"What's the matter?"—"What's the mat-ter?"
"Matter enough, you'll find, by daylight!" was the hurried reply. "The British are coming!"
152. The Night March to Concord.—Meanwhile the British soldiers were marching along rapidly through the cool April night. They made no noise. There was no drumbeat; the officers gave their commands almost in whispers. Only the clatter of the horses' hoofs and the steady tramp of the marching men broke the silence. When day dawned they approached the village of Lexington, ten miles from Boston and about two-thirds of the way to Concord. They were not entirely surprised to find, even so early, a squad of armed minute-men awaiting them, for they had heard church bells ringing and had seen, all along their march, lights moving to and fro in the farm houses.
153. The Patriots make a stand at Lexington.—The British arrived at Lexington about half-past four. Ready to meet them were some sixty or seventy men drawn up on the village green close beside the meeting-house, with loaded guns. As they stood there, silent and fearless, on that sweet spring morning, April 19, 1775, their leader, Captain John Parker, who fifteen years before had climbed the Heights of Abraham by the side of Wolfe, addressed them briefly.
"Stand your ground. Don't fire unless fired upon," said Parker; "but if they mean to have a war, let it begin here!" Seventy men against eight hundred! War it was, and it did begin there.
Paul Revere's Ride.
Major Pitcairn, who soon afterwards fell at Bunker Hill, rode up and cried out:—
"Disperse, you villains! Throw down your arms, you rebels, and go home!"
He then discharged his pistol and, turning to his soldiers, cried, "Fire!" Instantly flashed out the first volley of the Revolutionary War, and eight of the farmer minute-men fell dead!