Johnny Tremain

“Already the day’s bustle had begun up and down the wharf: A man was crying fish. Sailors were heave-hoing at their ropes. A woman was yelling that her son had fallen into the water. A parrot said distinctly, ‘King Hancock.’ Johnny could smell hemp and spices, tar and salt water, the sun drying fish. He liked his wharf.”

Forbes uses rich auditory and olfactory imagery to establish the setting of Hancock’s Wharf. This detailed language invites the reader into the scene and paints a vivid picture of the bustling neighborhood. Johnny considers the lively place “his wharf,” which reinforces his pride at the start of the novel. He sees Hancock’s Wharf as its own little world and himself as its ruler. As the novel continues, the setting expands far beyond the confines of the Lapham household’s neighborhood, and Johnny gains the humility to see that the world doesn’t revolve around him.

“She read the words in her halting manner: ‘Let there be Lyte.’ And miraculously, as she stumbled over these words, there was light, for the sun came up out of the sea.”

Cilla and Johnny share a close moment as they marvel at the beautiful cup and the seemingly miraculous timing of the dawn. Before Johnny’s mother died, she urged him to keep the silver cup bearing the Lyte family crest a secret. By showing it to Cilla, he demonstrates his complete trust in her. The rising sun seems to herald the dawning of a bright future for Johnny, but Mr. Lyte later dashes those dreams. Ironically, Johnny’s attempts to enter the Lyte family bring danger and bleakness, not light and hope. Johnny’s trust in Cilla ultimately saves his life because she testifies in court when the merchant accuses him of stealing the cup.

“We’re all poor worms. You’re getting above yourself—like I tried to point out to you. God is going to send you a dire punishment for your pride.”

Mr. Lapham lectures the protagonist about his pride and issues a prophetic warning that foreshadows Johnny’s life-altering hand injury. The old silversmith is disappointed with his bright young apprentice because Johnny spewed threats and insults at Dove for bringing him the wrong kind of charcoal. This incident only stokes Dove’s already smoldering resentment of the arrogant Johnny, paving the way for his terrible prank in Chapter 3. However, Johnny is oblivious to the impending danger and only pays attention to Mr. Lapham’s words when the silversmith commands Johnny to stop working on Mr. Hancock’s sugar basin. The boy is far more troubled by the idea of finishing the wealthy customer’s order late than by his own vices. It is only after Johnny receives his “dire punishment” that he begins to learn humility and empathy.

“The burn was so terrible he at first felt no pain, but stood stupidly looking at his hand. For one second, before the metal cooled, the inside of his right hand, from wrist to fingertips, was coated with solid silver.”

Johnny’s burn marks a turning point in the novel and the fulfillment of the foreshadowing that fills the early chapters. The novel’s beginning offers many clues through Johnny’s haughty behavior, his ill treatment of Dove, and Mr. Lapham’s lectures about Johnny’s pridefulness. Dove deliberately gives Johnny the cracked crucible, but he doesn’t expect Johnny to be injured because of his prank. While Dove bears a certain measure of responsibility, much of the blame falls on Johnny himself. After all, he isn’t supposed to be working in the shop on a Sunday. In his pride, he goes behind his master’s back and breaks the rules of his religion and community instead of accepting the lesson Mr. Lapham tries to teach him. Because of the burn, Johnny’s life as a silversmith apprentice ends, and he must find another way to survive in a rapidly changing world.

“Suddenly Isannah’s delighted cries changed to hysterical screams. ‘Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me with that dreadful hand!’ Johnny stopped. It was the worst thing anyone had said to him. He stood like stone, his hand thrust back into his pocket. Cilla froze too—half under the kitchen table, a lime in her hand. ‘Oh, Isannah! How could you?’”

At first, Isannah issues “delighted cries” at the gifts Johnny bought for her with the silver pieces from Mr. Hancock. Just for a moment, the protagonist feels like everything is normal for the first time since his injury. However, Isannah destroys his short-lived joy with “the worst thing anyone had said to him.” The boy must already endure the pity and excessive curiosity of strangers, but his young friend’s words wound him in a way no stranger ever could. This scene helps to explain why Johnny tries to hide his hand and struggles with his self-image because of his injury for much of the novel. This passage is also significant because it is the first indication of a rift between Cilla and Isannah. Cilla dotes on her younger sister, but she is horrified by Isannah’s capacity for cruelty and her focus on appearances. Ultimately, these negative traits separate the girls when Isannah chooses a life of luxury in London with Lavinia Lyte over remaining in America with her sister.

“What was it his mother had said so long ago? If there was nothing left and God Himself had turned away his face, then, and only then, Johnny was to go to Mr. Lyte. In his ears rang his mother’s sweet remembered accents. Surely for one second, between sleeping and waking, he had seen her dear face, loving, gentle, intelligent, floating toward him through the moonlight on Copp’s Hill. He sat a long time with his arms hugging his knees. Now he knew what to do. This very day he would go to Merchant Lyte. When at last he lay down, he slept heavily, without a dream and without a worry.”

After Isannah’s cruel words about his right hand, Johnny leaves the Laphams’ house and goes to his mother’s grave. The desolate setting is the perfect mirror for the protagonist’s emotions in this moment. He feels as though “God Himself had turned away his face” and there is “nothing left” for him. He has lost his promising career, his betrothal to Cilla, and his sense of identity. The only comfort he has left is the memory of his deceased mother. The down-to-earth Johnny is not inclined toward superstition, which makes his belief that he sees his mother’s spirit “floating toward him through the moonlight on Copp’s Hill” all the more surprising. The ghostly vision indicates that Johnny’s loneliness and despair are impacting his senses and his decision making. After all, abject despair is the prerequisite Johnny’s mother set for any contact with the Lytes, so it’s unsurprising that his emotions are affecting his judgment. Although his choice to see the merchant comforts him at first, this decision nearly costs him his life.

“‘My long-lost cup returned to me by my long-lost little—ha-ha—whatever you are—kerchoo!’ He had taken more snuff. ‘Bring your cup to me tonight. You know my Beacon Hill house.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘And we’ll kill the fatted calf—you long-lost whatever-you-are. Come an hour after candles are lit. Prodigal Son, what? Got a cup, has he?’”

Johnny’s first meeting with Mr. Lyte foreshadows the merchant’s treachery. He sarcastically uses biblical imagery, calling Johnny a “Prodigal Son” and offering to “kill the fatted calf” in honor of his return. Even though Johnny hasn’t acquired any of the affluent family’s wealth or prestige for himself, pride leads him to behave as though he is already guaranteed a life of privilege. This prevents him from questioning why Mr. Lyte wants him to come “an hour after candles are lit” rather than in broad daylight. Thus, Johnny is taken by surprise when Mr. Lyte steals his silver cup and has him arrested.

“She bent and kissed his burned hand. He said nothing. He was suddenly afraid he might cry.”

Isannah makes amends by appearing in court on Johnny’s behalf, but the kiss is even more moving than her testimony because it heals the damage inflicted by her cruel words in Chapter 3. Johnny was dry-eyed throughout his trial even when Mr. Lyte called for his execution, but this act of gentleness and reconciliation brings him to the verge of tears.

“Here were acres upon acres of meadow and cow pasture, hard ground cleared for the drilling of militia. The sun and the wind swept through them. Trees were turned to scarlet, gold, beefy red: blueberry bushes to crimson. Through one patch a white cow was plodding, seemingly up to her belly in blood. The cold, wild air was like wine in the veins. And across the vast, blue sky, white clouds hurried before the wind like sheep before invisible wolves.”

In this description of Boston Common during Johnny’s first and only riding lesson with Rab, Forbes once again demonstrates her skill with imagery. The author creates an undercurrent of danger in the beautiful, peaceful scene through the brief mention of the militia and the allusions to blood and wolves. The author’s use of color offers subtle foreshadowing. Autumn paints the meadows “scarlet” and “crimson.” Before long, the Common will be red with the uniforms of encamped British soldiers.

