The Yankee Tea-party; Or, Boston in 1773Watson, Henry C. (Henry Clay)
History
The Yankee Tea-party; Or, Boston in 1773
Watson, Henry C. (Henry Clay)
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Anecdotes
"He had before suspected that the fellow knew him, and now doubts were
changed to certainty at once. Dark as it was, it seemed as if fire
flashed from his eye, now he felt that revenge was within his power. Lee
was as brave as any officer in the army; but he was unarmed; and though
he was strong, his adversary was still more powerful. While he stood,
uncertain what to do, the fellow seemed enjoying the prospect of
revenge, as he looked on him with a steady eye. Though the officer stood
to appearance unmoved, the sweat rolled in heavy drops from his brow.
Lee soon took his resolution, and sprang upon his adversary with the
intention of wresting the pistol from his hand; but the other was upon
his guard, and aimed with such precision that, had the pistol been
charged with a bullet, that moment would have been his last. But it
seemed that the conductor had trusted to the sight of his weapons to
render them unnecessary, and had therefore only loaded them with powder.
As it was, the shock threw Lee to the ground; but fortunately, as the
fellow dropped the pistol, it fell where Lee reached it; and as his
adversary stooped, and was drawing his knife from his bosom, Lee was
able to give him a stunning blow. He immediately threw himself upon the
assassin, and a long and bloody struggle began. They were so nearly
matched in strength and advantage, that neither dared unclench his hold
for the sake of grasping the knife. The blood gushed from their mouths,
and the combat would have probably ended in favour of the assassin--when
steps and voices were heard advancing, and they found themselves in the
hands of a party of countrymen, who were armed for the occasion, and
were scouring the banks of the river. They were forcibly torn apart, but
so exhausted and breathless that neither could make an explanation; and
they submitted quietly to their captors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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