Part 4 (1/2)

Revere, Dawes, and young Doctor Prescott, of Concord, who had joined them, had got over half the distance to the next town, when, at a sudden turning, they came upon the second redcoat patrol. Prescott leaped his horse over the roadside wall, and so escaped across the fields to Concord. Revere and Dawes, at the point of the pistol, gave themselves up. Their business on the road at that hour was demanded by the officer, who was told in return to listen. Then, through the still morning air, the distant booming of the alarm bell's peal on peal was borne to their ears.

It was the British who were now uneasy. Ordering the prisoners to follow them, the troop rode off at a gallop toward Lexington, and when they were at the edge of the village, Revere was told to dismount, and was left to s.h.i.+ft for himself. He then ran as fast as his legs could carry him across the pastures back to the Clark parsonage, to report his misadventure, while the patrol galloped off toward Boston to announce theirs. But by this time, the Minute Men of Lexington had rallied to oppose the march of the troops. Thanks to the intrepidity of Paul Revere, the North End coppersmith, the redcoats, instead of surprising the rebels in their beds, found them marshalled on Lexington Green, and at Concord Bridge, in front, flank, and rear, armed and ready to dispute their march to the bitter end.

”You know the rest. In the books you have read How the British regulars fired and fled-- How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farmyard wall, Chasing the redcoats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load.

”So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middles.e.x village and farm---- A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo for evermore!

For, borne on the night wind of the past, Through all our history, to the last, The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof beats of that steed, And the midnight message of Paul Revere.”[6]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 5: Drake's ”Historic Fields and Mansions of Middles.e.x.”

Little, Brown & Co., publishers.]

[Footnote 6: ”Paul Revere's Ride:” Longfellow's Poems. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., publishers.]

HANc.o.c.k'S DOROTHY Q.

The Dorothy Q. of our present interest is not the little maiden of Holmes's charming poem--

”Grandmother's mother; her age I guess, Thirteen summers, or something less; Girlish bust, but womanly air; Smooth, square forehead with uprolled hair, Lips that lover has never kissed; Taper fingers and slender wrist; Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade; So they painted the little maid.

On her hand a parrot green Sits unmoving and broods serene.”

but her niece, the Dorothy Q. whom John Hanc.o.c.k loved, and was visiting at Lexington, when Paul Revere warned him of the redcoats' approach.

This Dorothy happened to be staying just then with the Reverend Jonas Clark, under the protection of Madam Lydia Hanc.o.c.k, the governor's aunt.

And it was to meet her, his fiancee, that Hanc.o.c.k went, on the eve of the 19th of April, to the house made famous by his visit.

One imaginative writer has sketched for us the notable group gathered that April night about the time-honoured hearthstone in the modest Lexington parsonage: ”The last rays of the setting sun have left the dampness of the meadows to gather about the home; and each guest and family occupant has gladly taken seats within the house, while Mrs.

Jonas Clark has closed the shutters, added a new forelog, and fanned the embers to a cheerful flame. The young couple whom Madam Hanc.o.c.k has studiously brought together exchange sympathetic glances as they take part in the conversation. The hours wear away, and the candles are snuffed again and again. Then the guests retire, not, to be sure, without apprehensions of approaching trouble, but with little thought that the king's strong arm of military authority is already extended toward their very roof.”[7]

[Ill.u.s.tration: CLARK HOUSE, LEXINGTON, Ma.s.s.]

Early the next morning, as we know, the lovers were forced to part in great haste. And for a time John Hanc.o.c.k and his companion, Samuel Adams, remained in seclusion, that they might not be seized by General Gage, who was bent on their arrest, and intended to have them sent to England for trial.

The first word we are able to find concerning Hanc.o.c.k's whereabouts during the interim between his escape from Lexington, and his arrival at the Continental Congress, appointed to convene at Philadelphia, May 10, 1775, is contained in a long letter to Miss Quincy. This letter, which gives a rather elaborate account of the dangers and triumphs of the patriot's journey, concludes: ”Pray let me hear from you by every Post.

G.o.d bless you, my dear girl, and believe me most Sincerely, Yours most Affectionately, John Hanc.o.c.k.”

A month later, June 10, 1775, we find the charming Dorothy Q., now the guest at Fairfield, Connecticut, of Thaddeus Burr, receiving this letter from her lover:

”MY DEAR DOLLY:--I am almost prevail'd on to think that my letters to my Aunt & you are not read, for I cannot obtain a reply, I have ask'd million questions & not an answer to one, I beg'd you to let me know what things my Aunt wanted & you and many other matters I wanted to know but not one word in answer. I Really Take it extreme unkind, pray, my dear, use not so much Ceremony & Reservedness, why can't you use freedom in writing, be not afraid of me, I want long Letters. I am glad the little things I sent you were agreeable. Why did you not write me of the top of the Umbrella. I am sorry it was spoiled, but I will send you another by my Express which will go in a few days. How did my Aunt like her gown, & let me know if the Stockings suited her; she had better send a pattern shoe & stocking, I warrant I will suit her.... I Beg, my dear Dolly, you will write me often and long Letters, I will forgive the past if you will mend in future. Do ask my Aunt to make me up and send me a Watch String, and do you make up another and send me, I wear them out fast. I want some little thing of your doing. Remember me to all my Friends with you, as if named. I am Call'd upon and must obey.

”I have sent you by Doctor Church in a paper Box Directed to you, the following things, for your acceptance, & which I do insist you wear, if you do not I shall think the Donor is the objection: