The meeting next voted to invite any citizen to give information of the massacre of the preceding evening, “that the same might be minuted by the town-clerk”; whereupon several persons related details of the tragedy. One said he heard a soldier, after the firing, say, that “the Devil might give quarter, he should give none”; another said he heard a soldier say, that “his officer told him, that, if the soldiers went out that night, they must go armed and in companies”; another related a soldier’s story of a scheme formed to kill the inhabitants; another said, he “descried a soldier who struck down the inhabitants.” These homely words are life-like glimpses of the spirit of the hour. No speech could have been more eloquent, because none could have been better calculated to deepen the general conviction and minister to the common emotion. However, so many witnesses were ready to testify, that it was found to be impracticable to hear all; and a committee was appointed to receive and digest the evidence.
Samuel Adams addressed this remarkable meeting. He spoke with a pathos peculiar to himself. His manner, naturally impressive, was rendered more so by the solemnity of the occasion, and every heart was moved. The great hour demanded dignity and discretion in unison with firmness, and they were combined in the action of the meeting. It resolved that the inhabitants would submit no longer to the insult of military rule. A committee of fifteen was chosen to wait on the Lieutenant-Governor, and acquaint him that it was the unanimous opinion of the meeting that the inhabitants and soldiery could no longer dwell together in safety, and that nothing could be rationally expected to restore the peace of the town and prevent