“Because he came from Boston and rode for the Observer, he was often questioned about the political thinking at the capital. By reading the papers, talking to Rab and Uncle Lorne, listening to the leaders of opposition about Boston, he quickly became well informed. In only a few weeks he changed from knowing little enough about the political excitement, and caring less, to being an ardent Whig.”

Johnny’s rapidly increasing interest in politics is an important part of his character development. In a sense, his widening perspective is simply a practical way for him to adapt to his new job delivering papers. On a deeper level, Johnny’s growth into “an ardent Whig” demonstrates the profound influence Rab’s friendship and ideals have on the protagonist. As the novel continues, Johnny rides from town to town not only to spread knowledge of political happenings but to gather military intelligence and have a hand in the struggle for independence.

“‘Every Thursday and every Sunday afternoon.’ Those were his last words and he thought he meant them. He thought six months, a year, six years from now, the girls would be as dear to him as they were at that moment.”

Johnny’s old life intersects with his new one when he encounters Cilla and Isannah on his delivery route. He promises to meet with them twice a week, thinking they will always be “dear to him.” However, even as Johnny makes this promise, the narrator foreshadows that he will break it with the words “he thought he meant […].” Johnny rarely keeps his word and goes to see Cilla and Isannah in the town square because he is caught up in the exciting, politically charged world of the printing office. He finds the Lapham girls’ lives boring by comparison, and thus a new sort of pride damages his relationship with Cilla.

“‘Well, boys,’ said a voice, so cold one hardly knew whether he spoke in anger or not, ‘you’ve had a fine, pleasant evening for your Indian caper, haven’t you? But mind…you’ve got to pay the fiddler yet.’ It was the British Admiral Montague.”

The “Indian caper” refers to the Boston Tea Party because the colonists crudely disguise themselves as Indigenous Americans before boarding the East India Company’s ships. Admiral Montague’s warning that the rebels have “got to pay the fiddler yet” foreshadows the ramifications of the Boston Tea Party. The bill comes due when England closes the ports and dispatches thousands of troops to occupy the city. Things are never the same again—for Johnny or anyone else in Boston.

“Cilla had changed so much Johnny felt confused. One thing was certain. She wasn’t going to hang around and wait for him either on street corners or at back doors—and then not have him show up.”

Johnny and Cilla’s conversation in the printing office marks a shift in their relationship. In quick succession, she informs Johnny that she won’t be able to meet him in the town square anymore, that Mr. Tweedie intends to marry her, and that she and Isannah are living with the Lytes. This is a low point for Cilla and Johnny because it looks as though they won’t be able to see much of each other, let alone find a way to wed. However, Cilla doesn’t seem to mind this cooling of their relationship. Both young people are changing, and one of these changes is that Cilla stands up for herself more. She isn’t going “to hang around and wait” for Johnny after the way he broke his promise to her. Johnny reaps the consequences of his actions just as Boston faces the consequences of the Tea Party, giving the chapter title, “The Fiddler’s Bill,” another layer of meaning.

“He looked in the birth and death room. It was once more used for storage. It seemed strange beyond belief that he had ever lain so long in the room. And in a way he had died in that room; at least something had happened and the bright little silversmith’s apprentice was no more. He stood here again at the threshold, but now he was somebody else.”

Johnny’s final visit to the Laphams’ house gives him some much-needed closure and develops two of the novel’s major themes, Surviving in a Changing World and Learning Humility and Empathy. By examining the birth and death room where he spent his convalescence, the protagonist circles back to the novel’s beginning. The room is an evocative symbol of rebirth. His time there marked the end of his life as “the bright little silversmith's apprentice” and the beginning of his transformation into “somebody else,” someone humbler and wiser. Standing in the Laphams’ home makes Johnny realize how much he’s changed. For example, he’s let go of his hatred for Dove. The changes within the protagonist connect to the broader changes in the novel. The old world the colonists knew is gone just as surely as Johnny’s old self has vanished, and he recognizes that his personal struggles are small compared to the broader conflict that’s taken hold of Boston.

