Rebellion 1776

Laurie Halse Anderson

Large print - 2025

In March 1776, Elsbeth Culpepper finally had hope. Hope that the Patriots would beat the British Army and free Boston. Hope that she could quit working as a kitchen maid and start apprenticing with a seamstress. Hope that she and Pappa would live together under the same roof again, something they hadn't done since Momma...and her brothers and baby sister...Well, it's too sad to say. But the flames of war quickly turn all her hopes to ash. The British and Loyalists prepare to flee, plunging Boston into chaos. As Elsbeth searches for her missing father, she stumbles across a stranger dying of smallpox. An epidemic rages in tandem with the American Revolution. Suddenly, her dreams of the future are reduced to one simple wish: surviva...l.

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Subjects
Genres
Historical fiction
Large print books
Livres en gros caractères
Published
[Waterville, Maine] : Thorndike Press, a part of Gale, a Cengage Company 2025.
Language
English
Main Author
Laurie Halse Anderson (author)
Edition
Large print edition
Item Description
Originally published (standard print format): New York : Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2025.
Physical Description
547 pages (large print) : map ; 23 cm
ISBN
9781420524154
  • Long night of the bombs
  • Dark streets
  • Surrounded
  • Gathering storm
  • World turned upside down
  • Speckled monsters
  • Shipwrecked
  • Rumbling discontent
  • Perambulation
  • Rumpus of relatives
  • Uncharted waters
  • Doldrums
  • Betwixt wind and water
  • Borrowing trouble
  • Devil to pay
  • Portents
  • Whirlwind
  • Digging in
  • Ghosts rising
  • Inoculation
  • Bartering for affection
  • Sign of the wolf
  • Silver linings
  • Contamination
  • Infection
  • The course of human events
  • Bonfires
  • Betrayal
  • A misery of pikes
  • Sheep's clothing
  • Acts of liberty
  • Acts of revenge
  • Sea of suspicion
  • Anchored by hope
  • In search of ballast
  • Injustice
  • Sailing close to the wind
  • Unalterably thine
  • Valley of shadows
  • Shrouded
  • Molting season
  • Thunderstruck
  • One stitch at a time.
Review by Booklist Review

Boston isn't the safest place to live in 1776, as anyone--even 13-year-old Elspeth--could tell you. British troops still occupy the town, but now that rebels have set up an array of cannons aimed at Boston, death by friendly fire seems likely and is frightening to the town's residents. Most feared, though, is the smallpox epidemic surging through Boston, killing people without regard for age, social status, or political leanings. Elspeth, who ably narrates the story, had been diagnosed with smallpox two years earlier and lived. She became a maid in a large family's household and often oversaw their youngest children. Meanwhile, she longs to hear from her father, who had also survived the smallpox outbreak that killed Elspeth's mother and siblings, but he has recently disappeared. One of the narrative's strengths is Anderson's ability to create realistically flawed yet often appealing characters and relationships; another is how fully and sensitively she portrays the female characters' reactions to the limited rights and roles of women in their society. Each chapter opens with a short, relevant quote from the correspondence, journals, or diaries of a notable such as Abigail Adams, John Adams, Ben Franklin, or George Washington. A thoroughly researched, emotionally resonant historical novel.

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

This well-crafted novel by Anderson (Shout) opens in March 1776, on the eve of the Loyalists' forced evacuation of Boston. Thirteen-year-old Patriot supporter Elsbeth Culpepper is new to Boston following relocating with her father from Philadelphia after her mother and siblings' deaths from smallpox. When her father disappears on Evacuation Day, Elsbeth, passing for 16 due to her height, feels lucky to be hired as a servant by Patriot spy Mister Pike, even after the arrival of his large family, including their headstrong ward Hannah Sparhawk and demanding housekeeper. Quick-thinking Elsbeth conquers the chaos of the Pikes and finds a protector in Hannah but worries about her only friend in Boston, "masterless," orphaned Shube--who is suddenly inspiring a "strange volley of sensations" in her--and strives to find her father. Period details of daily life during the events of the founding of the United States--relayed via Elsbeth's historically faithful narration--immerse readers in the era, and plot points become compellingly relevant to contemporary times when Boston is hit by the smallpox epidemic and controversies about inoculation abound. Dated chapters open with quotations from primary sources, enhancing the historical ambiance. Includes a map of Boston, source list, and bibliography. Main characters are white. Ages 10--14. (Apr.)

