"What a glorious morning for America is this."[58]
Revere and Lowell reached Buckman Tavern, and there learned from a man who had just come up the road that the troops were within two miles. They proceeded to a chamber for the trunk, which they secured, and looking out of the window towards Boston, saw the King's soldiers but a little way off. They quickly made their exit from the Tavern, passed along the Common through Captain Parker's Company, or rather a small part of it, and heard his words:—
"Let the troops pass by and don't molest them without they begin first."[59]
When a little farther along, "not half gun shot off," as Revere expresses it, he heard a single gun, turned and saw the smoke of it rising just in front of the troops, heard them give a great shout, saw them run a few paces, heard irregular firing as of an advance guard, and then firing by platoons.
The American Revolution had indeed commenced.
[ALARMS IN OTHER PLACES.]
It must not be imagined that information of the night march of the troops was known only along the highway to their destination in Concord. There were fleet messengers in every direction, through the Counties of Middlesex and Essex and Norfolk. Those lanterns in the North Church steeple meant as much to many others as to those on the Charlestown shore. But few details of their rides have been left to us. Yet everywhere the hoof-beats, the shadowy form of the horseman—his cry of alarm, the drums—the bells—the guns—the assembling of the minute men,—their hurried march towards that one long and thin highway from Boston to Concord; some of these are known, and can be written of, as a part of the record of that day.
Northerly along the coast the alarm went. At Lynn, ten miles away, the inhabitants were awakened in the early morn of the 19th, by the information that 800 British soldiers had left Boston in the night and were proceeding towards Concord. Many immediately set out for the scene of the invasion, singly and in little bands, without waiting to march in company file.[60]
At Woburn, ten miles from Boston, a man rode up to the house of Mr. Douglass, about an hour before sunrise—and knocked loudly at the door, saying: