Maya's Aura: Destroy the Tea Party

by Smith, Skye

  She pulled back from the curtain just in time. Brown went storming past the galley with Hancock hobbling behind trying to keep up. The front door slammed. Britta raced to the meeting room to make sure that Winnie was all right. She was curled up in a corner hiding behind the tray she had been carrying. The floor was littered with pottery shards and teaspoons.

  "Let me run after him and try to reason with him. He must be told that this is none of our doing and out of our control," said the purser. He was given the nod and he ran after Brown.

  Captain Hall spoke slowly, "I'll not risk the lives of my men or my ship protecting some bloody dried leaves, no matter what their value."

  "I wouldn't expect thee to," said Francis softly. "In fact I order thee not to. Thee had better go back to the ship just in case Brown goes there to make trouble." He waited until his captain had left and then he turned to Daniel who was leaning against the back wall. "Thank you for not pulling your pistol when he threatened me."

  "No need. Brown is a fox as well as a leader of dangerous men," said Daniel, "He came here for bluster, not for blows. If harm is to come to you, it vill be by his order, not by his hand. Besides, the man I vould have shot is Hancock. At least Brown is not a hypocrite. I vonder how many Sons of Liberty have shares in Brown's African slave trade?"

  Francis looked over at Britta who was holding Winnie close and dabbing the tears from her eyes and soaking the spilled tea from her dress. "Add the cost of the pots to my tab, Britta. It was none of her doing." Britta looked up at him and he was lost in her eyes for a moment. Seeing her holding the child close, made him wonder how she would look holding a baby, his baby. Later, he thought to himself, after this madness is all finished, he will ask her.

  "And what price do you put on her terror?" she hissed.

  "Perhaps the price of a new dress, a plain one that would not embarrass a Friend," he said taken aback by her anger. It set him thinking of other women and children. The ones in Dartmouth that Brown had just threatened. Could such a horror happen? Did Newport hate them so much? Had being slave masters hardened them against valuing each human life? Of course it had. They ran Blacks like cattle. He decided to send an immediate warning to his father in Dartmouth. His father knew the Lopez family in Newport. They would put a stop to any crazy talk from Brown's agents.

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  MAYA'S AURA - Destroy the Tea Party by Skye Smith

  Chapter 23 - Big John Brown

  Over the next week, the members of the Central Committee purposefully stayed away from the shop while Francis was in residence there. They did not want their presence to hinder him, or hurt his negotiations. Besides, they were fully busy running between Faneuil hall and the Old South Meeting house, making speeches and holding rallies.

  Not that the shop was hurting for business without the presence of the committee. Various groups of men were drinking and eating while waiting for their turn to speak to Francis. Jon was walking on eggshells, fearful that some of Brown's crew would come in and recognize him. "I saw the purser from the Dartmouth. Remember the purser?" he said while scoffing a day-old tart.

  "Yes, he was here with Captain Hall visiting Francis," Britta shrugged. The stress of the last week was wearing on her energy levels. She was so tired.

  "Oh, well that is strange then," he said.

  "How so?"

  "Because that same day I saw him from the back window upstairs. I was keeping my eye on John Brown to make sure he was well away from the shop before I came down. The purser ran up to him and stood discussing something with him for a long time."

  "He went to convince Brown that this situation was beyond the control of his captain or Francis, and to try to calm Brown down."

  "Not from what I saw. He was explaining something, and in the end Brown handed him a pocket full of money. A lot of notes. Even Hancock was contributing."

  Britta sighed. The purser was a slime ball. She hated to think what information he had sold to Brown. Hopefully he hadn't sold her. No, he hadn't recognized her. That night she climbed up to the roof of the building and watched the moon rise and sent a prayer up to the great goddess "please keep us out of Brown's hands".

  * * * * *

  Britta took good care of Francis because he was not taking good care of himself. She and Jon spent a lot of time with him in an attempt to keep his mind away from his problems. He ate with them, he spent evenings with them, and he swapped stories with them.

