# Sipping Chocolate and Spilling Tea
## A Living History Program set in Lady Dunmore's Parlor
### Williamsburg, May 1774


*(Spoken by Lady Dunmore, in character, to open the event)*

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Welcome, dear friends. Please — help yourselves to the chocolate. It has come all the way from London, which, given the present mood of this colony, I confess feels slightly ironic.

I am Charlotte Murray — Lady Dunmore — and I am grateful you have accepted my invitation. My husband governs this colony, which means I hear a great deal from men about politics and very little from anyone else. I find that rather limiting. Women, in my experience, tend to notice things that men in powdered wigs do not. So I wanted to hear from you.

Now — I understand that most of you remember what happened in Boston Harbor last December. The tea. The disguises. The rather dramatic splash. My husband's view of that event, I will not pretend to soften: it was destruction of private property, and Parliament was not going to ignore it.

And so they responded. Earlier this year, Parliament passed a series of acts — four of them — which the colonists here have taken to calling the Intolerable Acts, though in London they are called the Coercive Acts. I will tell you what they actually say, because I find there is a great deal of heat in this colony and rather less light.

The first closes the port of Boston entirely — no ships in, no trade out — until the East India Company is compensated for the tea that was destroyed. The second revokes the Massachusetts charter and places that colony's government more directly under the Crown. The third allows British officials accused of crimes in the colonies to be tried in England rather than in colonial courts. And the fourth — well, the fourth requires colonists to provide quarters for British soldiers when called upon to do so.

My husband believes these measures are firm but fair — a proportionate response to what happened, aimed at restoring order in a colony that has, in his view, lost its way.

Not everyone in Williamsburg agrees with him. I suspect some of you seated here do not agree with him. And I will tell you frankly — I did not invite you here to lecture you on behalf of the Crown. I invited you because I want to understand what the women of this city are feeling. What you are hearing in your homes and your shops and your churches.

So — before we begin, let me explain how this morning will work, because I want it to feel like a conversation rather than a town meeting.

At each table you will find one of my acquaintances — a woman I trust to listen well and speak honestly. I have asked them to sit with you and open the discussion. One of them I am especially pleased to introduce: Mrs. Elizabeth Powell, who has come to us from Philadelphia, where she moves in rather remarkable company — she counts Dr. Franklin among her personal friends, and I have found her one of the most perceptive women I have ever had the pleasure of arguing with.

*(A small smile)*

The others are dear friends whose company I commend to you without reservation.

In a few minutes, I will ring a small bell — like this —

*(rings it once)*

— and when I do, each of my friends will move to a different table, and I will join one of you as well. We will do this a few more times, so that everyone has a chance to speak with several of us before the morning is out.

And I want to say this plainly: your conversation need not stay on the subject of Boston and Parliament. If something else is weighing on you — your household, your family, your faith, the price of imported cloth, the behavior of the soldiers quartered down the street — please say so. I have chocolate enough and time enough for all of it.

So — the chocolate is warm, the company is pleasant, and no one here is required to be polite at the expense of being honest.

What are your thoughts?