Tea and Taxes: Revisiting the Boston Tea Party

While every tax season inspires its fair share of heavy sighs, rolled eyes, and calculator-related angst, our modern grumbling pales next to the actions taken in December 1773, when a tax protest first known as “The Destruction of the Tea” (and now known as the “Boston Tea Party”) saw nearly 42 metric tons of tea dumped dramatically into Boston Harbor. (By my estimation, that equals out to roughly 14.8 million cups of tea…plus a lot of surprised fish.)

If you’re looking for a momentary distraction from your 1040 form, we’re here to help. Heat up the kettle, pour yourself a cup, and let’s revisit an era of American history when taxes and tea helped spark a revolution.

Tea Before the Troubles
Long before colonial Americans were tossing tea into harbors, they were happily sipping it.

Indigenous peoples in North America brewed herbal infusions from native plants, including yaupon holly, which produces a naturally caffeinated drink. By the 17th century, European colonists had picked up the habit. If you’re curious to know what attracted them, look no further than our own Yaupon Black. Offering an amber liquor and a smoky, sweet aroma, the flavor carries light, sweet notes of fresh maple syrup.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, “true tea” made from Camellia sinensis was gaining traction. Introduced to Britain by Dutch traders in the 1650s, it quickly became fashionable (helped in part by Queen Catherine, wife of King Charles II, who had developed a love of tea in her native Portugal). By the early 1700s, tea had begun to trickle down from aristocratic circles to the general public.

The American colonies emulated their mother country, and imported tea soon became a daily ritual here as well.

In fact, by 1749, a visiting Swedish naturalist named Peter Kalm observed that residents of Albany, New York were not only drinking tea with their bread-and-butter breakfast but were drinking even more of it around 3 PM. (Apparently, the “afternoon slump” is not a modern invention.) 

How Imported Tea Made Its Way to Colonial Cups  
Getting tea into colonial America wasn’t exactly a straightforward process.

Back in 1600, the British East India Company (EIC) had been chartered to trade in the Indian Ocean region and compete with European rivals. By the 1660s, the company began regularly importing tea from Asian markets into Britain, helping to establish a trade that would eventually surpass that of the Dutch.

Early import taxes on tea, however, were quite high, making the drink expensive. That’s one of the reasons it took a while before anyone but England’s elite could afford it. It’s also why tea smuggling (often conducted by Dutch and other European traders) became huge…because smuggled tea avoided those hefty taxes.

Although the British East India Company was importing tea to England, they weren’t allowed to sell directly to the colonies. Instead, tea was sold at auction in England, purchased by British merchants, and then shipped to the colonies through regular commercial channels.

American colonists, then, got their tea from a mix of sources: legally imported tea that had passed through England (and carried high duties), as well as a significant amount of smuggled tea, which was typically cheaper. 

The Perfect Storm Brewing
Tensions between England and the colonies escalated after the French and Indian War (1754–1763), when Britain found itself deep in debt. To recover financially, Parliament imposed new taxes on the colonies…including the Townshend Acts of 1767, which taxed multiple imported goods, including tea.

The colonists weren’t having it, and subsequently protested “taxation without representation,” arguing that they had no voice in Parliament, yet were expected to help pay its bills.

Then came 1773.

The British East India Company was sitting on a massive surplus of unsold tea. Parliament’s solution was the Tea Act of 1773, which allowed the company to sell directly to the colonies, bypassing middlemen.

On paper, this sounded like a win. In reality, it was anything but.

Yeah, tea would be cheaper, but it would still be taxed. Worse, the move threatened the economic interests of local tea-selling merchants who weren’t affiliated with the East India Company. What looked like a discount felt more like a takeover by a corporate monopoly, and many resented England exerting control over colonial commerce.

When the Tea Hit the Harbor
By December 1773, things had reached a breaking point.

Three ships, the Dartmouth, Eleanor, and Beaver, arrived in Boston Harbor carrying tea. In other cities, shipments had been turned away. But the Royal Governor of Massachusetts, Thomas Hutchinson, refused to let the ships in Boston leave without unloading their cargo.

On December 16, thousands gathered at the Old South Meeting House to demand that the ships be sent back. After Governor Hutchinson refused to let the ships leave without paying duties, a group of colonists decided to take matters into their own hands.

That evening, between 100 and 150 men (many associated with the Sons of Liberty, a loosely organized protest network that included such founding fathers as Samuel Adams and John Hancock) disguised themselves as Mohawk warriors, headed to Boston Harbor, and boarded the three ships.

Their mission was precise and disciplined. Without damaging anything else on the ships, they seized 342 chests of tea, cracked them open, and dumped the contents into Boston Harbor.  The value? Around £10,000 at the time…a staggering sum that would equal about $1.7 million U.S. dollars today.

The Aftermath: When Protest Sparked War
Upon learning of the tea’s destruction, Britain responded with the so-called “Intolerable Acts.” Boston Harbor was closed to trade. Self-government in Massachusetts was suspended. British officials charged with capital offenses could have their trials moved outside Massachusetts. Lastly, the “quartering act” allowed British troops to be housed in unoccupied buildings, private homes, and inns.

Rather than isolate Boston and Massachusetts, these measures united the colonies. In 1774, representatives gathered at the First Continental Congress. Not long after, the Battles of Lexington and Concord ignited the American Revolutionary War.

Life After the Tea Party
The Boston Tea Party didn’t just change politics. It changed drinking habits.

Many colonists boycotted British tea entirely, turning to smuggled varieties or abandoning tea altogether. Coffee began to gain in popularity (and honestly, never really looked back), while some embraced “liberty tea,” a collective term for herbal infusions brewed from sweet goldenrod, wintergreen, and other local plants.

The Teas That Took the Plunge
So what exactly were the teas that got tossed into Boston Harbor?

• Bohea – A black tea from China’s Wuyi Mountains, so common in its day that its name briefly became slang for tea itself
• Congou – A higher-grade black tea, smoother and more refined than Bohea
• Souchong – A classic black tea with a subtle smoky character
• Hyson – Favored by figures like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, this spring-picked green tea represented one-third of all tea exported from China in the 18^th century.
• Singlo – A later-harvest green tea that the East India Company was trying to unload an excess of. It wasn’t widely known in the colonies yet, and the company had been hoping to popularize it with colonists. Oops.

Drink Your History
If you’d like to find modern-day equivalents to those 1773 teas…you know, just to ease yourself into the taxpaying mood…I’d be happy to point you toward some possibilities.

Bohea made up the bulk of the shipment that the Sons of Liberty heave-hoed back in 1773…and while we don’t carry that particular brew, we do have other teas sourced from the Wuyi Mountains, such as our Wuyi Da Hong Pao. The large, unbroken leaves of this wonderful oolong tea are roughly 40% oxidized, yielding a warm, rich flavor with notes of peach compote and dark molasses.  

Congou is a traditional, high-quality Chinese black tea. Its name is likely a Westernization of “Gongfu,” a word that refers to any skill, art, or labor achieved through hard work and time. Still carefully picked and processed, our Panyang Congou represents one of China’s great historical teas. The toasted aroma and beautifully complex flavors (think baked apples and spring hay) make this the perfect tea for days when you need a little something extra.

Souchong tea is also still going strong. Hailing from the region where black tea was first developed, the leaves used in our Lapsang Souchong are slowly withered to add complexity, then carefully dried over burning pinewood. The result is a distinctive aroma and flavor…both carrying notes of pine, smoke, stone fruit and spice. 

Looking for a similar tea with a less intensely smoky character? Our Russian Country is a blend of four great teas (Keemun, Assam, Ceylon, and Formosa Oolong) with just a touch of Lapsang Souchong. The aroma is still smoky, though the base teas offer hints of malt, citrus, and stewed peaches.

Hyson is a category of green tea that was frequently exported to the west in colonial times, and younger leaves picked earlier in the season are known as “Young Hyson.” Our Organic Chun Mee (translated to “precious eyebrow” due to its curved, hand-rolled shape) fits the traditional “Young Hyson” profile, presenting a lightly roasted vegetal taste that’s not unlike charred grilled leeks.

Lastly, we come to Singlo, a historic green tea named for the Songluo Mountain where it grows. Picked later in the season, this tea’s leaves are then pan-fried, curled, and dried. In the past, our Songluo Broken tea has drawn praise for its lovely agave-like flavor…the result of slow, controlled oxidation. Though it’s currently unavailable, we’ll be glad to send you an email when it returns. Just visit our Songluo Broken page and click that big, black “Notify me when back in stock” button.

In the meantime, you might enjoy our Artisanal Qi Men Town, which is close (at least in proximity) to Songluo Mountain. (This tea, however, offers floral and cocoa notes instead of Songluo Broken’s flavors of agave and fresh toast.)

Many Happy Returns 
Well, that was a pleasant enough detour from number-crunching, but I suppose there’s no delaying the inevitable. You get back to your spreadsheets, and I’ll get back to my tea business…and I hope that any dunking of tea in water that you do will be intended not as a protest, but as a comforting indulgence in a cherished everyday luxury.