“Yes, and I’ll take her to the minister to christen her myself if I must.”
“It’s thoughtful of you to want to name her after your grandmother,” Margaret Lankford said, “but I do think Uncle Ethan and Aunt Dancy should choose the name for their own daughter.”
“But isn’t it obvious?” Lydia asked her mother. “Her name must be Margaret. The original Margaret Turner—Kathleen Margaret Turner, your mother and my grandmother—brought this family into being when she had you and Uncle Ethan and Uncle Cuyler. She wanted our family to love each other. Now her little granddaughter was born on the night of the massacre, and she has brought the family together in spite of our differences—just like Grandma would have wanted.”
“I agree with Lydia,” Stephen said, grimacing as he pulled himself to a full sitting position. “The baby’s name should be Margaret. And she is not named only for our grandmother, but for all the family that came before her.”
“Stephen and Lydia have my vote.” Will stepped forward and took the baby from Lydia. He studied the infant’s face.
“I haven’t paid enough attention to you, little one,” he said tenderly. “But whatever is ahead for Boston and the rest of the colonies, you will be among those who face the future. It is only right that you should have a name that reminds you of your past.”
Aunt Dancy and Uncle Ethan looked at each other and laughed. “Margaret it is,” Uncle Ethan said.
“Your grandmother would be proud,” said Mama.
Stephen lay back contentedly. Everyone he loved best in the world was in that room right then—even Lydia. War could rage through the streets of Boston, but what mattered most were the people around him right then, no matter what their politics.
But for the moment, he was going to enjoy the benefits that came with being a patient. “I’m ready for that tea and toast now.”
Kate and the
Spies
JoAnn A. Grote
A NOTE TO READERS
While the Miltons and Langs are fictional, the turmoil in Boston leading up to the Revolutionary War is not. By the time war broke out, one in every four people in Boston was a British soldier. These soldiers were everywhere—in people’s homes, businesses, and public meetinghouses. Whether citizens were Loyalists or Patriots, most of them wished there were far fewer in their town. In spite of all the soldiers, Patriots continued to work secretly for American rights.
CONTENTS
1. Mysterious Visitors
2. A Wild Tea Party
3. What Happened to Liberty?
4. Will Boston Starve?
5. Signs of War
6. A Spy
7. The Warning
8. A Secret Code
9. Escape from Boston
10. A Dangerous Mission
11. The Deserter
12. A Safely Delivered “Package”
13. Fighting Friends and a Late-Night Secret
14. The Raid
15. Danger
16. A Mission of Mercy
17. War!
CHAPTER 1
Mysterious Visitors
Boston, December 16, 1773
O of!”
Eleven-year-old Kate Milton braced against the crowd that dragged her and her cousin Colin Lang along. Whistles and yells from merchants, craftsmen, and seamen filled the early night air.
“A Boston tea party tonight!” called a large man beside her. From the smell of him, Kate guessed he was one of Boston’s many fishermen.
Kate struggled to keep her footing on the slippery wet stones of Boston’s Milk Street. She hung on tightly to Colin’s arm, clinging to him for support. Thousands of people filled the streets. She had never seen such a crowd in Boston. She and her cousin had no choice but to go the same way as everyone else. Her heart beat like crazy beneath her wool bodice. She and Colin had wondered for weeks what would happen tonight, and now they were about to find out!
“Where’s everyone going?” Kate had to yell to be heard. She tipped her head back, trying to see Colin’s face, but he was taller than she was, and his face was turned away as he scanned the crowd. Kate stood on tiptoes and pushed back the gray wool cloak from her blond curls, but she could still only see the backs of the people ahead of them.
“We’re headed toward Griffin Wharf at Boston Harbor,” Colin shouted. “The tea ships are there.”
Kate felt fear settle in her chest like a rock. “Are the people going to hurt the crews? Will they sink the ships?”
“I don’t think so,” her cousin answered. “People aren’t carrying weapons or sticks or stones.”
