Caldwell, strangers in the city, without relatives, were buried from
Faneuil Hall, so justly called "_the Cradle of Liberty_." The four
hearses formed a junction in King Street; and from thence the
procession moved in columns six deep, with a long line of coaches
containing the first citizens of Boston. The obsequies were witnessed
by a very large and respectful concourse of people. The bodies were
deposited in one grave, over which a stone was placed bearing this
inscription:--

"Long as in Freedom's cause the wise contend,
Dear to your country shall your fame extend;
While to the world the lettered stone shall tell
Where Caldwell, Attucks, Gray and Maverick fell."

Who was Crispus Attucks? A Negro whose soul, galling under the
destroying influence of slavery, went forth a freeman, went forth not
only to fight for _his_ liberty, but to give his life as an offering
upon the altar of _American liberty_. He was not a madcap, as some
would have the world believe. He was not ignorant of the issues
between the American colonies and the English government, between the
freemen of the colony and the dictatorial governors. Where he was
during the twenty years from 1750 to 1770, is not known; but doubtless
in Boston, where he had heard the fiery eloquence of Otis, the
convincing arguments of Sewall, and the tender pleadings of Belknap.
He had learned to spell out the fundamental principles that should
govern well-regulated communities and states; and, having come to the
rapturous consciousness of his freedom in fee simple, the brightest
crown God places upon mortal man, he felt himself neighbor and friend.
His patriotism was not a mere spasm produced by sudden and exciting
circumstances. It was an education; and knowledge comes from
experience; and the experience of this black hero was not of a single
day. Some time before the memorable 5th of March, Crispus addressed
the following spirited letter to the Tory governor of the Province:--

"TO THOMAS HUTCHINSON: _Sir_,--You will hear from us with
astonishment. You ought to hear from us with horror. You are
chargeable before God and man, with our blood. The soldiers
were but passive instruments, mere machines; neither moral
nor voluntary agents in our destruction, more than the
leaden pellets with which we were wounded. You was a free
agent. You acted, coolly, deliberately, with all that
premeditated malice, not against u