Among old New England inns; being an account of little journeys to various quaint inns and hostelries of colonial New England . you as I lovely baroness had stabbed herselfto the heart with that pen-knife which hadonce been the property of a Boston boniface. T03 CHAPTER VI SOME REVOLUTIONARY TAVERNS The tavern was the breeding-place parexcellence of the Revolution. What morenatural than for a lot of men, sitting arounda blazing fire and talking by the month oftheir wrongs, to say finally to each otherLet us rebel! Flip all around and thenmore flip would be drunk to this reso-lution; aft
Among old New England inns; being an account of little journeys to various quaint inns and hostelries of colonial New England . you as I lovely baroness had stabbed herselfto the heart with that pen-knife which hadonce been the property of a Boston boniface. T03 CHAPTER VI SOME REVOLUTIONARY TAVERNS The tavern was the breeding-place parexcellence of the Revolution. What morenatural than for a lot of men, sitting arounda blazing fire and talking by the month oftheir wrongs, to say finally to each otherLet us rebel! Flip all around and thenmore flip would be drunk to this reso-lution; after which our sturdy forefathers |would go home in the light of the twinklingstars full to the brim of patriotism, — and ofNew England rum. But they were by nomeans beside themselves with either. It wasan age of hard drinking and hard thinkingand very careful plans were laid ere thefirst seditionary step was taken. Occasionally, of course, the landlord wason the other side. Such was the case withCaptain Jones, keeper of the Golden BallTavern in Weston, Massachusetts, in whosehouse the British spy, John How, received 104. Some Revolutionary Taverns hospitality while out on a mission for GeneralGage previous to the battles of Lexingtonand Concord. It was a fine spring morning early inApril, 1775, that a loutish-looking fellowpresenting the appearance of a Yankeefarmer, strolled into the stable yard of theJoel Smith Tavern in the centre of Westonand asked for work. When questioned as towhat he could do, he said he was an expertgunsmith, and from that led the talk intowarlike channels. But he was a little tooglib, and he was soon told that no Britisherswere wanted for hire there. He protestedvehemently that he was not a Britisher, butthe men of this public house would havenone of him, asserting that they knew per-fectly well by his talk that he was a Britisherand a spy. By this time quite a crowd had gatheredin the tavern-yard and, to escape from theiranger, How hurried up the roa
Size: 1265px × 1976px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorcra, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjecthotels
