Cobblestones
Home : Colonial
Lives
: The Night of August
Fourteenth
The Night of August Fourteenth
by Emma
This environment, once my home, seemed
so strange and lifeless. We never altered the house, for it reminded us
of father. Not one thing had changed in or near the house since his
death. Andrew stood beside me, constantly looking at the ashes, the
house, then the ashes again.
“I am sorry.” I said softly as the wind scattered the ashes and made the grass dance with them.
“I am sorry.” I said softly as the wind scattered the ashes and made the grass dance with them.
 Click play to hear my story |
“Mary,” my brother would say to me before I left the house for work. “Please do be careful of all those drunkards in the tavern.”
“Yes, Andrew.” I would tell him. Though I was over 20 now, he still persisted to treat me like a little girl. When I reached the tavern, much news had been going around that I repeated several times to a variety of customers. The Boston Gazette and Country Journal were causing quite a fuss in this town. The articles written were about politics, the British, the acts that were being passed, and other things of the like. Some thought it un-loyal, or thought the authors “publishers of sedition,” as Governor Bernard told us when he sat in the tavern with his morning brandy. But others thought it justice because they too thought poorly of the British, although I myself did not know what to think. Of course, I should listen to Andrew when he tells me that this “Country Journal” would cause more trouble than it’s worth. Yet I am loyal to my to my friends who are patriots and editors who see truth behind their words.
“Ah, Mary!” I was startled from my thoughts to look up and see my brother. “How goes work?”
“Nothing different than usual, Andrew.” I told him. He smiled and waved for me to sit down with him. As the wooden chair scratched against the floor boards I looked at him expectantly. “Oi, could it get any hotter this summer?” He yawned, taking off his leather hat and placing it on the table.
“I am sure it will. Before we know it, the well will dry again!” I replied. He simply nodded then leaned in closer, as if getting down to the point.
“Mary,” he said, staring at my eyes. “I fear there is an organization starting.”
“Why fear such a thing?” I asked him, intrigued.
“Your friends, the editors?”
“Yes, what of them?” I said slowly.
“They are against us. They, and nine others in the colony. Maybe more.” I widened my eyes, confused. Indeed, this was news to me.
“My friends would never betray me! Why would they be against us? We haven't done anything!” My emotions triggered and I sounded more upset then I really was.
“Calm down, Mary!” He said in a hushed yet firm tone. “Why would they be against us? Have you not read or heard of this new Country Journal?” he said, mockingly. “They believe we are enemies to them because we support the British, because we enforce the stamps! They think it is wrong!” I glared at him, angered.
“Us.” I repeated.
“Mary-”
“We support the British? We work as enforcers?” He looked me over as if I were someone he had never seen before.
“I thought, we were in this together.” he scolded, followed by a heavy sigh. “I just wanted to tell you, Mary, to protect you.”
“I do not need to be protected from my friends.”
“They could hurt us!” He slammed his hand down on the table and clenched his fists in anger. “Mary, I have raised you since you were a little girl. You know we need to stay together! I loved you, fed you, and I think you should show your own brother a little respect. It’s not that much to ask. Now, you may trust your friends, but you need to trust me, too, Mary. I would never lie to you.”
“Andrew. You know that my friends are scarce! Benjamin and John are the only ones I have! I am not like you, Andrew! You can feel safe and happy with your friends while I must be mocked by the other girls who sew and draw all day. They do not think I am even a real woman! I should get married and bear children but I do not because I would not let father down when he told us to take after the tavern while he could not. Do you not remember this day? The day that father died? And you turned him down?” The silence that followed was long and haunting in the room.
“You know I didn’t want to, Mary. I would have run this tavern but I needed to have an occupation that would have profit for both of us...”
“Don’t use that excuse. You know very well that this tavern is prosperous enough. We would have made it.”
“But barely! I did it for you Mary, you and me so that we could live in father's house.”
“I would have rather left father’s house behind then help the Red Coats.”
“So you do not like the British? Then what are you going to do about it, Mary?”
“I’m going to talk to my friends. See what they are planning, Andrew. And perhaps...perhaps I will join them.” He picked up his hat and left, slamming the door behind him. Calmly, I got up and opened the door again, letting the summer air cool the tavern and welcome the guests inside. I watched Andrew walk down the road towards the house, wondering what I would say when I returned home.
****
Finally, as I saw the stars glimmering in the black sky, I told one of the workers to take over the tavern and I set off to Benjamin’s house. The breeze was cool and I was grateful after such a hot day. I let the air freely dance across my skin while I walked past many houses, gardens, and barns. At last, I reached the door. When I knocked, it simply creaked open as if inviting me in. There I saw Benjamin, deep in thought with a quill in his hand that hovered above a yellowish parchment. No doubt he was writing for the Country Journal.