  The arrival of a third Company ship triggered more rallies and more town meetings and more shuttling about by Francis and Daniel. Meanwhile, the first ship, the Dartmouth, was closing in on the expiry of its safe harbor limit. Something had to be done about it, and soon.

  Even the Navy was now involved. The admiral had threatened Francis during his last meeting with the governor. If the paperwork on the Dartmouth was not in the Customs office in good time, then the Navy would help customs to seize the ship and would secure the cargo in their own warehouses. Francis told Britta this in an outburst of frustration, because it was the very same admiral who was stopping the Dartmouth from leaving the Harbor.

  There was a second massive meeting at the Old South Meeting House, but other than keeping everyone rallied to resist buying tea, nothing was accomplished. The only resolution was that Francis Rotch should again meet with the consignees and encourage them to give up their right to the tea, as if poor Francis had not been doing that all along.

  Nine days before Christmas there was another mass meeting scheduled. On that day, Francis and Daniel left the coffee shop early in the morning expecting to spend long hours shuttling about while hoping for a breakthrough with the governor. At midday the Dartmouth's slimy purser arrived at the shop looking for Francis.

  When Britta told him that Mr. Rotch was likely to be gone all day, the purser smiled and told her to unlock the meeting room for him. He argued convincingly and so she did so. She was not worried for Francis kept everything of value upstairs in Jon's room. The purser ordered coffee for a half dozen so she expected that the Captains of the three ships would soon be joining him.

  She was in the meeting room setting out the coffee things when John Brown and John Hancock and a few other dangerous looking men came in. Winnie had sucked up her nerve and was peering around the door jam at her and pointing upstairs. Then the door was slammed and bolted in her face. At least she had let Britta know that Jon was safe upstairs.

  Winnie walked backwards away from the meeting room door. She heard the bolt being wriggled into place to lock the door. The bolt always stuck. She knew this and could count on it. She crept towards the door and put her ear to the key hole. The sticky bolt would give her enough warning to flee before anyone could open the door. Her heart was pounding so hard in her ears that it was hard to hear the voices.

  * * * * *

  "Ya know, I am sorry I ever got into the effing tea business," said John Brown. "Right from the beginning it has been a curse. I wasn't smuggling Dutch tea for more than two months before that James Otis and his Boston Caucus went and organized the entire bloody province to refuse to buy tea. There was no sure way to tell Company tea from Dutch tea, so everyone stopped buying any bloody tea."

  "I didn't realize that the refusal to buy tea worked that well," said John Hancock. "If it worked so well I am surprised that the Caucus hasn't invented a new word for the tactic of refusing to do business with a company."

  "Be careful of what you effing wish, Hancock. The fact that Otis and Adams have brought the biggest company in the world to its knees by just organizing its customers to refuse their goods is, well, that is a very dangerous idea. If the tactic were named, it would become better known. Why they could even put a giant bank out of business just by getting everyone to switch their accounts out of the targeted bank and into its competitors."

  "I was just saying that..."

  "Yeh, yeh, yeh," interrupted Brown, "if that Company tea comes ashore, one of two things will happen. Either the price of
tea will drop a shilling a pound and we will take a loss on our Dutch tea, or James Otis or Sam Adams will start up the refusal to buy tea idea again, and we will take a total loss on our Dutch tea. Are you willing to take that chance?"

  "No, the other shareholders are breathing down my neck as it is," said Hancock.

  "Right then," Brown said in his calm, business voice, "tonight we destroy the tea. We can't afford to let the Navy seize it. They would hand it to the consignees and that would trigger our financial ruin. Hancock, call your Northenders together. Wait until about five tonight so it will be pitch dark out and the tide will be ebbing, and then board the ship and dump the effing tea into the sea."

  "We are ready and willing," said Hancock. "We have discussed it many times in the Freemason's Arms. One of the plans was to throw the tea chests overboard, and then have men stand by in dories to retrieve them. The chests are sealed and water-proofed. They will float, so they need only be dragged to shore."

