Buckets, Bags and Engines at the Boston Massacre

I'll be portraying a citizen of Boston at this year's commemoration of the Boston Massacre who, responding to the ringing of church bells at an unaccustomed hour, turned out thinking there was a fire.  There are numerous contemporary accounts in eyewitness testimony that describe people in the crowd carrying fire buckets and other equipment, at least two fire engines hauled to the vicinity of the confrontation at the Customs House, and people asking directions to a fire.  I've decided to adopt the persona of one of these eyewitnesses, Thomas Wilkinson, who reported:

"The Old South bell rung for nine as usual; about a quarter after I heard Mr. Cooper's bell ring, I went out and saw the Old South engine hauled out.  I ran down as far as the town pump.  There seemed to be a considerable body of people, and some with buckets...The Old Brick bell began to ring, and the people seemed to come along fast, with buckets and bags."

Wilkinson describes a full array of fire-fighting responses from the citizens of Boston, although there was, in fact, no fire.  Fellow Bostonian John Colburn recounted;

"being alarmed by the cry of fire and ringing of bells, ran out of my house with my bags and buckets; upon going to Mr. Payne's door, he told me it was not fire, it was a riot. I sent my buckets home again..."

Newtown Prince, another witness to the events that night, recalled "When the bells rung I was at my own house.  I run to the door and heard the cry of fire.  I went out and asked where the fire was; somebody said it was something better than fire.  I met some with clubs, some with buckets and bags, and some running before me with sticks in their hands."

Dr. John Jeffries and William Whittington gave similar testimony:

Dr. John Jeffries - "I then passed up the alley myself into Cornhill; as soon as I got out of the alley I heard the Old Brick bell ring.  There were many in the street running, some with buckets, inquiring where the fire was..."

William Whittington - "In a little time I heard the bells ring, and made a stop and asked what was the matter?  They said fire.  I saw several people with buckets, &c., and I asked them where they were going?  They said there is fire somewhere."

Just what were these buckets, bags and engines described by these and other witnesses to the Boston Massacre? 

Boston had a long history of fire-fighting, developing an elaborate system of public and private resources to respond to blazes and protect life and property.  The first fire engine, a wheeled wooden reservoir equipped with hand pumps and a nozzle, was imported for use in the Town in 1678, a year which also saw the establishment of the first paid fire department.  By 1770 there were ten fire engines in Boston, including two that were the very first built in America, constructed by local blacksmith and engine captain David Wheeler. The Selectmen's Minutes from March 10th, 1766 record:

" Mess^rs. John Green and David Wheeler having at their own cost and charge, built and Compleated a Fire Engine, which upon tryal does honor to the Country as well as to the Constructers; the use thereof on all Ocassions by means of Fire that may happen they may offer the Town, provided they will keep the same in good repair, and allow the Men belonging thereto, the Exceptions and Priviledges indulged the other Engine-Men - it is therefore Voted that the Town do accept the said generous proposal."

The following week David Wheeler was appointed Captain of the new engine, designated No. 10 and called the Green Engine. Later that year in November, Wheeler proposed building an Engine House at Pond Lane near the intersection with Newbury Street. Although David Wheeler was later replaced as Engine Captain, other Wheelers maintained control of the Engine. On the night of the Massacre, one participant testified that Wheeler's engine responded to the bells.

Thomas Greenwood - "...spending the evening at Mrs. Wheeler's, I was alarmed by the bells ringing and the people's crying fire, upon which I turned out with Mrs. Wheeler's three sons and helped Mr. Wheeler's engine as far as the Old South meeting house."

It should be noted that his contemporaries considered Greenwood an unreliable witness - he was a servant to the Customs collectors and gave wildly conflicting testimony about his involvement in the "Massacre"- but this detail may, in itself, be more credible. From No.10's Engine House to the South Meeting House was about three long blocks, a bit more than half the distance to the head of King Street at the Town House.

We already know from Thomas Wilkinson's report that the Old South Engine (No. 7) was out at this time, and probably was one of the two later reported together at King Street by eyewitness Benjamin Frizwell:

"The deponent proceeded about his business, as far as Wheeler's Point, and while there, the bell rang as usual for fire, and he with others ran to the Town-house; two engines being there drawn, the men attending, left them on the west end of the Town-house." 

According to another participant, Benjamin Davis; "I...went into King street, and saw some with buckets; the engine was in King street, but nobody with it."  He may be referring either to the South Engine or to the one kept at the Town House - No. 5, called The Marlborough Engine - that would have been closest to the commotion. Shubael Hewes, who was south of the Custom Hosue when the bells began ringing, reported;  

"I spent the evening with an acquaintance near the Town dock; sitting in the room, the Master of the house came into the room, and said fire was cried, and the bells a ringing; as I belonged to the engine, I was first out of the door, with my surtout and stick...I thought I should meet our engine coming down the lane or Cornhill..."  

Mr. Hewes belonged to Engine No. 5, and would succeed its long-serving Engine Captain Thomas Read in 1772.

From this we can conclude that at least two fire engines reached the head of King Street by the North end of the Town House (No. 5 and No. 7.) when the bells rang, and perhaps one more responded at least part way (Engine No. 10).

The paid fire companies were not the only ones who turned out that night, however. There were also
volunteer Fire Societies, associations of 25 to 30 neighbors and merchants who pledged to come to each others' assistance in case of fire. Some of the regulations and orders of these ancient associations have been preserved. One of the more colorfully named was the Anti-Stamp Fire Company, established in 1763 but evidently renamed when it published its bylaws in 1765 (republished in 1776). In addition to specifying fines for member non-attendance or non-compliance, the rules of the Society made specific mention of fire equipment that each member was to maintain and bring with him in case of fire:

Jonathon Rowe's Fire Bucket

Fire buckets were made of leather and waterproofed with pitch.   They sometime bore elaborate "folk art" designs in addition to the identifying names and numbers associated with their owners.  Fire Societies sometimes painted their motto on their buckets, though I have been unable find documentation for any that may have been associated with the Anti-Stamp F.S.   It is tempting to imagine the thundering words of James Otis rendered as a Latin motto, and I could not resist doing so, but it is purely conjectural:

                Tributum Çine RepræÇentatione Tryannus eÇt.

The other fire-fighting equipment referenced in the rules of the society was standard salvage gear.  Once a blaze took hold, the threat to personal household property was of more immediate urgency than saving the structure, which in turn was a threat to the Town.  While some members formed bucket brigades, others used their fire bags to rescue items from the burning buildings.  These bags were made of linen duck or other strong canvas, and often had a draw string to secure their contents.  A surviving Portsmouth, New Hampshire fire bag used during this period by a member of a local Fire Society appears at right.

The reference to a "Bed-Winch" actually indicates a bed-wrench, a specialized forged iron tool used to disassemble the heavy wooden beds that  were often the most valuable possession in the household. These wrenches included ends that could draw recessed bolts that joined the posts and the frames of the bedstead.  Though their form and complexity evolved over time, bed-wrenches or bed keys remained an essential part of the fire-fighter's tool kit well into the 19th century.

The fact that many people turned out for a fire when the alarm bells rang was an important point of testimony during the aftermath of the Boston Massacre.  It was necessary to establish what people held in their hands, whether buckets and bags or more dangerous items such as clubs, because it could very well affect the verdict if the soldiers acted in self defense.  Thomas Wilkinson thought there was a fire, and he described buckets, bags and engines in his account.  Although one cannot be certain that he brought any fire-fighting supplies to the scene himself, I am prepared to play him that way, with bucket in hand, when the showdown at the Customs House plays out once again this year for the Boston Massacre commemoration.  It remains to be seen whether I shall take liberties with the motto or stick to the plain requirements of name and number.

