The British commanding officer was becoming more enraged by the second and clapped his pistol to Paul Revere’s head. “If you do not tell the truth, I am going to take this gun and blow your brains out.” The officer gave a wicked smile.
Paul glared at the man and said serenely, “I do not need a threat to make me speak the truth. I call myself a man of truth, and you have stopped me on a highway, and made me a prisoner I know not of what right. I will tell the truth, for I am not afraid.” A smile crept across Paul’s face as he revealed the secret plans of his enemy. “In the dead of night a column of troops left Boston by boat and crossed the Back Bay, and came across at Cambridge.”
“Nonsense!” shouted the commander. But the men began to whisper to each other nervously.
“If you value your lives I would stay far away from Lexington. I expect five hundred men there soon,” Paul said.
Clearly, Paul Revere was trying to lead the British away from Hancock and Adams in Lexington.
A chubby British Redcoat jumped when an owl hooted from a nearby tree.
The British commander’s eyes fell upon Cam. He reached out his hand and lifted Cam’s chin until he was staring into his eyes. “Do you want to be let go, boy?” he asked. “Tell your friend to give us the answers we need.” Cam bit his teeth together and stared directly into the Redcoat’s eyes.
The commander pushed Cam away. “You little fool,” he exclaimed. He raised his pistol and pointed it at Paul Revere.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a single gunshot ripped through the dark and quiet night air. My heart leapt. I pulled Cam back away from the noise and under my arm. I couldn’t bring myself to look. Did he really just shoot Paul Revere? Heaven help us, we have changed history, I thought. We killed Paul Revere. I forced myself to look back at Paul’s body and found him still standing.
The British commander jerked his head around and asked, “What was that?”
Whew! I breathed a sigh of relief. Paul Revere was not shot. The sound had come from somewhere in the distance, from Lexington.
“I told you,” said Paul with a slight grin. “The colony of Massachusetts has been warned. Lexington is ready to fight. You will all be rounded up and put in prison for life. And the country folk are not exactly happy with what you have done to them.”
Suddenly the sky erupted with a thunderous explosion of musket fire. An entire volley of gunshots echoed through the trees and pasture. It sounded like loud firecrackers all going off at the same time. The soldier’s horses bucked and skidded backward as the Redcoats pulled at their reins.
“They are shooting at Lexington. Paul Revere speaks the truth,” said a Redcoat.
“Like I said, I am a man of truth,” Paul repeated.
Finally, we could hear the distant sound of Lexington’s town bell ringing wildly.
“Can you hear that?” exclaimed Paul. “The people of Lexington and all the towns within the sound of those bells know you are here. As I said before, your surprise is lost.”
A look of horror appeared on the British commander’s face.
Brilliant! I thought. Even at the peril of his own life, Paul Revere delayed ten British soldiers and tricked them into thinking that they were known to the American Patriots in Lexington.
“Bring me the prisoners’ horses,” barked the British commander.
Brown Beauty was held by a nearby Redcoat. The other officers quickly scanned the area but found no sign of Liberty. The commander glared at me and asked, “Where in blazes is your horse?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said.
“You are all liars. No matter, you won’t be needing it,” he said. “You may keep your life, Paul Revere. But I will keep your horse. It is a fine specimen—one worthy of a commander in the British army, don’t you think?” The commander smirked and walked over to Brown Beauty and hoisted himself onto the saddle. He slapped her hard on the neck and she stepped back.
“On your horses, men!” he ordered the other Redcoats.
“Liberty will be devastated,” I said. He had an obvious crush on Brown Beauty from the moment he saw her.
The British commander kicked his spurs into Brown Beauty’s stomach. She recoiled and pulled backward. “Curse you and your Patriot spies,” exclaimed the commander.
The ten soldiers spurred their horses down the path. As they moved out, several spit at us and one shouted, “Bloody rebels!”
Paul Revere let out a breath of air and said, “Well, we fooled them, didn’t we?”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I am, but now we need to get back to Lexington one way or another. We may not have our horses, but we still have our lives and our freedom,” Paul said, grabbing his shoulder and wiping some of the dirt and blood off his jacket.
“How did you stay so calm? I mean it was crazy. Those guys wanted to kill you and you sounded totally casual like it happens every day,” Cam said. He looked at Paul with large eyes.
“It is important to never let your opponent know your true feelings. I was nervous on the inside but I knew if I showed that on my face, it would have been a different ending,” Paul said. “You were very brave yourself. You are a great example of a young Patriot. You make us proud. Your father must be a very brave man to have raised a son with so much courage.”
