 |
| Green Dragon Tavern |
Headquarters of the Revolution
Owned by the Masonic St. Andrew’s Lodge, the tavern had a cellar for drinkers and an upstairs for secret meetings. Its labyrinthine rooms offered just enough privacy for men with dangerous ideas. Daniel Webster later called it “the headquarters of the Revolution,” and with good reason, from these rooms, the plans for the Boston Tea Party were said to have taken shape, and the signals that would launch Revere’s midnight ride were whispered into motion. Picture the scene: a wooden bench, a blazing hearth, and the clatter of pewter mugs as artisans, printers, and patriots huddled over the day’s news. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, spilled ale, and tension. British redcoats patrolled outside; revolution simmered within.
 |
| Union Street in Boston |
Broadsides and the Power of Print
If Boston’s streets were the stage of the Revolution, its taverns were the printing offices of rebellion. The Green Dragon wasn’t just a meeting place, it was a distribution hub for broadsides and pamphlets: single-sheet prints that carried the latest news, satire, and calls to action. Paul Revere’s engravings, from his chilling “Bloody Massacre” to his biting political cartoons, circulated through places like this tavern, passed from hand to hand like lanterns in the dark. Patriots gathered here to read aloud the latest broadsides from Edes & Gill, the Boston Gazette, and other radical presses. These sheets spread the word faster than any official proclamation could silence it. It was here, amid mugs of ale and whispered debate, that propaganda turned to purpose. A broadside pinned to the wall might inspire a meeting; a meeting might spark a march; a march might lead to a movement.
 |
| Edes & Gill in Boston |
Sam Adams and Paul Revere
Samuel Adams was a master organizer who understood that revolutions are built as much in taverns as in legislatures. His knack for rallying craftsmen, dockworkers, and printers made the Green Dragon the perfect forum for building consensus and courage. Paul Revere, meanwhile, brought the tools of his trade, copper plates, etching acid, and a keen eye for politics to amplify the cause. From his workshop only a few streets away, he turned ideas discussed in taverns into images that defined the patriot narrative. Many of those images found their audience right here at the Green Dragon.
A Legacy Brewed in Liberty
The original tavern was torn down in 1832, but its legend remains as strong as the ale once poured there. Today’s Green Dragon on Marshall Street pays homage to the original, standing just a few steps from where the conspirators met. The Revolution didn’t begin with muskets, it began with meetings, broadsides, and mugs of beer, passed hand to hand in a Boston pub where freedom itself was on tap.
