"An Indian yell was heard from the street. Mr. Samuel Adams cried out that it was a trick of their enemies to disturb the meeting, and requested the people to keep their places, but the people rushed out and accompanied the Indians to the ships. The number of persons disguised as Indians is variously stated,--none put it lower than sixty, nor higher than eighty. The destruction was effected by them, and some young men who volunteered. One of the latter collected the tea which fell into the shoes of himself and companions, and put it in a phial and sealed it up,--now in his possession.... The hall of council is said to have been in the back room of Edes' printing-office, at the corner of the alley leading to Brattle Street Church, from Court Street." In 1827, Joshua Wyeth, of Cincinnati, related the following particulars of the affair to Rev. Timothy Flint. Wyeth, then sixteen years old, was a journeyman blacksmith in the employ of Watson and Gridley. He says: "Our numbers were between twenty-eight and thirty. Of my associates I only remember the names of Frothingham, Mead, Martin and Grant. Many of them were apprentices and journeymen, not a few, as was the case with myself, living with Tory masters. I had but a few hours warning of what was intended to be done. We first talked of firing the ships, but feared the fire would communicate to the town. We then proposed sinking them, but dropped that project through fear that we should alarm the town before we could get through with it. We had observed that very few persons remained on board the ships, and we finally concluded that we could take possession of them, and discharge the tea into the harbor without danger or opposition. One of the ships laid at the wharf, the others a little way out in the stream, with their warps made fast to the wharf. To prevent discovery, we agreed to wear ragged clothes and disfigure ourselves, dressing to resemble Indians as much as possible, smearing our faces with grease and lamp black or soot, and should not have known each other except by our voices. Our most intimate friends among the spectators had not the least knowledge of us. We surely resembled devils from the bottomless pit rather than men. At the appointed time we met in an old building at the head of the wharf, and fell in one after another, as if by accident, so as not to excite suspicion. We placed a sentry at the head of the wharf, another in the middle, and one on the bow of each ship as we took possession. We boarded the ship moored by the wharf, and our leader, in a very stern and resolute manner, ordered the captain and crew to open the hatchways, and hand us the hoisting tackle and ropes, assuring them that no harm was intended them. The captain asked what we intended to do. Our