“A galloping horse is coming[1]
Across the field!—do you mark?”—
We woke and flew to the window,
We peer’d away in the dark.
The cloud-black night was bringing
The stir of a storm to fear.
What flash’d and clash’d!—who brought it?—
“I, I!” cried Paul Revere.[1]
“The British are off for Concord[1]
To seize the colony’s arms!
And Dawes[1] and I stole over
The river and over the farms.”
“Wait, wait,” we cried, “a moment;
You trust our lead awhile!
A cross-cut here to the highway
Will save you more than a mile!”
“Come quick!” said Paul. “Their plan is
To bear the arms away,
And store them safe in Boston
Before the break of day.”
“Yet wait you, Paul, and, waiting,
Tell how does Boston fare?”
“Alas,” he sigh’d, “no telling
How many will breakfast there.
“You know that, since the Port-Bill[2]
Laid up our merchant-fleet,
We had starved, unless the farmers[3]
Had sent us food to eat.
“To stop this, chains of pickets
Are strung on Boston Neck;
Our bay is black with frigates,
And all our trade they check.
“And thus they vow to treat us,
Till, humbled by their might,
We hold no courts nor meetings,[4]
And yield each charter’d right.
“Ay, ay, and let our leaders,
For serving us too well,
Be borne in chains to Britain,[5]
To fill some dungeon-cell.
“The men who call’d our Congress[6]
They swear to seize to-day.—
High time to rouse the country!
High time to save the prey!”
“Off, off!” we cried, and parted;
Then dragg’d from under the hay[7]
The guns our goods had cover’d
When borne from Boston Bay.
Our wives pour’d out the treasure
They too had brought from town,[7]
The powder, flint, and bullets
Well tuck’d in box and gown.
We arm’d in haste, but hardly
Had left with pouch and gun,
Before the bell rang, telling
Of Paul in Lexington.
At midnight saw he Charlestown;
Not two had struck the clock[8]
Yet here the trembling belfry
Was rallying all its flock.
They sought the green together;
Set guards on every road;
Then sought the inn to measure
The fate they might forebode.
Ten times their band in number
Were those they watch’d before;
And here should they withstand them?
Or fly to join with more?
“Stand here!” said Jonas Parker[19];
“The law has arm’d the town.”
“And here,” said Clark,[9] their pastor,
“Be right, and shame the crown.
“What, though they fire, and fight us?—
Make every heart rain blood?
Their guns, if heard in Concord,
May save it from the flood.
“And if the blood we give them
Shall save the colony-stores,
Like fruit shall we be falling,
Red-ripe to all our cores.
“And if the blood we give them
Be given to make us free,
The court may learn a lesson
And let our charters be.
“We are few, but what are numbers?—
This church may proof supply
That right may move to triumph
With only one—to die!”
He paused—the door flew open;
All heard a watch call out:
“Full drive a horseman coming!
Perhaps an army-scout!”
And out they flew to face him;
But on the charger fleet
No enemy, only a neighbor,[10]
Came galloping up the street.
“The foe are coming!” he stammer’d;
“They capture all they meet;
I dodg’d a man and musket;
And hark!—you hear their feet!”
We hush’d and heard a tramping
That well might bring despair,
And cause the nerves to tremble
Their loads of fear to bear.
“Sound drum[11] and gun,” said Parker,[10]
“And bell! If they but halt,
Where time is all we plan for,
We win without an assault.”
They halted,[12] then drew nearer;—
What need of halting more?
They came, a veteran army;
We never had fought before.
We stood but sixty farmers,[13]
Our homes and wives between,
Whose hands, up waved or wringing,
Seem’d fringing half the green.
“Be theirs the blame,” said Parker[14];
“Fire not till they fire first.
God’s house is here, and heaven,
If worse should come to worst.”
Athwart the gray of morning,
None knew how large a force
Came crowding against the common,
With cries and orders hoarse.
But yet across the common,
And just beyond the church,
We form’d a line to check there
The crown’s illegal search.
At double quick, and onward,
With bayonets fix’d, they came;
Then wide and wild their red coats
About us burst like flame.
Before them rode their leader,
And cried with many a curse:
“Lay down your arms, you villains![15]
You villains you, disperse!”
But, true to law and country,
Scarce one his musket dropt[16];
And then their column falter’d,
Broke up, moved slower, stopt.
“You rebels!” roar’d the leader,
While up his pistol came—[17]
A hint his minions welcomed;
We saw them all take aim.
We saw them, but we waited,
Till “Fire!” their leader cried,[17]
And shot, and howl’d, “Surround them!”
And round us turn’d to ride.
They fired and surged about us,[18]
Ah me, a fiery flood!—
All overwhelm’d, our brothers
Were falling, drench’d in blood.
“Serve God before the Briton!”
Cried Parker,[19] where he bled;
And nine of us were wounded;
And seven of us were dead.[20]
“Away!” a voice repeated,[21]
“Away while yet we may.
To stay were now but murder!
To wall and fence away!”
Off sped we then to shoot them,
Like Indians, one by one,
But walls, in smoke between us,
They deem’d it wise to shun.
They cheer’d[22] and left for Concord.
Our wounded home we bore:
Then we too left for Concord,
To meet them there once more.[23]