When they reached Griffin Wharf, Kate had to step carefully to keep from tripping on the slippery wooden planks and huge coils of rope. Beneath them, water lapped at the tall wooden poles that held up the dock.
The people filled the wharf to the very end. Judging by the light from tin and wooden lanterns on long wooden torches that people carried, Kate guessed the next wharf was just as crowded.
The Dartmouth, one of three ships carrying tea, rose high above them. It tugged at the thick ropes tying it to the pier. The other two tea ships were anchored nearby.
Kate looked at the three ships, dark outlines against the darker sky of early evening. With their sails rolled up, the ships’ straight pine masts stood like tall, leafless trees, but the ships themselves were like great winged beasts, poised to swoop into the air. “The ships look like dragons, don’t they?” Kate whispered.
Will the ships still be here in the morning? she wondered. Will the tea?
At least the rain had stopped. The December chill crept through Griffin Wharf’s wet wooden planks, up through the soles of Kate’s leather shoes, through the three layers of itchy wool stockings, through the woolen petticoats beneath her gown, and right into her bones. She shivered, yanked her hood over her head again, and wrapped her cloak more tightly around her shoulders.
It’s not only the cold that makes me shiver, she thought. It’s fear. Fear for Boston. Fear of the unknown. Fear for her older cousin Harrison’s life.
The fear had been crawling inside her ever since that day two weeks ago at her uncle’s print shop. That was when Harry had told Colin and Kate what might happen and had asked them to help.
They’d been printing handbills, or posters, for the Sons of Liberty. Kate didn’t mind helping, but she liked helping her father better. Her father was Dr. Firth Milton, and Kate was fascinated with the thought that he could actually do something to help sick people heal.
As he had talked to them, Harry’s eyes, as brown as Colin’s, had flashed with excitement. He’d leaned across the huge printing press and told them the plan in a loud whisper. “The law says the Dartmouth has to either leave Boston on December sixteenth or unload its tea by then.”
“I know.” Colin and Kate were hanging up copies of the paper, fresh from the press, to dry. “They’ve only fourteen days left.”
“Mark my words, the tea won’t be unloaded or sold here.”
Kate frowned. She always felt so powerless in the face of all the events that swirled around her, but Harry sounded as confident as if he had some control over what happened. Harrison was twenty-two, nine years older than Colin. He was an adult, and a man besides, while Kate was only a little girl. Still, what could he or the other men do? “I don’t understand,” Kate said.
Harry spoke quickly, excitedly. “If the ships are unloaded here, we Patriots will do it ourselves. It will take lots of hands. We need men and boys to help who aren’t well known in town.” He glanced at Kate. “You’d pass for a boy if you tucked your hair up inside a hat and wore some of Colin’s old clothes. We need people to help us who can be trusted not to tell what they do that night—not before and not after. You’re Patriots, the both of you, and I’d trust you with my life.”
Pride flooded Kate at her cousin’s words, but she still felt uneasy.
“I’m a Patriot, all right,” Colin said proudly, “and I’ll keep your secret. You can count o
n us.”
Kate nodded silently. What else could she do? She couldn’t let Harry down.
Kate knew her father referred to people like Harry as rebels, but she had to admit she liked the word “Patriot” better. Rebel sounded like an enemy of King George III. Patriot sounded like a loyal British citizen, and that’s what both Colin and Harry were. And so was she, she supposed.
Harry grinned at the two children. “Then you’ll help?”
“I don’t know.” Kate still wasn’t certain about this. “How are you going to unload the tea?”
“We’re going to throw the tea into the harbor.”
Kate’s heart thumped like a drum. “You’re going to ruin it?” Her voice rose in a squeak, and Harry waved his hand to shush her. He nodded once, sharply.
“But … but that’s like stealing!” Kate’s chest hurt from the deep breaths she was taking. Surely her cousin wouldn’t steal, even to keep the tea out of Boston!
“We’ll only do it if we have to. We’re trying to get the governor to send the ships away with the tea. If he does, we won’t have to toss the tea overboard.”
