For The Good Of The Cause...

For several hours this week I spoke with our sixth grade students about the importance of biographies and autobiographies.  When you peer into the lives of these people you gain a truer comprehension of the impact of opportunities taken, determination to make changes and persistence in following a goal or dream.  The ultimate question is, did this person, in touching a single life or many, change the course of history and on what scale; family, community, nation, world?

When an author/illustrator focuses on a specific time period from the past, zooming out to give us a broader, more in-depth picture beyond dates, places and peoples' names, it's much easier to create a picture in your head of what actually happened.  Don Brown's new title, Henry and the Cannons: An Extraordinary True Story of the American Revolution (Roaring Brook Press), does this and does it very well.  He has taken what might have been a sentence or two from a textbook and given us a story to remember.


It was the winter of 1775.
The American Revolution had begun, and things weren't going well for the Patriots of Boston, Massachusetts.

The British Army had control of Boston, as General George Washington and his troops looked down from the hills outside the city.  What they needed were those British cannons recovered by Colonel Benedict Arnold at Fort Ticonderoga, New York in May.  How to get them over 300 miles of rugged terrain was a huge problem in 1775.

Although a bookseller by trade, the mind of Henry Knox was wired for military strategy, maneuvers, and fortifications.  His skills had not gone unnoticed.  When he told General Washington he could bring those cannons to Boston, he was ordered to do so.

It's hard to imagine riding on horseback for forty miles a day in the dead of winter but Henry did it.  It's hard to imagine the selection of fifty-nine cannons weighing 120,000 pounds, hauled to Lake George, loaded on to three boats and over ten days time in horrendous weather conditions, taken to the other end of the lake, but Henry and his men did it. It's hard to imagine moving those cannons by forty-two sleds drawn by oxen and horses but Henry, his men, and local Patriots did it.


What raises this book above a mere factual accounting are the added details, gleaned from research, provided by Don Brown's gifted use of language.

That night, Henry and his tired men found shelter with Native Americans. Henry declared their food "relishing."

 Brown's word choices provide an experience of the senses; heaved the cannons, ropes water-soaked and slick, muscles and breath burned.

 He uses repetition to increase tension; ...watched British soldiers in their bright red uniforms marching Boston's streets, eating Boston's food, and sleeping in Boston's beds.  


The first illustrations readers see on the front and back jacket and beckon, seize and pull them right into the book. It's hard to resist the bold, bright red lettering on Cannons with flames shooting forth from the mouth of another.  With two page turns they're looking at a map of Henry Knox's journey between Fort Ticonderoga and Boston wrapped around the title verso.

There is a coolness to the color palette, shades of browns, blues and grays, indicative of the winter months and the current state of affairs in Boston; appropriately shifting in brightness and more color for the last three visuals.  Rendered in watercolor the pictures convey, without intricate detail, movement and mood through the use of perspective, layout, layers and shading.  Brown carefully alters the illustration sizes to pair with the text's pacing; two page, a single page, panels, insets all surrounded by narrow frames of white with a thin gray line.  Very cleverly ( in one of my favorite illustrations) he breaks a single visual into three panels to show the changing weather as Henry rides to Fort Ticonderoga.

Clearly Henry and the Cannons: An Extraordinary True Story of the American Revolution by Don Brown illuminates the exploits of a single individual who made the impossible happen; definitely a game changer for the cause of the Patriots. Brown provides a bibliography of resources at the close of the book.  To view his official author website follow the link embedded in his name.  Several years ago he was interviewed at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  Follow this link to the publisher website to view additional illustrations from the book (including my favorite).

Defiance in December

What I remember of significant events in American history, being taught in my classrooms growing up, are a few dedicated paragraphs, names of important individuals and the accompanying dates.  It was through the reading of historical fiction, my father's favorite, that my attraction to American history grew.  The expanded, personal perspectives offered by this genre made it come alive; no longer a series of dry lists of events, persons and dates.

