by Smith, Skye
"Hancock was at the Hall so you should have been here. That was your only role in the plan. To direct the destruction," Brown was holding onto his rage by a thin thread. "More likely that you didn't want to be seen here because you may have worn some blame."
"I was at the Old South Meeting House. The meeting ran late," said Revere. Even as he said it, it sounded like a lame excuse. "We sent good men to do the work. They dumped the tea, and while they were dumping it not one person was allowed to fill their pockets with it."
"Good men, you sent drunks. Our plan was to dress them as Hindoos to cause confusion, and they turned up looking like effing Mohawks. Effing drunks, every one of them," Brown's voice was rising. "Why were they two hours late?"
"They assembled early enough at the Freemason's Arms Tavern," said Hancock, "but then somebody kept buying them rum. By then the streets were filled with men because of the Town Meeting, so it took them a long time to get here." That also sounded like a lame excuse. "It's not that bad. Once we realized that the tea was floating back in on the flood tide, we brought all our men down here to guard it and to sink it."
"Not that bad?" Brown was near to exploding. "Do you know what the price of tea is in the market this morning? Tell him, Jack."
The rough man standing next to Brown said, "A shilling a pound. The flounder fishermen came in close to the tea ships last night and loaded their dories with dry tea."
"Not that bad," repeated Brown. "You've ruined us with your incompetence, Revere. Yes, it is that bad. We wanted the tea destroyed because the world is afloat in the stuff. We wanted it destroyed to keep the price of tea high until we could sell our stock of smuggled Dutch tea. A shilling a pound is less than the Dutch charged us."
Brown started to walk away, but then he turned back and said to Revere, "I'm missing three good men. They were watching the so-called destruction of the tea from a dory. They haven't returned. Find out if any of your men have seen them. They may have been carrying some twelve gallon kegs." He turned to go.
"Wait, John," said Revere, "come with me and look." He led the way down to the shore line towards a shed. At one point he stopped and picked up a piece of a keg and a part of a broken oar. "Mixed with the tea we have been finding the wreckage of a dory. Could this be a piece of the kegs you mentioned?"
Brown turned it over in his hand and scratched his fingernail at some tar on the wood. He smelled his finger. "Damn it all, that it is." He started walking again and kicked at some other wreckage. Revere overtook him and told him to go into the shed. In the shed, on the floor and covered with a tarp were three human shapes. Jack pulled the tarp back. It was them, the missing men.
"We pulled the bodies out of the floating tea this morning. From the looks of the wreckage that floated in with them, their dory was hit by a ship. They must have been out there without a light."
"Agh!" Brown screamed in frustration. "This bloody town has it in for me! Enough tea is saved to drop prices. Three of my best men are drowned. And you know what else? Someone set fire to the wheels of my carriage last night, so I am stuck here until they can be fixed. But the worst, the very worst is.... ahh, never mind." In his anger he had almost told Revere about the opium.
"I'll bet that girl set the fire," said Jack.
"What girl?" asked Revere.
"The pretty one from the...", Jack began but was interrupted.
"Just a girl, it's not important," said Brown. He looked down at the bodies again. "Leave the bodies here. I'll pick them up on my way back to Providence. Jack will give you their names for the records."
* * * * *
Brown and his two men walked abreast along the embankment towards Ede's shipyard. Brown was thinking. "We know those kegs hit the water, and we know they were picked up by our dory. Some of them should have survived its sinking."
He stopped and pulled on the arms of both men, "Hurry back to Revere. I'll go to Ede's shipyard and get the rest of the men. Tell them to help Revere's men sink the tea. Keep your eyes peeled for those kegs. If one is found, grab it and stick it in the watchman's shed with the bodies." He caught a movement in the corner of his eye.
A very fit-looking man had just stood up from the pile of bricks he had been sitting on. He said calmly, "Captain Brown, you need to talk to me."
"Bugger off," said Brown.
"No, it is important that ve talk."
Jack went to push the man back onto the bricks. His hand touched empty air instead of the man. Somehow he found himself on the ground looking up. Then he felt a pain so great in his shins that he wanted to throw up. He looked for help, but his friend had not reacted quickly enough. He watched him also fall to the ground, also in agony.
