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Defiance of the Patriots: The Boston Tea Party and the Making of America, by Benjamin L. Carp, is hot off the presses and available for sale today at your local book store or from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Borders, Powell’s and Yale University Press. Some online book stores still show a publish date as October 25, but the publisher shipped early so the book should be ready any moment.

I’ve only read the first four chapters (of 10) so far, but I already place Defiance of the Patriots safely among my favorite history books. In fact, it may be top 10 material. J.L. Bell of Boston 1775 puts it best: “For folks interested in the real story of the Tea Party, Defiance of the Patriots is the most thorough and wide-ranging account out there.”

I first heard about Defiance of the Patriots back in April. I had just shared, via Rag Linen, a 1774 newspaper report on the unexpected consequences of the Boston Tea Party. Not long after sharing the historic report, I learned, via Twitter, from J.L. Bell, that the 1774 news item confirms the thesis of Benjamin Carp’s upcoming book. Specifically, that pressure to look good to other ports made Bostonians act radical.

Excited for the new book and its in-depth analysis of the Boston Tea Party, especially after reading this Tufts Journal piece, I contacted Benjamin and invited him to contribute a short piece for the readers of Rag Linen. Benjamin was very kind to accept my offer and has even shared some excerpts from his book, which are appropriately themed. Without further ado…

In 1773, newspapers were the colonists’ primary means of communicating and influencing public opinion. Parliament had passed the Tea Act, and Bostonians were mobilizing against what they regarded as an unjust law. This political movement had two crucial ingredients: communication between Boston and its neighboring towns (who helped comprise the “Body of the People” meetings at the Old South Meeting House), and communication between Boston and the other cities that were receiving tea shipments from the East India Company: New York City, Philadelphia, and Charleston. Neighboring towns and sister cities helped to spread the reasons for resistance and build an atmosphere of mutual reassurance. Newspapers also helped to draw boundaries within the community by publishing threats to the consignees—the merchants who were designated to receive the tea shipments from the East India Company. The consignees and their supporters tried to give as good as they got in the newspapers, but they failed to sway public opinion.

Here are two excerpts from the book that help to illustrate the significance of newspapers. The first, from page 84, describes Bostonians’ reaction to news of the Tea Act, and the newspaper squabbles that followed.

The consignees . . . had no desire to turn down the lucrative Company contract. Richard Clarke took to the newspapers, as “Z.,” to argue that the Tea Act wasn’t such a bad thing. By eliminating the middleman, the new law would make tea cheaper. He was confused about why the Tea Act suddenly caused Bostonians to yelp about the Townshend duty, since the people of Massachusetts had been importing plenty of dutied tea over the last few years. For that matter, Americans silently paid much more to Parliament in duties on wine, sugar, and molasses—why complain about tea? . . . Finally, Clarke argued, the East India Company could prove to be an ally in the fight for charter rights, and might help Americans get the tea duty removed—so long as the colonists didn’t try to ruin the Company’s sales with “unsuitable Behaviour.”

But these arguments failed to sway public opinion in Boston, where the public was forming ranks alongside the Sons of Liberty.

Instead, the consignees began to hear warnings about what would happen to them if they defied their neighbors. On November 1, the Boston Gazette reprinted a letter from “PHILELEUTHEROS” (Greek for “freedom lover”). “Secure yourselves,” this New York writer warned, “from the gathering storm, before it . . . overwhelms you with a sudden, dreadful, and sure destruction.” If the consignees persisted in injuring their country by importing tea, they would not be safe no matter how many troops and fortified walls might surround them. “You cannot readily become your own cooks, butchers, butlers, nor bakers: You will therefore be liable, to be suddenly, and unexpectedly taken off, in the midst of your confidence and supposed security, by those whom you may chance to confide in, and employ. ”The author called upon a local Brutus or Cassius “to sheath their daggers in the hearts of such base, such abandoned and infamous Parricides.” If the consignees hoped to profit from their treason, the author warned, the triumph would be short-lived. Guilt, hatred, and infamy would be their lot for generations to come. The choice was now the consignees’ to make. Threats to their safety lurked around every corner. The consignees would have to watch their backs.

This second passage, from page 139, describes the aftermath of the Boston Tea Party.

The tide swelled into Boston harbor overnight. There was no moonlight to mark the tea’s passage as it slipped away on the churning waves. Eventually the broken chests and clumps of tea formed a floating line, like a winrow of hay, along the surface of the water. The line ran from the South End of Boston along the Dorchester shore to Castle Island, almost as a taunt to the consignees and commissioners. “Those persons who were from the country returned with a merry heart; and the next day joy appeared in almost every countenance, some on occasion of the destruction of the tea, others on account of the quietness with which it was effected.”

Of course, not every countenance was joyful. Admiral John Montagu had been forced to watch the destruction of the tea without being able to lift a finger in response. On the morning after the Tea Party, he took a stroll on the wharf and looked with astonishment at the scene of devastation. He asked some of the Bostonians, “who was to pay the fidler” now? Perhaps they answered with a sudden fear and foreboding, perhaps with a jeering smugness. “The Devil is in this people,” Montagu concluded, “for they pay no more respect to an act of the British Parliament, which can make England tremble, than to an old newspaper.” He then stalked off the wharf.

