in order to change our situation.

The “King Road” and “Nantasket Road” were deep-water areas of Boston harbor. The British fleet actually remained in those regions, well within sight of Continental Army positions, for a few more days before beginning the sail to Nova Scotia.

“Still Detained by the Wind”

And on 16 Mar 1776, the British military still hadn’t left Boston! Even I’m starting to feel impatient for them to sail, and I know how this turns out. Having had his exit interview with the British commander, selectman Timothy Newell could only record bad weather and angst:

16th. Saturday. Rain. Great distress plundering &c.

Here’s Capt. John Barker’s record of what was keeping the fleet from sailing:

14 March: “Were to have embarked last night, but the Wind came against us.”

15 March: “The Wind being fair at 12 oclock in the day, the Troops were order’d under Arms in order to embark; but after waiting some time returned to their Quarters, the Wind having shifted.”

16 March: “Still detained by the Wind, and still firing all last night at Foster’s hill.”

Foster’s hill was an American position on the Dorchester peninsula, also called Nook or Nook’s hill. Charles Swift’s City Record blog offered a fine map with this hill marked helpfully with a little number 4. The site is said to be at the intersection of modern B and Third Streets in modern South Boston.

Gen. Howe Addresses the Selectmen

On Friday, 15 Mar 1776, Gen. Sir William Howe (shown here courtesy of NNDB.com) unburdened himself to the selectmen of Boston. Timothy Newell wrote it all down in his journal:

The General sent to the Selectmen and desired their immediate attendance, which we did accordingly. It was to acquaint us that as he was about retreating from the Town, his advice was for all the Inhabitants to keep in their houses and tho’ his orders were to injure no person, he could not be answerable for any irregularities of his troops.

That the Fowey man of war would continue in the harbour till the fleet sailed, loaded with carcases [shells] and combustibles, that in case the King’s troops met with any obstruction in their retreat he should set fire to the Town, which he wished to avoid—

That he thought it his duty to destroy much of the property in the town to prevent it being useful to the support of the Rebel army.

The General further said to us, that who ever had suffered in this respect (who were not Rebels) it was probable upon application to Government, they would be considered—

That Letters had passed between him and Mr. [George] Washington. That he had wrote to him in the style of Mr. Washington. That however insignificant the character of his Excellency, which to him was very trifling—it ought not to be given to any but by the authority of the King. He observed the direction of our Letters to him was—To his excellency General Washington, which he did not approve and whatever Intelligence had been given to the Rebels, tho’ in his letters to him, he did not charge him with being a Rebel. He further said he had nothing against the Selectmen, which if he had he should certainly have taken notice of it—

The General told us the Troops would embark this day and was told by General [James] Robertson it would be by three oclock. The Regiments all mustered, some of them marched down the wharf. Guards and Chevaux De Freze, were placed in the main streets and wharves in order to secure the retreat of Out Centinels. Several of the principle streets through which they were to pass were filled with Hhds. [hogsheads] filled with Horse-dung, large limbs of trees from the Mall [a tree-lined walk on Boston Common] to prevent a pursuit of the Continental Army. They manifestly appeared to be fearful of an attack.

The wind proved unfavorable, prevented their embarking. They returned to their quarters. Soon after several houses were on fire. The night passed tolerably quiet.

For me the most interesting part of these remarks was Howe’s complaint about the selectmen addressing Washington with the honorific “Your Excellency,” usually reserved for a general of governor. Despite the general’s protests, those remarks do smack of petty resentment and self-justification.

Furthermore, the question of how British commanders should address Washington would come up again on 14 July, in New York. I’ll quote from Joshua Micah Marshall’s New Yorker essay on how Gen. Howe’s brother tried to contact the American commander-in-chief:

[Adm. Lord Richard Howe] dispatched a young lieutenant, Philip Brown, with a letter addressed to “George Washington, Esq.” Brown arrived on Manhattan Island under a flag of truce, and on the shore to meet him were three of Washington’s most trusted officers. Hearing that he had brought a letter from “Lord Howe to Mr. Washington,” they rebuffed him, declaring that there was “no person in our army with that address.” Three days later, Howe’s emissary returned with a new copy of the letter—this one addressed to “George Washington, Esq., etc., etc.”—only to receive the same rebuff.

Finally, Howe sent to inquire whether General Washington would agree to receive a new emissary, Lieutenant Colonel James Paterson. The emissary was escorted to Washington’s headquarters, at No. 1 Broadway, for an “interview” conducted with all the crisp formality of eighteenth-century military life. After an exchange of pleasantries, Paterson placed on the table before Washington the same letter that his men had rejected only days earlier. Washington refused to acknowledge it. Hoping to move the conversation along, Paterson pointed out that the “etc., etc.” implied everything that might follow. Yes, it does, Washington replied, “and anything.”

From there the meeting swiftly reached an impasse.

If Newell and the selectmen had passed on Gen. Howe’s remarks to Washington—and they certainly spoke with him—then he might have been prepared for that later confrontation. He knew that the admiral’s brother saw meaning in titles and honorifics, “however insignificant.” And he had practice in refusing letters.

“Plundering of Houses, Shops, Warehouses”

By 14 Mar 1776, Boston selectman Timothy Newell was no longer fretting so much about the American cannons aimed at the town. Instead, he was fretting about the evacuating British. Poor soldiers and workmen had little incentive to hold back their frustrations or respect people’s property.

11th. Monday. Cannonade began about half past 7 from Hatch’s wharf and other battery’s at near the fortification, which continued most of the night.

12th. This day and night quiet—the Soldiers shut up in their Barracks, except some who were about, plundering. The wind high at N. W. The Inhabitants greatly distressed thro’ fear the Town would be set on fire by the Soldiers.

13th. Wednesday. The Inhabitants in the utmost distress, thro’ fear of the Town being destroyed by the Soldiers, a party of New York Carpenters with axes going thro’ the town beaking open houses, &c. Soldiers and sailors plundering of houses, shops, warehouses—

Sugar and salt &c. thrown into the River, which was greatly covered with hogsheads, barrels of flour, house furniture, carts trucks &c. &c.—One Person suffered four thousand pounds sterling, by his shipping being cut to pieces &c.—Another five thousand pounds sterling, in salt wantonly thrown into the River.

14th March. Thursday. The same as above except somewhat restrained by the General [probably William Howe].