Brown pulled his pistol, but he never got the chance to cock it. The blow that disarmed him felt like it had broken his wrist. The kick to the back of his knee left him no choice but to sit down on the pile of bricks. His huge frame and weight jarred his back as he hit the unyielding bricks. The fit man picked up the pistol and sat lightly down beside him. He cocked Brown's own pistol as he shoved it into his ribs.
"I am glad ve could have this talk," said the man, "because ve have a problem."
"You are Rotch's guard, his shadow," said Brown. "Does he wish me harm because of his cargo?"
"Actually I vork for a voman, a voman of quality. She loaned my services to Mr. Rotch. No, the problem is the girl you took from the Anchor Coffee Shoppe."
"She escaped, ran away. I did nothing to her but truss her up and carry her away, so if you are about to take vengeance upon me, then you are doing me a great wrong."
"I doubt that. Some fishermen found her in the harbor, half drowned because of you. She has still not fully recovered."
"Then she lives," said Brown. "She is not damaged. Then this talk is not about vengeance. You are not going to kill me."
"Mr. Brown, if I vanted to kill you, I vould not warn you, or explain it to you. I vould just kill you quickly before anyone could stop me." He snapped his fingers to show how fast Brown would have died.
"Then you are here to threaten me."
"No, Mr. Brown. I do not make threats. It would be much easier and safer just to kill you. I am here acting as second for a duel."
"I don't fight duels. What do take me for, a gentleman's fop?"
"I understand completely. If it were up to me you would be a pool of blood at my feet by now. Instead you have been challenged, four times, to four duels, by four of Boston's ranked citizens."
"What, what's that you say? Four? Then this chit of a girl was a skillful mistress indeed, to have four lovers willing to duel for her."
"Ah, if only she were just their mistress, then we could agree on a sum and the challenge would be finished. No, Mr. Brown. Each of these men think of her as a cherished daughter. No amount of money will turn them away."
Brown sighed in frustration.
"I know these men. It will end badly for you. Two of them are crack shots and have calm heads. You will certainly not live out the day."
"What is usual in such duels? Can I offer apologies and penance?" asked Brown.
"I think it would take more. Perhaps if you svear that you and your men will always treat the girl as your own cherished daughter, from this moment forth."
Brown snickered. "I would agree to that, but these ranked citizens will not take me at my word."
"I will convince them. The girl is one of our most valuable spies. She vould be even more valuable if she could count on, absolutely count on, help from you and your organization."
"And what do I get out of this?" said Brown.
"You svear it then? For you and all of your men. A cherished daughter."
"Yes, damn you. I swear it. So what is it for me?" asked Brown.
"Breaking this oath will end badly for you."
"I have sworn. I will keep my oath. What do I get?"
"You get your pistol back," said the man as he emptied the prime and then uncocked it and put it down on the bricks. "You get to con
tinue to do business in this province." He stood and started to walk away.
"Hey," said Brown, "so whose cherished daughter is she, then? Besides mine, I mean."
The man stopped and turned. He thought for a moment and then answered, "A Daughter of Liberty, Mr. Brown. A Daughter of Liberty."
* * * * *
* * * * *
Nana was worried about her great grand daughter. She replaced the cold cloths on Maya's forehead and neck. The girl had been running a fever for hours and Nana was trying to get her temperature down. The whole time Maya had been delirious and Britta's memories had been spilling out quickly, too fast and too incoherent for her to make good notes.
"Oh poor Jemmy, poor Samuel," Maya croaked. She sipped at the glass of water that her great grandmother pressed to her lips. "Years and years of patience and organizing and hard work, all for nothing. Just when their boycott had taken wings and become a widespread embargo against buying imported goods from China and India. Just when they had won. Just when the taxes had been dropped and Parliament was listening and the Bill of Rights was within reach."
She took another sip. "All whisked out of their reach by a night of ill thought out vandalism and violence. Those rich smugglers and slavers from the Saint Andrews hall ruined everything." She felt around on the damp sheets to find the crystal, Britta's crystal. She turned her head to see it. It wasn't there. "Where is my crystal?"
"I hid it. I don't think you should use it anymore. I think it's making you crazy."
"But... I must have it. Fetch it for me. I must find out what happened next. Jon was telling me something, something about John Brown and a duel. I must find out."