_________________________________________________________________________________
Sources:

Arthur W. Brayley; A Complete History of the Boston Fire Department: Including the Fire-Alarm Service and the Protective Department; from 1630 to 1888; Boston, Massachusetts: John P. Dale & Co., 1889

Frederick Kidder, History of the Boston Massacre,, March 5, 1770, Consisting of the Narrative of the Town, the Trial of the Soldiers, and a Historical Introduction; Albany, New York: Joel Munsell, 1870

"Rules and Orders to be Observed by the Anti-Stamp Fire Society", 1763

"Rules and Orders to be Observed by the Anti-Stamp Fire Society, Instituted at Boston, October 1763, Revised and Corrected November 1776"

Selectmen's Minutes (vol 7) 1769-1775; Boston, Massachusetts; Rockwell & Churchill, 1893

"An Arbitrary Action, Contrary to Law, Inconsistent with Liberty": Customs Enforcement and Resistance, 1765 (Part III)

Detail from "New England from Chatham Harbour to Narragansett Bay showing Buzzards Bay"
(1779) Chart by J.F.W. Des Barres & Lt. John Knight

His Majesty's Ship  Maidstone overwintered in Newport's normally ice-free harbor during the unusually cold winter of 1764-1765, replacing the 20-gun sixth rate Squirrel (1755). Maidstone's Captain Charles Antrobus could expect little thawing in naval relations with local authorities, merchants and seafaring interests in the Town, and was forwarded that his customs enforcement mission would be resisted. Actual armed conflict had already broken out over the navy's presence the previous summer, when a waterfront mob attacked and drove off a landing party from the six-gun Schooner Saint John (purchased just a month before in Boston).

The navy was in pursuit of a deserter who may well have been a pressed man, but the citizens were also upset about a recent customs seizure and the alleged theft of some chickens by three men from the schooner.  Pelting the sailors with stones, the large crowd injured a number of the men in Saint John's boat and

took a midshipman hostage. Then some of the mob took up muskets and pursued the retreating longboat back toward the Saint John in a sloop. Before the end of the affair, the colonial gunners at the Fort George on Goat Island even fired cannon (one shot allegedly piercing her Mainsail) at Saint John before Squirrel moved up to assist the navy schooner.


When Captain Antrobus arrived at Newport December, 1764, Governor Samuel Ward sought assurances that he would refrain from pressing Newporters and keep Maidstone's impressment activities offshore, preferably beyond the jurisdiction of the Colony. Whatever concessions might have been agreed to initially soon evaporated in the face of both active and passive interference with customs enforcement by local authorities as well as through crowd action.

Customs seizures made by the navy, similar to prizes taken in time of war, went through a legal condemnation process at a vice-admiralty court on shore. Confiscated cargos and vessels deemed in violation of customs and excise laws sold by the authorities and shares in the proceeds apportioned accord to the jurisdictions involved, which in North America might include the colonial governor and Admiral Corville in Halifax along with the Exchequer and the Crown.

It was rarely a straightforward process, with owners and seamen often counter-suing customs and naval officers for damages and with claims of unlawful seizure. Although the Collectors and Controllers of customs were appointed by the British government and backed by the navy, in charter colonies like Rhode Island the governor, High Sheriff and vice-admiralty judge were all local men elected to their positions and were often uncooperative in customs cases. Captain Antrobus soon had reason to consider the local authorities throughout Narragansett Bay to be completely unsupportive of Maidstone 's customs enforcement activities. Two incidents in later winter and early Spring, 1765 made that point very clear.


John Robinson, appointed Collector of Customs at Newport in 1764, was a man of a different stripe than his predecessors who had been willing to accept enormous bribes in exchange for lax enforcement of import duties and trade restrictions. Along with Customs Comptroller John Nicholl, he coordinated with the navy to aggressively interdict smugglers in Narragansett Bay and bring cases to court.

In late February, 1765, aided by Maidstone's 2nd Lieutenant William Jenkins, these men intercepted two vessels suspected of smuggling molasses in contravention of the Sugar Act. They were the brigantine Wainscott and the sloop Nelly. One of Wainscott's principal owners was Elisha Brown of Providence, a close ally of Governor Ward and soon to be elected Lieutenant Governor himself, while Nelly belonged to Thomas Greene, who was part of a prominent Quaker family in the Colony. According to the customs officials, "it was notorious that ["Wainscott" and "Nelly"] had run cargoes of molasses", but they encountered numerous obstacles trying to prove their case in the local Admiralty court.