“What if the governor has you arrested for dumping the tea?” Colin asked.
“That’s why we need boys that most adults in town won’t know. Lots of boys your age are helping. Are you with us?” Harry looked from Colin to Kate.
Kate swallowed. “I can’t. It’s too much like stealing.”
She was relieved when Colin nodded his agreement. Would Harry think they were cowards? Colin and Harry looked alike, and they were both Patriots, but in many ways the two brothers were very different. Harry was always doing exciting things, while Colin was quiet, serious. He thought things through carefully before making decisions. Still, Kate knew how much Colin looked up to his older brother.
“You have to do what you believe is right,” Harry said.
Colin let out his breath with relief. Kate knew he had been scared Harry would be angry with him.
“But,” Harry continued, “I have to do what I believe is right, too. I know you won’t tell anyone what I’ve told you.”
Neither of them had told anyone Harry’s secret. Kate would have liked to talk things over with her father, but she knew she couldn’t. Her parents were Loyalists, who believed the Patriots should do as Parliament and the king said, even if what they said was wrong. He wouldn’t want to get Harry in trouble, but if her father knew Harry’s secret, he might think it was his duty to tell the British admiral. Then Harry’s friends would be in trouble.
Kate just wanted to go home. She tugged at her cousin’s coat sleeve. “Let’s go.”
“We’ll never make it through this crowd.” Colin’s teeth were chattering so hard that Kate could barely understand him. “If only the governor had let the Dartmouth leave tonight with her tea, everything would have been fine.”
“Why are people making such a fuss about the tea?” Kate asked. “The tax on it is small, and people like tea.” She had heard people talk about the tea in her uncle’s print shop many times, but she still couldn’t really understand why everyone was so upset. When she was with Colin, she called herself a Patriot because he was one—but when she was with her own family, she couldn’t help but think that their point of view made sense, too.
“In Britain,” Colin explained, “Parliament passed the tea tax law. Older laws say only people who serve us can pass laws taxing us. No one in Parliament serves the Americas.”
Kate’s gray wool cloak lifted as she shrugged her shoulders. “‘Taxation without representation.’ People say that all the time. But the king chose representatives for the American colonies.”
“Those men vote the way the king wants, or they lose their jobs. If we elected them, they’d have to vote the way we want.”
“Parliament has a right to make laws, even if Americans don’t like them.” Kate’s pointed chin jutted out. Sometimes out of sheer stubbornness, she liked to argue with Colin, trying to make him see the Loyalists’ perspective.
As she spoke, the crowd grew suddenly still. Kate looked around, hoping no one had heard her. What was happening? She stretched onto her tiptoes, trying to see above the people. “I hate being short!”
The crowd opened to let a few raggedly dressed boys and men through.
Kate grabbed Colin’s arm. “Indians!”
The newcomers were only pretending to be Indians, she realized as they drew closer. Anyone could tell they weren’t genuine natives. She could smell the grease and soot they’d used to darken their faces. Swipes of paint brightened some noses. Knit caps hid hair. Feathers were stuck in a few caps. Blankets draped over shoulders.
But it was what they carried that made Kate’s heart beat faster: metal things that glittered in the light from the torches and lanterns. “Axes!” she whispered. “What are they going to do with them?”
No one answered her.
As more “Indians” came, people pressed even closer together to give them room. Kate thought there must be over one hundred of them.
One of the ragged, smelly young men bumped against Kate. The man winked at her and then passed on to join the others.
Kate stared after him, then nudged Colin. Harrison!
CHAPTER 2
A Wild Tea Party
Harry was helping the “Indians” pull one of the other two tea ships up to the wharf. Fear made Kate’s stomach feel like it was wrapped around itself as tightly as the thick ropes tying the ships to the wharf were coiled. What was going to happen? Would Harry and the other Patriots dare go through with their plan?
