Abigail Adams ~ by River

Revolutionary War:

"You go into the battlefield, because you are stronger and larger and know about the war, and we will stay home and keep the children cared for, that they may grow up strong to help you by and by; we will spin and weave day and night to keep you in yarn for stockings, and in cloth for clothes and blankets to keep you warm; we will plant, and harvest, and grind the corn, and do all your work on the farm that here may be food to send you, and food to keep you from starving when you all come home again." I said this to my husband as he left for war against Britain, a long time ago. I said this to him to remind him that someone still has to do the work, that the women are also fighting this war. If it wasn't for us, the men wouldn't be free to fight in the war, there wouldn't be anyone to fight in the war. Who would do the men's work? Women, that's who.

Pre-War:

Before I get too far into my war story, I think I should tell you a bit about myself. I used to be young. I was fair and had wonderful times. I was and still am a well-educated woman, though I am self-taught. I was married to my husband John on October 25, 1764. During our first ten years of marriage, I gave birth to six children, but only five of them survived. My first child was a girl, Abigail. We called her Nabby. My second child was my first son, John Quincy Adams. Susanna was my third, then Charles, and then Thomas. My sixth child, Elizabeth, was my last. She died as an infant. I love all my children very much, and wouldn't want anything to happen to them, but when I think about Elizabeth, my heart falls.


1765 - The Stamp Act:

I think often of 1765. I remember the first time I heard of the "Stamp Act" - it was an evil time for me...


"John, will you pick me up some tea please?" I said in my pleading voice. He laughed loudly. I was shocked! How dare he laugh at me.

"Sorry but you're going to have to make your own tea!" he said.

More shock was appearing on my face. My own tea?! I thought. "But I thought that stamp act was just a silly mistake; I thought you already communicated with the king," I said to my husband in a curious voice.


He looked at me like I was crazy; I could hear his heart beating. It was so quiet. Ba boom, Ba boom! "Well, then, I guess I should be on my way," my husband said after the awkward moment of silence. "I'm off to go with Sam, Paul, and George." He was a Son of Liberty. Sons of Liberty were very interesting to me, they fought in war to demand that they were treated fairly by the King, but they also tarred and feathered Tories. Humph men can be such children. If John wasn't in Sons of Liberty, he could spend even more time with me and the children. But, being a member was John's dream; it was his passion! I respected that passion even tough I was jealous of his time spent away from the family.

As I lived with the boycott of the Stamp Act, I was at the edge of outrage! I didn't want to give up my British made-dress and the wonderful tea they had. Instead, I was drinking Liberty Tea.

"EWW!" "What is this?!" I asked my friend Betty.

"Liberty Tea darling!" She said with a sweet smile. It tasted like cat nip. That's just what it was. "I'm off to get some more sage. See you in a bit."

Sage? I thought, In the tea!...That was just great!

Tar and Feathers:

That day had dragged on when I decided to get away from the house and the children for a while and went for a evening stroll, but that evening stroll was one of the worst. I never thought I would see what I was about to witness. Tar and feathers were everywhere. I didn't know what was happening, but as the moon glinted on the beautiful liberty tree, I saw my husband and his group tarring a Tory! I wasn't mad; I was scared! I hide behind another tree so he wouldn't see me, but as I watched, I thought, Has the King really brought him this far from the kind and gentle person I married? I could understand killing on the battlefield where his own life was in danger, but this? The tar was seeping through the victim's skin, slowly suffocating the surface. It was burning the life out of the victim. As if the pain from the tar was not enough, the embarrassment of the feathers was terrible. Before the victim died, he was forced to endure the final humiliation of choking down Britain's tea.

All of the pain and torture...all that was happening to the victim was happening under the beautiful liberty tree. This is all I could see in my head, the screams were all I could hear. All I could feel was pricking of my skin. My arms were tingling and it felt like my feet were swelling because they waned to run. Fighting for freedom had brought him to this. He really did go around killing Tories. Now I knew how serious this was to him, and why he laughed and gave that strange look to me, when I asked him to pick me up some tea. I had to buckle down and take his cause more seriously seriously. I walked away without him noticing me. I wasn't scared anymore; I was almost proud. Almost. This really was his passion, and I finally understood.

The Tea Party:

I was looking for a way to make a difference when Mr. Thomas Hutchinson came to us with a plan. "GO GO GO" Thomas Hutchinson said in a hushed voice. "Hurry, everybody is ready and dressed."

It was the day I remember so well; it was the Boston Tea Party. One of my husband's great friends, Thomas, was leading many colonists in an act that would tell Britain what we thought of the tax on tea and many of my other favorite materials, such as those beautiful English dresses! "No taxation without representation!" I said in the same loud voice as Thomas. I helped the men paint the costumes so they wold look like Mohawk Indians! Of course, we did not use British paint. The men looked brave and proud; they were ready to act. They headed out, blowing a whistle as they ran. They had a wonderful plan, and they did prefect a perfect job. They had dumped over 90,000 pounds of tea into the Boston Harbor!!! I was so proud of John. I was proud that he was involved and that I could help!

The Revolutionary War:

At first, I never really thought about the stamp act, the war, or the soldiers. But when I think about it now, it makes sense; they were fighting for our country. I was fighting for my country, for our freedom from Britain. Even though I was only a lady and couldn't fight in the physical war, I was still a Daughter of Liberty. It was not the fighting that is only important. It is not only the fighting that caused the victory. It was believing strongly in a cause that was just. I could not understand my husband until I found the passion for myself. I would urge everyone to find something they believe in and try to make a difference. If I can pass this lesson on as my legacy, I can rest in peace.

By ~ River