For the first time that day the little woman’s love of country seemed to rise triumphant within her, and drown every impulse to selfishness; or, was it the nearness to safety that she felt? Human conduct is the result of so many motives 35 that it is sometimes impossible to name the compound, although on that occasion Martha Moulton labelled it “Patriotism.”
“And yet I put out the fire for you,” he said.
“For your mother’s sake, in old England, it was, you remember, sir.”
“I remember,” said Major Pitcairn, with a sigh, as he turned away.
“And for her sake I will shake hands with you,” said Martha Moulton.
So he turned back, and, across the threshold, in presence of the waiting troops, the commander of the expedition to Concord and the only woman in the town shook hands at parting.
Martha Moulton saw Major Pitcairn mount his horse; heard the order given for the march to begin—the march of which you all have heard. You know what a sorry time the Red Coats had of it in getting back to Boston; how they were fought at every inch of the way, and waylaid from behind every convenient tree-trunk, and shot at from tree-tops, and aimed at from upper windows, and besieged from behind stone walls, and, in short, made so miserable and harassed and overworn, that at last their depleted ranks, with the tongues of the men parched and hanging, were fain to lie down by the road-side and take what came next, even though it might be death. And then the dead they left behind them!
Ah! there’s nothing wholesome to mind or body about war, until long, long after it is over 36 and the earth has had time to hide the blood, and send forth its sweet blooms of Liberty.
The men of that day are long dead. The same soil holds regulars and minute-men. England, which over-ruled, and the provinces, that put out brave hands to seize their rights, are good friends to-day, and have shaken hands over many a threshold of hearty thought and kind deed since that time.
The tree of Liberty grows yet, stately and fair, for the men of the Revolution planted it well, and surely, God himself hath given it increase. So we gather to-day, in this our story, a forget-me-not more, from the old town of Concord.