American Challenge

by Susan Martins Miller

  But the river didn’t freeze over. It was a mild winter, which was good for everyone in Boston. Fuel was scarce. A colder winter would have meant the poor people would have suffered more. The Patriots were sure God made the winter mild to help them.

  Hopes for peace grew dimmer. The Patriots were preparing more and more for war. Patriot gunmakers were busy in all the colonies, making muskets for the minutemen. Paul Revere and other silversmiths made bullet molds. Colin’s mother, Harry’s wife, and other Patriot women gave their silver and pewter dishes and candlesticks to be melted down and made into bullets. Kate wondered if Lieutenant Andrews and Lieutenant Rand noticed the dishes and candlesticks missing from the house.

  Larry came to town often, bringing things to market. He always stopped by to visit Colin and Kate. He told them how he and his father spent their evenings in front of the family fireplace carving wooden bowls and spoons the minutemen would need if war came.

  Kate was glad there had been no fighting between the redcoats and minutemen. So far, the only people killed had been British deserters who had been caught and shot at the common. Each time it happened, Kate thought of Mr. Lambert. Where was he? Was he safe?

  In February, General Gage’s men tried to take the ammunition stored at Salem. Harry told Colin and Kate that Mr. Lambert, the deserter they’d helped escape, was living near Salem. He was helping train the minutemen.

  The Observers hadn’t been able to get a message to Salem. General Gage had locked Paul Revere, Harry, and some of their friends in jail at the fort on Castle Island to keep them from telling Salem. So now the Observers knew that the general had his own spy in the Observers.

  Even without the Observers, Gage’s men weren’t able to take Salem’s ammunition.

  March fifth was the fifth anniversary of the Boston Massacre. People gathered at Old South Church to remember those who’d lost their lives at the hands of British soldiers. The building was packed. People were crushed together in the pews. The aisles were filled. Men even stood on the two-foot-deep windowsills. Kate knew the streets were crowded, too. Thousands had turned out.

  Kate went with Colin and his family, but when she glanced up at the balcony, she saw that her parents were there, too. They sat where young Josiah Quincy had been the night of the tea party. Kate could still remember his chilling words that night:

  “I see the clouds which now rise thick and fast upon our horizon … to that God who rides the whirlwind and directs the storm I commit my country.”

  Kate wondered, How close is the storm of war now?

  Colin nudged her elbow and pointed toward the front of the church. Kate almost laughed out loud when she saw Dr. Warren, the Patriot leader, climb into the church through the window above the high pulpit! He hadn’t been able to make it through the crowd.

  Dr. Warren was the one who had written the Suffolk Resolves that Colin and Harry had printed and Paul Revere had carried to the Continental Congress at Philadelphia last summer. Dr. Warren had come to the print shop to thank Colin’s father for doing such a quick, good print job.

  Wealthy John Hancock, who had been the leader of the Continental Congress, and Sam Adams, one of the smartest Patriot leaders, were beside Dr. Warren.

  Forty British officers took the best pews at the front of the church and sat on the steps that led to the high pulpit. Colin and Kate exchanged worried glances. There was a rumor that General Gage was going to arrest the Patriot leaders today. The Loyalists had even made up a song about hanging them.

  The redcoats couldn’t frighten the Patriot leaders from speaking. Dr. Warren told the story of the Boston Massacre. He reminded the people of all the reasons they were proud to be English citizens.

  “It isn’t our aim to become a separate country from Great Britain,” he said. “Our wish is that Britain and the colonies grow stronger together. But if our peaceful attempts aren’t successful and the only way to safety lies through war, I know you will not turn your faces from the enemy.”

  The soldiers jeered. The crowd cheered. But no one was arrested at the meeting after all. Was it because the soldiers were afraid the crowd would turn on the redcoats if they arrested the popular leaders? Kate thought the leaders must have been frightened, even though they weren’t arrested.

  Out in the street after the meeting, Kate hurried to join her parents. The crowd about them parted to let Sam Adams and John Hancock through. Kate saw her mother’s icy blue glare as the men walked past. Kate knew Mama hadn’t changed her mind about Patriots.

  In the days that followed, the Patriot leaders quietly slipped out of town, one by one, until only Dr. Warren was left.

  The thunder of war sounded louder than ever.

  CHAPTER 15

  Danger

  Kate smiled as she entered the printing shop. Spring had come at last, and the air outside was filled with the chatter of birds and the smell of cherry blossoms. The shop still smelled like ink. Uncle Jack always said ink was his favorite smell because ink printed words, and words were man’s most powerful tools, next to faith in God.

  Harry, Colin, and Uncle Jack looked up from their work and said hello. Colin handed her a freshly printed newspaper. “Read what Patrick Henry said.” Kate read it aloud.

  “‘We have done everything that could be done to stop the storm from coming. There is no longer any room for hope of peace. If we want to keep those rights for which we’ve been struggling for ten long years, we must fight!

  We shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God, who rules nations. He will raise up friends to fight our battles for us.

  Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be bought at the price of slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God. I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!’”

  Prickles ran up and down Kate’s spine. The words filled her with a tingly sense of awe. She would always remember these words, she promised herself, and one day she would repeat them to her children. Still, she wondered how Patrick Henry could be so certain. Was it really so bad to live under Britain’s rule? She was fairly sure she would never choose to die, no matter how unfair Britain’s taxes might be.

  “Do you think he’s right?” she asked her uncle. “Do you think we’ll have to fight?”

  Uncle Jack looked very serious. “I think he’s right.”

  Harrison nodded as well.

  Kate and Colin walked outside. The sun still shone, warming the cobblestones. Redcoats, tradesmen, and housewives coming from market still filled the street. Idle craftsmen still sat on barrels and benches, visiting. Birds still chattered and cherry blossoms still perfumed the air.

  But nothing was the same.

  The next day, Kate saw people all over town reading the Boston Observer and heard them repeating Patrick Henry’s words. In the afternoon, when Father said they could go, she and Colin hurried to Uncle Jack’s shop with Liberty at their heels. They’d just arrived when a clattering in the street drew everyone to the door. Kate couldn’t believe what she saw.

  Lieutenant Rand and three other officers were riding their horses through the street. A large group of soldiers followed on foot, calling insults at the Patriots and laughing. Rand carried a large straw man. There was a grin on the lieutenant’s face that made Kate’s skin crawl.

  People in the street hurried to get out of the horses’ paths. Then they stopped and watched to see where the soldiers were going. Everyone knew what the straw man was for.

  So did Kate. She’d seen others like it often enough.

  As the officers pulled their horses to a stop in front of the shop, Rand leaped off his horse. He grinned at Colin and his father, then he and one of the other officers stopped a foot in front of them. Liberty growled deep in his throat, peeking at Rand from behind Kate’s skirts. People in the street drew nearer, but Kate knew they couldn’t stop the redcoats.

  The other officer carried a rope with a noose at one end. He tossed the other end over the shop sign’s metal pole, then hook
ed the noose over the straw man. Kate’s stomach tightened when they pulled the straw man up, letting it swing in the breeze. She knew what they were doing. It was called hanging someone in effigy. They were pretending to hang Uncle Jack.

  A copy of the Boston Observer was pinned to one straw hand. Rand grabbed a pipe from a nearby shopkeeper. He held it beneath the paper until it started on fire. Liberty yelped and scuttled away.

  Colin darted into the shop. He grabbed the bucket of water that always stood beside the press. Kate knew the straw would go up like kindling and could start the building on fire. Water sloshed over the floor and Colin’s shoes as he raced out the door with the bucket. The straw man was already one huge flame. The officers and his father had backed away.

  Colin tossed the entire bucket on the burning form. Most of the fire went out in a hiss of smoke. The rope continued to burn, scorching the wooden shop sign.

  Uncle Jack grabbed his composing stick, stuck it through the noose, and yanked the rope down. He stamped the flames out until only a smoking black circle remained.