Admiralty Judge John Andrews set a court date for the case just days after the customs men brought their charges. Robinson and Nicholl were aghast, writing the Court on March 10, 1765: "You can't suppose it possible for us, in the space of three Days, to procure proper proofs to Support these Suits; And we must Desire of you to Urge the Necessity of an Adjournment of the Court for at least a Fortnight." In response to this, Judge Andrews gave them a single week. When the Court reconvened, the Marshall failed to issue summonses to witnesses and, the Customs men complained bitterly the Advocate "Absolutely Declined for Reasons known only to himself." The plaintiffs were left to represent themselves before the Court, but without supporting evidence the defendants were acquitted. This was not the end of the affair, with suits and counter suits continuing until 1767 when Judge Andrews brought a £10,000 defamation suit against Robinson, and the latter only escaped imprisonment through appointment to another customs position in Boston.  

L. F. Tantillo - "Salt Marsh Sanctuary"
http://lftantillo.com/18th-century/salt-marsh-sanctuary.html

The second case involved the sloop Polly, owned by Job Smith of Taunton, Massaschusetts. Polly arrived in Newport under the command of Master Timothy Doggett or Daggett on April 2nd with a cargo of molasses from Surinam in the West Indies Although her home port was up the Taunton River from Narragansett Bay in Massachusetts, Newport's customs house had jurisdiction. Master Doggett declared 63 casks of molasses and paid 3p/gallon in customs duty, then proceeded up the bay and into the Taunton River. As a hogshead at this time was 63 gallons, this was a conveniently round number. On April 4th, Robinson examined Doggett's customs declaration and, suspecting the report "was not just", brought the matter to the attention of Captain Antrobus.


Instead of dispatching a junior officer with a ship's boat to overtake the Polly, Captain Antrobus seems to have taken on this task personally. Accompanied only by a skeleton crew from Maidstone, Collector Robinson with his servant, Daniel Guthridge, and the Searcher of Customs Nicholas Lechmere, Captain Antrobus overtook Polly far upriver on April 6th near Dighton, Massachusetts. On boarding her they found their suspicions had been correct and twice as many casks of molasses in the hold as declared on the manifest.


Discovery meant that Robinson could libel the undeclared portion of the cargo and the sloop as customs seizures, but he was without the immediate means to secure his prize. No one in Dighton was willing to assist the handful of customs and navy men, so Robinson and Antrobus were compelled to return to Newport and dispatch a prize crew, leaving only Guthridge and Lechmere to keep watch over the at anchor offshore. By the time a naval detachment was sent back up river on April 8th by Captain Antrobus, the customs enforcement effort had been overtaken by events back in Dighton.


It did not help that there was a conveniently located tavern not far from shore. On April 7th, Lechmere and Guthridge rowed themselves over to quench their thirst, but found their skiff gone when they sought to return to Polly, 100 yards out in the river. At nightfall, about 40 local men "with blackened faces" sailed over to Polly and offloaded her entire cargo of molasses. Stripping her anchors and fittings, these interventionists then ran Polly ashore at high tide and stranded her on the riverbank. Neither could Lechmere and Guthridge get any support from the local Massachusetts authorities to look into the matter or support their customs seizure. Ruefully, they headed back down to Narragansett Bay to report to Robinson and Antrobus.


At this point, one can only imagine the Navy Captain's ire. One indication is the size of the force he took back to Dighton along with Robinson - thirty marines (more than Maidstone's full compliment) and forty armed seamen. On route they met the initial prize crew, which had been prevented from reaching Polly by a mob of over 100 angry men. When they boarded the grounded sloop, they found holes bored through her hull and other damage.


Undeterred, Robinson set out to recover the molasses on shore. Unable to secure a writ of assistance to aid in his search, he was instead confronted by a £ 3,000 damage suit filed by Master Daggett. Without any friends to post his bond, Robinson was jailed for several days while Antrobus worked to get the damaged Polly back to Newport. Just eight casks of Molasses were recovered, and Robinson and Antrobus decided they had had enough of local justice. Because the seizure took place in Massachusetts, they could bring the case to trial in Boston, but they preferred to take their prize to Halifax, instead, where there was an Admiralty Court that covered the entire eastern seaboard and was free from local influence. It would be very difficult for the defendants to call supporting witnesses for a case held at such great remove, but Polly ultimately was taken to Halifax later that summer and condemned as a lawful seizure.