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4--7--Another masterly account of colonial life from Anderson. After losing her mother and siblings to smallpox, 13-year-old Elsbeth and her loving but distant father relocate to Boston, currently under British occupation. During a chaotic evacuation of the city in the spring of 1776, Elsbeth's father goes missing. Meanwhile, smallpox once again rears its ugly head, ravaging the war-torn city even further. The plucky Elsbeth starts working as a maid for the rambunctious Pike family, weaving several lies to keep up appearances and avoid the orphanage. But in a town where no one can be trusted, how long can she survive? The plot is action-packed, reflecting the unprecedented times of the era. Each chapter opens with a quote from a contemporary historical figure, cementing the sense of time and place. Colorful dialogue, including period-accurate insults, i.e., "dunderhead" and "numbskull," add authenticity. Depictions of violence and death are handled in an appropriate way for middle grade readers. Interspersed throughout the tension are moments of levity, mostly centered around the little dramas of living with a big family. Readers can draw several parallels between Elsbeth's life and modern times, such as the debate over smallpox inoculation. The page count may be daunting, but the short chapters and urgency conveyed in the writing make for a compelling read. Major characters are assumed white; there are brief allusions to slavery. VERDICT A must-buy for historical fiction collections, especially where Anderson's Chains and Fever 1793 are popular.--Hannah Grasse

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review

Thirteen-year-old Elsbeth Culpepper, maid to a judge, lives through the Siege of Boston only to find herself in a precarious situation when British troops depart the city, her Loyalist employer leaves with them, and her father goes missing. She lies her way into the employment of a Patriot spy, Mr. Pike, whose large household includes his wealthy ward, Hannah. But what Elsbeth doesn't count on is the smallpox epidemic that ravages Boston from spring until fall of 1776. As she continues her search for her father and contends with the housekeeper's displeasure, Elsbeth, who previously survived smallpox, nurses five of the Pike children and their mother through the inoculation process; she also gets swept up in Hannah's personal affairs and develops romantic feelings for a friend. War and disease speed up Elsbeth's maturation, as does an unexpected loss before the book's conclusion. Often a footnote in Revolutionary War history, the smallpox epidemic is the focus of Anderson's (Chains, rev. 11/08, and sequels) compelling and well-researched tale of human frailty and perseverance, fear and courage amid dire circumstances. Through Elsbeth's whip-smart first-person narration (with asides to readers in parentheses) plus quotes from historical letters opening each chapter, readers learn about the disease, its symptoms and deadliness, the measures taken to contain it, and people's fear of inoculation. Anderson's return to historical fiction highlights her mastery of the genre, with well-rounded characters, detailed storytelling, and timely subject matter that make it a must-read for today's youth. Cynthia K. RitterMay/June 2025 p.79 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

A girl fends for herself in Revolutionary War--era Boston. Boston, 1776: 13-year-old Elsbeth Culpepper, a kitchen maid for a British loyalist judge, hunkers down during the chaos of George Washington's violent siege on Boston. When the British are driven out and Elspeth's sailmaker father--her only surviving family member after her mother and siblings died from smallpox--goes missing, Elsbeth is left to navigate an uncertain future on her own. She finds employment with former Patriot spy Mister Pike and his family, who have moved into the judge's vacated home. Elsbeth is once more a maid, this time to the six Pike children and Hannah Sparhawk, the family's sharp-witted, highborn charge. With the help of best friend Shubel Kent, Elsbeth searches for Pappa even as the city is ravaged by an explosion in smallpox numbers and a new government forms amid talk of independence. As she cares for the Pike family during their recovery from smallpox inoculation, Elsbeth must protect her own interests against outside forces, including the Pikes' bitter housekeeper and a disreputable acquaintance of her father's, all the while forming a friendship with Hannah and staying true to herself. Told through Elsbeth's clever, feminist, often-humorous perspective, this original and timely story immerses readers in her observations on an epidemic and vaccination, early American politics and society, and the meaning of family. The main characters are white; the book contains references to enslaved people. Engrossing, entertaining, and heartfelt. (map, bibliography, sources and references)(Historical fiction. 10-14) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Chapter 1: Long Night of the Bombs 1. LONG NIGHT OF THE BOMBS MONDAY, MARCH 4, 1776 ... SOON AFTER CANDLELIGHT, CAME ON A MOST TERRIBLE BOMBARDMENT AND CANNONADE, ON BOTH SIDES, AS IF HEAVEN AND EARTH WERE ENGAGED. --BOSTON SELECTMAN TIMOTHY NEWELL'S JOURNAL Take away this puke bucket, girl, and bring me a clean one!" Judge Bellingham bellowed like an angry ox, but I did not move. I couldn't, not while the Patriot cannons boomed over and over with terrifying thunder. They were aimed at Boston, which meant they were aimed at me. I was hiding, quite sensibly, under the table at the top of the stairs, in shouting distance of the judge's bedchamber and far away from any window, in case a cannonball or mortar shell came crashing in. For a helmet, I wore a wooden bowl that smelled of cinnamon. (I'd been mixing a sweet dough in it when the Patriots unleashed more lethal mischief.) The judge made another loud contribution to his puke bucket. I held my hand over my mouth and swallowed hard, for the sound of his retching made my own insides go funny. My employer was suffering mightily with gout in the toes of his left foot. Adding to his woes, his stomach had turned sour at sunset, so he'd taken to his bed, groaning loudly about his afflictions. I brought him a pot of ginger tea, but he demanded a flask of wine and more of the mutton soup served at supper. I'd suggested toasted bread on account of his bellyache. He reminded me that I was a blockhead kitchen maid. But I ask you, who was puking up the mutton soup now? "Did you hear me?" he roared. Three nearby British cannons boomed, as if answering his question. The force of the sound rattled every window in the house and shattered the mirror that hung above the table. Shards of glass rained down around me and onto the dusty floorboards. I cringed, clutched my helmet, and counted: one, two, three . No cannonball crashed through the wall. No fire exploded through the front door. "Get me a clean bucket now!" hollered the judge. George Washington's Patriot army had kept ten thousand British soldiers pinned down in Boston for nearly a year now. This siege made the lives of the few ordinary folks trapped in the town (like me) a misery. Two nights earlier, the Patriot cannons had begun bombarding us, changing our circumstances from difficult to terrifying. I wished that the mothers of every soldier on both sides would magically appear, grab their sons by the ear, and drag them home for a well-earned thrashing. Then we could dump all the cannons and guns into the sea and go about living our lives in a more sensible manner. I sighed. Weaving dreams and fantasies produced a cloth of regret, that's what Pappa said. "Answer me, you sniveling featherbrain!" the judge demanded. "Are you still there?" "Yes, sir," I called, even though I was neither sniveling nor a featherbrain. "Bring me that blasted bucket or I'll put you on the street!" Losing my job meant losing a place to sleep and three meals a day, which scared me even more than the cannonballs. I dashed down the hall to an unused bedroom, grabbed a chamber pot, and cleaned the spiderwebs out of it with my apron as I ran. The judge most closely resembled an ancient snapping turtle; one that wore a stained, purple silk robe over a nightshirt and an old-fashioned gray wig. His gout-plagued foot was propped up on a high stack of pillows, but the rest of him, thankfully, was hidden under the rumpled blankets. The judge had not washed in ages, which made the room reek of decay, like his anger was rotting him from the inside out. He glared at me. "About time, you idle dolt." I curtsied and replaced the disgusting puke bucket with the chamber pot. "Apologies, sir." He pushed himself higher against the mahogany headboard. "I require the attention of Doctor Church. Fetch him immediately." "Beg pardon, sir?" "Do you not understand English?" he snapped. I took a half step backward to ensure that I was out of his reach. Contradicting my master was tricky work. "The rebels arrested Doctor Church for spying, sir, months ago," I cautiously reminded him. "He's jailed in Connecticut." "I know that!" His face flushed scarlet with embarrassment. "Do you imagine that I am ignorant?" For a moment, Judge Abraham Trink Bellingham--wealthy merchant and member of the Royal Governor's Council--did not look like a powerful owner of ships, shops, and houses. He was just an old man in need of much assistance, whose mind had begun to wander, mayhaps on account of the bombardment. "Of course not, sir," I said gently. "But I can see that you are not well. Should I brew some more ginger tea to soothe your belly? Or mayhaps mint?" "Tea will not help my toes." He lifted his chin and smoothed the front of his robe, trying to regain his dignity. "Send up Jane, or that other maid, what's her name... Elizabeth." "I am Elsbeth, sir. Jane and Rose are sleeping with the other soldier wives in the barracks tonight. For their safety, sir." "Oh," he muttered. "Why did you not go with them?" "I'm not married, sir. I'm only sixteen," I lied. (Adding three years to my true age made life simpler. I was already taller than most women, so no one questioned my claim.) He looked me over, starting at my uncomfortable shoes, traveling up my form, and pausing on the smallpox scars that speckled my cheeks. "Quite a gollumpus, aren't you? I wager you've been eating me out of house and home." The insult made me clutch my apron, and imagine the pleasure of emptying the puke bucket on his head. "What is your surname?" he continued. The unexpected question startled me. "Sir?" "Cunningham?" "Culpepper, sir." "Ah." He nodded. "Now I remember. Your father's a sailor." "Sailmaker, sir, at Grenock and Withers's sail loft. Missus Grenock recommended me to your former housekeeper when we arrived last year." He wiped his mouth on a grubby handkerchief. "When was that, exactly?" "Just before the"--I chose my words carefully--"before the ungrateful rebels started this dreadful standoff." "Lexington and Concord." He scratched the stubble on his chin. "An unfortunate moment to come to Boston." I nodded. "Pappa has the curse of ill timing." "And thus, I am cursed with his daughter." He spat into the chamber pot and looked me over again. "A pockmarked, slothful wench best suited for farmwork." His tone had turned sharp again. His wits were no longer wandering. Ignoring his insults, I tried my best to appear meek, which was not my natural attitude. "We are deeply grateful for your generosity," I said, gentling my voice, as if trying to calm a rabid dog. "Working in such a respected home is an honor, sir, particularly in this uncertain time." Judge Swinehead grabbed his glass. "Fetch me a doctor. I don't care which one." He took a big swig of wine. "But I warn you; do not return without a man who will help my toes." Excerpted from Rebellion 1776 by Laurie Halse Anderson All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.