Question: Were the Bostonians in the 1760s and 1770s a petulant, childlike bunch who provoked British soldiers into firing upon them–only to shamelessly use the “Boston Massacre” incident as propaganda?
What do the textbooks say? The textbooks, whether intentionally or not, certainly do communicate this negative image of these New Englanders. The Enduring Vision (Houghton Mifflin, 6th ed.) specifically highlights two causes of Bostonian ire: (1) Protestant bigotry towards Irish Catholics, as many of the British soldiers were of the latter persuasion, and (2) frustration that many of the soldiers, free to seek employment while off-duty, competed with them for work. The book does mention the death of “an eleven-year-old boy” at the hands of a customs informer on 22 February, 1770. The Boston Massacre, the textbook declares, occurred when “an officer tried to disperse the civilians [but] his men endured a steady barrage of flying objects and dares to shoot. A private finally did fire, after having been knocked down by a block of ice, and then shouted, ‘Fire! Fire!’ to his fellow soldiers” (p. 148). The scene is thus painted as entirely provoked by the rabid crowd. Or observe the tone of the following, from Nation of Nations (McGraw-Hill, 3rd ed.), p. 135:
British troops found themselves regularly cursed by citizens and occasionally pelted with stones, dirt, and human excrement. The British regulars were particularly unpopular among Boston’s laboring classes because they competed with them for jobs…
With some 4000 redcoats enduring daily contact with some 15,000 Bostonians under the sway of Samuel Adams, what happened on the night of March 5, 1770, was nearly inevitable. A crowd gathered around the customhouse for the sport of heckling its guard of 10 soldiers. The redcoats panicked and fended off insults and snowballs with live fire, hitting 11 rioters and killing 5. Labeling the bloodshed “the Boston Massacre,” Adams and other propagandists publicized that “atrocity” throughout the colonies.
According to this narrative, then, the Bostonians were an easily swayed homogenous mass prone to flinging feces, and they were gathered on the night of March 5th for no other purpose than to “heckle” the British soldiers. The deaths that followed, the narrative continues, were inaccurately labeled a “massacre” and used, somewhat shamelessly, by Samuel Adams and others–all “propagandists,” after all.
Created Equal (Prentice Hall, Brief 3rd ed.), while commendably underscoring Real Whig beliefs that “any appearance by a standing army in peacetime constituted danger,” mostly highlights the rage of the Bostonian unemployed laborer whose jobs were being taken by off-duty, moonlighting soldiers. The textbook blames the Massacre on an earlier “run-in” the same day between “local workers and job-seeking soldiers,” a confrontation that was subsequently taken to the customs house, where a crowd gathered. “When a harassed sentry struck a boy with his rifle butt, angry witnesses pelted the guard with snowballs.” The British soldiers pressed against the crowed, fixing their bayonets, as Boston’s firebells “summoned more townspeople to the scene.” Then appeared a mob of angry sailors, led by Crispus Attucks, brandishing sticks and pushing their way to the front of the crowd. “In the mayhem, a British gun went off, prompting a volley of fire from the other soldiers.” Paul Revere’s subsequent engraving the of the event was “inflammatory.”
Answer: As can be clearly observed from the accounts presented above, the order of events, the events themselves, and the details surrounding them differ widely from textbook to textbook. What is consistent, however, is the conveyance of a certain petulance on the part of the Bostonians, as well as a child-like resentment that easily boils over into brazen hostility. The British troops that fired into the crowd are depicted as innocent victims of the clamoring multitudes. What the textbooks leave out is most of what led up to the Massacre, its real purpose, and perhaps its real perpetrators.
In the eyes of many a Bostonian, the situation in their city from 1768 amounted to nothing less than a foreign occupation. As they saw it, they were thus justified–even bound by duty and honor–in struggling and otherwise agitating for the troops’ removal. Each week, the Boston Gazette published an account of the troops’ alleged brutalities and atrocities, adding to that resentment. Of course, while the textbooks are happy to include details of Bostonian excrement-tossing, absent are accounts of any wrongdoing on the part of the soldiers, many of which, one dares say, far surpassed the flinging of poo on the scales of injustice.