I think Newell’s phrase “New York carpenters” refers to workers Gen. Thomas Gage had brought to Boston in the fall of 1774 to build barracks for his troops; few local workers had been willing to take that job. Now those men had little recourse but to evacuate with the British troops.

Meanwhile, Capt. John Barker of the 4th Regiment recorded the Continental artillery moving ever closer, the British engineers erecting obstacles to any American soldiers who might charge in to cut off their withdrawal, and the Royal Artillery loading their guns onto ships:

[13 Mar:] The Rebels began a Battery nearer the point of the Peninsula, intended against the Ships.

Breastworks and Abbatties thrown across some of the Streets, a dry ditch made between the two Gates at the Lines and one at the Neck; the Gates barricaded.

Every Cannon on board but some iron ones which are to be spiked.

Today’s thumbnail picture is from Colonial Williamsburg’s page on carpenters, with best wishes to everyone in those warmer climes.

Tar, Feathers, and Other Historical Details

Some historians had a chance to see parts of the upcoming H.B.O. miniseries on John Adams in their role as reviewers for the news media. And of course historians are particularly touchy about details of, well, history. Here are a couple of the responses I’ve seen.

In a review for The New Yorker, Harvard professor Jill Lepore suggests that, while this miniseries might reflect how John Adams would have liked to see history portrayed, maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t responsible for everything good that happened in the American Revolution. It was, after all, a mass movement that involved millions of people.

Lepore likes some of the dirty detail of eighteenth-century life:

Actually, the inoculation of Abigail and the Adams children against smallpox—more blood; also pus—is nearly the most terrifying scene in the four episodes made available to reviewers. It’s second only to the tarring and feathering of a British customs official in Boston, the brutality of which Adams watches with horror, in a masterly sequence that exposes the violence of insurrection and helps explain the future President’s enduring fear of democracy.

But the manners ring false for her: “Everyone is far too frank with everyone else (the eighteenth century was nothing if not coy).”

And what about that tar and feathers scene? Boston 1775 reader Ira Stoll, who’s working on a biography of Samuel Adams, sent me a link to his New York Sun critique:

In the first episode of HBO’s “epic seven-part miniseries event” John Adams, one of the most riveting scenes occurs at Boston Harbor, when a customs inspector or informant challenges John Hancock (Justin Theroux) for evading the taxes imposed by the British. “Teach him a lesson, tar the bastard,” Hancock commands a mob, which proceeds to do exactly that to the poor accessory of the crown. This being HBO, there’s a glimpse of full frontal nudity that is promptly drenched with hot tar. Hancock looks on, as do John Adams (Paul Giamatti) and his cousin Samuel (Danny Huston). “God, Sam, that’s barbarism,” John cries to his cousin, who stands silent. “Do you approve of this? Answer me, Sam, can you?”

It’s a telling scene, because there is no historical evidence that it ever happened. . . . There was a riot in June of 1768 over Hancock’s ship, the Liberty, in which customs officials were beaten, but there is no evidence that Hancock or either Adams was at the scene of that riot, nor is there any record that anyone was tarred in the event. . . .

The scene does convey, accurately, John Adams’s hostility to mob violence. . . . But it does so by inaccurately, well, tarring the reputations of Hancock and Samuel Adams, and by conjuring a situation that there is no evidence existed.

Such are the compromises attendant in turning history into a seven-part miniseries for television. . . . [David] McCullough is so deservedly celebrated as an author not only for his skill as a storyteller but for his care with research and facts. So it is disappointing to see the television version of his bestselling biography make such departures.

Indeed, both the Liberty riot on 10 June 1768 and the first tar-and-feathering in Boston on 28 Oct 1769 are documented in detail through the complaints of the victims and other Customs officials. If any of those men had seen or heard about Hancock, Adams, or any other well-known Whig leader directing, encouraging, or even silently watching the mobs, they would have publicized that detail.

As Stoll notes in his review, the top Whig leaders actually discouraged violent attacks on Crown officials and supporters, on the grounds that they discredited the cause. At different times in 1770 William Molineux kept a crowd from lynching Ebenezer Richardson after he shot young Christopher Seider, and Dr. Thomas Young helped to prevent Scottish merchant Patrick McMasters from being tarred and feathered.

There’s actually a link between the seizure of the Liberty and that first tar-and-feathers attack, which might have been why scriptwriter Kirk Ellis combined them. Though the smuggling case against Hancock was eventually dropped, the Customs service kept his ship and used it to chase down smugglers off Rhode Island. One of the sailors it employed, George Gailer, was spotted in Boston in October 1769. A mob seized him, stripped him, and covered him with tar and feathers.

Gailer sued seven people for this assault: Newport merchants Eleazar Trevett, Jr., and Benjamin Trevett; Newport mariner Daniel Vaughan; Boston mariner Edward Mathews; Boston tailors David Bradlee and Pool Spear; and a minor named David Provence. The defendants responded with a demurrer in Inferior Court, neither affirming nor denying the allegation but suggesting Gailer had no cause to sue. That court decided in their favor in January 1770. Gailer appealed but failed to appear in August 1771, and the case was dropped.

Based on an account-book entry, the attorney who represented David Bradlee in this matter was that opponent of mob violence, John Adams.

(The details of Gailer’s case appear in the first volume of The Legal Papers of John Adams. The picture above is a London portrayal of a Boston mob’s tar-and-feathers attack on John Malcolm in 1774.)

Celebrating John Adams—Would John Adams Approve?

The Massachusetts Historical Society and other august local institutions are going a little hysterical as well as historical over the John Adams miniseries that premieres on Home Box Office this weekend. I never expected to see a larger-than-life cardboard rendition of actor Paul Giamatti in the M.H.S. lobby, for instance. But since this excitement is increasing the historical resources the public can see, who can complain?

Last week the Boston Public Library hosted a showing of the first episode of the seven-part series. Here’s a photograph from that event of Adams biographer David McCullough and M.H.S. president Dennis Fiori, clicked by Michael Dwyer and supplied to Boston 1775 by the society. The next day, I was at the Old State House and heard that producer Tom Hanks had ordered a hundred of the gift shop’s appetizing Boston Massacre mugs.

The M.H.S. has mounted a free public exhibit titled “John Adams: A Life in Letters”:

The exhibition will focus on John Adams’s extraordinary correspondence, especially the letters he exchanged over almost forty years with his “Dearest Friend,” soul mate, and closest political adviser, Abigail Adams; and later, in retirement, his renewed correspondence with an old friend and colleague who had become his bitter political rival, Thomas Jefferson.