  "You effing twit," said Brown, "what word in 'destroy the tea' don't you understand? If the tea comes ashore ready for sale, it matters not who sells it, you or them or the bloody Queen of Sheba. The effect is the same. It will cost us our profit on our Dutch tea, and ruin us."

  Brown looked around at the men. "To destroy the tea all we have to do is get it wet with harbor water. That means emptying the chests, not chucking the chests overboard. And for God's sake, don't destroy the chests. They are specially built and carved in China for the express purpose of keeping the tea fresh during a sea journey. They are worth almost as much as the tea they carry."

  The purser spoke up, "I will get there ahead of you and tell the Captain what is happening. So long as he believes there will be no injury to ship or crew, he will hand over the keys. The chests weigh a ton, so you will need men who know how to use block and tackle and loading spars. If they rig it right then you should be able to remove the lids from the chests, swing them over the gunnels and then use a hook to tip the chest and tip the loose tea into the sea."

  "And another thing," said Brown, "the one thing we learned with the Gaspee is that it is costly to silence witnesses. Any man that goes on board the ships must be masked."

  "There are Hindoos on the Dartmouth," said the purser. "Tell your men to blacken their faces with soot and wrap their heads in a scarf and pretend to be Hindoos. That will not only mask their faces but cause enough confusion that no one aboard will have time to organize a defense."

  "Aye," said Brown, "I like it. John, you'd better get to the Freemason's Arms Tavern and tell your men what is expected of them. There isn't much time," he cautioned Hancock, "see you on the wharf at first dark, about five. Oh, and make sure your guard on the wharf knows that only men with blackened face are allowed to embark. Anyone can disembark, but only black faces can board."

  Hancock and two others left. When the door opened, it lit the corner that Britta was pressed into. She made a dash for the door but she was grabbed by the purser. "Oye, we can't let her out. She'll tell Rotch that I was involved."

  * * * * *

  Winnie had heard the bolt being wriggled, and ran back to hide in the galley. When she heard the meeting room door open she peeked out and saw Mr. Hancock and some men hurry by. The meeting room door closed again, and she heard sound of the bolt being wriggled.

  She looked frantically around the coffee shop. There were only the old men playing Damas and reading newspapers. No one strong. No one young. No one who could help her. No one who could run for help. She crept back to the keyhole, making sure she did not step on the two creakiest floor boards.

  * * * * *

  "We'll keep her locked up, don't worry," Brown said, "Girl, pour us some coffee."

  Britta tried to keep the lace of her bonnet turned to hide her face while she poured. She kept out of Brown's reach. She didn't want him fondling her bum. It might trigger his memories.

  Brown didn't speak again until he had sipped some coffee. "Now that twit Hancock and his men are gone, we can get on with the real business at hand. Explain the plan, Clive."

  The purser looked around at the remaining men. "There is a cargo on the Dartmouth that is not on its manifest. A dozen ordinary twelve gallon kegs with a navy seal on each. One broke loose and broke the seal, and I was sent below to re-seal it. This is what is inside." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanky. He placed it in the center of the table beside the lamp and then opened the hanky. A small black ball of resin emerged.

  Brown laughed. "Now lads. We are not sharing this cargo with our Northender partners. Understand." He picked up the ball and sniffed it and then rubbed it and then licked the place he had rubbed. "Prime Indian tea. Opium for all those navy addicts from the war, though I bet half of it gets accidentally sold to the local physicians for their syrups."

  "The plan is simple," said Brown, and he nodded to the purser. "You go back to the Dartmouth and wait until someone with a black face asks if there is any Indian Tea aboard. You show him where the opium kegs are kept. For that. you get a fifth share. The rest of you, from now on, nobody uses names. The rest of our men are at Ede's shipyard. We are going to take the carriage back there as soon as we leave here."

  Brown pointed to a beefy lad. "You will be the man asking about the Indian Tea. You and four of our men will walk to Griffin's wharf. Make sure they all have blackened their faces and have rags on their heads like Hindoos. The wharf guard will pass you through as if you are one of Hancock's men. Ignore the Chinese tea. Find Clive. Carry the twelve kegs of Indian Tea aft and chuck them out into the water on the other side from the wharf. Just make sure they don't crash together, else they will split open and sink."

