But at about fifteen minutes past nine, an excited party passed up Royal Exchange Lane, (now Exchange Street,) leading into King Street; and as they came near the Custom-House, on the corner, one of the number, who knew of the assault on the apprentice-boy, said, “Here is the soldier who did it,” when they gathered round the sentinel.  The barber’s boy now came up and said, “This is the soldier who knocked me down with the butt-end of his musket.”  Some now said, “Kill him! knock him down!” The sentinel moved back up the steps of the Custom-House, and loaded his gun.  Missiles were thrown at him, when he presented his musket, warned the party to keep off, and called for help.  Some one ran to Captain Preston, the officer of the day, and informed him that the people were about to assault the sentinel, when he hastened to the main guard, on the opposite side of the street, about forty rods from the Custom-House, and sent from here a sergeant, a very young officer, with a file of seven men, to protect the sentinel.  They went over in a kind of trot, using rough words and actions towards those who went with them, and, coming near the party round the sentinel, rudely pushed them aside, pricking some with their bayonets, and formed in a half-circle near the sentry-box.  The sentinel now came down the steps and fell in with the file, when they were ordered to prime and load.  Captain Preston almost immediately joined his men.  The file now numbered nine.

The number of people here at this time is variously estimated from thirty to a hundred,—­“between fifty and sixty” being the most common statement.  Some of them were fresh from the affray at the barracks, and some of the soldiers had been in the affair at the ropewalks.  There was aggravation on both sides.  The crowd were unarmed, or had merely sticks, which they struck defiantly against each other,—­having no definite object, and doing no greater mischief than, in retaliation of uncalled-for military roughness, to throw snowballs, hurrah, whistle through their fingers, use oaths and foul language, call the soldiers names, hustle them, and dare them to fire.  One of the file was struck with a stick.  There were good men trying to prevent a riot, and some assured the soldiers that they would not be hurt.  Among others, Henry Knox, subsequently General, was present, who saw nothing to justify the use of fire-arms, and, with others, remonstrated against their employment; but Captain Preston, as he was talking with Knox, saw his men pressing the people with their bayonets, when, in great agitation, he rushed in among them.  Then, with or without orders, but certainly without any legal form or warning, seven of the file, one after another, discharged their muskets upon the citizens; and the result indicates the malignity and precision of their aim.  Crispus Attucks, an intrepid mulatto, who was a leader in the affair at Murray’s Barracks, was killed as he stood leaning and resting his breast