Robinson and Antrobus went to Boston to arrange for the change of venue. Governor Bernard expressed reservations about moving the Admiralty case to Halifax (he would lose his share in any condemnation proceeds) and Antrobus told him, in so many words, to mind his own business. This left Maidstone in the hands of its 1st Lieutenant, Cuthbert Baines. It was, perhaps not coincidentally, at this same time that impressment activity spiked in Newport, culminating in yet another confrontation between the navy and a large waterfront mob, on the King's Birthday, no less. We will discuss what Rhode Islanders remember as the "Maidstone Affair" in the next post in this blog series.

Being Samuel Gray: Interpreting a Central Figure from the Boston Massacre (Part V and last)

Detail from a sketch of the Massacre Site attributed to Paul Revere

When rope worker Samuel Gray arrived on King-street the second and final time on the night of the Boston Massacre,  events had nearly reached a climax.  Benjamin Davis, Jr., who was one of the witnesses for the defense, stated during questioning that "I do not suppose he could have got into King Street two minutes before the firing."  It was then that he was shot dead in the street, suffering a massive head wound.  His fate was recorded in the Boston Gazette and Country Journal a week after the shooting:

“The Dead are Mr. Samuel Gray, killed on the spot, the ball entering his head and beating off a large portion of the skull…”

What did Gray do during those final minutes of life?   Did he stand by, passively observing with arms folded to keep his hands warm, or did he encourage the members of the crowd to stand firm?  Was he unarmed, or did he carry the stick that Davis remembered him having but others claimed he did not?  What does the evidence suggest about the clothes he may have worn and precisely when he fell?

One of the first depositions to mention Gray's actions was given by Charles Hobby, taken on March 20th, 1770 "to perpetuate the remembrance of the thing" and recorded as No. 44 in the Town's Narrative of the Boston Massacre.

…I saw the mulatto fall, and Mr. Samuel Gray went to look at him, one of the soldiers at a distance of about four to five yards, pointed his piece directly for the said Gray’s head and fired. Mr Gray, after struggling, turned himself right around upon his heel and fell dead. Capt. Preston some time after ordered them to march to the guard-house. I then took up a round hat and followed the people that carried him down to a house near the post office.”

Thanks to Hobby's recollection, a round hat seems an appropriate choice of head covering for an historical interpretation of Samuel Gray's clothing.  Hobby is the only witness who testified that Gray was looking at Attucks lying on the ground when he himself was shot.  Others had him falling at about the same time.

Ebenezer Brigham testified for the prosecution at the trial of the soldiers of the 29th regiment, during which it became clear that Private Matthew Killroy had fired the weapon that killed Gray.

“I saw Gray fall...He fell in the middle of the street…the gun that killed him must have been nearer to the Center.”

Watchman Edward G. Langford also testified for the prosecution.  He gave a detailed account of Gray's last moments:

"Samuel Gray, who was shot that night, came and struck me on the shouldered, and said ‘ Langford, what’s here to pay?’…I looked this man (pointing to Killroy), in the face, and bid him not fire, but he immediately fired, and Samuel Gray fell at my feet…"

Q) "How many guns went off before he fired?"
A) "Two, but I saw nobody fall. Gray fell close to me. I was standing , leaning on my stick.”
Q) "Did Gray say anything to Killroy before he fired?"
A) "He spoke to nobody but me."
Q) "Did he throw any snow-balls?"
A) "No, nor had he any weapon in his hand, he was naked as I am now.”
Q) "Did you see anything thrown?"
A) "No, I saw nothing at all thrown of any kind."
Q) "Was you talking with Gray at the time the gun went off?"
A) "I did not speak with him at that instant, but I had been talking with him several times before that."
Q) "Was you near Gray, that if he had thrown anything you must have seen it?"
A) "Yes, his hands were in his bosom, and immediately after Killroy’s firing, he fell…”
...
Q) "Have you any doubt in your mind that it was that gun of Killroy’s that killed Gray?"
A) "No manner of doubt: It must have been it, for there was no other gun discharged at that time…”
Q) After Gray fell, did he (Killroy) thrust at him with his bayonet?
A)  "No, it was at me he pushed."
Q) "Did gray say anything to Killroy, or Killroy to him?"
A)  "No, not to my knowledge, and I stood close by him."
Q)  "Did you perceive Killroy take aim at Gray?"
A)  "I did not: He was as liable to kill me as him."

