Part 16 (1/2)

”Good-night, all. Thank you, Mr. Walden, for all your kindness,” her parting words.

VIII.

CHRISTOPHER SNIDER.

The night-watchman of the North End of Boston, with overcoat b.u.t.toned to the chin and a m.u.f.fler around his neck, a fur cap drawn down over his ears to exclude the biting frost of midwinter, was going his rounds. He saw no revelers in the streets, nor belated visitors returning to their homes.

If suitors were calling upon their ladies, the visits were ended long before the clock on the Old Brick struck the midnight hour. No voice broke the stillness of the night. The watchman scarcely heard his own footsteps in the newly fallen snow as he slowly made his way along Middle Street,[37] with his lantern and staff. He was not expecting to encounter a burglar, breaking and entering a shop, store, or residence. He heard the clock strike once more, and was just pursing his lips to cry, ”Two o'clock, and all's well,” when he caught a glimpse of a figure in front of Theophilus Lillie's store.[38] Was it a burglar? The man was standing stock-still, as if scanning the premises. The watchman dodged back behind the building on the corner of the street, hid his lantern, and peered slyly at the thief, who was still looking at the store. What was the meaning of such mysterious inaction? The watchman, instead of waiting to catch the culprit in the act of breaking and entering, stepped softly forward. Grasping his staff with a firm grip, to give a sudden whack, should the villain turn upon him,--”What ye 'bout, sir!” he shouted.

[Footnote 37: The section of the present Hanover Street east of Blackstone Street was called Middle Street.]

[Footnote 38: Mr. Theophilus Lillie was one of the six merchants who refused to sign the a.s.sociation paper not to import goods from England, thereby making himself exceedingly obnoxious to the people.

Other merchants had agreed not to make any importation, and had violated the agreement.]

The burglar did not reply, neither turn his head.

”Is the fellow dead, I wonder--frozen stiff, this bitter night, and standing still?” the question that flashed through the watchman's brain.

”Bless my soul! It's Mr. Lillie's head,--his nose, mouth, chin. Looks just like him. And the post is set in the ground. I'll bet that carving is Abe Duncan's work. n.o.body can carve like him. But what is it here for? Ah! I see. Lillie has gone back on his agreement not to import tea. The Sons of Liberty have rigged it up to guy him. Ha, ha!”

The watchman laughed to himself as he examined the figure.

”Well, that's a cute job,” he said reflectively. ”The ground is frozen stiff a foot deep. They had to break it with a crowbar, but not a sound did I hear. Shall I say anything about it? Will not the selectmen make a fuss if I don't notify 'em at once? But what's the use of knocking 'em up at two o'clock in the morning? The thing's done. 'Taint my business to pull it up. The post won't run away. I'll report what time I found it.”

Remembering that he had not cried the hour, he shouted:--

”Two o'clock, all's well!”

He secreted himself in a doorway awhile, to see if any one would appear, but no one came.

The early risers--the milkmen and bakers' apprentices going their rounds, shop boys on their way to kindle fires in stores--all stopped to look at the figure. The news quickly spread. People left their breakfast-tables to see the joke played on Mr. Lillie. Ebenezer Richardson, however, could not see the fun of the thing. The schoolboys called him ”Poke Nose” because he was ever ready to poke into other people's affairs.[39] The officers of the Custom House employed him to ferret out goods smuggled ash.o.r.e by merchants, who, regarding the laws as unjust and oppressive, had no scruples in circ.u.mventing the customs officers. Richardson hated the Sons of Liberty, and haunted the Green Dragon to spy out their actions.

[Footnote 39: The offensive and unjust laws and acts and ordinances of the Board of Trade in enforcing the collection of customs dues had brought about systematic effort to circ.u.mvent the Custom House officials, who employed spies and informers to ferret out fraudulent transactions. Smuggling was regarded as a virtue, and outwitting the officials a duty rather than an offense. Ebenezer Richardson, by his service to the Custom House officials, made himself obnoxious to the community. An account of the incidents that led to the shooting of Christopher Snider may be found in the newspapers of March, 1770.]

”This is their work,” he said to those around the figure. ”It's outrageous. Mr. Lillie has just as good a right to sell tea as anything else, without having everybody pointing their fingers at him.

It's an insult. It's disgraceful. Whoever did it ought to be trounced.”

”Charcoal! Charcoal! Hard and soft charcoal!”

It was the cry of the charcoal-man, turning from Union into Middle Street.

”I'll get him to run his sled against it and knock it over,” said Mr.

Richardson to himself.

Slowly the charcoal vender advanced.

Seeing the post and the group of people around it, he reined in his old horse and looked at the figure.