Then from out the yard of the inn was dragged the cart. No horses
were fastened to it. The young men of the city dragged it out and
pushed it along. The silent, grim-faced guardians walked in front.
As it reached the square the crowd sent up a groaning cry, and
opened right and left for the dreadful load to be set in position
before the windows of the great room where the Assembly had met.

Then the cover was thrown back, and yells and cries arose from all.
Shouts were raised for the Assembly to come and look at their work.

There was no resisting the mandate of the crowd. White and
trembling, the members of the Assembly were had out upon the steps,
and forced to look at the bodies of their victims. The crowd
hooted, groaned, yelled with maddened fury. The advocates of peace
shrank into themselves, appalled at the evidences of barbarities
they had sought to believe exaggerated. It was useless now to
attempt to deny the truth of what had been reported.

Back they slunk into the Assembly House, white and trembling, and
for the moment cowed. The cart was moved on, and stopped in front
of house after house where notable Quakers dwelt who were not
members of the Assembly. They were called to come to their windows
and look, and were greeted with hisses and curses.

The very next day a paper, under preparation by a number of the
leading citizens at the suggestion of the Governor, was presented
to the Assembly under the title of a "Representation." It contained
a stern appeal for the organization of measures of defence, and
ended by the dignified and significant words: