of the destruction of the tea. In 1835, Hewes, now in his nineties, was brought to Boston for a Fourth of July parade. Calling the dumping of the tea a “tea party” made it sound like a political party: in the 1770s, parties were anathema (“If I could not go to heaven but with a party,” Jefferson wrote, “I would not go there at all”), but in the 1830s, parties ran politics—and fought over who carried the mantle of the passing Revolutionary generation. By parading Hewes through the streets of the city, Boston’s Whigs, who, after all, had named their party after the patriots, claimed the so-called Tea Party as their own. 44
Meanwhile, what the Revolution meant to Hewes—that a poor man was as good a man as any other—was lost. In 1762, when Hewes was a twenty-year-old apprentice, he repaired a shoe for John Hancock, the richest man in Boston. On New Year’s Day, in one of the era’s many elaborate rituals of deference to rank and wealth, Hewes went to Hancock’s house, the grandest mansion in the city, met the great man, took off his hat, bowed, and was given a coin. In 1778, Hewes, still as poor as dirt, enlisted to serve on board the
Hancock
, a twenty-gun ship, to fight the British. But when a ship’s officer demanded that Hewes doff his hat to him, Hewes would not. He refused, he said, to doff his hat for any man. 45
“We don’t have a problem with the sites on the Freedom Trail,” Shawn Ford told me, after we sat down in his office, “but they have a problem with us.” Historic Tours of America began operating the Boston Tea Party Ship in 1988 and bought it six years later. The attraction had not often been celebrated for its educational value. (“It became about making money,” Curran told me. “Interpretive decisions werebased on that.”) Ford talked about the company’s commitment to the visitor’s experience. “Running a for-profit attraction is a lot more difficult than a nonprofit. How we pay for this is the guest that comes through the front door.”
When the site was damaged by fire, Historic Tours of America determined that the entire attraction was due for a renovation and hired Leon Poindexter, a master shipwright, to gut the
Beaver
and rebuild it. The plan was to reopen the Congress Bridge site with replicas of all three ships docked on a barge, the foundation for a museum. Poindexter, one of the few remaining people in the world who knew how to build an eighteenth-century ocean-faring vessel, had worked on many ships, including those in the film
Master and Commander
. He put a great deal of painstaking work into the renovation of the
Beaver
. In 2005, he also began taking apart an old fishing boat and turning it into the
Eleanor
, which was docked alongside the
Beaver
, in Gloucester. Poindexter hadn’t started on the third ship, the
Dartmouth
, when Historic Tours of America ran out of money; then, in 2007, came the second fire at the Congress Street site and, in 2008, the credit crunch dried up any chance of a new loan.
The plan was now back on track, Ford said. He brought out a handsome architect’s model, placed it on his desk, and walked me through the “three-stage experience” of what would be called the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum. Stage 1: “You enter the meeting house. It will look as if they’re in Old South. We call this a ‘faux reenactment.’ There will be actors in period costume.” That is, the entrance to this for-profit attraction would be a re-creation of the Old South Meeting House, an original eighteenth-century building still standing, not a half mile away, open to the public, andoperated as a nonprofit, as a sanctuary for free speech.Stage 2: “You march down the ramp and get on the
Beaver
or the
Eleanor
. Then go below decks to see what ship life was like.” The plan was for the
Dartmouth
to be built on site, its construction an exhibit in itself. Stage 3: “The museum is still being designed. There will be a theater.” There would
Meanwhile, what the Revolution meant to Hewes—that a poor man was as good a man as any other—was lost. In 1762, when Hewes was a twenty-year-old apprentice, he repaired a shoe for John Hancock, the richest man in Boston. On New Year’s Day, in one of the era’s many elaborate rituals of deference to rank and wealth, Hewes went to Hancock’s house, the grandest mansion in the city, met the great man, took off his hat, bowed, and was given a coin. In 1778, Hewes, still as poor as dirt, enlisted to serve on board the
Hancock
, a twenty-gun ship, to fight the British. But when a ship’s officer demanded that Hewes doff his hat to him, Hewes would not. He refused, he said, to doff his hat for any man. 45
“We don’t have a problem with the sites on the Freedom Trail,” Shawn Ford told me, after we sat down in his office, “but they have a problem with us.” Historic Tours of America began operating the Boston Tea Party Ship in 1988 and bought it six years later. The attraction had not often been celebrated for its educational value. (“It became about making money,” Curran told me. “Interpretive decisions werebased on that.”) Ford talked about the company’s commitment to the visitor’s experience. “Running a for-profit attraction is a lot more difficult than a nonprofit. How we pay for this is the guest that comes through the front door.”
When the site was damaged by fire, Historic Tours of America determined that the entire attraction was due for a renovation and hired Leon Poindexter, a master shipwright, to gut the
Beaver
and rebuild it. The plan was to reopen the Congress Bridge site with replicas of all three ships docked on a barge, the foundation for a museum. Poindexter, one of the few remaining people in the world who knew how to build an eighteenth-century ocean-faring vessel, had worked on many ships, including those in the film
Master and Commander
. He put a great deal of painstaking work into the renovation of the
Beaver
. In 2005, he also began taking apart an old fishing boat and turning it into the
Eleanor
, which was docked alongside the
Beaver
, in Gloucester. Poindexter hadn’t started on the third ship, the
Dartmouth
, when Historic Tours of America ran out of money; then, in 2007, came the second fire at the Congress Street site and, in 2008, the credit crunch dried up any chance of a new loan.
The plan was now back on track, Ford said. He brought out a handsome architect’s model, placed it on his desk, and walked me through the “three-stage experience” of what would be called the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum. Stage 1: “You enter the meeting house. It will look as if they’re in Old South. We call this a ‘faux reenactment.’ There will be actors in period costume.” That is, the entrance to this for-profit attraction would be a re-creation of the Old South Meeting House, an original eighteenth-century building still standing, not a half mile away, open to the public, andoperated as a nonprofit, as a sanctuary for free speech.Stage 2: “You march down the ramp and get on the
Beaver
or the
Eleanor
. Then go below decks to see what ship life was like.” The plan was for the
Dartmouth
to be built on site, its construction an exhibit in itself. Stage 3: “The museum is still being designed. There will be a theater.” There would
Similar Books
