GAIL DRAKE: Defense attorney for the shooters: Our second president

Do justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly with thy God. — Micah 6:8

The moon rose on the snow-covered streets of Boston. A lone soldier stood at his post in front of the Custom House, shivering. Then a small band of boys walked by and started to taunt the soldier — cursing, jeering, throwing snowballs.

Suddenly a distant fire alarm rang and people started pouring into the streets. A crowd formed in front of the Custom House, hundreds of angry men with sticks and clubs. The lone soldier was quickly joined by seven other soldiers with loaded muskets and bayonets and their captain with a drawn sword. Shouting, cursing, the crowd pelted the soldiers with stones, snowballs, chunks of ice and seashells. “Kill them, kill them!” yelled out a voice. One soldier was knocked down with a club, then hit again.

In the struggle the soldiers suddenly opened fire, killing five men.

Local politicians quickly decried the “bloody butchery” and distributed drawings of the scene from March 5, 1770, forever known as the “Boston Massacre.”

The next day British officials approached respected young Boston attorney John Adams to defend the soldiers. No other lawyer would take the case.

This same John Adams, five years before, had adamantly opposed the Stamp Act. Passed by the British Parliament to fund Britain’s war with France, the Stamp Act imposed on colonists — without their consent — a costly tax on everything written or printed on paper including newspapers, legal documents, advertisements, even playing cards. Boston mobs, “like devils let loose,” had attacked the governor’s residence and other buildings. In response, Adams had published a widely circulated essay — not a call to mob action, which he described as an “atrocious violation of the peace.” Instead he detailed a clear strong statement about firmly established freedoms founded in British law. “Liberty must at all hazards be supported. We have a right to it, derived from our Maker.” Like other statesmen, he achieved his goal with a pen rather than a mob.

Adams considered briefly, then he took the case.

Why would a civil rights lawyer, from 250 years ago, agree to represent law enforcement officers who had fired on civilian protesters? After all, this case would risk his reputation and livelihood. Because then, as now, the virtuous lawyer is firm in his/her belief that no one in a free country should be denied rights, including the right to counsel and a fair trial — even for hated British soldiers.

Adams requested the trials be delayed so passions could cool. In the December trial, Adams delivered his famed closing argument.

“I am for the prisoners,” he began, then cited details of the event, the screaming “rabble” who pelted the soldier with “every species of rubbish.” He believed the incident was instigated by the mob, not the soldiers. “The plain English is, gentlemen, [it was] most probably a motley rabble of saucy boys. … And why should we [hesitate] to call such a people a mob, I can’t conceive, unless the name is too respectable for them?” He defined the soldiers’ acts as self-defense, a primary right of British and natural law.

“Facts are stubborn things,” he told the jury, “and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations or the dictums of our passions, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.” It was better that guilty persons escape punishment, he stated, than one innocent person be wrongfully punished, because “innocence should be protected.”

The jury acquitted six soldiers and found two guilty of manslaughter, for which they were branded on their thumbs.

John Adams, well-known for his integrity, went on to become one of the most influential leaders in the American Revolution. He served in the Continental Congress, helped draft the Declaration of Independence and negotiated the peace agreement with Britain. He was elected vice president for two terms under George Washington, then elected our nation’s second president. He built up the U.S. Navy, peacefully resolved a “quasi-war” with France, opened the Library of Congress, and appointed his trusted colleague John Marshall as Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court. He deplored slavery and feared it would bitterly divide the nation. He was described by his friend — and arch-rival — Thomas Jefferson as “the colossus of independence.”

With composed manners, clear thinking and the pen, our second president navigated our nation through the tempestuous days of its birth and infancy. On this Independence Day 2020, let us stop to honor our founding fathers, and consider their legacy and wisdom so we can continue to enjoy the blessings of virtue and liberty in our land.