In the moonlight, she could see the harbor was filled with every size and kind of ship and boat, just as it had been all her life. Somewhere out there in the dark harbor, British soldiers were stationed at the fort on Castle Island. Warships were in the harbor, too. She could see the lanterns on the British man-of-war that bobbed only a quarter-mile away. All of Boston knew that the governor had ordered the ships and fort to fire their cannons on the tea ships if they left the harbor with the tea on board.
She yanked on Colin’s sleeve again. “Do you think the men-of-war will fire their cannons at these Indians?”
“Of course not. They might hurt innocent people.”
Kate crossed her arms. “Those Sons of Liberty,” she hissed. “Sons of Trouble, Papa calls them. He says they’re nothing but troublemakers, always stirring people up. There must be other ways to get Britain to listen to what people want.”
Colin didn’t answer. She knew he wouldn’t criticize the Sons of Liberty, even if he might secretly agree with her. After all, his brother, Harry, was a Son of Liberty.
Kate studied the “Indians.” Many looked like they might be about her age or a little older. Were any of them Colin’s friends?
Five more joined the group. A man who acted like a leader greeted them by saying, “Me know you.” The voice sounded familiar. The five repeated the three words. Kate guessed it was a sign, a way the “Indians” would know there wasn’t a spy in the group. They didn’t sound like Indians, though, and her lip curled. They were like little boys playing a game of make-believe. But she knew there could be serious consequences to this game.
The moonlight rested on the man’s face. Kate squinted at him. Was that Paul Revere, the silversmith who stopped at the printing shop to talk with Harry so often? Surely not. Harry had said they wanted people who wouldn’t be recognized, and lots of people knew Mr. Revere. Still, the man’s voice had sounded like Mr. Revere’s.
The “Indians” quietly boarded the three tea ships. Standing close to the Dartmouth, Kate heard someone on deck say, “We no hurt your ship, Captain, only the tea. Please bring lanterns.”
Was the speaker afraid someone would recognize his voice if he spoke normally? Kate wondered.
In a few minutes, lanterns shone on the three ships’ decks. Then came whack! whack! whack!—the sound of axes chopping open wooden chests. In the light from the lanterns and the moon, Kate and the crowd watched smashed boxes
drop over the ships’ sides.
Kate gasped. “They’re really doing it! They are throwing the tea into the water! Where are the constables, or the night watchmen, or the marines?”
“I guess they can’t get through the crowd,” Colin answered. “Maybe they don’t know what’s happening.”
“We were right, Colin,” Kate whispered. “I don’t care what Harry said. These people are no better than thieves! Why doesn’t someone stop them?”
“No one wants trouble, Kate. They just want the tea unloaded tonight like the law says it must be.”
“The law doesn’t mean it’s to be unloaded this way, and you know it!”
Colin shifted his feet uncomfortably. Kate knew that what was happening was illegal. Still, she had to admit that the Patriots had tried to have it sent legally away from Boston first.
She was surprised to see both Loyalists and Patriots watching quietly. Did the Loyalists think, like the Patriots, that destroying the tea was the only thing left to do?
She didn’t see any of the Patriot leaders in the crowd. She and Colin had seen Sam Adams, John Hancock, Josiah Quincy, and Dr. Warren earlier at the town meeting at Old South. Was it too dangerous for them to be seen here?
The terrible “game” went on for three hours. The children stood frozen, trapped by the crowd, listening to the whack of axes, the sound of canvas tearing—Kate guessed that was the bags inside the wooden chests, bags meant to keep the tea dry if the chests got wet. The bags wouldn’t help now.
Splintered chests splashed as they landed alongside the ships, and the wooden chests bobbed in the moonlight. Spilled tea drifted like seaweed on top of the dark water. She could smell the tea over the strong smell of sea and fish.
Her legs had long ago grown tired, and her feet ached. She leaned on Colin, though she knew he must be tired, too. But she had forgotten about leaving. Something kept her there, as though she needed to bear witness to something important that was unfolding out there in the harbor. No one else left, either.
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