The exhibition also will include diaries kept by John Adams, his manuscript copy of the Declaration of Independence (he was a member of the committee that drafted the Declaration), and a first printing of Adams’s 1780 Massachusetts State Constitution, the oldest written constitution in use today.

In addition to the earliest portraits of John and Abigail Adams by Benjamin Blyth, the Society will exhibit Mather Brown’s portrait of John Adams, painted for Thomas Jefferson (on loan from the Boston Athenaeum), together with views, engravings, memorabilia, and a costume worn by Laura Linney as Abigail.

This exhibit will be open Monday through Saturday, 1:00 to 4:00 P.M., until 31 May at the society’s headquarters, 1154 Boylston Street in Boston’s Back Bay.

And that’s not all. The M.H.S. is working with Vassar College in Poughkeepsie to mount an exhibition of Adams manuscripts in the Frederick Ferris Thompson Memorial Library:

“My Dearest Friend” consists primarily of letters exchanged between John and Abigail Adams. While only a sampling of their almost 1,200 surviving letters is on display, the correspondence of John and Abigail is the cornerstone of the most important collection held by the Society, the Adams Family Papers. The exhibition will include some of the most famous letters in American history:

• Abigail Adams’s admonition to husband John to “Remember the Ladies” as he worked on the “Declaration of Independency,” in a letter dated 31 March 1776.
• his description for her of the vote for independence in Philadelphia three months later.
• John’s 2 November 1800 letter to her from the President’s House, the first letter written from the White House, illustrated by James Hoban’s original floor plan of the executive mansion.

This exhibit at Vassar will run 5-30 April 2008.

The M.H.S. website now has a new section on Adams letters that tie directly to the miniseries episodes.

Finally, M.H.S. reference librarian Jeremy Dibbell has uploaded the details of John Adams’s personal library to LibraryThing, as explained here.

Would John Adams have approved of all this hullaballoo? I think that the easiest way to get him to say anything was to propose the opposite, so suggesting that he’d be happy with this public honor would have prompted him to say that he never believed in chasing after fame. But in secret he would have been absolutely delighted.

Dr. Samuel Gelston in and out of Custody

I’m finally getting back to Dr. Samuel Gelston from Nantucket, and how he went from being a respected smallpox inoculator before the war to a prisoner under the Massachusetts General Court.

According to Fred B. Rogers’s article in the 1972 Journal of History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, quoted on David Kew’s Cape Cod History, the friction started in Nov 1775 when H.M.S. Swan anchored off Nantucket. Its captain, James Ayscough, had a good reputation in Rhode Island before the war. He, his wife, and his crew were welcomed by at least some Nantucketers, who didn’t share the mainlanders’ enthusiasm for rebellion. On the 16th, Shubael Lovell (1740-1805) of Barnstable sent the captain a letter saying: “Pray, sir, be pleased to accept a few vegetables, to be delivered to you by Doctor Gelston, a bold and staunch friend to Government...” That letter seems to have been intercepted by Patriots.

On 12 December, after the Swan had left the Nantucket harbor, N. Freeman wrote to Gen. George Washington:

This Shubael, though he appears an ignorant fellow, hath considerable influence among the Barnstable Tories, hath practised coasting [i.e., sailing along the coast] to Nantucket the summer past, and I have no doubt hath communicated every thing of intelligence to the navy, if not frequently supplied them with provisions.

Doctor Gelston, to whom he alludes in his letter, we have taken a number of depositions of his having supplied them considerably from Nantucket. He swears he will do it in defiance of the people, and threatens communicating the small-pox to any one who resists him. I wish he was taken, but cannot get any one, as yet, to join me in sending on for him.

Maj. Joseph Dimmick, commander of Falmouth’s minuteman company, took on that task. He sailed to Nantucket on 30 December, arrested Dr. Gelston, and brought him back to the jail at Plymouth. Shubael Lovell was already there.

The legislature then had to decide what to do with the physician. On 16 Jan 1776, a committee composed of members of both the House and the Council concluded that he had “supplied the enemies of American liberties with sundry articles of provision“ and was “a dangerous person.” It recommended that the General Court make the doctor post a bond of £1,000 and promise not to “assist or correspond with any of the enemies of this country.”

However, the lower house considered that too lenient. Instead, the representatives voted:

whereas, the greatest danger must necessarily result from permitting such persons to go at large and continue their traitorous practices of opposing the measures adopted for our defence, of spreading false and discouraging rumours, and of communicating in formation of all our operations to our unnatural enemies:

And it is, therefore, Resolved, That the honourable Board be, and they hereby are desired to cause the said Samuel Gelston to be forthwith confined in some Jail in this Colony, until it shall appear to the General Court, or other proper authority of this Government, that he can with safety to the United Colonies be again set at liberty.

Two days later, Joseph Palmer of Braintree brought Dr. Gelston from Falmouth to Watertown, where the General Court was meeting. On 22 January, the Council offered another solution, according to Samuel Abbott Green’s Groton During the Revolution: Dr. Gelston should pay the bond of £1,000 and not leave the town of Groton. If he refused, then he would be put in jail in Newburyport. Once again, the House voted against this idea.

The provincial authorities finally sent Dr. Gelston back to the Plymouth County jail. It looks like he may never have reached there. On 3 February the Council acknowledged that he “did make his escape from the Messenger of the honourable House of Representatives, who had him in his keeping.”

The Library of Congress’s American Memory project offers a look at the broadside that the legislature issued on 26 Jan 1776. The text reads:

RAN AWAY from the custody of the Messenger of the General Court, a certain Dr. Samuel Gelston, belonging to Nantucket, a short well set man; had on when he went away a reddish Sheepskin coat, dress’d with the wool inside, and a scarlet waistcoat; he was apprehended as an enemy to this country, ’tis suppos’d he will attempt escaping to the enemy, by the way of Nantucket, Rhode-Island, or New York,—

Whoever will take up said Gelston and deliver him to the messenger of the House of Representatives, shall be well rewarded for his time and expence.

(Thanks to Tom Macy for that lead.)

Dr. Gelston got as far as Rhode Island before being recaptured by 3 February. He must have made contact with some Loyalist or Crown official since Timothy Newell heard news from the doctor in Boston on 29 January.

A man named John Brown [why can’t everyone have uncommon, easily tracked names?] was found to have helped the doctor escape; according to the Boston Gazette, he had agreed to do so for £50. When the authorities arrested Brown, they discovered that he had the audacity to be carrying ten pounds of tea. The Council ordered Gelston and Brown to jail and had the tea publicly burned. So there.

COMING UP: Dr. Gelston goes to trial.

Crean Brush in “Very Distressed Times”

On 10 Mar 1776, Boston selectman Timothy Newell described a new development in the British authorities’ evacuation of Boston:

Lord’s day P M. Embarking orders are given to deliver Creen Brush esqr. all the woolen and linen goods—

Some persons delivered their goods, others he forced from them, to a great value. Shops, stores, houses, plundered, vessels cut to pieces &c. &c. Very distressed times.

Gen. William Howe had issued this order:

AS Linnen and Woolen Goods are Articles much wanted by the Rebels, and would aid assist them in their Rebellion, the Commander in Chief expects that all good Subjects will use their utmost Endeavors to have all such Articles convey’d from this Place:

Any who have not Opportunity to convey their Goods under their own Care, may deliver them on Board the Minerva at Hubbard’s Wharf, to Crean Brush, Esq; mark’d with their Names, who will give a Certificate of the Delivery, and will oblige himself to return them to the Owners, all unavoidable Accidents accepted.

If after this Notice any Person secretes or keeps in his Possession such Articles, he will be treated as a Favourer of Rebels.

Brush had been the British governors’ designated collector of valuable goods since 1 Oct 1775, when Gen. Thomas Gage issued this proclamation:

To CREAN BRUSH, Esquire.

WHEREAS there are large Quantities of Goods, Wares, and Merchandize, Chattels, and Effects, of considerable Value left in the Town of Boston, by Persons who have thought proper to depart therefrom, which are lodged in Dwelling-Houses, and in Shops, and Store-Houses adjoining to, or making Part of Dwelling-Houses.

AND WHEREAS, there is great Reason to apprehend, and the Inhabitants have expressed some Fears concerning the Safety of such Goods, especially as great Part of the Houses will necessarily be occupied by His Majesty’s Troops and the Followers of the Army, as Barracks during the Winter Season; To quiet the Fears of the Inhabitants, and more especially to take all due Care for the Preservation of such Goods, Wares, and Merchandize:

I have thought fit, and do hereby authorize and appoint you the said CREAN BRUSH, to take and receive into your Care, all such Goods, Chattels, and Effects, as may be voluntarily delivered into your Charge, by the Owners of such Goods, or the Person or Persons whose Care they may be left in, on your giving Receipts for the same; and you are to take all due Care thereof, and to deliver said Goods when called upon, to those to whom you shall have given Receipts for the same.

For Americans who found that Brush had taken their stuff, receipts or no, he became one of the most unpopular Loyalist officials of the war. Perhaps because of that unpopularity, it’s not easy to find solid information about him, especially about his family life. Americans were primed to believe the worst.

But this seems to be the most reliable information, collected by John J. Duffy and Eugene A. Coyle in their 2002 article “Crean Brush vs. Ethan Allen: A Winner’s Tale” in Vermont History (available as a P.D.F. download). Crean Brush was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1727. He became a lawyer, a militia officer, a husband, and, in short order, a father and a widow. Leaving his young daughter with relatives, Brush set out for the colony of New York, arriving by 1762.

Over the next few years Brush accumulated grants for an estimated 50,000 acres in the part of New York that was also claimed by New Hampshire—i.e., what became Vermont. In 1770, he moved to Westminster, where he was the local grandee and royal officeholder. From 1773 to 1775 he represented the town in the New York legislature, firmly supporting the royal authorities. In March 1774, a law Brush helped to draft offered rewards of £50-100 for the capture of Ethan Allen and other men resisting New York control over what they called “the New Hampshire grants.”

After the war began, Brush made his way to Boston and offered his services to Gen. Gage. In January 1776, he proposed to raise a regiment of 300 men to patrol the land between the Connecticut River and Lake Champlain for the Crown. But his main activity was collecting goods, which to some looked like pillaging under the cover of military law. As to why Howe and Brush were so eager to confiscate “Linnen and Woolen Goods,” cloth was relatively rare and expensive before the invention of spinning and weaving machines.

More about Crean Brush’s adventures in Boston to follow. The portrait above of him as a young man appeared in Benjamin H. Hall’s History of Eastern Vermont, copyrighted in 1857.

Washington’s Reply to the Selectmen

On 9 Mar 1776, Capt. John Barker of his Majesty’s 4th Regiment of Foot recorded that the Continental Army had consolidated its position on Dorchester heights, and was building new artillery batteries even as the British authorities continued to prepare for evacuation:

The Rebels having been deserned carrying Materials for making a Battery to Foster’s hill [also called Nook’s hill] at Dorchester, the nearest of any to Boston; and at 8 o’clock in the evening it being reported they were at work there, our Batteries at the Blockhouse, the New Work at the Neck and...Wharf began to play upon them, and kept it up all night so as to prevent their Working: they likewise fired at the Town from their different Batteries at Roxbury.

All the Brass Artillery on board except a few small field pieces. Orders for all the sick Men and Wo[men to] be embarked before night.

On the same day, in his diary Timothy Newell wrote the eighteenth-century abbreviation for “ditto,” meaning he saw the same “hurry and commotion” as the day before, and described some property damage from the Continental barrage:

Do. Do. Do. Received answer from the lines from Colo. Learned commanding officer at Roxbury—Saturday evening 9 oclock, began cannonade, which continued the whole night—One 18 pound shot came thro’ our house, another thro’ the fence and summer house into the Garden, and several shot, thro’ my neighbour’s Houses.

On the 7th, Newell and three fellow selectmen had sent a letter “To the Commanding Officer at Roxbury,” describing their conversation with Gen. James Robertson, who in turn had spoken to Gen. William Howe, the overall British commander. Col. Ebenezer Learned replied to the gentlemen who had carried that letter out, Thomas and Jonathan Amory and Peter Johonnot:

Roxbury March 9th 1776.

Gentlemen, Agreeable to a promise made to you at the lines yesterday, I waited upon his Excellency General [George] Washington and presented to him the Paper handed to me by you from the select-men of Boston. The answer I received from him was to this effect—

That as it was an unauthenticated paper without an address and not obligatory upon Genl. Howe, he would take no notice of it.

