Martha Finley

Evelyn Leland was the only one of the party on the "Dolphin" who had never seen Boston; but to all the young people entering the city from the sea was a new experience, and as the vessel neared the harbour they gazed about them with great interest, while the Captain pointed out and named the forts and the islands as they came into view.

"Yonder is Boston Light," he said, "two miles east of Fort Warren,—on George's Island, which I will point out presently; it is a revolving light, ninety-two feet above the level of the sea. And yonder is Spit or Bug Light; it is only thirty-five feet high, and stands upon iron pillars fixed in the rock. They show a red fixed light there which can be seen at the distance of seven miles.

"Then there is Long Island Light, named from the island on which it stands. The tower is only twenty-two feet above the ground, but eighty feet above the sea.

"Yonder," again pointing with his finger, "is Fort Independence (called in Revolutionary times Castle William) just at the entrance of the main channel; and opposite it is Fort Winthrop. And yonder is George's Island with its fortification,—Fort Warren."

"And this was the harbour where the Boston Tea-party was held!" remarked Evelyn, in a half-musing tone. "What an exciting time that must have been! I think it was grand in the people to give up the tea they so enjoyed drinking, rather than submit to 'taxation without representation.'"

"Which all women possessed of landed property do to this day," returned Rosie, mischievously.

Eva laughed. "Oh, well," she said, "you know American women can influence the voters to whom they are related,—their brothers, husbands, and sons."

"If they have any, and they happen to be particularly tractable," laughed Rosie. "But how about poor fatherless and brotherless single women? The men may vote as heavy taxes upon their property as they please, while they can't lift a finger to prevent it, or say a word as to what is to be done with the money taken from their purses without their consent."

"Why, Rosie, are you turning into a woman's rights woman?" queried Max, laughing.

"I don't know, Maxie; those ideas just happened to suggest themselves," she answered. "I'll take time to think it all out one of these days, though; and I'll not promise not to turn into an advocate of women's right to have some say about the taxing of their own property. I see no reason why a man's rights in that direction should be considered superior to a woman's."

"No; nor I either," Max said. "And I'm as willing as possible that American women should have all their rights; but I shouldn't like to let ignorant women—foreign or coloured ones—vote."

"Yes, that's the trouble," laughed Rosie; "I shouldn't like that either. But I can't see that it's any better to let foreign men who are too ignorant to understand much or anything about our institutions, have a vote. I must say it strikes me as exceedingly insulting to educated, intelligent ladies, who are native Americans, to refuse a vote to them, and at the same time give it to such foreign-born men, or to male natives who know nothing, can't read or write, and have no property at all."

"Coloured men, for instance?" queried Max.

"Yes, coloured or white; it's the education I'm concerned about, not the colour. Mamma, do not you agree with me?"

"Yes, I do," Mrs. Travilla answered. "I have no desire to vote myself; but I think only native-born citizens, or those who have been twenty-one years in the country, should have a vote, and not even they unless able to read and write, capable of understanding our form of government, and possessed of some little property,—that last in order that they may appreciate more fully the burdens of taxation, and be less ready to make them heavier than need be."

"Papa," asked Gracie, "where abouts were the tea ships when the folks went on board and threw the tea into the water?"

"They were moored at Griffin's Wharf," he replied; "I can point it out to you directly."

"What is it, Papa, Gracie's talking about? A story?" queried little Elsie. "Please, Papa, tell it to us."

"I'm afraid you would hardly understand, Papa's darling," the Captain said, stroking the soft, shining, golden curls as he spoke, and smiling down into the bright, eager little face.

"I think I should, Papa. Wasn't it something 'bout a tea-party?" she asked coaxingly.

"Yes, Papa, please do tell the story; we'd all like to hear it over again now when we're just at the place where it happened," added Gracie.

"Well, my darlings, to please you," he said; "also because I want you to be thoroughly grounded in the history of your own country.

"You must remember that these States,—or rather the original thirteen, there were only so many at that time,—were then called colonies, and were ruled by England. The English Government claimed the right to tax the colonies just as they pleased. That right the people of the colonies denied.

"They were not allowed to send any members to Parliament to help decide who in America should be taxed and how much; so they determined that rather than pay a tax put upon the article without their knowledge and consent, they would do without tea.

"Then the English Government tried to force it on them; and these ships came into their harbour loaded with the tea, which they intended to land.

"One of those tea-laden ships, called the 'Dartmouth,'—Captain Hall in command,—came to anchor yonder, near the Castle, as it was then called. It was on Sunday the 'Dartmouth' came in; and as you may suppose, the sight of her caused a great excitement in Boston.

"Early on Monday morning a placard was posted all over the town. I committed it to memory when a school-boy. It said:—

"'Friends! Brethren! Countrymen! That worst of plagues, the detested tea shipped for this port by the East India Company, is now arrived in the harbor; the Hour of Destruction, or manly opposition to the Machinations of Tyranny, stares you in the face; every Friend to his Country, to himself, and to Posterity, is now called upon to meet at Faneuil Hall, at nine o'clock This Day (at which time the bells will ring), to make united and successful resistance to this last, worst, and most destructive measure of administration.'

"That was the handbill; its date was November 29, 1773."

"Was that the 'vite to the tea-party?" asked little Elsie.

"Not to what proved to be the principal one," he answered.