Considering the importance of the Boston Massacre in American history (John Adams: “On that night the foundation of American independence was laid”), the varieties of its telling (and their contradictions with one another) are curious. And since most textbooks leave out several important details concerning the event’s lead-up, crucial context is typically missing in the incident’s attempted retelling. Most of the following details tend not to make it into the textbooks:
- It must be remembered that the Bostonians had suffered through a year-and-a-half of military occupation, with roughly one British soldier in their midst for every four city locals. Where are the charges leveled against the soldiers by the citizenry of Boston? These were thoroughly documented by the Sons of Liberty, and while there are surely exaggerations, certainly not every account of British atrocity is worthy of omission…
- Bostonian merchants had been engaged in a non-importation movement (one that hurt many of them financially) against British goods for quite some time. There were a handful of holdouts, and these were very unpopular. Perhaps the only ones hated more than the British soldiers occupying their city were these “traitorous” holdouts, the customs officials, and their informers.
- Less than two weeks before the Boston Massacre, two eleven-year-old boys were shot by just such a customs informer. A crowd, led by some schoolboys, had gathered outside the house of one of the last individuals refusing to take part in the non-importation movement (Theophilus Lillie), in order to to protest his decision. The customs informer, named Ebenezer Richardson, fired repeatedly into the crowd. One of the two boys he shot, young Christopher Snider, died. Richardson was subsequently tried and found guilty of murder–only to be pardoned by the Crown and allowed to escape from the country by the authorities.
- Perhaps the grief and the rage of Boston was best expressed in the funeral procession of Christopher Snider: it stretched two miles long (Rothbard speculates that it may have been the longest in American history). The American Revolution had its first martyr.
- All of this (the murder of Snider and the Bostonian desperation for justice) was why soldiers were to be found, on the night of 5 March, guarding the customhouse (and the commissioners inside) on King Street. It was the commissioners, after all, who had brought the troops to Boston in the first place.
- Several events that same day increased the already tense atmosphere pervading the city: an insulting handbill printed by the British troops that morning, a fist fight between rope workers and soldiers that culminated in a minor riot, and the assault by a British soldier on a boy who had been taunting the troops (the soldier struck the boy with the butt of his musket).
- When the crowd gathered at King Street, several in the crowd recognized the soldier who had struck the boy earlier; he was one of the sentries. Immediately snowballs, sticks, and broken ice began to fly in his direction. It was at this juncture that the customs officials within the customhouse called for Captain Preston and his troops.
- As Captain Preston and his soldiers pushed through the crowd in answer to the commissioners’ summons, they pricked the Bostonians with their fixed bayonets; reacting, the crowd pressed in on them all the more. One of the soldiers dropped his gun, and the others fired into the crowd.
- Critically, the customs officials, firing from “the privileged sanctuary of the upper floor of the customhouse,” in the words of Rothbard, joined in the killing.
- The next day the Bostonians, instead of falling on the troops, embarking on a killing spree, or rioting…called a town meeting. Samuel Adams and John Hancock were selected to bring the demands of the people to the governor. This they did, and in the end the troops were removed, satisfying the meeting’s first demand. But the second–for justice to be meted out on the Massacre’s perpetrators–was not.
- First, the trial of Preston and his troops was delayed for seven months. Then an entire jury was assembled, completely made up of non-Bostonians. Preston and most of the soldiers were acquitted, and the two that weren’t (convicted of manslaughter) were merely branded on the hand. Perhaps this is because the angle of some of the bullets that killed their targets were shown to have come from above–from the upper story of the customhouse, in fact, where the customs officials had joined in the shootings. (For this last, see the work of Oliver Dickerson). Of course, these officials, who may have been responsible for the bulk of the killing, were never brought to justice. And what of the judges that weighed five deaths by shooting to be equal to two hand brandings? They left Boston–and were paid, writes Rothbard, “a handsome reward by the Crown for their patriotic work.”
Surely these critical details paint the Boston Massacre in a different light than the one employed currently in the average textbook.
References:
1. Murray N. Rothbard, Conceived in Liberty (Auburn: Ludwig von Mises Institute, 2000).

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