"Tea, Destroyed by Indians" Boston Tea Party Commemorative Poem

Also available in an antique solid wood frame under museum-grade non-glare acrylic that protects from UV rays.

Hand printed in the Printing Office of Edes & Gill in Boston in the Clough House (c 1715) on the grounds of the Old North Church Historic Site in Boston.

This 1773 broadside contains a poem praising the patriots who stormed the British tea ships during the Boston Tea Party.

Eager to capitalize on the Boston Tea Party of 16 December 1773, patriot agitators distributed this broadside urging citizens to firmly and courageously defend their rights. In terms reminiscent of Boston Massacre verse, the unidentified author raises the specter of martyrs, graves, and blood-bought liberties.

Print size: 12.5" x 8"

Full text of the print

Tea, Destroyed by Indians

YE GLORIOUS SONS OF FREEDOM, brave and bold, That has flood forth—fair LIBERTY to hold; Though you were INDIANS, come from distant shores, Like MEN you acted—not like savage Moors.

CHORUS.

Bostonian's SONS keep up your Courage good, Or Dye, like Martyrs, in fair Free-born Blood.

Our LIBERTY, and LIFE is now invaded, And FREEDOM's brightest Charms are darkly shaded; But, we will STAND—and think it noble mirth, To DART the man that dare oppress the Earth.

Bostonian's SONS keep up your Courage good, Or Dye, like Martyrs, in fair Free-born Blood.

How grand the Scene!—(No Tyrant shall oppose) The TEA is sunk in spite of all our foes. A NOBLE SIGHT—to see th' accursed TEA Mingled with MUD—and ever for to be; For KING and PRINCE shall know that we are FREE.

Bostonian's SONS keep up your Courage good, Or Dye, like Martyrs, in fair Free-born Blood.

Must we be still— and live on Blood-bought Ground, And not oppose the Tyrants cursed found? We Scorn the thought—our views are well refin'd We scorn those slavish shackles of the Mind, “We've Souls that were not made to be confin'd.”

Bostonian's SONS keep up your Courage good, Or Dye, like Martyr's, in fair Free-born Blood.

Could our Fore-fathers rise from their cold Graves, And view their Land, with all their Children SLAVES; What would they say! how would their Spirits rend, And, Thunder-strucken, to their Graves descend.

Bostonian's SONS keep up your Courage good, Or Dye, like Martyrs, in fair Free-born Blood.

Let us with hearts of steel now stand the task, Throw off all darksome ways, nor wear a Mask. Oh! may our noble Zeal support our frame, And brand all Tyrants with eternal SHAME.

Bostonian's SONS keep up your Courage good, And sink all Tyrants in their GUILTY BLOOD.