"In response to the call they met that day at Faneuil Hall, but the excitement was so great and brought so many people together that they adjourned to the Old South Meeting-house which was larger.

"At that meeting it was resolved that the tea should not be landed, that no duty should be paid on it, and that it should be sent back in the same vessel it had come in; also they notified the owner and the commander of the vessel that to land and enter the tea was at their own peril, ordered the ship to be moored at Griffin's Wharf, and appointed a guard of twenty-five men to watch her.

"At the meeting a letter was received from the consignees offering to store the tea till they could hear from England; but the people were determined not to allow it to be landed, so rejected the offer with scorn.

"Then the sheriff read a proclamation from the governor ordering them to disperse; but it was received with hisses, and they went on with the business that had called them together.

"They passed a resolution ordering the vessels of Captains Coffin and Bruce, which were hourly expected to arrive with their loads of tea, to be moored at Griffin's Wharf."

"Did they come, Papa? and did the men watch all the ships that had tea?" asked Elsie, who was listening with a look of interest and intelligence that seemed to say she understood a great deal, if not all her father had been saying.

"Yes; and about two weeks afterward another meeting was held in the Old South Church, when it was resolved that Mr. Roch must immediately apply for a clearance for his ship and send her out to sea again. But the governor had already taken measures to prevent him from doing that, ordering Admiral Montague to fit out two armed vessels and station them at the entrance to the harbour, and Colonel Leslie, who was in command of the Castle, not to allow any vessel to pass out under the guns of the fortress, unless she could show a permission signed by himself."

"I should think," remarked Max, "that Mr. Roch and Captain Hall must have been quite puzzled to know how to act to suit all parties."

"What happened next, Papa?" asked Gracie.

"Two days later there was another meeting in the Old South,—the largest meeting that had then ever been known in Boston; for the people were greatly excited.

"Several persons made addresses, but Josiah Quincy was the principal speaker. He advised the people to weigh and consider before they took measures that would bring on a trying and terrible struggle such as had never been seen in this country."

"Why, Papa," exclaimed Lulu, "I thought Mr. Quincy was one of the patriots!"

"So he was, my child; but he wanted the people to look before they leaped.

"When he had finished his speech the question was put, 'Will you abide by your former resolutions with respect to not suffering the tea to be landed?'"

"And what did they say?" asked Gracie.

"That they would; the whole vast assembly speaking as with one voice."

"I hope Mr. Roch was there to hear them," said Lulu.

"No," said her father. "The governor was at his country-house, a few miles out of Boston, and Mr. Roch had been sent to him to ask a permit for his vessel to leave the harbour.

"He returned late in the afternoon, before the meeting at the Old South had broken up, and reported to them that the governor refused a permit until a clearance should be shown him; and the collector refused that until the tea should be landed."

"What a fuss about nothing!" exclaimed little Elsie, with a look of disgust.

"Oh, no," her father said, stroking her hair as she leaned upon his knee; "some day when my little girl is older and wiser, she will understand that it was very far from being about nothing.

"The people were very much excited. It was beginning to grow dark in the old church and somebody called for candles; but just then somebody in the gallery showed himself disguised like a Mohawk Indian, raised the Indian war-whoop, and was answered in the same fashion by some one outside the building,—for the throng a good deal more than filled the church; then another voice in the gallery shouted, 'Boston harbour a teapot to-night! Hurrah for Griffin's Wharf!'

"At that there was an instant motion to adjourn, and the people crowded into the streets.

"It was a clear, moonlight evening, still quite early, and the British squadron not more than a mile away; British troops were near too, but neither interfered with what was going on.

"It is probable that everything had been arranged beforehand; and seeing several persons disguised as Indians going toward Griffin's Wharf, the people hurried thither. Some fifteen or twenty were so disguised, but about sixty boarded the vessels in the first place; and it is said that as many as a hundred and forty were engaged in the work before it was finished.

"A man named Lendall Pitts acted as leader; and under his direction the 'Dartmouth' was boarded first, the hatches were taken up, and her cargo of one hundred and fourteen chests of tea brought on deck, where the boxes were broken open and the tea was thrown into the water.

"Then the other two vessels were boarded and their cargoes of tea also thrown into the harbour."

"And that's what is called the 'Boston Tea Party,'" remarked Max with satisfaction. "I'd wish I'd been there to help, only that I'd rather be here now."

"That's just the way I feel about it," said Walter.

"You may be thankful, my dear boys, that you live in these days," remarked Grandma Elsie, smiling kindly upon them. "War times are more interesting to tell about, but far harder to live in. Our hearts may well be filled with thankfulness to God for the success of our fathers in securing the blessings of liberty for not themselves only, but for us also. We assuredly have more to be thankful for than any other nation, and ought therefore to be better and more earnest Christians, doing all we possibly can to spread abroad through all the earth the glad news of salvation by Christ, and to help the down-trodden and oppressed to share with us the inestimable blessings of freedom,—life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as our Declaration of Independence has it."

But the "Dolphin" was fast approaching the city, and there was so much to look at and talk about, relating to the present, that for a time the past was well-nigh forgotten, except when the Captain pointed out as nearly as he could, the precise spot where the never-to-be-forgotten "tea party" had been held.

When he had done so, Max broke out into a song to the tune of "Yankee Doodle," the other young folks joining in with a will on the chorus.