Believe it or not, the next novel in the Tales From a Revolution is slated for release soon, and I wanted to share with you a brief excerpt, in the form of a letter penned by an anguished Loyalist in Massachusetts to her dear friend in exile in Nova Scotia.
The events at Plymouth Rock related in this letter took place as described, and it is hard to escape the thought that those who came around and saw the broken stone in the morning would have shuddered at what they portended, no matter which side they were on in the conflict.
My dear friend Susannah,
I was filled with Joy at receiving your letter; it was a most unexpected pleasure to have had Communication from your outpost so soon after your sad Departure. I feel keenly your absence, and am fairly bursting with things to tell you about. Paper is dear in these troubled Days, however, so I will restrain myself to only a few anecdotes. I am happy to relate that my especial Friend Ezekiel has taken up a Position of some responsibility, helping to guard the King’s custom house at the docks. He looks fine and tall standing watch, and he has bravely and patiently borne the Taunts of the rebellious rowdy boys who come around from time to time. Some of those selfsame rowdy boys or their Brothers in Spirit have committed a heinous Act, which I hesitate to relate, but which is so much on my mind in these days at the end of the year that I cannot but spare a few lines with which to unburthen myself to you. As you know, not far down the Coast from our formerly happy home is that precious Relic of the Arrival, the very Rock at which the Pilgrims alit at the end of their perilous Voyage hither. A crowd of Rowdy Boys determined to take it Prisoner to their own cause, and made to spirit it away to stand at their accursed so-called Liberty Tree. In the process of moving the Rock, they instead broke it into two pieces, and being of little Fortitude, suffered Half of the rock to lie in state where it fell, bringing the other to their blasphemous Shrine. I cannot but think that this is a Sign that they will find some measure of success in their efforts, but will in the process Break our People into Two Parts, transporting one part to places distant and foreign to us. As I write this Line, I realize that this Cruel Fate has already befallen my dear friend and correspondent, and my Tears threaten to pollute this Page. I shall turn now for a few lines of happier news. Our friend Louise, whom you will recall had been courting with a fine Man from nearer the Frontier, has announced her Promise to be joined with him in the happy Institution of matrimony this spring next. My heart overflows for her everlasting Joy, and I hope only that she is not contaminated by his family’s Whiggish Tendencies. No mean political difference can stand in the way of the heart’s true Desire, though, and I know that you will join me in wishing her all possible Joy of her engagement and hope for her fulfillment without regard for these Troubled Days. Please write soon and pour out the Inmost secrets of your heart to me without fear. I am particularly Intrigued by the details of your new Tutor, about which you were most mysterious in your former letter. Until I shall again hold your words to my breast, I am, your friend,