“Benjamin?” He looked up at me, put his quill in the ink pot and walked over. How jealous I was of those words! How beautiful they looked, yet I would never be allowed to draw them. I knew such things were forbidden, and it angered me so. Benjamin saw me looking at the parchment and grinned. “I know you want to learn, Mary. I would teach you!”
I laughed. “Do not tempt me with such things, for God knows what Andrew would do if he found out!” He gave me another grin and asked me about the day. I told him about Andrew and what we had said to each other. “The time has finally come, Benjamin! I have realized that I do not support the British, and this organization Andrew spoke of intrigued me so! Now, tell me your plans! I would like to join, or help, anything I can do!”
Benjamin seemed pleased, yet sorrowful at the same time. I eagerly awaited his response. “My dear, indeed we are opposed to the British and want independence from their rule. Yet, to achieve this goal, there are some...events that must happen.” I nodded, listening carefully. “You see, Mary, in order to interfere with the British, there are a few things we must do.”
“Yes?” It seemed as though he were having trouble putting his words together. I thought for sure this would be quite an exciting event. “What is it you’re going to do?”
“Well, we need to get to their workers, their strongest allies, and have them resign, see?”
I nodded. “That sounds like a good plan, is there a way I can help?”
He hesitated. “Mary, you do know that, the only worker for the British in Boston...is Andrew.”
“My brother? Why, what are you planning to do?” Of course, I was angry with my brother, but I still loved him and would never cause him any harm.
“We need to scare him, show him that we are the boss now. Not the British. We must force him to resign.”
I shook my head. “That is not going to happen, Benjamin. You know he gave up everything for his job. He betrayed father's will, turned down the tavern...this job is his life, whether he likes it or not.”
“We have a plan, and I assure you it will work. Tomorrow actually, is when we are going to act.”
I looked at him blankly. “Were you going to tell me of this plan, Benjamin, or just leave me in the dark?”
“I thought that you would try to stop us...”
“So you would not have told me.”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“I thought you were a loyal friend, Benjamin. Andrew and I are fighting because of you and John. Well, more of that later, what is the plan?”
“I-I cannot tell you.”
“But you will, will you not? I told you everything, Benjamin! I turned to you when my mother died and when I decided to look after the tavern. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“I trust you. But I cannot tell you what will occur, for I would be betraying the organization, something I would never do.”
“Yet it is all right to betray me, your friend since childhood? What is more important to you, your friends, or your enemies?” I bit my lip in anger after this statement, and made my way through the door towards home. If anyone had cared to look, they would have noticed tears of anger and sadness rolling down my face. When I reached father's house, I passed Andrew with my head down hoping he would let me pass.
“Good night, Mary...” he called as I closed the door to my bedroom.
What a fool I was! Because of me, Andrew could get hurt, or be forced to resign! I told Benjamin that this job was his life, and indeed it was. How were they going to do this? I must stop them! All these thoughts rolled through my restless mind as I tried to summon sleep, but my conscience would not allow it. I needed a plan, some way to stop whatever they were doing. But how was I going to do that if I didn’t even know what they where doing?
****
I woke that morning before the sun had risen as always. Very little sleep I had that night, and my body was heavy with fatigue as a conclusion. While I sat down to eat my scrapple that morning, knowing that Andrew had already gone out to collect stamps, a fear was growing inside of me. I remembered that yesterday, Benjamin said his organization would take action today. Andrew would be back soon enough, but I had to tend to the tavern and could not warn him of danger. So, reluctantly, I slipped out of the house and walked to the tavern. Then I saw it.
On the tree that sat across from the tavern hung an effigy that read; “Andrew Oliver, the Earl of Bute.” I saw people gathered around an object that I could not get a good look at from my position. I slowly pushed through the crowd to get a better look. There was a boot. A simple boot with a devil figurine climbing out of it. Ah yes, what tricky fellows they where. My brother was also known as, “The Earl of Bute,” Bute being my mothers maiden name, and pronounced as “boot”. So they’re making a connection between my brother and the devil? An interesting way to get their point across, but it seemed to be working. Was this all? I wondered, but then I looked around through all of the people to see the sheriffs talking to Benjamin, John, and others. Some were regular custumers at the tavern, others I did not know by name or by sight. In their hands they held rocks, sharp and edged. “Let us pass!” Yelled John, motioning the rock towards the head sheriff.
“I cannot let you do that...in the name of the law, stop! or you will all be arrested...” He said weakly. Though despite the effort, he and the sheriffs that were following started to step backwards as the organization moved closer.
“You cannot stop us! We are the Sons of liberty! The Loyal Nine! The Rebellious Stripes! And you will see that what we are doing will work to your advantage!” Benjamin yelled angrily. The rest of “the Sons of Liberty” advanced, cheering catalytically.
“Stop this! these people are terrorists! People of the Massachusetts colony, do not trust these people! Look at them! They will harm you!” Governor Bernard told the people. Some cheered in agreement, but others raised objections.
“We will not hurt you, my friends. We are here to help you! We are here to repeal the Stamp Act!” the Sons and the people cheered loudly. “Now, let us pass!” yelled someone in the organization. The sheriffs backed away, helpless and afraid. As the Sons passed, I followed them along with the rest of the crowd.
They were going the way I walked, to my house! Andrew was surely there by now. The Sons of Liberty ran toward our house, father's house. Their angry, determined cries filled the air as they charged. I ran after them, the rest of the crowd standing aback.
“No! Stop!” I screamed. Some one from behind grabbed my arms to stop me. I looked around to see Benjamin’s face, and I faltered. “How could you do this!” I watched in horror as John took a torch and lit the barn on fire. The flames licked away at the wood, growing bigger, crackling loudly as if laughing in my face. The Sons threw rocks at the house which cracked and shattered the windows, the glass falling into the house and around the ground beneath them.
“Stop!!” I tried to yell but it came out simply as a whisper, choking on the lump that was now in my throat. In the upstairs window, I saw Andrew, scared, angry and threatened. He watched the barn burning, looked away and saw me, being held back by someone who I thought was my friend. Seeing his stare I tried desperatly harder to get at the Sons as they watched in glory the fire, as the flames reflected in the peices of shattered windows. But it was no use, Benjamin's grip was firm and tightened immensly as I tried to brake his grip, causing my wrists to burn with pain. “Get the effigy!” some one called. My eyes followed a tall, skinny looking man run back to the tree and Return a few moments later, effigy in hand. John took the effigy from him, withdrew a dagger and cut off its head. The sons laughed and cheered as I cried in horror while they threw the effigy into the flames of the barn.
****
The fire still burned in my mind as did the emotion in Andrew’s eyes as he stared out the window. I could still feel the tears that streamed down my face as I had looked at him. My own heart pounded hard, it was the only sound I was able to hear while wallowing in disappointment, and sadness. This environment, once my home, seemed so strange and lifeless. We never altered the house, for it reminded us of father. Not one thing had changed in or near the house since his death. Andrew stood beside me, constantly looking at the ashes, the house, then the ashes again.
“I am sorry.” I said softly as the wind scattered the ashes and made the grass dance with them. It took a while for him to answer.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Mary. Perhaps it was my fault in the first place. Maybe the day I took the job all of this was bound to happen.” He said, painfuly slow.
“Or maybe I was foolish to trust my friends and not my only family. I’m sorry.” He nodded and opened the door to the house, walking in. I followed, pausing to take one last glance at the ashes. “I will resign, Mary. There is nothing we can do now. You can see what they’re capable of, and because I am scared for us, they will win. I will help run the White Stag, and we can put it all behind us.”
Of course, I heard the disappointment in his voice. I knew it would not be that easy, but it was the only plan we had. It would have to do, for the last thing we wanted was another confrontation with the Sons.
“Don’t worry; you don’t need that job anymore. Work at the tavern. We’ll be fine. I promise.” He nodded and proceeded into his room for rest, it had been a long day and night had fallen long ago. Despite the fact that I was very tired and needed to rest my eyes, I could not even think of sleeping. So much was going on in my mind I could hardly breathe. It was overwhelming.
Benjamin...what had he done? Was this what he thought he needed to do to get back at the British? My brother? But, if Andrew weren't my brother...what would I have thought? I pondered this for a long while, and then I realized. No, I would not have cared. For all I know, I probably would have helped! I would have run with Benjamin and John as they burned the barn, the effigy, the yelling... but it was me this happened to, to my brother and me. Was I so selfish that I would have gone along if it were someone else? I started to wake up from these thoughts and resumed looking through the window. I saw a face, round and pale in the moonlight staring back at me. I opened my mouth to scream but the man put a hand to his lips, trying desperately to quiet me. “John?” No! Why was he here? I would not speak to him. I closed the shutters on the window with a "clamp" only to hear him knocking on the door a few minutes later. I did not answer and he started to knock harder. I knew that Andrew was sleeping and it would wake him if I continued to avoid John, so I reluctantly went over and opened the door.
“Go away!” I whispered. But he pushed past me and sat on the settle by the fireplace.
“Come, Mary . You may not want to but we need to talk.” I sighed, and sat down next to him.
"Listen, it was for the best."
"John! How can you just come in here and say what you did was right when my brother is devastated! Oh yes, John, everythings wonderful!"