Nana didn't like the look of panic in Maya's eyes. It was as if she had hid opium from an addict. She stroked the girls forehead gently, "Perhaps you should go back to your own life. Don't you have some work to do in Hollywood. This island is so primitive that you switch centuries and have no good reference point to keep it all straight in your head. Go away from this island and find Maya in the 21st century again."
"But your book. Your novel about Britta. How will you finish it without me, without the crystal."
"I still have all the diaries. While you have been dreaming, I have been transcribing them onto my laptop. You've filled in the years that the diaries did not cover, before she was married."
"But without the crystal I will miss her wedding," she pleaded. Maya really, really wanted her crystal back.
"No. If you want to know anything else, then read the diaries. At least they won't make you so schizophrenic. Besides, the wedding was nothing. Jim had the third bahns read on the Sunday following the Destruction of the Tea and they were horridly married in front of two witnesses and a preacher."
Maya lowered herself onto the pillow, relieved. "I'm so glad. She loved him so much, wanted him so much."
Nana clamped her mouth shut and didn't tell her that the honeymoon was short lived. This was not the time to upset her, or to give her another reason to want the crystal returned. Instead she pointed out, "Them finally getting married was about the only good thing to came out of the Destroy the Tea Party."
"How can you say that," Maya scolded. "The Boston Tea Party started the War of Independence."
"Bull feathers. The Destroy the Tea Party didn't start a shooting war, it started an economic war. An economic war that destroyed Boston's economy, and destroyed the lives of most of the ordinary folk in the town. The port was closed, and without it's business the ordinary folk, the 99%, lost their livelihood, and their homes, and went cold and hungry. All because some 1% fat cat Masons were trying to keep the price of tea high so they could still make a profit off their smuggled tea."
"So what happened to the Committee?" Maya asked. "Oh you must give me back the crystal. I must find out."
"You don't need the crystal for that. Just Google it. The Adams and Otis families stayed home and kept their heads down, although Samuel went into hiding for a while. There were lots of witnesses to say that they had tried to stop the lawbreakers."
"Lawbreakers?"
"What else do you call people that destroy so much private property?" replied Nana, "It's either theft or vandalism. Both highly illegal. The fat cat Masons left town, of course. Some to their country houses, others to Newport, or New York, or Philadelphia. That's the thing with the rich elite. When they mess up they can afford to walk away and go and be the elite somewhere else. Not like the rest of us, who must try to live through the mess they created.
They even refused to pay for the tea they destroyed, despite Ben Franklin sending word from London that covering The Company's cost was 'a must'. Their friends pleaded with them, Boston pleaded with them, New York bankers offered to pay it for them. Nothing. Well what ethics can you expect from a gang of smugglers and slavers."
"And all their crews. The black faced gangs. What happened to them?"
"Nobody admitted to being one of them for almost twenty years," replied Nana.
"What? not even after the British were sent packing."
"They weren't afraid of the British finding out. They were afraid of being tarred and feathered by the people of Boston. Boston suffered a lot because of them. A complete reversal of fortunes. It took twenty years for it to get back to being as big as it was before the Destroy the Tea Party. Which, by the way, was only made into a patriotic event by the politicians some sixty years later, once everyone who remembered the facts had died of old age."
"What about the other side?" asked Maya, flopping back on the pillow. She was feeling cooler now. Maybe Nana was right and she should stay away from the crystal.
"Governor Hutchinson was called to London to explain his actions, and lived out his life as an English country gentleman. The East India Company rebounded quickly because of the huge profits in the opium-for-tea trade between India and China. Once the Company had taken over half of India, they smuggled tea plants out of China and started their own tea plantations in India."
"And John Brown? What of the Devil's own Captain?" asked Maya.
"He never was held accountable for all of his crimes. He was one of the 1%. He got away with everything, although I believe he may have been the first man ever charged for breaking the new anti slavery laws of the USA. Eventually he got in bed with The Company and smuggled opium in the Far East."
"Please bring me my crystal," Maya begged. "You and the diaries are only telling me the facts. I want to feel what was going on, see it, smell it, live through it. Please."
"Maybe," Nana soothed, "but not today and not tomorrow. Not until you have answered all your email and have talked to your bosses in Hollywood."
Maya groaned, "Ugh, reality."
* * * * *
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MAYA'S AURA - Destroy the Tea Party by Skye Smith