I am with esteem and respect,
Gentn. your most humble servt.
Ebenezer Learned.

Though that reply might have seemed discouraging, the letter had probably accomplished its purpose. Washington and other American officers had read the report that Howe had “no intention of destroying the Town” if the inhabitants and besiegers didn’t try to harm his men as they left. The Continental commander-in-chief might stand on protocol and refuse the letter, but he now knew that his rival was leaving Boston and probably didn’t plan to burn it to the ground.

Even during the day’s artillery exchanges, some people saw signs of moderation as the siege came to an end. An anonymous British officer whose remarks were published in the Remembrancer in London wrote:

I have slept one night on board [a transport ship]; the troops are embarking as fast as possible. I mistook when I imagined the works already made could destroy the town; but the rebels possess a hill so situated, that if they pleased to erect a battery it would entirely consume us. They as yet have not proceeded to make a work, nor do they attempt to molest us in our embarkation. It appears as if there were at least a tacit agreement between Washington and General Howe.

Today’s image is “George Washington at Dorchester Heights,” painted by Jane Stuart (1812-1888) after a canvas by her father, Gilbert Stuart. His version is at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. Hers comes courtesy of the Maryland Historical Society.

All Hurry and Commotion

In March 1776, the diaries of town selectman Timothy Newell and British army captain John Barker ran in parallel as both described the hasty preparations for the evacuation of Boston.

On 8 March, Newell wrote:

The town all hurry and commotion, the troops with the Refugees and Tories embarking.

I find it interesting that Newell distinguished between “Refugees”—presumably folks who moved into Boston to be behind British lines after September 1774—and those who seem to be the town’s own “Tories.”

As for Barker, he wrote about some men who wanted to stay behind:

The whole Crew of a Brig deserted last night.

Remembering the Newburgh Address

On Saturday, 15 March 2008, the Massachusetts Historical Society will host an open house celebrating the 225th anniversary of Gen. George Washington’s “Newburgh Address.” The society is displaying its copy of that speech, in Washington’s own hand, which can also be viewed online along with a full transcription.

This address was Washington’s response to what’s become known as the “Newburgh Conspiracy,” after the location of the Continental Army’s headquarters in Newburgh, New York. At the time, the Congress under the Articles of Confederation was having difficulty with raising revenue, and thus with paying or supplying the army as promised. Some politicians and officers supported the idea of a “national impost,” or tariff. Some states resisted this idea, however, and the different levels of government were at an impasse.

An anonymous letter to army officers at Newburgh, composed by Maj. John Armstrong, urged them to be more forceful with Congress:

I would advise you, therefore, to come to some final opinion, upon what you can bear, and what you will suffer. If your determination be in any proportion to your wrongs, carry your appeal from the justice to the fears of government—change the milk and water style of your last memorial; assume a bolder tone—decent, but lively—spirited and determined; and suspect the man who would advise to more moderation and longer forbearance.

Let two or three men, who can feel as well as write, be appointed to draw up your last remonstrance; for I would no longer give it the sueing, soft, unsuccessful epithet of memorial. Let it be represented (in language that will neither dishonour you by its rudeness, nor betray you by its fears) what has been promised by Congress, and what has been performed; how long and how patiently you have suffered; how little you have asked, and how much of that little has been denied.

Tell them that though you were the first, and would wish to be the last, to encounter danger; though despair itself can never drive you into dishonour, it may drive you from the field; that the wound often irritated, and never healed, may at length become incurable; and that the slightest mark of indignity from Congress now, must operate like the grave, and part you for ever; that in any political event, the army has its alternative.

If peace, that nothing shall separate you from your arms but death; if war, that courting the auspices and inviting the directions of your illustrious leader, you will retire to some unsettled country, smile in your turn, and “mock when their fear cometh on.”

Washington’s address responded to this letter, characterizing its message in part like this: “If Peace takes place, never sheath your Swords says he untill you have obtained full and ample Justice.” Nothing like those words appears in the letter to officers, at least in the versions that have survived. That letter seems more like a threat to resign en masse and leave the Congress undefended rather than a threat to overthrow that Congress. But Washington reacted as if he saw the threat of a military coup, and most historians have taken up that interpretation.

The M.H.S.’s open house runs from 1:00 to 4:00 P.M. Former director William M. Fowler, Jr., will speak about the address at 2:00 P.M. There will also be tours of the building and of the exhibition of original documents tied to “John Adams: A Life in Letters,” the H.B.O. miniseries that begins airing the following evening. The society is at 1154 Boylston Street in Boston’s Back Bay.

2008 Massacre Event Moving Inside

Because Saturday’s weather forecast calls for heavy rain with a chance of flooding, the reenactment of the Boston Massacre outside the Old State House has had to be changed. Instead of reenacting the shootings on the sidewalk outside, the Bostonian Society and its volunteers invite visitors to come inside the museum at 7:00 P.M. for gallery talks and other presentations related to the fatal confrontation on King Street.

While people—even tourists—can stand up to rain, and wool clothing will eventually dry, muskets don’t fire well in the wet. What’s more, damp black powder can become stuck in the gun barrels and turn into a safety hazard. That was the big reason why rain brought an end to battles in Revolutionary times. Heavy rain also seems to have played a part in the quick and peaceful end of the Powder Alarm of September 1774. And the “Hurrycane” on the sixth anniversary of the Massacre kept the British army from attacking Dorchester heights.

I’ll be one of those volunteers staying dry inside the Old State House, so please come and say hello!

The Selectmen Plead for a Cease Fire

On the day after the British military command decided to evacuate Boston as quickly as possible, selectman Timothy Newell described their haste in his journal:

The last night and this day the Troops are very busily employed in removing their stores, cannon, ammunition—some of the Dragoons on board, the Refugees &c. &c., in shipping their goods &c.

The Selectmen write to the commanding officer at Roxbury, at the earnest desire of the Inhabitants and by permission of Genl. [William] Howe as follows.

To the Commanding Officer at Roxbury.
Boston March 8th 1776.

As his Excellency Genl. Howe is determined to leave the Town with the troops under his command, a number of the respectable Inhabitants, being very anxious for its preservation and safety, have applied to General [James] Robertson for this purpose, who at their request have communicated the same to his Excellency Genl. Howe, who has assured him, that he has no intention of destroying the Town, unless the Troops under his command are molested, during their embarkation, or at their departure by the armed force without; which declaration he gave General Robertson leave to communicate to the Inhabitants. If such an opposition should take place, we have the greatest reason to suspect the Town will be exposed to entire destruction.