  Brown pointed to a grizzled man with red hair. "You and two of our men will be rowing one of the big fishing dories from Ede's. Don't blacken your faces. Row to just astern of the Dartmouth, then light the fishing lamp and pretend to fish. Once all dozen kegs are in the water, you will collect them into the dory. Once the kegs are on board cover them with a tarp, and douse the light and start rowing back to Ede's. You will be out of sight of Griffin's wharf as soon as you are around the end of Gray's wharf."

  He looked at them all. "See, dead simple. I will be waiting with the carriage and extra horses at Ede's shipyard. We will all meet back there. And for Christ's sake, as soon as you are away from the mob, wipe the effing black off your faces. The mob, the sheriff, the action and any violence will be at Griffin's wharf. We will just ride out of town, and follow the Post road to Providence ... with fifty thousand quid’s worth of opium."

  "What if something goes wrong?"

  "No matter what, we meet at Ede's and ride for Providence. This town is like a powder keg. I don't want to be caught in the middle of whatever is going to happen. If you are late or get separated, start walking. Don't stay in Boston."

  "What about the girl?" asked Clive. "She heard everything."

  Britta looked up. She was so terrified that she felt like she was going into shock and kept shivering. She knew even before Hancock had left, that they couldn't leave her in Boston to tell stories. Now she doubted they would even leave her alive.

  "We take her with us. I'll have her for breakfast," said Brown.

  "She'll scream and get a hue and cry after us," Clive objected.

  Under her breath Britta wished endless disappointment upon them all.

  "No she won't," said Brown. He pointed one at a time to two men. "You, go out to the shop and bring back a cloak for her. You, bring the carriage around to the back."

  * * * * *

  Winnie heard the bolt jiggle and fled to the galley to hide. She heard a man calling, "Girl, where are you, girl?" Then a rough-hewn man poked his head into the galley, grabbed her and dragged her out. He ordered her to get her mistress's cloak and then followed her to the cloak rack by the fireplace. She went to lift it from the hook, and the man pushed her out of his way rudely, and then took the cloak back to the room.

  She followed him, a few steps behind. He closed the
door but did not bolt it, so she couldn't go near it to listen. It was only when she heard the scraping of the very heavy oak door at the back of the building that she realized that they were going out the back way. She whimpered as she thought about why they needed Britta's cloak. They were taking her with them.

  She lifted her skirts and she ran to the staircase and leaped up them two at a time yelling, "Jon! Oh Jon! Oh help Britta, oh please help Britta!" Jon met her at the upstairs doorway. "They are going to take her away out the back door."

  John ran through their rooms to the tiny store room at the back. He pushed some women’s clothes out of the way of the tiny window and looked down. There was a four-wheeled carriage waiting there. It was like a small version of a Post Road carriage but had only two horses. It even had the red doors of a Post Road carriage, but the spokes of the wheels were painted green, not red.

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  MAYA'S AURA - Destroy the Tea Party by Skye Smith

  Chapter 24 - Abducted

  The man returned with the cloak, but did not hand it to Britta to put on. Instead he draped her cloak around her, back to front so that her face was deep inside her hood and the pegs to close the cloak were down her back. She felt a rope or a belt being cinched around her waist trapping her arms down. She could see nothing and do nothing, but she could still walk. If she tripped she could not save herself.

  She heard a voice beside her ear. "Bring attention to us and we will have no choice but to snap your neck." A horrible thought raced across her mind. They were Brown's men, so they were slavers. They were professionals in the business of abduction. She would be given no chance to escape.

  She heard a loud grating noise, and felt a cold breeze up her skirt and knew that they had opened the back door. She was shoved forward and then guided into the alley. They kept pushing her gently until she banged her leg on what must be the carriage step but she could not find it with her foot. There was the sound of a carriage door opening and then she was lifted from behind by a big strong hand between her legs, and pushed forwards so that she fell onto the floor of the carriage. The hand stayed between her legs, exploring, for a short while.