  Lieutenant Rand sat astride his bay horse and watched. Finally, he leaned over the horse’s neck. “Patrick Henry may not be afraid of war, but you should be, Mr. Lang. If war breaks out, the treasonous printers will be among the first prisoners of war.” He yanked at the reins, turned his horse, and galloped up the street, hooves clattering against the cobbles.

  Colin’s fists curled into balls. “I hate that man!”

  His father’s arm slid around his shoulders. “We’re to love our enemies, Son. He needs our prayers, not our hate.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to love everyone not just our enemies?” Colin asked.

  “Yes, but it’s hardest to be nice to our enemies.”

  “If that’s true, why are you nicer to Lieutenant Rand than to Uncle Firth?” Colin stormed into the street, his wet shoes slapping against the cobblestones. Kate looked after him unhappily. She knew he wanted to be alone.

  Kate was glad the next morning when her father asked her to work in the medical garden. It felt good to be outside in the sunlight with the birds singing and the smell of fresh earth. Her fear and anger over Lieutenant Rand’s straw man lightened a little as she worked, pulling the tiny weeds that were growing around the young herbs.

  The medical garden was more important than ever since the harbor had closed. Now when Father ran out of medicines and herbs, it was difficult and expensive to replace them unless he could get them from the garden. Kate sat back on her heels for a moment, enjoying the sunshine on her face, but she knew Mama would scold her if she came in with her face all red from the sun. She tightened the blue ribbons beneath her chin, pulling the sides of her huge round straw hat down over her cheeks.

  Colin joined her in the garden and began turning the soft soil with a wooden rake. As they worked, the sound of fifes and drums playing a British march grew steadily louder, until it drowned out the songs of birds in the nearby trees. Colin and Kate moved to the white picket fence surrounding the garden to watch a regiment of redcoats parade past. Brass buttons and musket barrels flashed in the sun. Six young Patriot boys followed along singing “Yankee Doodle” at the top of their lungs.

  “When the British troops first came to Boston, I thought everything would get better,” Kate said. “Instead, everything got worse.” She leaned against the fence. “Now, Sarah blames everything on the Loyalists—but I know that people like Mama and Father aren’t to blame for everything that’s wrong.”

  “Are you and Sarah friends again?”

  She shook her head. “No. Sarah says she hates Loyalists and won’t be friends with me anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, Kate.”

  “I always thought everything would work out between Britain and the colonies. But if Sarah can hate me because my parents are Loyalists and our fathers can stop talking to each other, maybe Britain and the colonies will stay angry, too. Maybe all this tension will never go away.”

  “Maybe.”

  Kate wrapped her fingers around the top of a picket in the fence and watched the troops disappearing down the street. “Everyone in Boston seems angry these days. People keep talking about war. Sometimes, Colin, I’m so scared.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his hand comforted her, but she knew the thought of war scared him, too.

  The next evening, Dr. Milton sent Colin to his father with a message to meet him after dark at the print shop. Colin exchanged looks with Kate, his brows raised in a silent question, but then he ran off to do what he was told.

  Kate wanted to ask her father why he wanted to meet with Uncle Jack. Her curiosity made her feel both nervous and hopeful, all at the same time. His face was so grave, though, that she didn’t dare ask him any questions.

  The next morning, Father looked the same as ever as he went about opening the apothecary shop. Kate could hardly wait until Colin came. She was certain he would tell her what had happened.

  Later, as they again worked in the garden, the children talked in excited whispers.

  Colin, his father, and Harry had pretended to go to bed early the night before, Colin told Kate. They said good night to the family and officers. Then they sneaked out an upstairs window.

  When they reached the print shop, Kate’s father stepped out of a shadow and joined them. Uncle Jack made sure the wooden shutters were closed over the windows. Inside, Harry lit a single candle from a warm coal in the banked fireplace. In the wavering light of the candle, the three Langs faced Dr.

  Milton.

  Colin’s father crossed his arms over his chest. “You haven’t spoken to me for six months, Firth. Now you order me and my sons to the print shop in the dark of night. Why?”

