March 5, 1770
Dear Diary,
What happened today was most frightening. It happened late in the afternoon when the sun sets betwixt the trees. I was on my way home from the marketplace with information about the British Parliament, when I saw some patriots throwing balls of snow at a British patrol that keeps people at home during curfew. The frightened soldier called for help and a few other British patrols, with their Captain, Captain Thomas Preston, and his troop swarmed in from all sides. The patriots started yelling threats, and egging them on, saying, “Go ahead, shoot! You’d fight us with guns when we have only sticks, snow and rocks? What cowards! And to think that the Great Army of Britain would do that, I thought they knew what honor is!”
I guess that must have been too much for loyalists because what happened next was unexpected, but any loyalists would have been obliged. The mystery person cried ‘Fire!’ and The patrol squad fired the muskets with a deafening blast. After the smoke cleared from the shots, eleven men lay on the ground unmoving, among them was Crispus Attucks, a runaway slave who was wanted with a reward by his former master. He was a kindly fellow, the kind that would pay an extra tip at my father’s tavern on late afternoons. Another man that wasn’t moving was the gruff ropemaker, Samuel Gray, a man with a personality as gruff as his voice, but with a heart of gold, and a boy I recognized from the harbor. His name was James Caldwell, a boy of the age of 17 who was known for his sense of humor and his pranks on his fellow shipmates. He was always trying to sneak into my father’s tavern, The Liberty Bell, although his parents had forbidden it. Samuel Maverick was one of the unmoving, as well as Patrick Carr the skilled leather worker, and Christopher Monk. It was all quite a frightening afternoon, and that wasn’t even all of it. I’d overheard one of the Governor’s maids at the marketplace when I was gathering sugar for tonight’s dessert. She had said that the British Parliament was going to add tea to the list of things that are required a stamp tax. Hearing this, I knew that I should hurry home and tell father, who in turn will tell Samuel Adams at tonights Sons of Liberty meeting in The Liberty Bell. I was on my way home when the horror of the shooting unfolded. After the shots were had, and the unmoving collected, I hurried home, breathing hard, trying to get over that I’d just seen three men shot and killed by those British… by those British… British scum! That’s what they are! Taking over land that we fought for in the West and closing it off to keep a good relationship with the indians! They’re also trying to rule us! Absurd! A large continent being ruled by a tiny island hundreds of miles away just because they think they own us!? I’ve always been part of the Patriot cause. I was taught to fight for freedom and what is right in the world by my father, Thomas Merriman, and my mother who passed away from yellow fever when I was four years old, seven long years ago.
I paused in my reading and thought how I had finally found something I could relate to with Marideth, the loss of a mother, the loss of a loved one, one who always took care of you, who always kept you safe. I knew what it felt like, a whole being ripped in your heart, you feel lost, and no matter what you do, you can’t fill the whole. It’s an eternal hole that will stay with you forever. After remembering my loss and mourning, I read on.
The British have gone too far, it’s time they knew what we Patriots can do! Just because they have fancy coats, powdered wigs and shoes by the finest shoemaker in Britain doesn’t mean they’re better than we colonists! We’re the people who actually fought for this land that we live in and we were the ones who won it, not the British, but the colonists!
Still hoping for a brighter tomorrow,
Marideth Merriman
