“The account up to this time,” (October 30, 1768,) he wrote, “will end in my having employed myself from September nineteenth to October twenty-sixth, that is, thirty-eight days, in endeavoring to procure quarters for the two regiments here to no purpose.  For having during this time been bandied about from one to another, I at length got positive refusals from every one that I could apply to, that is, the Council, the Selectmen, and the Justices of the Peace; upon which the General, [Gage,] who came here on purpose, has found himself obliged to hire and fit up buildings at the expense of the Crown, by which means the two regiments are at length got into good occasional barracks.”

The new scene of an American States-General in Faneuil Hall,—­so the royal Governor and Parliamentary orators termed the Convention,—­a manifestation of the rising power of the people, was followed by the spectacle of an imposing naval force in the harbor.  The Sam Adams Regiments, sent on the mission of warring against the republican idea, were proudly borne to Boston by fifteen British men-of-war, which were moored (September 29) in well-chosen fighting positions around the north end of the quiet, but glorious town.  In the evening the curious Bostonians put out in their boats from the wharves to get a near view of the ships.  There were great rejoicings on board.  The sky was brilliant with the rockets that were shot off from the decks, and the air resounded with the music of the bands.  It was noticed that the favorite piece seemed to be “the Yankee tune”:  it was played by the regimental bands when Earl Percy led a British force out of Boston on Lexington morning, but no mention is made of its being performed when this force returned in the evening of that famous day, or when the Sam Adams Regiments left the town.

The King’s troops landed on the first day of October.  Though it had been printed in England that ten thousand men were enrolled to oppose them,—­though the local officials had predicted that the event would occasion a crisis in affairs,—­though John Bull had been so abominably imposed upon that he as much expected to see a mob resist the landing as he lately expected the mob would resist the delivery of the Confederate Commissioners,—­and though not merely ministerial circles, but all England, were looking forward with serious apprehensions to the result,—­yet the day was so tame that little history was made worth relating.  As the spectators on board the ships, about noon, were looking for a battle-scene, they saw only a naval and military show.  The ships of war were prepared for action by loading the guns and putting springs on the cables.  The troops, after sixteen rounds of powder and ball had been served out to them, entered the boats.  Rude artists were looking on, and sketching the peaceful display, setting down each boat and ship and island, with view undisturbed by the smoke of battle or even of salute.  They did not notice, however, that