mansion opposite the Common, and so long as it lasted it was freely dispensed to the crowd. The dress of Hancock when at home is described as a "red velvet cap, within which was one of fine linen, the edge of this turned up over the velvet one, two or three inches. He wore a blue damask gown lined with silk, a white plaited stock, a white silk embroidered waistcoat, black silk small-clothes, white silk stockings and red morocco slippers." Adams was in marked contrast with Otis in temperament. The former, always cool and collected and his words based on deliberate reason, was the extreme of the other who carried his arguments in a flood of impetuous eloquence. "Otis was a flame of fire," says Sewall. But although Otis was once almost the ideal of the people, his erratic tendencies at last unfitted him for a leader.

One reason of Sam Adams' prestige with the masses was his common and familiar intercourse with mechanics and artisans. Hancock, Otis, Bowdoin and Curtis, on account of their wealth and ideas of aristocracy, kept more or less aloof from the workmen; while Adams, plainly clad and with familiar but dignified manner, was often found in the ship yards or at the rope walks engaged in earnest conversation with the homely craftsmen. Indeed, nothing pleased him more than to be talking with a ship carpenter as they sat side by side on a block of oak, or with some shopkeeper in a sheltered fence corner. Most of his writing was done in a little room in his Purchase Street house where night after night his busy mind and quill were kept at work on his trenchant letters for the "Gazette," which were signed with significant nom de plumes in Latin.

The year 1768 was made notable by the arrival in Boston from England of the 14th and the 29th regiments. The main guard was quartered in King (now State) Street, with the cannon pointed toward the State House, and the troops occupied various houses in the vicinity. In the next year the Governor, Bernard, was recalled, and Thomas Hutchinson, although remaining nominally lieutenant governor, became acting chief magistrate. He now appeared the most conspicuous figure among the royalists, and Samuel Adams became more distinctly the leader of the patriots. Neglecting all other affairs, he was content to live on a pittance, which he was enabled to do by a frugal and helpful wife.

Affairs were now approaching a crisis. A consignment of goods from England, sent in defiance of the non-importation agreements, was not allowed to land and had to be returned. One importer, a Scotchman, would not sign the agreements, so after much remonstrance, Samuel Adams arose in town meeting and grimly moved that the number present, about two thousand, should resolve itself into a committee of the whole, wait upon the obstinate merchant and use such persuasion as should be necessary to secure a compliance. But no vote was needed, for the Scotchman was present, and rushing to the front with knees trembling and in a squeaking voice, rolling his r's like a well-played drum, exclaimed:— "Mr. Mode-r-r-rater, I agr-r-ree, I agr-r-ree!" greatly to the amusement of the people.

It was early in the next year, 1770, that the hostility between towns-people and soldiers led for the first time to the shedding of blood. In February a boy, Christopher Snyder, was shot and killed during a disturbance, and in March occurred the "Boston Massacre." The story has been many times told. Quarrels had grown frequent between the soldiers and the rope-walk hands, the soldiers usually getting the worst of it. On the evening of the 5th, an altercation began just below the Old State House, between the sentinel of the guard and a crowd of townsfolk. An alarm was rung from one of the steeples, and many citizens hurried to the place, most of them thinking that a fire had broken out. A sentry was at the corner of King and Exchange streets, where the Custom House stood, and he was assaulted by the boys with snowballs. Captain Preston with seven or eight men rushed to the scene, loaded their muskets and made ready to fire. The mob hooted, struck their muskets and dared them to fire. At last a volley came. Three were killed and eight wounded. At once there was a tumult. The bells were all rung and the populace hurried to and fro. The bodies of the slain lay on the ground which was sprinkled with a light snow, serving to plainly reveal in the clear moon-light the stains of blood.