As our fears are quieted, with regard to General Howe’s intentions, we must we may have some assurances, that so dreadful a calamity may not be brought on by any measures without. As a testimony of the truth of the above we have signed our names to this Paper, carried out by Messrs. Thomas and Jonathan Amory, and Peter Johonnet, who have at the earnest entreaties of the Inhabitants, through the Lieut. Governor [Thomas Oliver] solicited a flag of truce for this purpose.

[signed]
1 John Scollay
2 Timothy Newell
3 Thomas Marshall
4 Samuel Austin

These selectmen had remained in Boston through the siege with the hope of preserving people and property, and now they faced threats both from the angry departing British troops and the American artillery. These men were staunch Whigs, but not everyone trusted their accommodations to the military authorities. In July 1775, Joseph Greenleaf had even referred to Gen. Thomas Gage’s “tools the S——t-men” in a letter to his brother-in-law, Robert Treat Paine.

It’s interesting that the selectmen didn’t go out to the lines themselves. Perhaps the general wouldn’t allow them to. Instead, of the men who delivered their letter to the American lines, Peter Johonnot was a Loyalist and the Amory brothers had tried to stay neutral, and thus would all return to Boston.

Ezekiel Price Enjoys a Massacre Oration

Last night I had the pleasure of hearing nine students from Boston Latin School deliver extracts of orations heard in Boston from 1771 to 1858 on the anniversaries of the Boston Massacre. They did a fine job of expressing the slippery-slope political arguments of the Revolutionary Whigs and the patriotic outrage of the ante-bellum Abolitionists. This event took place at Old South Meeting House, and was co-sponsored by the Bostonian Society.

Boston 1775 offers thanks to William Thompson, Eli Brown, Stephanie Rufo, Jacob Meister, Azia Marie Carle, John Wall, Cristhel Santillan, Kevin McCaughey, and Finora Franck, as well as their teacher at Boston Latin, Wendy Ann Holm.

As a tribute to such oration, I quote from Ezekiel Price’s diary for 6 Mar 1776. Price was a court official and marine insurance broker in pre-Revolutionary Boston; he thus knew every businessman in town. Because in 1776 Boston was occupied by British troops (who in turn were occupied with plans to evacuate that day), the town didn’t commission an oration on the Massacre that year. Instead, the tradition was moved outside the town to Watertown, where the General Court was meeting. Price wrote:

Yesterday, went to Watertown, and attended the delivery of the annual oration of the 5th of March on the horrid massacre in Boston in 1770. The meeting was opened with prayer by the Rev. Dr. [Samuel] Cooper, and the oration delivered by the Rev. Mr. Peter Thacher.

A considerable number of Bostonians were assembled on the occasion; which was a most agreeable sight, especially as there appeared an affectionate regard for each other.

Orders to Evacuate the Town

On 6 Mar 1776, Gen. Sir William Howe and his top officers weighed their situation, following the washout of their plans to attack Dorchester Heights, where the Continentals had built fortifications and mounted artillery. Capt. John Barker’s journal recorded the results:

It was determined by a Council of War to quit the Town. Orders [issued?] to get ready with all expedition, and to take as little baggage as [possible?]...

Transports allotted for the Troops: the Townspeople had liberty to go or stay: Artillery, Ammunition, Stores &c., &c., getting on board.

Selectman Timothy Newell was pleased to hear that the troops were leaving, but also worried about how they would react and what they would leave behind. His diary entry for that day:

This day the utmost distress and anxiety is among the Refugees and associaters &c. &c. &c., orders being given to embark the Kings Troops and evacuate the Town. Blessed be God our redemption draws nigh.

All those “&c.”’s disguise the challenges of moving thousands of men and a thousand more civilian Loyalists out of town while under fire. One indication of how some soldiers reacted to their army’s defeat appeared in Gen. Howe’s general orders at the end of the next day:

The Commanding Officers of Corps to order every Dram Shop in their respective Districts to be shut up, & to forbid Liquors to be sold on any Account, to be Attentive that their Men are in their Quarters as soon as possible in the Evening, & to be particularly carefull that they are all Present at Taptoo Beating. If any Person is detected in Selling Spirituous Liquors in Contradiction to this Order they are to be made Prisoners, & the Liquor found in their Possession destroy’d.

The British Prepare to Attack Dorchester Heights

On 24 Feb 1776, David Cobb sent his in-law, Robert Treat Paine, an update on how the siege of Boston looked from their home town of Taunton. (Paine was in Philadelphia as a Massachusetts delegate to the Continental Congress). Cobb predicted:

The Bombardment of Boston takes place within 12 days from this, proberbly on the 5th of March, and I am as certain of the Town’s being carry’d, as I am of my own existance.

Poor Devils. 5500 British Troops in a strong Fortefied Town, taken prisoners of War by a percel of undisceplin’d Yankees comanded by a Virginia Farmer. O! terrible.

Why did Cobb have his eyes on the 5th of March? Folks from Massachusetts relished the idea of attacking the British garrison on the sixth anniversary of the Boston Massacre. According to the Rev. Dr. William Gordon’s early history of the war, Gen. George Washington himself told men on the Dorchester heights, “Remember it is the fifth of March, and avenge the death of your brethren.”

[We interrupt this posting for a reminder about this week’s Boston Massacre commemorative activities. And now back to 1776.]

Here’s what 5 Mar 1776 looked like to one British officer, quoted in The Remembrancer, an annual compilation of newspaper dispatches published in London:

This morning, at daybreak, we discovered two redoubts on the hills on Dorchester Point, and two smaller works on their flanks. They were all raised during the night, with an expedition equal to that of the genii belonging to Aladdin’s wonderful lamp. From these hills they commanded the whole town, so that we must drive them from their post, or desert the place.

The former is determined upon, and five regiments are already embarked. A body of light infantry, under the command of Major [Thomas] Musgrave, an excellent officer, and a body of grenadiers, are to embark to-night at seven. I think it is likely to be so far a general affair, that we shall take our share in it. . . .

It is worth while to remark with what judgment the leaders of the rebels take advantage of the prejudices, and work upon the passions of the mob. This 5th of March is the anniversary of what they call the Bloody Massacre, when, in (I think) 1769, the king’s troops fired on the people in the streets of Boston. If ever they dare stand us, it will be to-day; but I hope to-morrow to be able to give you an account of their defeat.