"Now, Mary," he said, knowingly. "You said yourself to Benjamin that you were against the British. You even said it was a good idea to make the enforcer resign until you realized it was your brother! I know you would have been cheering us on that day if it were someone else."
"But it wasn't someone else, John. This is different..."
"Because it happened to you? But think! We have started taking away allies of the British, and the Sons of Liberty in the other colonies have started as well! Now perhaps, the Stamp Act will be repealed. And then we can work on greater deeds, and pull away from the British! We would have freedom, wouldn't it be joyous? Like a dream come true."
"You say this as though it would be at a cost to no one! You will be lucky if you are not claimed terrorists, or the British even notice your actions." I said.
"No, no I don't think you understand. We are no longer the Loyal Nine Mary. There are over two thousand of us from all the 13 colonies!" I eyed him, not believing what he said, but he continued. "We will help, Mary. We will help get away from the British. And we will have our own country." He looked at the wall as if in a dream. "How marvelous that will be. We will be recoreded in history, for doing nobel deeds! Will you aid us, Mary?"
Somehow, after all that had happened,what he did to my family and what a mark he had left in my mind, his words tempted me. No longer under the British rule? No, it was just a silly fantasy. Something we wish could happen, but would not. Or would it?
"Listen, Mary, out of all the people who are against us, I ask as a friend, that you support us."
I laughed. "As a friend, John? Am I supposed to befriend you after I betrayed my own brother for your sake, unaware that behind my back you where planning to ruin his life!"
He shook his head. "Think about it, Mary. I know what we did to your brother caused you both grief, and I am sorry for that. But now, it's over. And it's time for us, as the Sons of Liberty, to move on and keep attacking the British indirectly. Perhaps we are worthless, and this is the only thing we feel we can do to show people who we are. But it's something." Standing up, he nodded at me. "Thank you for your time." He said. I nodded back, and he took his leave.
"Why is everything so confusing?" I muttered to myself as I went to my bedroom.
****
"They came! And then there was Govorner Bernard-"
"They are terrorists!"
"Nonsense!"
"Everyone! Please!" I yelled, half laughing at how excited they where. "Listen closely and I will tell you what happened, alright?" This morning at the tavern it was busier then ever. As always, when something interesting happened, everyone gathered here, coming and going with different opinions on the event, wanting to hear what happened and to tell people what they thought. So, as my duty, I told the story of what happened that night. While interrupted by small comments or gasps, I tried to sound as calm as possible.
"My dear child!" someone said after the story was finished. "You must be devastated! We were all around, well most of us, when your father died. He was a great man and we were all suprised when your brother turned him down. But thanks to you, Mary, this tavern has done well for what, 50 years?" There were some murmmurs of agreement.
"I am shocked, yet we cannot change what has already happened, right? I am better off moving on."
"That is a good attitude to have, Mary." This comment was none other then Benjamin's. I quickly looked away from him and turned the other way to get some more brandy for a customer. "May I speak with you?"
"No." I replied.
"Thank you," he said loudly so the people would assume I accepted his invatation. He then pulled me to the back room and looked me in the eye. "Mary."
"Benjamin." I said unhappily.
"I do not wish to force your friendship. But I would be sorry if we were to lose it because of this deed." Benjamin was never very good at talking to people, he was talented at writing, but not with words of mouth.
"Oh, yes how tragic that would be. I forgive you." I said bitter and sarcastically.
"Mary, listen. I'm sorry! I'm sorry about what happened but it needed to be done. I'm sorry about what happened to Andrew but I don't want this to be personal."
"But it was. You lied to me. You betrayed me! And it will take much, much time for me to even think about resuming our friendship."
"This was not to hurt you, Mary. It was to hurt the British. You know that! And if I had told you, you know you would have tried to stop us. I was trying to make it as easy for both of us as possible. I'm sorry...please. Forgive me. We were best friends, Mary. This is just a small issue between us. We both have the same beliefs. We agree about the British." I knew there was no point in keeping a grudge, but Andrew...
"I do not hate you." I paused. "That is a step. Now please, either drink your brandy or leave. I have work to do."
I turned around to leave the storage room and re-enter the main tavern when he held me back.
"Thank you." he said.
Epilogue
Over time, things worked out. It was gradual and took many restless nights but things fit back into place. The Sons of Liberty indeed repealed the stamp act though it came back soon afterwards. They were all talked about after the Boston Tea Party, and I watched on that night. I did believe in their actions, though when I thought back to the night of August fourteenth, it pained me.
Andrew worked with me in the White Stag, and buissness was doing well. I later married Benjamin. My brother was happy for me yet unimpressed. I wonder if we will be free of the British, for lately it seems as though the idea is more real then I thought possible. Perhaps one day, but for now, all I can do is follow my heart and hope for the best.