“I will do what I can to persuade others,” she said, returning the pressure.
Through the night Berinthia was thinking over what she had started to accomplish, and what arguments she should use to influence those whom she would ask to sign the agreement. The great idea, with a moral principle behind it, took possession of her mind and drove sleep from her eyes and aroused the energies of the soul. Why undertake the arduous task alone? Why not ask Doctor Cooper to preach about it? If she could but get the ministers enlisted, they could awaken public sentiment.
“Ah! I have it. Week after next is Thanksgiving, and I will get them to preach sermons that will stir up the people,” she said to herself.
Thanksgiving Day came. Very eloquent were the words spoken for Justice, Right, and Liberty by Reverend Doctor Cooper, Reverend Doctor Eliot, Reverend Doctor Checkley, and nearly all the other ministers, excepting Reverend Mr. Coner, rector of King’s Chapel, and Reverend Mather Byles of Christ Church, whose sympathies were with the king.[32]
In every household fathers and mothers, sons and daughters and grandchildren, gathered in the old home, and had a great deal to say, while partaking of the roast turkey and plum-pudding, of the sermons they had heard in the different meetinghouses. All the ministers preached about the proposal of Parliament to levy a tax upon tea, and that if it could not be defeated in any other way it was the patriotic duty of the people to quit using the herb. They must deny themselves the luxury, that they might maintain their freedom. Little did they know that a blue-eyed girl had called upon Doctor Cooper and read to him what she had written, an agreement to drink no more tea; how his soul had been set on fire and he had gone with her to the houses of other ministers, that they might look into her eyes and see the flashing of a resolute spirit in behalf of justice, righteousness, and liberty.
Although the snow was deep in the streets, the drifts did not deter Berinthia from calling upon her friends. Many of the good ladies were ready to sign an agreement to drink no more tea; others hesitated. She was warmly welcomed by Mrs. Abigail Adams, who at once saw how great would be the influence of the women upon their husbands.
“But what shall we drink instead of tea?” asked Dorothy Quincy.
“When summer comes, we will go out into the fields and gather strawberry leaves, and call them Hyperion, or some other elegant name. I think it quite as pretty a name as Old Hyson, and I am not sure that they will not be more healthful,” Berinthia replied.
Miss Dorothy laughed heartily. “Yes, and we can, upon a pinch, drink cold water from the town pump and flavor it with peppermint,” she said, as she wrote her name.