Gen. Sir William Howe later described the new Continental fortifications as “three very extensive works, with strong abattes [abbatis] round them, on the commanding hill on Dorchester-Neck, which must have been the employment of at least twelve thousand men.” The large cannons and mortars on those heights could not only throw shot and shell into Boston, but also threatened the Royal Navy vessels in the harbor. The endgame of the siege had started.

Howe ordered a massive attack on the Continental position. He had five regiments board ships at Long Wharf, each man carrying a full day’s provisions, and sail to Castle William. Meanwhile, he wrote in his general orders:

Clerk’s & Musgrave’s Corps of Lt. Infantry, Agnews & Wemy’s Grenadiers, 23d & 38th Regts. to parade this evening at 7 o’Clock, & be ready for embarkation. The two Corps from Barton’s point will march to the Long Wharf as soon as form’d; the whole to have their Canteens fill’d with Rum & Water, to take the day’s provisions order’d to be ready dress’d & their Blankets with them. Those Corps not to Load [their muskets]; and their Barrack Guards to consist of Convalescents [i.e., no able-bodied man was to be left behind].

These two bodies of men were to attack different parts of Dorchester in the evening and fight their way up to the heights. Both sides expected such a battle could be as hard-fought and bloody as the fight for Bunker Hill, which neither army had truly won.

[Gosh, this is suspenseful! Have I mentioned this week’s Boston Massacre commemorative events?]

Lt. John Barker described how the amphibious expedition unfolded (in a part of his journal that had some gaps]:

5 Regts. embarked under [command?] of B[rigadier]. G[eneral]. Valentine Jones and fell down to Castle William; in the night they were to have [landed in Dorchester?] on that side, while the Grenrs. Light Infy. and some more Regts. were [to have?] attacked on the side next the Town; the Men were not to load but [embark with?] fixed Bayonets: in the night it came on to blow such a gale [that no?] boat cou’d possibly land, which stopt the expedition.

The following day, Howe’s headquarters issued included this statement in his general orders: “The General desires the Troops may know that the intended expedition last Night was unavoidably put off by the badness of the Weather.”

Here’s how the same events looked to selectman Timothy Newell, stuck in Boston with the British troops but hoping for their defeat:

Tuesday.—This morning the Provincials were discovered fortifying the heights of Dorchester—

About 12 oclock 7 Regiments of the Kings Troops, embarked in Transports, commanded by General Jones where were to land at Dorchester-Neck and the main body, with the Light Dragoons were to go out at the lines in the night &c. &c.

Eight or ten Ships sailed below—but whether, a Hurrycane, or terrible sudden storm which arose, in the evening prevented, or a pretence only, can’t say—nothing was attempted,—

Indeed the violence of the storm rendered it impossible for any boat to land—Some of the Transports were driven on Governors Island, but got off and returned.

The storm gave the Continentals another day to strengthen their already-strong position, and that proved crucial.

“Throwing in Shot and Shells ’till Daybreak”

On Sunday I described how the Continental artillery started to bombard Boston with shot and shells. This is what it felt like inside Boston, according to selectman Timothy Newell’s journal for 2 March:

Saturday night half past 11, began from the Country, Bombardment and cannonade which continued on both sides till morning and then ceased and began again Lords day evening at 9 and so continued all the night, and tho’ several houses were damaged and persons in great danger, myself one, no one as I can learn received any hurt.

I get the sense that Newell, a deacon of a his Congregationalist meeting, felt an extra level of shock that this bombardment was coinciding with the Sabbath. Were New England soldiers really behaving that way?

Lt. John Barker of the 4th Regiment described the same bombardment with the eyes of a military man:

About 11 o’clock at night, upon a Signal being given at Cambridge, the Rebels began to bombard the Town of Boston, from Phipps’s Farm, Cobble’s Hill, and the Heights of Roxbury; they continued throwing in Shot and Shells ’till daybreak; the same was returned them from the Lines and the Batteries at Barton’s Point: Our Shells very bad, most of ’em bursting in the Air or not at all.

Barker’s account of the next night:

At 10 this night the Rebels began again, and a warmer fire was kept up on both sides ’till daybreak; the Rebels had removed the Mortar from Phipps’ Farm to Cobble’s hill. . . .

Very remarkable no hurt was done as the most of the Shot and Shells fell in the Town. Out A–t—y a little mended, a few of our Shells answering.

I wonder if Barker’s choice to blank out letters in “Artillery,” as if it were a profane word or a name that should not be mentioned, signaled that he still didn’t think much of that branch’s performance.

As for Newell, on 4 Mar 1776 he felt the dangers of the shells growing worse:

Monday—soon after candle light, came on a most terrible bombardment and cannonade, on both sides, as if heaven and earth were engaged.

Five or six 18 and 24 lb. shot struck Mr. [Peter] Chardon’s house [near Bowdoin Square], Gray’s, Winnetts.—our fence &c.—

Notwithstanding, the excessive fire till morning, can’t learn any of the Inhabitants have been hurt, except a little boy of Mr. Leaks, had his leg broke—it is said some of the soldiery suffered.

In fact, the Continental bombardment of Boston was remarkable in causing very few fatalities, even among the British troops.

Dr. Samuel Gelston Fights the Smallpox

A few days ago I wrote about a “Dr. Gilson,” who escaped from the Plymouth jail in late February 1776 and informed people in Boston of an upcoming Continental Army offensive. I identified him as Dr. Samuel Gilston of Nantucket, and tentatively shared what information I could find.

Then Boston 1775 reader Tom Macy alerted me to a broadside that spelled the man’s name as “Gelston,” and that opened a big ol’ door. Dr. Samuel Gelston turns out to be much better documented than Dr. Samuel Gilston or Gilson.

Let’s start with his genealogical information: Samuel Gelston was born in 1727, died in 1782. He married a woman named Anne Cotton, and they had eight children, including the boy Roland (who I’d correctly guessed was the doctor’s son and successor as a physician on Nantucket). According to this article from Gelston.org, Samuel Gelston was the son of Hugh and Mary Gelston of Southampton, New York.

Fred B. Rogers’s 1972 article about the two doctors in the Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences (shared on this page of Cape Cod medical history) states that in 1763 Dr. Samuel Gelston offered to inoculate people against the smallpox in Edgartown on Martha’s Vineyard. Inoculation then meant deliberate infection with (what one hoped was) a weak strain of the smallpox virus. Patients developed the disease, became contagious for a while, sometimes died, but more often survived with lifelong immunity.

Dr. Gelston’s inoculations were successful enough that he went to the Massachusetts capital when it suffered an outbreak the following year. The Boston Post-Boy for 5 Mar 1764 carried this advertisement:

Dr. SAMUEL GELSTON
Gives this Publick Notice to his Patients in Boston and the adjacent Towns that he has prepared (by Permission of his Excellency the Governor) all comfortable Accommodations for them at the Barracks at Castle-William, in order to their being inoculated for the Small-Pox under his immediate Care.

N. B. His Rooms are in that Part of the Barrack where the Patients of Dr. Nathaniel Perkins, Dr. [Miles] Whitworth and Dr. [James] Lloyd are received.

Dr. Gelston and Dr. [Joseph] Warren reside at Castle-William Day and Night.

All Persons inclined to go to the Barracks at Castle-William to be inoculated where Dr. Gelston resides, may apply to Dr. Lloyd at his House near the King’s Chapel, who will provide them a Passage to the Castle.

In 1771, Dr. Gelston set up another smallpox inoculation hospital on Gravelly Island off Nantucket. Obed Macy’s 1835 History of Nantucket says:

Houses were accordingly built, and the business commenced. But it was not long before the people began to murmur, and express their dissatisfaction with the measure; for some who had been there to be inoculated, were so careless as to put the inhabitants in
danger of taking the disease on their return.

The locals asked the Massachusetts General Court to order Gelston to stop the inoculations, bought his property the next year, and tore down the buildings.

Dr. Gelston applied to open hospitals in Edgartown in 1771 and in Buzzards Bay in 1772, and was turned down both times. Then came the war.

COMING UP: Dr. Gelston as a “dangerous person.”

A Deadly Barrage from the Continental Artillery

On 2 Mar 1776, the Continental Army began an artillery barrage against Boston, firing from Cobble Hill and Lechmere’s Point in Cambridge and Lamb’s dam in Roxbury. This was the opening of a spring offensive designed to drive the British military away from the town.

Remember how excited the Americans were back in November after capturing a British ordnance ship? The biggest prize was a thirteen-inch brass mortar that Gen. Israel Putnam and Quartermaster-General Thomas Mifflin christened “the Congress.” That was deployed for this bombardment, and was probably one of the first guns to be fired.

In his history of Middlesex County, Samuel Adams Drake wrote:

It was related by Colonel [William?] Burbeck that the battery containing the “Congress” mortar was placed under the command of Colonel David Mason. With this mortar Mason was ordered to set fire to Boston. His first shell was aimed at the Old South, and passed just above the steeple.

The next shell was aimed more accurately at the roof, which it would doubtless have entered had not the mortar burst, grievously wounding the colonel and killing a number of his men. . . .

Through the inexperience of those who served them, four other mortars were burst during the bombardment which preceded the occupation of Dorchester Heights.

Gen. William Heath of Roxbury wrote that the mortars “were not properly bedded, as the ground was hard frozen.” The Americans probably still lacked experienced artillerists, and were paying for it.

I suspect Drake relied on Richard P. Frothingham’s History of the Siege of Boston in counting five mortars burst over all. As of 3 Mar 1776, Heath and Dr. James Thacher had counted only three, so Frothingham may have counted two twice. Still, those deadly explosions must have been demoralizing for the Americans.

That bombardment was only the first part of the Continental commanders’ plan, however. The artillery fire was meant to keep the British busy while Americans fortified the heights on Dorchester point. The image above, from the Dorchester Atheneum, shows how that town’s peninsula overlooked the Boston peninsula to its northwest (so small it’s not even labeled on this map) as well as a narrow point in the harbor.

At the Battle of Bunker Hill, the provincials had started their redoubt in the middle of the night before the battle. The provincials improvised more protection for themselves along a rail fence, and had superior numbers available, but they ran out of gunpowder and couldn’t stop the British from taking not only the redoubt but the whole Charlestown peninsula.

Gen. George Washington and his commanders were determined to make the Dorchester fortifications strong enough to withstand a British counterattack. That required preparing parts of the works in advance, to be assembled on the heights, and a multi-day construction effort. Hence the need to distract the British with cannonballs and shells.

Massacre Anniversary Week in Boston

In the upcoming week, two of Boston’s historical sites will observe the 238th anniversary of the Boston Massacre. The actual anniversary on Wednesday, 5 March, will be observed with oratory. This year the dramatic reenactment of the event will take place on Saturday, 8 March, to allow more people to attend.

Wednesday, 5 March
9:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M.
The Bostonian Society’s Old State House Museum, backdrop of the shootings (the center tower in the little image here), will be open for free all day. See the coroner’s jury report on Crispus Attucks, prints depicting the shootings in vivid color, and more.

6:30 P.M.
The Old South Meeting House, site of annual orations commemorating the Massacre from 1771 to 1783, will host an event recalling those speeches. High school students will read the words of such pre-Revolutionary orators as John Hancock and Dr. Joseph Warren, and of John Rock, an African-American dentist who addressed the memory of Attucks in speaking for Abolition before the Civil War. Suffolk University history professor Robert Allison will narrate this free event.

Saturday, 8 March
11:00 A.M. and 2:00 P.M.
“Kids Reenact the Massacre”: Young visitors will walk through a reenactment of the confrontation outside the Old State House, with coaching from the rangers of the Adams National Historical Park. (No actual young visitors will be harmed in the making of this reenactment.)

11:30 A.M. and 2:30 P.M.
“Trial of the Century”: Another program from the Adams Park rangers and friends, acting out the trial of the British soldiers charged with murder. Audience members will be invited to act as witnesses and jurors. Inside the Old State House; free with museum admission.

4:00 P.M. to 6:30 P.M.
Printmaker and historical tour guide Gary Gregory will show how Paul Revere engraved and printed his provocative image of the Massacre, using a replica copperplate press. Inside the Old State House; free with museum admission.

7:00 P.M. into the night
Boston Massacre Reenactment
Local military and civilian reenactment groups will act out the famous incident outside the Old State House. Watch, listen, and interact with the people of 1770 Boston. The Bostonian Society invites people to come into the museum after the event for light refreshments with the reenactors. Free, with donations appreciated.