This was crucial evidence for the prosecution, for if it could be shown that Gray was unarmed and not acting in a hostile manner, it supported a charge against Killroy of deliberate murder. For the historical interpreter, it provides a line of dialogue and a pose for Gray to assume before being shot. "His hands were in his bosom" might suggest they were inside an outer garment, perhaps for warmth, or they might have been tucked under his arm pits. Sam Adams later paraphrased Langford's description of Gray, saying "his arms were folded in his bosom."  I've tried it both ways, and find it easier and more natural to place my hands across my chest and under my arms than to unbutton a jacket or coat and stick them inside. That is probably the way I will play it this Saturday during the Massacre reenactment.

Samuel Gray, "hands... in his bosom", option 1

Samuel Gray, "arms folded in his bosom", option 2 (with stick)

Joseph Hinkley was a witness for the defense, and he described Gray as more actively engaged in the mob:

"…Samuel Gray, who was shot that night, clapped me on the shoulder, and said do not run, my lad, they dare not fire, and he ran back and forth among the people and clapped others on the back as he did me."

Q) "Had he anything in his hand?"
A) "I think not: I looked to my left soon after the guns were fired, and saw him on the ground, and with the help of some others, carried him to Dr. Loring’s shop, but could not get in, and left him there."
Q) "Did you see anybody go up to Gray, and thrust at him with a bayonet?"
A) "No I did not see it."
Q) "How near did he fall to the soldiers?"
A) "He was in the middle of the street."
…
Q) "How near was you to Gray?"
A) "About three or four yards distance."

Hinkley's evidence helped John Adams argue that Killroy acted in self defense.  According to his version, Gray encouraged the crowd to stand because the soldiers would not shoot without authorization from a higher authority than Captain Preston.  Past experience during the ropewalk brawls and other confrontations may have encouraged this idea, and indeed the "rules of engagement", to use the modern term of art, should have prevented the soldiers from shooting.  Hinkley also describes where Gray's body was carried after he was killed, and indeed Dr. Loring's shop was quite near the Post Office on the other side of King-street where Charles Hobby said he had followed the body with the round hat.

Defense attorney John Adams dismissed the crowd that night as "a motley rabble of saucy boys, negros and molattoes, Irish teagues and outlandish jack tarrs."  Which of these descriptions fits Samuel Gray, about whom not much more is known for certain save that he was a native Bostonian of English stock and a laborer at John Gray's ropewalk? 
The most famous contemporary engravings of the Massacre by Pelham and Revere depict Gray in jacket and trowsers, clothing associated both with sailors and with lower class laborers.  Aside from the round hat described by Hobby, Gray might have worn any of the clothing of the period usually associated with those of the lower sort in Boston or with sailors familiar with rope work.  Jackets were very common among among these groups, as well as linen trowsers, sometimes worn over breeches and long stockings.  There was a foot of snow in the streets on March 5th, 1770, so it is likely that an under jacket was worn as well.

As to whether Gray had a stick, only one witness during the trial proceedings recalled that he had one, and that was young Benjamin Davis, Jr. who was not at the Massacre site when the shooting took place.  Hinkley, a defense witness, stated that he did not think Gray had anything in his hand.  Langford said that he had no weapon of any kind, not even a snow ball.

Samuel Gray after Pelham/Revere

My interpretation of Samuel Gray, above, is a nod to Revere and makes use of my 1760-1780 American merchant seaman impression.   There will also be a new striped calimanco under jacket, but to see that you'll need to wait for pictures from the upcoming Massacre reenactment, Saturday March 5, 2016.