  “General Gage is planning to take your press and arrest you for treason.”

  “No!” Colin yelled. He couldn’t bear it to be true! His father and brother couldn’t be arrested!

  His father put his hand on Colin’s shoulder. “Quiet, son. How do you know this, Firth?”

  Dr. Milton hesitated a moment. “An officer I trust told me. He knows my sister is your wife.”

  “Why arrest us now?” Harrison asked.

  “A ship arrived this week from England with a letter from the king to General Gage. The king told him to be tougher on the Patriots,” Dr. Milton said. “You and your father need to leave town.”

  “Gage won’t give us a pass out of town when he wants to arrest us,” Uncle Jack said. “Maybe Harry or I could sneak out of town, but how could we sneak both our families out?”

  Sweat trickled down Kate’s spine as she listened to Colin’s story. She remembered the deserter she and Colin had seen captured at the gate. Would that happen to Harry and Uncle Jack?

  “Then your father said, ‘I’ve been thinking about this for hours.’” Colin continued with his story.

  “General Gage won’t hurt your families,” Kate’s father had said. “It’s you and Harry he wants. I promise to watch out for your families until you can return or they can join you. Because I’m a Loyalist doctor, I have a pass that lets me enter and leave Boston freely. The guards at the Neck see me so often that they don’t even search me. I can sneak you out in my carriage.”

  Harry grinned. “That’s a great idea!”

  Relief poured through Kate as she listened. It was the perfect plan! She felt so proud of her father. No matter what he believed, he would always stand by the people he loved.

  Colin shook his head when he saw Kate’s excited face. “My father said, ‘No.’”

  Uncle Jack had shaken his head and crossed his arms over his large chest. “I won’t let you put yourself in danger. The officers at our house would quickly find we’d left town. When they found you’d left town the same night, you’d be arrested.”

  Dr. Milton’s arms had swung wide. “What else can you do?”

  “We can find a way out of Boston ourselves.” Uncle Jack raised his eyebrows and looked at Harry. “Can’t we?”

  Colin k
new he was asking Harry whether he could get them out the same way Harry had helped other deserters out of Boston.

  Harry nodded. “We’ll find a way.”

  “If you can’t find another way out,” Dr. Milton said, “promise you’ll let me help you.”

  “I promise. I’ll never forget this, Firth, not the warning or the offer to put yourself in danger to help us.”

  Colin had thought the candlelight reflected off unshed tears in his father’s eyes. A moment later he’d decided he must have been wrong. He’d never seen his father cry.

  Uncle Jack cleared his throat. “Colin said something to me yesterday that’s been bothering me ever since.”

  Colin had looked at him in surprise. What had he said?

  “He said he didn’t understand why we were nicer to our enemies than to you, Firth.” Colin’s father held out his huge, ink-stained hand. “Our families have worked together down through the years. I’d like us to be friends, in spite of our differences. I’m asking you to forgive me.”

  Slowly, Kate’s father took his brother-in-law’s hand. “And I as well.”

  “You told me often that God says we’re to pray for our leaders,” Uncle Jack said. “Maybe that’s a good place to start over.”

  “For King George?” Kate’s father asked. “Yes—and the Patriot leaders.”

  “Oh, all right.” Dr. Milton had grinned. “I guess they can all use the Lord’s help. I only hope it’s not too late for peace.”

  “If war comes,” Harry said, “the leaders of both sides will need the Lord’s help more than ever.”

  The four joined hands in the middle of the dark room. They prayed for wisdom for King George and the Patriot leaders and for peace in America.

  After Kate’s father left, Uncle Jack had put a hand on each of his sons’ shoulders. “We’ve printed only what we believed was right. We have to trust that God will make a way of escape for us.”

  Harry had left to talk to friends in the Sons of Liberty who could help them find that way of escape. Colin and his father began taking apart the press. “We make our living by it,” Uncle Jack said. “We can’t let it be destroyed.” He knew friends who would hide the press in their cellar.