You are one of six privates who go to White’s aid. Captain Preston and Corporal William Wemms march beside you. You carry a musket. It’s unloaded, but it has a fixed bayonet. When the crowd begins pushing, you use the bayonet to lightly jab anyone who gets too close.
You load your musket when you reach the sentry box. Preston orders White to join your formation. Preston then orders all of you to march back to the Main Guard.
But the crowd presses too close. You can’t move. You form a semicircle as you stand a body-width apart from one another. Preston is in front of you. “Go home,” he yells to the crowd.
People pelt him with snowballs and insults. “Fire!” the crowd yells. “Fire your guns!”
It’s a dare. Your finger itches to pull the trigger, but Preston told you not to fire. You tremble, both in anger and fear.
Someone throws a club at Private Hugh Montgomery, knocking him down. Boom! Private Montgomery’s gun goes off.
“Fire!” someone yells. Is it Preston? It must be.
You shoot into the crowd. More shots roar from the muskets of the other soldiers.
“Stop firing!” It’s Captain Preston. You put down your gun.
When the crowd clears, you see bodies in the street. Four? Five?
“What have we done?” you whisper in horror. Men are dead. Were they armed? Did they fire?
Preston marches you back to the Main Guard. He calls out the entire guard and positions groups of soldiers along King Street. You are prepared for another attack. But it never comes. The crowd leaves, and you return to the barracks.
You can’t sleep. You are still awake at 2:00 in the morning when Sheriff Stephen Greenleaf comes to arrest Captain Preston.
Early that morning, you and the other seven soldiers turn yourselves in to the authorities. You shiver in your jail cell. There will be a trial. If you’re found guilty, you could be sentenced to die. You hope that the colonists will treat you fairly and set you free.
