I slammed the ax down again and again, wood chips flying everywhere. My rage for the British took over; everything and everyone around me was nonexistent. I was blinded by my emotions. All I could think about was destroying this chest of tea and making them pay. 

 

December 14, 1773

I walked into the small shop, immediately overwhelmed with the metallic smell that I was all too familiar with.

“Golly you're here early, Christiphor!” Ben the owner of this blacksmith shop and my fellow friend said.

“Yes, I thought I would get some extra work in today to get my mind off things.” By things I meant the act that all the colonists were furious about. These acts had been getting worse over time, but they took it too far.

“I’m afraid a tax on tea will be our undoing,” the wise old man said, looking off somewhere else, clearly deep in thought. He was beyond right; our protests just weren’t enough. We would have to think of something bigger. I took off my worn down coat and headed to the back. I’d been working there ever since I was a kid. It was an escape; Boston had been getting worse lately. You couldn’t even go out in town without getting smothered by Loyalists. Besides going home to my lovely family, the best part of my day was meeting with the Sons of Liberty, a secret organization that was formed to protest the Stamp Act, and it stayed the same ever since.

After I finished making a few small axes, I decided to leave for the day and go to the Old South Meeting House.

“Goodbye to you, Ben.” I said as I hastily put my coat on, not wanting to be late.

“You as well, and make sure to tell Katherine I said hello.”

I gave him a friendly smile and a nod. I quickly opened the door as the sharp wind hit my face, making me shiver. Then off I went to the Old South Meeting House.

“Settle down, everyone, it is time we show them what we are capable of. '' The one and only Samuel Adams said as we all took our seats. He had been the leader of the Sons of Liberty for as long as I’d known.

The crowd roared, obviously agreeing with him. He had just announced that on December 16 we would be destroying the tea as a protest against the British East India Company. The Tea Act let them sell their tea lower so everyone would buy it from their company; English merchants were losing money. They were not happy about that.

“No taxation without representation!” said a man a couple rows behind me. Fists were thrown into the air as a sign of agreement. At that moment I had no idea what was to come, more specifically what was to come of me.

 

December 15, 1773

I woke up to the smell of coffee being made; I threw on some old clothes and headed out to the kitchen of my small but cozy home. The strong scent of coffee grains burned my nose. Although I wished I was sipping on some tea right then, coffee had to do.

“Shouldn’t you be getting to work? You slept in later than usual,” my wife Katherine said as she looked at me curiously. She was the opposite of me: fierce, strong, and not afraid to speak her mind. I felt terrible for lying to her, but it was for the best.

“Yes, I really should be heading out, thank you for the coffee I guess,” I said, cringing at the smell. She laughed, probably thinking my reaction was funny. I put on my coat and headed out the door. Snowflakes hit my face, and I pulled my coat up instinctively. Instead of going to the shop, I set off on my journey to the Old South Meeting House once again. The guilt of lying to Katherine wass still on my mind.

“Tomorrow at approximately 7:00 P.M, we will board the three ships, the Beaver, the Dartmouth, and the Eleanor,” Samuel said, looking serious, “as a way to try and trick the British guards. I want you all to disguise yourself as Mohawk Indians.” There was a long pause. “Put on tattered clothing and smear your face with lampblack.” Everyone nodded their heads in understanding. He stepped off the podium and turned toward the crowd. “Now, who's ready to make the British pay?” Cheers and roars took over, including my own. I was more than ready to make them pay even if it was at my own cost.

 

December 16 1773  

This was the day.  In about one hour I would be throwing chests of tea into the Boston Harbor. This could go two ways: everything could go smoothly and they Would repeal the Tea Act, or this would just make it worse. I was hoping for the better of the two. I started putting on my tattered and ripped clothing. Now for the fun part, I carefully smeared the back pigment known as lampblack on my face. By the time I was done, I had a small satisfied smile on my face. I looked completely different; little did I know my appearance wasn’t the only thing that was different.

After leaving the house unnoticed by Katherine, I met some other Sons of Liberty members at the dock in front of the ships waiting for Samuel Adams to get there. Most of us dressed as Mohawk Indians to try to fool the British.  A few minutes passed, and everyone was finally there; we sneakily boarded the ships. I gripped the small ax, getting ready to destroy the tea.

“Let the tea party begin!” Samuel shouted. That was all we needed. Everything from there on was crazy. Wood chips were flying through the air as well as drops of tea as if it were raining. I slammed the ax down again and again, wood chips flying everywhere. My rage for the British took over; everything and everyone around me was nonexistent. I was blinded by my emotions. All I could think about was destroying this chest of tea and making them pay.

The sound of the heavy chests plummeting into the water dragged me out of my rage. I immediately snapped out of it. My breathing was unsteady as if I had been running, and sweat glistened my skin. To my dismay, I looked around, and my eyes widened in horror. The ship was a mess, puddles of tea and parts of broken chests stood out everywhere. What had I done?

It took me my own sanity to realize that what I was doing wasn’t right. Yes, the British may deserve it, but this wasn’t me. I let my hate for the British drown out what was right. The Sons of Liberty wanted nothing more than to make them pay. I thought that was what I wanted, but I was wrong. I do want to be free and independent as well as have a say in taxes, but not at this cost. Not at the cost of my own emotions.

 

 

-Hailey E.