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8. The Americans gained with the fortress nearly fifty prisoners, more than a hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen-inch mortar, and a number of swivels, stores, and small arms. To a detachment under Seth Warner, Crown Point,* with its garrison of twelve men, surrendered upon the first summons. Another party succeeded in making a prisoner of Skeene, a dangerous British agent, and in getting possession of Skeenesborough.

9. Messengers carried to the Continental Congress news of the great acquisition which inaugurated the day of its assembling. "A war has begun," wrote Joseph Warren + from the Massachusetts Congress; "but I hope, after a full conviction both of our ability and resolution to maintain our rights, Britain will act with necessary wisdom. This I most heartily wish, as I feel a warm affection still for the parent State.”

Bancroft.

ANALYSIS. Plan to insulate and reduce New England. Who were engaged in the enterprise to capture Fort Ticonderoga? Who was associated with Ethan Allen? What took place on the 8th of May? Address of Allen to his men. His words to Delaplace. How Delaplace was compelled to surrender. What was gained by the capture of the fort? Announcement of it to the Continental Congress. Words of Joseph Warren.

WORD ANALYSIS AND DEFINITIONS.

Fu see' (fu-ze'), a light musket; a firelock.

In au'gu ra ted, commenced; introduced into office.

In ́su late (insula, an island; ate, to make), to detach or disjoin. U nan'i mous (un, one; animus, mind), agreeing in opinion or sentiment.

Un dis'ci plined, untrained; not duly exercised and taught.

* Crown Point was situated on the western shore of Lake Champlain, north of Ticonderoga.

+ Joseph Warren was born in Massachusetts in 1741. At the breaking out of the Revolution, he was a physician in Boston, but afterwards served as a general in the army. He was killed at the battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775.

T

LESSON XXV.

THE BOSTON MASSACRE.

1. It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset music of the British regiments was heard, as usual, throughout the town. The shrill fife and rattling drum awoke the echoes in King Street, while the last ray of sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the town-house. And now all the sentinels were posted. One of them marched up and down before the custom-house, treading a short path through the snow, and longing for the time when he would be dismissed to the warm fireside of the guard-room.

2. In the course of the evening, there were two or three slight commotions, which seemed to indicate that trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men stood at the corners of the streets, or walked along the narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers, who were dismissed from duty, passed by them, shoulder to shoulder, with the regular step which they had learned at the drill. Whenever these encounters took place, it appeared to be the object of the young men to treat the soldiers with as much incivility as possible.

3. "Turn out, you lobster-backs!" one would say. "Crowd them off the sidewalks!" another would cry. "A redcoat has no right in Boston streets." "O, you rebel rascals!" perhaps the soldiers would reply, glaring fiercely at the young men, "some day or other we'll make our way through Boston streets at the point of the bayonet!"

4. Once or twice such disputes as these brought on a scuffle, which passed off, however, without attracting much notice. About eight o'clock, for some unknown cause, an alarm-bell rang loudly and hurriedly. At the sound, many people ran out of their houses, supposing it to be an alarm of fire. But there were no flames to be seen, nor was there any smell of

smoke in the clear, frosty air; so that most of the townsmen went back to their own firesides. Others, who were younger and less prudent, remained in the streets.

5. Later in the evening, not far from nine o'clock, several young men passed down King Street, toward the customhouse. When they drew near the sentinel, he halted on his post, and took his musket from his shoulder, ready to present the bayonet at their breasts. "Who goes there?" he cried, in the gruff tones of a soldier's challenge. The young men, being Boston boys, felt as if they had a right to walk in their own streets without being accountable to a British redcoat. They made some rude answer to the sentinel. There was a dispute, or perhaps a scuffle. Other soldiers heard the noise, and ran hastily from the barracks to assist their comrade.

6. At the same time many of the towns-people rushed into King Street by various avenues, and gathered in a crowd about the custom-house. It seemed wonderful how such a multitude had started up all of a sudden. The wrongs and insults which the people had been suffering for many months now kindled them into a rage. They threw snow-balls and lumps of ice at the soldiers. As the tumult grew louder, it reached the ears of Captain Preston, the officer of the day. He immediately ordered eight soldiers of the main guard to take their muskets and follow him. They marched across the street, forcing their way roughly through the crowd, and pricking the towns-people with their bayonets.

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7. A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterward general of the American Artillery,) caught Captain Preston's arm. "For Heaven's sake, sir," exclaimed he, "take heed what you do, or there will be bloodshed!" Stand aside!" answered Captain Preston, haughtily; "do not interfere, sir. Leave me to manthe affair." Arriving at the sentinel's post, Captain Preston drew up his men in a semicircle, with their faces to the crowd. When the people saw the officer, and beheld the

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threatening attitude with which the soldiers fronted them, their rage became almost uncontrollable.

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8. "Fire, you lobster-backs!" bellowed some. "You dare not fire, you cowardly redcoats," cried others. Rush upon them!" shouted many voices. "Drive the rascals to their barracks! Down with them! Down with them! Let them fire, if they dare!" Amid the uproar, the soldiers stood glaring at the people with the fierceness of men whose trade is to shed blood.

9. O, what a crisis had now arrived! Up to this very moment, the angry feelings between England and America might have been pacified. England had but to stretch out the hand of reconciliation, and acknowledge that she had hitherto mistaken her rights, and would do so no more. Then the ancient bonds of brotherhood would again have been knit together as firmly as in old times. But, should the king's soldiers shed one drop of American blood, then it was a quarrel to the death. Never, never would America rest satisfied until she had torn down royal authority, and trampled it in the dust.

10. "Fire, if you dare, villains!" hoarsely shouted the people, while the muzzles of the muskets were turned upon them; "you dare not fire!" They appeared ready to rush upon the leveled bayonets. Captain Preston waved his sword, and uttered a command which could not be distinctly heard amid the uproar of shouts that issued from a hundred throats. But his soldiers deemed that he had spoken the fatal mandate, "Fire!" The flash of their muskets lighted up the street, and the report rang loudly between the edifices.

11. A gush of smoke overspread the scene. It rose heavily, as if loth to reveal the dreadful spectacle beneath it. Eleven of the sons of New England lay stretched upon the street. Some, sorely wounded, were struggling to rise again. Others stirred not, nor groaned, for they were past all pain. Blood was streaming upon the snow; and that purple stain, in the

midst of King Street, though it melted away in the next day's sun, was never forgotten or forgiven by the people.

Hawthorne.

ANALYSIS. The evening of the third of March described. Encounters between the soldiers and the young men of the city. Angry exclamations on each side. What incident occurred at eight o'clock? What took place later in the evening? The gathering of the multitude. Order of Captain Preston. Action of Henry Knox. Further proceedings of the soldiers. Words of the people. The crisis described. What directly caused the soldiers to fire on the people? The result of the massacre.

LESSON XXVI.

THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON.

1. Slowly the mist o'er the meadow was creeping,
Bright on the dewy buds glistened the sun,

When from his couch, while his children were sleeping,
Rose the bold rebel and shouldered his gun.

Waving her golden vail

Over the silent dale,

Blithe looked the morning on cottage and spire;

Hushed was his parting sigh,

While from his noble eye

Flashed the last sparkle of liberty's fire.

2. On the smooth green where the fresh leaf is springing, Calmly the first-born of glory have met.

Hark! the death-volley around them is ringing!
Look! with their life-blood the young grass is wet!
Faint is the feeble breath,

Murmuring low in death,

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