According to a November 1, 1773 letter from an officer in New York to his friend in London, seven weeks before the Boston Tea Party, :

All America is in a flame on account of Tea-Exportation. The New-Yorkers as well as the Bostonians and Philadelphians, are, it seems, determined that no Tea shall be landed. They have published a paper in numbers called the Alarm. It begins first with “Dear Countrymen,” and then goes on exhorting them to open their eyes, and like the Sons of Liberty throw off all connection with the tyrant their Mother Country. They have on this occasion raised a company of artillery, and every day almost are practicing at a target. Their independent companies are out at exercise every day. The minds of the lower people are inflamed by the examples of some of their principals. They swear that they will burn every ship that comes in; but I believe our six and twelve pounders, with the Royal Welsh Fuziliers, will prevent any thing of that kind.

The Alarm being referenced was a broadside authored by John Dickinson in which urged “Beware of the East-India Company.”

The exact excerpt from above, as published in the April 18, 1774 Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet, under the dateline London, January 25, appears below. Following are two more interesting letter extracts from the same newspaper that present excellent perspective and insight into the colonial (not just Boston) tension percolating in late 1773 and early 1774.

Also read Boston 1775′s “Boston Mobilizes Against the Tea“.

The first episode of History Channel’s “America: The Story of Us” stated that the value of the tea dumped into the harbor during the Boston Tea Party was $1 million. That reminded me of Dunlap’s Pennsylvania Packet from April 18, 1774, which published some interesting post-party items, including one about the value of the tea.

According to the Packet, “it is said that the tea thrown into the Sea at Boston is valued at 18,000 l. at 1s. 6d. per pound. The whole sent to America is said to be worth about 300,000 l. which is returning home, not being suffered to be landed.”

Using the Bank of England’s inflation calculator, £18,000 in 1774 (I rounded up) translates to £2,023,200 today.  That’s an average of two percent inflation per year. Converting £2.023 million to USD via XE.com, I found the value of the tea destroyed on December 16, 1773 to be $3,091,687 (more than $2 million higher than the History Channel’s estimate).

According to Wesley Griswold’s The Night The Revolution Began “the figure varies with nearly every source, and ranges from as low as £8000 to as high as £18000.”

So I checked to see if the History Channel was using the low estimate.  Using the £8000 variable, I found today’s value of the tea destroyed on December 16, 1773 is $1,374,083 (still much higher than the History Channel’s quote).

If £8000 was the low estimate and £18,000 was the high, that leaves £13,000 as the median estimate. Figuring £13,000 would be the most accurate measure, I threw it in the inflation and conversion calculators and found today’s value of the tea dumped in Boston harbor on December 16, 1773 to be $2,232,885.

Can anyone tell me how/where the History Channel came up with $1 million?  What’s the most accurate estimate?

Supplementing his weekly Massachusetts Spy newspaper, perhaps to satisfy a demand for more hard-hitting anti-British essays and illustrations, Isaiah Thomas printed the first issue of Royal American Magazine in January 1774.  The magazine was published every month until the eve of the Revolutionary War and featured Paul Revere and John Hancock among its many contributors.

“Besides the usual variety of general literature, this work contains a faithful summary of the public transactions of Boston during that eventful year, and great value is added to the work by the public documents preserved in its pages,” according to Samuel Burnside, Memoir of Isaiah Thomas, Transactions and Collections of the American Antiquarian Society.

Below is an early — possibly the earliest — advertisement for the premier issue of Royal American Magazine, as published in Thomas’ Massachusetts Spy on October 14, 1773.

Source: The Pennsylvania Packet, September 13, 1773

If a finger had to be pointed at one person for causing the American Revolutionary War, a strong case can be made for pointing it at Thomas Hutchinson.

According to the Origins of the American Revolution by Andrew Stephen Walmsley (1999):

Rarely in American history has a political figure been so pilloried and despised by his contemporaries as Thomas Hutchinson… Vilified, stigmatized, and ridiculed, he eventually became the pre-eminent bete noire or scapegoat of America’s most vigorous radical activists. By 1774 he was arguably the most unpopular man in North America. His name had become synonymous in the popular imagination with detested loyalism, hated toryism and treason… One of the greatest challenges to confront Massachusetts’ radicals throughout the years of imperial crisis was to develop an effective formula for ousting Hutchinson. Without him as their foil, Boston’s radicals would have had a far more difficult time engineering the crisis that produced the Revolution.

The Hutchinson letters affair was one of the most famous controversies tied to Hutchinson, as well as Benjamin Franklin. The Hutchinson letters that Franklin leaked to his friend in Boston were eventually published in June 1773 in the Boston Gazette. Likely used as war propaganda, the New-England Chronicle republished the Hutchinson letters in June and July of 1775 — click here to read some of the Thomas Hutchinson letters printed in the June 29 to July 6, 1775 issue of the New-England Chronicle.

Equally interesting about the Hutchinson letters affair is the Benjamin Franklin confession (but no apology).  According to Walter Isaacson’s biography on Franklin:

In December, two men engaged in an inconclusive duel in Hyde Park after one accused the other of leaking the letters.  When a rematch seemed imminent, Franklin felt he had to step forward… he wrote… a letter to the London Chronicle on Christmas Day (published December 27). But he did not apologize.

Franklin’s public confession led to his appearance before the Privy Council, which many historians point to as the moment when Franklin officially stopped supporting Britain and became an American revolutionary.

Below is Benjamin Franklin’s public confession to leaking the Hutchinson letters as published in the March 7, 1774 Boston Gazette.