Declaration of War

by Naturegirlbella

I wrote this for writing class last year and decided to post it on here as a one-shot. Mercy is a fourteen year old girl growing up in colonial America. Read from her point of view as she witnesses one of the most important events in American History.

Isabella Young

Mrs. Switzer

MS Writing

3 December 2011

Changes for Boston

Every thing seemed normal that day - the way the crisp, cold December air forced me to pull my shawl tighter around my shoulders, and the way my silver locket rested right over my heart, the metal glinting in the bright, winter sun. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mercy Mahaila Archer. I had turned fourteen the week before, but that would be the last time that I would celebrate on my birthday for a very long time. On that day, December 16, 1773, everything was about to change.

That afternoon, I was just returning home from my classes, when my brother, Samuel, rushed up to me. Samuel is sixteen, so seeing him run toward me like a child instantly told me something important was happening. When he reached me, his eyes gleamed with excitement, but before he spoke, he made sure no one was close enough to hear. After becoming sure no one was listening, he leaned down and whispered, "Tonight, Mercy. Tonight is the night that things will change for us. I heard some Sons of Liberty talking about it. We are meeting at Griffin's Wharf tonight. Paul Revere and Samuel Adams are leading two groups of people to get rid of the tea without paying tax on it."

After he finished his announcement, all I could do was stare. So many things were going on in my head. Is he making this up? Did he really hear it, but it is just a village rumor? Is he really considering taking part in this rebellious venture? When I once again remembered how to speak English, I said, "Samuel, you know Mother and Father would never let you openly oppose the king! How do you plan to put this past them?" but in that

moment, I knew the truth. He wasn't going to put it past them. Our parents were fully loyal to King George III. They scorned the Sons of Liberty, but the treacherous men were Samuel's idols. If they were ever to find out that Samuel and I sided with the revolting colonists, we would surely move back to England where we could no longer hear words of rebellion and treason.

"Mercy, promise me you won't tell them. This is important! They will need all the men they can get. I have to do this." he pleaded, arousing me from my thoughts.

A tiny part of me wanted to run home and tell Mother and Father right then. Yet, another part of me, the part of me that wanted to escape from the rule of a king that was thousands of miles away, won out. "I promise, Samuel." I vowed, and with a quick nod of thanks, he hurried off to his job at the blacksmith's forge. Not for a moment did I stop to think how important this little complexity with the tea might turn into something much bigger.

That night, the slightly waning moon lit my path, as I followed Samuel into the night. His footsteps echoed on the cobblestone streets. I watched as the last traces of his familiar shape were swallowed by the darkness. I was left to follow as quickly as I could in my dress and cloak that kept getting caught in my heeled slippers that were not meant for walking so quickly. As I rounded the last corner, I saw Samuel joining a large group of men huddled together behind a tower of crates. A small barrel provided me with a perfect hiding spot. I swallowed a cry of surprise when I realized that several of the men were wearing feathered headdresses and carrying tomahawks. My fear was soon replaced with relief, however, when I recognized Paul Revere as one of the war-painted men.

All of the sudden, Paul Revere and Sam Adams burst out of their hiding spot and ran toward the ship with a flood of men behind them. Tomahawks were flying. Tea crates were chopped open. As the precious herbs trickled out, another man would yank the crate up and throw it into the sea. Crate after crate was catapulted into the harbor until there were no more crates left in the hold. Then, as suddenly as the chaos had started, it stopped. The men walked peacefully back to their homes, satisfied with the job they had done. I crept quietly back home, excited by what I had just seen. It had ignited a spark of rebellion in me. And that is when I knew, that this event, which would be forever known in history as the Boston Tea Party, was the start of something that would change life in America forever.