An engraving by Paul Revere depicting the Boston Massacre is, admittedly, somewhat sensationalized for effect.

      To this day no one really knows if Captain Preston shouted “fire!” or “hold your fire!” And in a sense it doesn’t matter. The situation had grown to an uncontrollable level, and violence was just about a certainty. Whatever words their captain employed, the soldiers let loose with a blaze of musket fire, and when the smoke cleared, five Bostonians lay dead or dying in the snow.

      Was the Boston Massacre the moment when the American Revolution became inevitable?

      It was pretty darned close. This is when British soldiers first fired on American civilians. Both sides were shocked, and appalled, but it demonstrates how high tensions had become. And, as most soldiers today will say, once blood-letting begins, it is difficult to stop.

      Who were the five people killed by British soldiers in Boston during March 1770, and how do we know so much about them?

      They were Samuel Gray, Samuel Maverick, James Caldwell, Patrick Carr, and Crispus Attucks. Of the five, Attucks is the best known. His name appears in all sorts of descriptions and depictions. He was a mulatto of Native American and African American descent.

      We know so much about these men and the night of the Boston Massacre because of the engraving Paul Revere made just three weeks later. Revere’s engraving contains numerous exaggerations and inaccuracies (he makes the Boston mob seem like only two dozen in number) but his vision of the event is what was seen by tens of thousands of colonists, up and down the East Coast. We also know a good deal about the British soldiers involved, and this thanks to their trial in Boston in the autumn of 1770.

      Were there two separate trials related to the Boston Massacre?

      Yes. Captain Preston had a six-day trial that resulted in his acquittal. The seven British soldiers were tried later. Six of them were found not guilty, and two others were found guilty of manslaughter. Privates Hugh Montgomery and Matthew Kilroy were found guilty of manslaughter, and sentenced to be branded on the thumb as punishment. Lieutenant-Governor Thomas Hutchinson had already arranged in advance, for anyone found guilty to receive a royal pardon, but this did not prevent the two soldiers from being burned on their left thumbs.

      It seems as if Boston could have gone up in flames in 1770. Why did this not happen?

      For once in their long lives, Sam Adams and Thomas Hutchinson saw things the same way. The two detested one another, but they worked together to prevent the Boston Massacre from becoming much worse. Within a matter of days, the two British regiments were taken out of the city and quartered on islands in Boston Harbor. Hutchinson and Sam Adams persuaded their relative constituencies to keep things quiet for the summer, and when the results of the Boston Massacre trials were announced, Bostonians seemed ready to let bygones be bygones.

      How long was it relatively quiet before violence erupted again?

      There were about two years of calm between 1771 and 1772 while Rhode Island took the lead in asserting patriot rights. When HMS Gaspee, a British revenue vessel, ran aground in Narragansett Bay, it was men from Providence that rowed out to attack, capture, and then burn her. King George III and his ministers were angry, but their officials could find no one to testify against the men of Providence, and the crime against the flag and His Majesty’s government went unpunished.

      Were Bostonians ready to relinquish the role they had so long played?

      They seemed willing to do so. But in the summer of 1773, Bostonians and other Americans learned of a new parliamentary act, legislation designed to save the East India Tea Company from bankruptcy. King George III and his ministers had miscalculated again.

      To save the East India Company, Parliament passed special legislation allowing the company to market its tea directly to the American colonists without it first arriving in London. This helped the company, and, the ministers argued, it helped the colonists who would receive their tea much more cheaply than before. But at the last minute, Frederick Lord North, the new British prime minister, slapped a special three pence tax per pound of tea. Lord North was warned by the Loyal Opposition in the House of Commons that the Americans would not overlook his action. He chose to take the risk.

      Was George III particularly ill-served by the members of his government?

      A peculiar combination of self-delusion and foolishness does seem to have descended on Lord North and his advisers. They knew the Americans had resisted the Stamp Act and the Townshend Acts, yet they went ahead and ruined the good results that attended the passage of the Tea Act.

      For once, Boston was not in the vanguard. Bostonians declared their dislike of the Tea Act, but it was the people of Philadelphia that shouted most loudly. Perhaps eight thousand people crowded in and around the Philadelphia State House in 1773 to protest the three-penny tax. And there was no doubt that the tax would be resisted. Boston did not seem likely to cause the most trouble, but, as so often, the Sons of Liberty became the most aggressive fighters for American liberty.

      Did Bostonians realize the consequence of defying the king and Parliament?

      They did not. They had successfully stopped the Stamp Act, and they thought they would get away with it again. When three ships arrived, carrying tea, Boston did not seize or impound the ships; rather, the Sons of Liberty placed a volunteer guard on the wharf, declaring that none of the tea would come ashore. Thomas Hutchinson, who had been promoted to full governor, was at his wits’ end. He believed he had to stand for royal authority on this occasion, and he therefore denied every effort the three ship captains made to head home for England.

The ship captains were in a very bad place. They would be blamed if the tea was not landed; on the other hand, they would be attacked if they made the attempt. Each time they applied for a special pass to depart Boston, Governor Hutchinson refused.

      On the afternoon of December 16, 1773, Sam Adams presided over a special town meeting of the citizens of Boston. Many arguments were heard, and Adams acted more impartially than was his usual style. As evening approached, a messenger arrived to say that Governor Hutchinson had denied the final request. The tea ships could not depart Boston, he said. Adams and his fellows knew that a special twenty-day deadline was about to expire, and that the British Royal Navy would soon be able to seize the tea, and, presumably, land it in town. Adams closed the meeting with memorable words: “This meeting can do nothing more to save this country,” he declared.

      When did the Tea Party—or the Destruction of the Tea—take place?

      Immediately. Just minutes after Adams uttered those words, war whoops were heard, and scores of men—most of them dressed as Mohawk Indians—were seen on the street, headed for Griffin’s Wharf. Arriving at the wharf, the 150-odd men boarded the three ships. No violence was offered to the sailors, but the chests of tea were brought to the main deck, broken open with hatchets, and the contents unceremoniously heaved into Boston Harbor. One aspect which is often overlooked is that the tide was low that evening, and that the tea settled on to the wharf area, stinking up the surroundings!

      Within ninety minutes,