A Hancock and an Adams

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Hello all. I wasn't sure where to place this; non-fiction or other fiction, so I decided to post it here. For the past five months I've been writing historical fiction about the American Revolution. Shortly, Hancock will be making his presence so this story is me practicing; 'getting a feel' for his real characteristics. It's not finished but I hope you enjoy it so far. :) As always, critique it harshly.
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A Hancock and an Adams


John Hancock sat at the mahogany table, busily sharpening the blade of his fine dress sword, breathing fire and brimstone at the British Regulars and debating with Samuel Adams at the same time.

For the majority of the night, John cleaned his musket of residue and polished his sword, arranging his accouterments in order.

The fire crackled and Samuel Adams, whom was standing directly behind his companion, crossed his arms against his chest; tight lipped, watching John.

"I will march to the plain by the meetinghouse, my sword risen high over my head, and do not think for one moment you will stop me, Samuel."

Samuel grunted in disapproval and with a right hand, he clasped John's shoulder. "Ye talk bravely of joining the Lexington men and facing the Regulars when they arrive but ye are more useful to the cause in other ways than carrying a musket," Samuel said glumly.

"No, my good Adams, there are ways to assist the cause besides talk," John retorted imperiously.

"That is not our business. We belong to the cabinet."

Samuel had been debating with John for nearly three hours, trying to persuade his friend that they both had to depart Elizabeth Clarkes' three-bedroom cottage and seek another sanctuary. Samuel Adams knew deep below, that it would only be a matter of time before the Regulars arrived in Lexington, and time was precious; something that shouldn't be taken for granted it.

Tories were on guard, searching for the two rebellious radicals.

Yes, Samuel thought to himself. Those God awful Tories are likely spying through the windows and John's bound and determined to sacrifice himself when we, when I need John's brilliant mind, and not his incoherent speeches of valor.

A thin smile spread on John's lips. He tilted his head and peered upwards towards Samuel and stopped sharpening the sword's blade momentarily. John set the oil stone aside and placed the sword meticulously next to it. After a few seconds, when John was completely satisfied his sword and oil stone wouldn't slip from the table, he produced another faint smile.

"Samuel," John said, peering into his direction again. "In my coach, I have a spare cutlass; the blade is made of the finest silver in Massachusetts. The blade is also handsomely engraved with my initials. Even the King himself does not need to squint to read my name. Together, armed side by side, we can travel into the brink of battle and send those troops back overseas."

Samuel's cheeks instantly reddened. He removed the grip from John's shoulder and furiously dropped two fists against his waist. Feeling exasperated, Samuel attempted to persuade John again.

"Were ye deprived of much needed sleep recently? I have no desire to venture into warfare, nor risk my neck in the name of bloodshed. We must go, and now!" Samuel bellowed.

"Shh… You will wake the missus," John replied casually.

What an incompetent and foolish man! Our very lives could be in further jeopardy and he wants to throw years of work in planning and coordinating independence from Great Britain by placing himself in harm's way? Does not John see past his stubborn morals and realize politics are our nature? That he is more of a service than joining arms?
Last edited by Fishr on Tue Apr 25, 2006 2:38 am, edited 2 times in total.
The sadness drains through me rather than skating over my skin. It travels through every cell to reach the ground. I filter it yet strangely enough, I keep what was pure and it is the dirt that leaves.




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Okay, first off, let me say that I am surprised at the length of this piece. Its surprising in that it's not 100 pages long. Anyways, I think its really good and very nicely written. There are a few things though, that I noticed.

breathing fire and brimstone at the British Regulars


Now Im not entirely sure about this, but Im guessing he wasnt actually breathing fire and brimstone. I understand what your trying to say but I think it can be said in a better way, one with less mpotential to confuse.

trying to persuaded


Take out the 'ed' on the end.


Samuel's cheeks instantly became warm and sticky.


This was the only part I was confused about. What do you mean, 'warm and sticky'? Was he crying? Was there a rush of blood to his face, signalling anger or embarrassment? It may just be me in this instance but that confused me.

What an incompetent and foolish man! Samuel shouted to himself


There's nothing wrong with this really, but no one actually shouts to themselves, do they? That can be better worded, I think.

And that's all!! This was exceptionally written, I mean really, it was very well done. Is this like a sidestory to your other one? Are you going to continue to develop this, or was this just something you felt needed to be written?
Mah name is jiggleh. And I like to jiggle.

"Indecision and terror, thy name is novel." - Chiko




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And that's all!! Is this like a sidestory to your other one? Are you going to continue to develop this, or was this just something you felt needed to be written?


Hey Jiggy! Thank you for the feedback. I'll plug around and see what I can come up with.

Sidestory? Hmm... Never thought about it. I just saw this more of an exercise to prepare myself but I guess it could be in a way. Yeah, I think I'll continue with it until I'm comfortable with Hancock's character.

This was exceptionally written, I mean really, it was very well done.
Woot! :D Thank you for the kind words, Jiggy. :D Compliments are always nice.

breathing fire and brimstone at the British Regulars



Now Im not entirely sure about this, but Im guessing he wasnt actually breathing fire and brimstone. I understand what your trying to say but I think it can be said in a better way, one with less mpotential to confuse.
I don't know. I do like the metaphore. I guess I have a decesion to make. ;)

Quote:
Samuel's cheeks instantly became warm and sticky.



This was the only part I was confused about. What do you mean, 'warm and sticky'? Was he crying? Was there a rush of blood to his face, signalling anger or embarrassment? It may just be me in this instance but that confused me.
Ah! Good point! Very good point. Good eye, Jiggy. :)

What an incompetent and foolish man! Samuel shouted to himself



There's nothing wrong with this really, but no one actually shouts to themselves, do they? That can be better worded, I think.
Hmm... I might be on the minority here, but I yell at myself when I'm mad, lol. I was trying to distinguish that it wasn't dialogue and that Adams was having conflicts with himself. Perhaps you're right. It could probably be worded better. Thanks again!

And just cause I got a good laugh out of it...

Okay, first off, let me say that I am surprised at the length of this piece. Its surprising in that it's not 100 pages long
Every time I read that, I can't help but laugh because it's so true! Most of my stories are long and I'm surprised too that it didn't turn into fifty pages either.

:D :)
The sadness drains through me rather than skating over my skin. It travels through every cell to reach the ground. I filter it yet strangely enough, I keep what was pure and it is the dirt that leaves.



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