“‘Take it now.’ ‘No.’ He set it down and turned restlessly to Cilla. He could not say to anyone what went through his mind—not to Cilla, not even to himself. He acted and spoke blindly. ‘It’s no good to me. We’ve…moved on to other things.’ ‘But it isn’t stealing to take back what Mr. Lyte stole from you.’ ‘I don’t want it.’ ‘What?’ ‘No. I’m better off without it. I want nothing of them. Neither their blood nor their silver…I’ll carry that hamper for you, Cil. Mr. Lyte can have the old cup.’”

After the Lyte family flees from Milton, Cilla urges Johnny to reclaim his stolen silver cup. The cup, which symbolizes wealth and social status, was Johnny’s most prized possession for much of his life. However, he chooses to leave the cup and everything it signifies behind. He has seen what the Lytes are willing to do to keep their power and privilege, and he wants “nothing of them. Neither their blood nor their silver.” He cannot fully articulate his thoughts, “not even to himself,” but he has “moved on to other things.” He once craved a life of riches and prestige, but now he is content to humbly serve the cause of liberty.

“‘Now it will be in good order when the Lytes come back.’ Johnny felt sad. He went to her and put his arms about her and his thin cheek against her hair. ‘Cilla, they won’t ever come back.’ ‘Never?’ ‘No. This is the end. The end of one thing—the beginning of something else. They won’t come back because there is going to be a war—civil war. And we’ll win. First folk like them get routed out of Milton—then out of Boston. And the cards are going to be reshuffled. Dealt again.’”

Johnny foreshadows the coming war and the ways that it will reshape the colonists’ lives. His prophecy regarding the “end of one thing—the beginning of something else” develops the theme of Surviving in a Changing World and connects to the chapter’s title. His metaphor of cards being “reshuffled” and “[d]ealt again” refers to the Whigs’ hope that the war will result in a society with greater freedom and equality for all rather than a privileged few. In addition to its thematic and stylistic elements, this scene is significant because it presents a rare display of the protagonist’s more tender emotions. Johnny’s closeness to Cilla at this moment gives the reader hope that they will find a way to be together despite the many challenges facing them.

“I will work for war: the complete freedom of these colonies from any European power. We can have that freedom only by fighting for it. God grant we fight soon. [....] I will work for but one thing. War—bloody and terrible death and destruction. But out of it shall come such a country as was never seen on this earth before. We will fight.”

Throughout the novel, Forbes presents Sam Adams as a firebrand bent on conflict compared to the other Whig leaders, who are more open to peace and compromise. Adams emphatically informs his fellow Boston Observers that his goal in attending the Continental Congress is to “work for war.” Adams predicts “bloody and terrible death and destruction,” but he believes this is the price of freedom. Although his speech paints a dire picture of the immediate future, he also predicts the birth of a nation “as was never seen on this earth before.” This develops the theme of the greater good.

“‘It is all so much simpler than you think,’ he said. He lifted his hands and pushed against the rafters. ‘We give all we have, lives, property, safety, skills…we fight, we die, for a simple thing. Only that a man can stand up.’”

James Otis’s speech during the final meeting of the Boston Observers presents a simple yet compelling reason for the Revolutionary War—“that a man can stand up.” The orator portrays the colonists’ struggle for independence as part of a broader struggle for freedom and human dignity that will continue for centuries and inspire people all over the world. His words develop the theme of Self-Sacrifice for the Greater Good and foreshadow Rab’s death and Johnny’s decision to join the militia at the end of the novel.

“He had never noticed before how beautiful was the stitching, and it hurt him to think he had been too proud to wear them, for now he was old enough to appreciate the love that had gone into their making. How little his mother had known of the working world to make smocks for a boy who she knew was to become a silversmith! She hadn’t known anything, really, of day labor, the life of apprentices. She had been frail, cast off, sick, and yet she had fought up to the very end for something. That something was himself, and he felt humble and ashamed.”

