By the end of December, the event in Boston, later called the Boston Tea Party, was the hottest topic of discussion throughout the thirteen colonies.
It took several weeks for the news to reach Britain, since the news couldn’t travel any faster than it took a ship to cross the ocean. Finally, on January 19, 1774, King George III got the full report from his advisers. And he probably wasn’t very happy!
The king and Parliament decided to punish the entire city of Boston with the passage of the Coercive Acts, which the Patriots later called the Intolerable Acts. As one member of Parliament put it, “The town of Boston must be knocked down about their ears and destroyed.” The British Parliament also passed these acts in the hopes that they would prevent other colonies from resisting or protesting their rule.
Paul Revere on horseback circa December 21, 1773
The Coercive Acts shut down Boston Harbor until the East India Tea Company was repaid for the destroyed tea. That meant that only food and firewood were allowed into the port. Everything else was banned—not even hay was allowed in to feed the starving horses. The people of Boston were forced to provide housing for the thousands of British troops sent there to enforce the new laws. So, many British soldiers slept in barns, taverns, and other buildings, making these places unusable for the colonists. And there was nowhere for them to complain since town meetings of any kind were outlawed.
At first, these acts did seem to make life in Boston so hard that the Patriots would be knocked down and destroyed as Parliament hoped. But then something incredible happened, something King George never could have expected. People throughout the colonies rallied to save Boston. The people of Windham, Connecticut, sent 258 sheep to feed their starving neighbors in Boston. More food and supplies arrived from all over the colonies.
Official statements of support followed. “If our sister colony of Massachusetts Bay is enslaved we cannot long remain free,” wrote representatives from Virginia. “United we stand, divided we fall.”
Thomas Jefferson of Virginia added, “An attack on one of our sister colonies … is an attack on [us] all.”
The leaders of the colonies knew they had to come together to determine their next steps. Each colony would send representatives, known as delegates, to a convention to decide their next move. The meeting was known as the First Continental Congress. It took place place on September 5, 1774, at Carpenters’ Hall in Philadelphia. Fifty-six delegates from twelve colonies (Georgia was the only holdout) attended the meetings, which went on for several weeks.
By the middle of October, the congress decided to boycott almost all British goods until the Intolerable Acts were repealed. They drafted a statement, known as the Declaration of Colonial Rights, and sent it by ship across the Atlantic to King George III. It called for many freedoms from British rule.
The congress also agreed to meet again, on May 10, 1775. The delegates wanted to allow enough time for their demands to reach King George and for the British government to respond. Some of the delegates still believed that some kind of understanding could be reached between the colonies and Britain.
Others, like John Hancock, were not as optimistic. As early as November, just a month after the First Continental Congress, he was calling for twelve thousand men to volunteer as minutemen. The name came from the idea that they could be ready to fight in one minute. Patriots signed up—and started to stockpile gunpowder. Many Patriots agreed with John Hancock that the colonies should prepare for war—especially after King George sent back orders to crush any revolt.
War was clearly in the air—even if neither side had declared it. The mood was best summed up by Patrick Henry, a leader from Virginia, who announced in March 1775, “The war is actually begun! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty! Or give me death.”
The rallying call would soon echo throughout the land.
Patrick Henry
The Dove welcomed us back aboard and swept us away from Boston with billowing sails and wild, wintry winds. Father and I are sailing home, and I’m glad, for he says that if the winds cooperate, we’ll be home in Williamsburg for Christmas. As we sailed out of Boston Harbor, I imagined that I saw tea leaves floating in the water. Perhaps I did, for Charles told me that enough tea was tossed to make many millions of cups of tea.
“Father,” I said, “is there any hope for peace between the Patriots and the people still loyal to the king? I worry for Uncle George and Aunt Charlotte’s safety if war comes. I’m especially afraid that Charles will go off to be a soldier and risk his life.”
“’Tis right for a person to stand up for what they believe in,” said Father. He tilted his head and looked at me. “Even if she’s just a young girl, who goes to a very unusual tea party and comes to breakfast the next morning with a tea leaf tangled in her hair.”
I gasped. Charles and I were certain we had not been recognized! “F-Father—” I stammered.
“Hush,” said Father. “You and I are both pledged to secrecy, and Uncle George and Charles are, too.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “There’s trouble ahead for our colonies,” he said sadly. “It may be many years before our families are together again. It will be impossible for the Virginia Merrimans to see the Boston Merrimans for a long time, if war comes.” He sighed. “And it will, I fear.”
I fear that when the king finds out about the destruction of the tea, he’ll be as fast and furious in his punishments—and just as impossible to stop—as the winds driving the Dove out to sea.