One individual author who consistently creates the same lure of historical fiction in his writing of nonfiction is Russell Freedman.  Freedman's 1988 Newbery Medal book, Lincoln: A Photobiography and his Newbery Honor in 1994 for Eleanor Roosevelt: A Life of Discovery altered what I knew to be true about both these individuals.  Through impeccable documentation he brings the past into the present giving readers a sense of reliving alongside the participants.  A new entry in the Russell Freedman Library of American History, The Boston Tea Party (Holiday House, August 1, 2012), with illustrations by Peter Malone, increases the reader's perception of the circumstances prior to and after the night's activities nearly 240 years ago.

Everyone knew there was going to be trouble when the merchant ship Dartmouth, carrying 114 chests of fine blended tea, sailed into Boston Harbor on November 28, 1773.

Within twenty-four hours of the ship's arrival thousands of colonists had gathered in protest, eventually meeting in the large Old South Church to voice their concerns.  Those gathered voted to not allow the delivery of the tea; no taxes should be paid when they had no voice in Parliament.  Governor Hutchinson, knowing his loyalties to be with the King, demanded the tea be unloaded.

Before that happened two more tea ships arrived, the Eleanor and the Beaver.  The governor ordered British war vessels to block the exit of those three until the tea was delivered and the tax paid.  With tensions rising and the twenty-day due date on the Dartmouth nearing, the people needed to take action.

Another meeting was called; so many people arriving they spilled out into the streets, the Old South Church packed to capacity.  Again the Governor would not honor their requests.  Sam Adams, a commanding member of the Sons of Liberty spoke and was answered from the back with shouts and phrases promising deeds of daring.

Freedman continues his description of the evening of December 16, 1773 in a compelling, narrative including more intimate details, remembrances of those involved; a schoolboy holding a lantern so men could disguise their faces with paint resembling the Mohawk Indians, another describing the reasoning behind the disguises and a rope maker's apprentice locked in his room who made his escape by constructing a rope from his bedding so he could participate.  A mate on the Dartmouth documented the crowd's arrival in the ship's log.  By the use of lanterns and torches as light as day the protesters emptied all the ships of their tea and only the tea.

He continues his conversation with his readers with further inside information; the use of shovels to spread the tea at low tide, the sweeping of the ship's decks when they were done, and the relative quiet which pervaded the night's accomplishments.  You can almost hear the whispered talking as the men made their way home moving through the night knowing the implications of their Boston Tea Party.  Freedman's ability to include the smallest incident with historical importance is what breaths life into his visions of the past; truth triumphs.

Here is a single passage from this title as an example of his writing style.

It was just before six o'clock.  Night has fallen.  The rain had stopped.  A thin young moon was rising over Boston.  A bunch of men disguised as Mohawk Indians, carry axes and hatchets, were hurrying down Milk Street toward the harbor, heading for Griffin's Wharf where the three tea ships were anchored.  


Using two pages for all of his illustrations, Peter Malone elevates the text with his realistic, rich watercolor paintings.  A sense of the past is generated with the color palette and muted tones.  One can only imagine the amount of research needed to recreate colonial America; the details on the buildings, exterior and interior, the streets, the harbor and the ships.

By altering his layout we are either given an observer's view, a bird's eye view or a participant's view of the days during this time period.  The emotional mood is as carefully portrayed on individual faces as is the clothing of each person regardless of their station in life.  Freedman's words may make us feel like we are walking with the people in the past, but Malone's paintings bring the past into our presence.


An attractive portrayal in words and pictures invites readers to participate in The Boston Tea Party written by Russell Freedman illustrated by Peter Malone.  A two page introduction precedes the body of the book followed by a map of the town of Boston, an afterword, bibliography, comments about the importance of tea to the colonists, a timeline, source notes and an index.  Holiday House has provided a three page teaching guide linked here.  An earlier title in this series is Lafayette and the American Revolution.