Johnny receives another lesson in humility when he examines the smocks his late mother sewed for him but he was “too proud to wear.” He feels “hurt” and “ashamed” when he remembers how his ailing mother struggled tirelessly to provide for him until the end of her life. Although his gratitude comes years too late, his shame at his former pride shows the growth of this dynamic protagonist and develops the theme of Learning Humility and Empathy. In addition, the smock will be part of a disguise to help Pumpkin, a British private, pursue the peaceful, pastoral life of his dreams. Ultimately, Pumpkin is caught and executed for desertion, but his death is not entirely meaningless. The musket and uniform he leaves behind set the stage for the novel’s ending because Rab carries the former into battle and Johnny uses the latter to slip out of Boston.

“‘Look!’ Johnny cried. You could see the flash of musket fire, too far away to be heard. Fireflies swarming, hardly more than that.”

Johnny witnesses fighting near Beacon Hill, but the distance and darkness make the conflict appear remote and tame. Forbes compares “the flash of musket fire” to “[f]ireflies swarming.” This metaphor contrasts sharply with the lavish, peaceful nature imagery the author provides earlier in the novel. The use of fragments adds to the impressionistic quality of the ironically docile description.

“‘Well,’ said Lavinia, ‘I haven’t got all day. Which do you love the most?’ Isannah began to cry. It was perfectly natural crying. Not even Johnny could believe it was done for effect. ‘I don’t know,’ she sobbed. ‘Which would you rather be, a common person like your sister or a fine lady?’”

The scene in which Lavinia Lyte forces Isannah to choose between her and Cilla marks a key moment in the novel’s character development. Lavinia demonstrates great cruelty by making the little girl choose in the first place and by asking her, “Which do you love the most?” Isannah bursts into tears, but she eventually chooses Lavinia over the sister who cared for her all her life. This shows the selfishness that Johnny has disliked in Isannah for years and confirms that the young girl has much more in common with Lavinia than her sister. Cilla demonstrates admirable composure in this emotionally fraught scene, refusing to beg for affection from someone she knows she lost long ago. Cilla’s social status may make her “a common person,” but this scene clearly illustrates that the stalwart girl is superior to Lavinia in ways that matter more than class. It’s no coincidence that this chapter represents the conclusion of Lavinia’s time in Johnny’s life and the end of his romantic fascination with her.

“‘How old are you, Johnny?’ she asked. ‘Sixteen.’ ‘And what’s that—a boy or a man?’ He laughed. ‘A boy in time of peace and a man in time of war.’ ‘Well, men have got the right to risk their lives for things they think worth it. God go with you, my young man. But if they shoot you, remember, I warned you.’”

Johnny’s conversation with Mrs. Bessie connects to the theme of Self-Sacrifice for the Greater Good. She says that “men have got the right to risk their lives for things they think worth it.” For Johnny, gathering information for the resistance and learning what has become of Rab is worth risking death for impersonating a British soldier. Two years have passed since the novel’s beginning, and the reader has seen Johnny grow into someone who can rise to this occasion. His selfless, courageous actions contrast starkly with his old pride.

“‘You can have that musket. I sort of like to think of its going on [....]’ ‘I’ll take good care of it.’ Then Rab began to smile. Everything he had never put in words was in that smile.”

Johnny’s final conversation with Rab provides important development for both characters and the theme of Self-Sacrifice for the Greater Good. During their last exchange, Johnny thinks about how he never fully knew the older boy even though he is his best friend, but Rab’s smile contains “[e]verything he had never put in words.” This smile is truer to the self-contained Rab’s character than a deathbed speech would be while also offering Johnny the solace that their friendship meant as much to Rab as it did to him. Rab’s musket is a motif that supports the theme of Self-Sacrifice for the Greater Good. By giving it to Johnny, Rab metaphorically passes the torch to his friend and recruits Johnny to fight for the cause he gave his life for.