You could see Cam stand up taller as he thought about the compliment.
“We must hurry on. It is inevitable now. The war is about to begin and we have much work to do,” Paul said and started to walk ahead.
Under the bright moonlight, we watched the Redcoats ride away. My heart sank as I realized how badly they would treat Brown Beauty. Just as they started to fade in the distance one British rider flew backward off his horse and fell to the ground.
“Did you see that?” Cam asked, flabbergasted.
I nodded, equally surprised. “It looked like a branch of a tree had snapped backward and knocked the rider off the horse. It was as if someone had pulled back the branch as far as it could go and then let it whip forward at just the right moment.”
We kept watching closely as Brown Beauty kicked up her back legs in celebration and raced away under the moonlight. The British commander jumped on his original horse and they all galloped away.
Cam whispered, “Mr. Revere, I think Liberty just rescued Brown Beauty.”
“No doubt,” I replied softly. “There’s a hero in all of us. And it typically comes out when we’re fighting to free ourselves or those we love.”
“Unless one of our horses comes back soon it looks like we’ll be walking back to Lexington!” said Paul Revere.
“With all the gunfire in Lexington I’m pretty worried about Tommy,” I said.
“I can understand your concern,” said Paul Revere. “The collective shot we heard earlier sounded like the Lexington Patriots clearing their muskets. If we hurry we can get there before the King’s army arrives.”
A flash of movement caught our eye. We turned and saw Liberty galloping in our direction. He was alone. What happened to Brown Beauty, I thought?
“Liberty!” Cam shouted.
Liberty slowed to a trot and then walked right up to us.
“You have a very smart horse,” said Paul, reaching out to pat Liberty’s neck.
“Yes,” I said, and mumbled, “you don’t know the half of it.”
I must admit I was thrilled to see Liberty. I whispered in his ear, “Where is Brown Beauty?” He shrugged his shoulders as if to suggest he didn’t know. There had to be more to that story but it wasn’t the time to ask.
Paul Revere picked up his pace and said, “There is a trunk at the Buckman Tavern with secret papers from John Hancock that must be moved. I need to go and secure those. I know a shortcut back to town. I recommend you ride your horse to the Hancock-Clarke House and check on Tommy. Take the main road. With the bells still ringing you should be safe.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “Godspeed, Paul Revere.”
Paul gave us a wa
rm smile before he left down the road toward Lexington. “Be safe, fellow Sons of Liberty, our cause is glorious!”
I quickly hoisted myself up onto Liberty and Cam joined me. Liberty turned and began a fast trot down the main road.
Our return trip to Lexington took longer than I remembered. And it felt darker and colder, too. The moon had already dipped below some tall oak and beech trees. All we could see was the lamplights of distant homesteads, and all we could hear was the sound of distant bells. Cam was getting tired. I think the excitement kept him awake much longer than normal but as we rode he leaned against my back, half asleep. I was feeling the effects of the late night and the capture, too, but I knew we had to go on. Even Liberty was oddly quiet. The only thing he said about Brown Beauty as we left the pasture was that he hoped those soldiers didn’t capture her again. I’m sure her well-being consumed his thoughts. As the wind gently blew through the trees and branches, bits of ice fell onto my coat and Liberty’s mane.
“I am starting to think I made a huge mistake leaving Tommy back in Lexington,” I told Liberty. “I got caught up in the moment with Hancock and Adams and thought it would be a great learning experience. But I fear I may have put him at risk. I shouldn’t have left him there.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Lexington is right around this bend,” said Liberty.
The sun was still below the horizon but its rays pushed up and over the low hills and countryside. As we rounded the bend, I still couldn’t see any buildings, but I could clearly hear the Lexington bell. The sound was loud enough to wake up Cam.
“Those bells make a great alarm clock,” he said groggily.
“Indeed,” I said, “it looks like Dr. Warren’s plan has worked. The bells are ringing all over the countryside.”
Sleepily, Cam said, “Just like the Pilgrims’ bell.” He yawned. “Tommy told me how the Pilgrims used a bell to warn them of danger, too.”
What an interesting thought. I loved how these children remembered everything.
As we entered the city, I was alarmed to see hundreds of British Redcoats standing in formation near the center of town, muskets in hand and ready to fight. “Liberty, take us behind that church,” I said, hoping it would keep us out of the line of fire. The white church steeple rose above Lexington Green. The green was a large field and Cam, Liberty, and I stood at the far end from where the Redcoats stood. I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see it was nearly five o’clock in the morning.
“Why are all those people standing around in front?” Cam asked.
“They are blocking the road to Concord,” I replied.
There were not many American soldiers, perhaps seventy. None of them were wearing uniforms. They looked like farmers. One was wearing work clothes and carried an old rifle; another wore a blue hat that nearly covered his face. Many wore knee-length breeches. None stood in formation. I could not imagine how this group could take on the soldiers of the mighty British Empire.
Suddenly a single gunshot rang out straight ahead. Liberty jolted backward.
This is Lexington Green in modern times. Look how close the houses are to the battle site. They were there in 1775.
As we peered around the corner of the church, gunfire rippled through the air and a look of pure chaos filled the streets near the Buckman Tavern. A cloud of white smoke rose in front of a couple hundred Regulars. Had these British troops fired their muskets at the Lexington Patriots? It felt like the Boston Massacre all over again.
The Americans ran in all directions toward the safety of the buildings that surrounded the Green, and where women and children watched from their porches. A woman in the doorway of a house to our left began to scream.
Scattered gunfire continued as more and more Regulars shot their muskets. It sounded like the sky had cracked open as lead balls ripped through anything in their path. Frightened horses bolted forward searching for refuge. Clouds of dirty musket smoke filled the air and made it difficult to see what was happening.
Suddenly, Cam pointed and shouted, “Look! By that house! There’s a kid on the porch right in the middle of the battle! He’s going to get shot!”
Where is he pointing, I thought? I couldn’t see the kid he was referring to.
“Oh, no, Tommy???” Cam shouted.
My heart sank just like it had when Brown Beauty was taken from Paul Revere. I looked closer to where Cam was pointing. Sure enough, amid the scattering spectators was a blond-haired boy who looked about the size of Tommy. He was standing near a house about a hundred yards from the Buckman Tavern. The British Redcoats were only a house or two away. A woman stood right behind him holding his shoulder.
“What on earth is Tommy doing there?” I shouted in a panic over the noise. I was truly terrified, like someone had just snuck up behind me in a dark room.
“Tommy!” Cam yelled, waving his hands above his head like a drowning swimmer.
“Cam, get down, they are shooting!”
“Should I go get him?” Liberty said in a serious tone.
“Tommy! Tommy!” Cam kept screaming over and over but the shouting, screams, and gunfire were too deafening. “Mr. Revere, we can’t let anything happen to him. He’s my best friend.” Desperately, Cam called out one more time as loud as his lungs allowed him. “Tommy!”
Tommy finally heard his name being shouted and looked our way. It was hard to feel angry at him for disobeying me because all I really wanted was for him to get to a safe place.
Tommy shouted back, “Little Liberty is in that stable, we have to save him!” He slipped out of the woman’s grasp and ran through the Green toward a small stable.
“Cam stay here with Liberty. Do not move, do you hear me?” I said frantically.
All of a sudden I realized that we were watching the Battle of Lexington Green.
The historian in me was thrilled to see the battle I had read about over and over again. But the teacher in me was panic-stricken. “Tommy!” I yelled. “Get out of there! Run!” I couldn’t believe what I had done . . . why did I leave him?
Tommy ran behind a large tree and used it as a shield. Tree bark splintered violently as a lead ball hit the large trunk.
“We need to get him out of there,” Cam shouted, and made a move to chase Tommy, but I held him back.
“Cam, those are real bullets and we are in real danger, stay down,” I said, but I couldn’t take my own advice. I ducked down and started running toward the tree, the bullets, the smoke, and toward the people fleeing the Redcoats. I could barely see. My eyes burned from the gunpowder and the air smelled like burnt matches.
I didn’t get far because Tommy was on the move again. He bolted from the tree and dashed to the nearby stable. I was about to follow him when the sound of a lead ball whizzed by my ear. I fell flat on my stomach, heart pounding.
I lifted my head and yelled, “Tommy, get down, get down!” Over and over I screamed above the sounds of the battle. Bits of cloth were below my feet. Shouts seemed to come from all around. I could barely make out the Buckman Tavern in front of me. It all seemed to go in slow motion as I pushed forward toward Tommy.
“Mr. Revere, I have to save Little Liberty!” Tommy yelled as he reached the edge of the stable.
I could see the stable was on fire. Tommy climbed through a fence and started opening the horse stalls. Like a jailbreak, the horses ran for freedom. But there was one stall still closed. Tommy raced forward on his hands and knees, trying to keep low. As Tommy lifted the latch, the stall door sprung open and Little Liberty bounded out the door like a playful puppy. The pony looked oblivious to the battle.
Tommy hopped onto the back of Little Liberty and nudged the pony forward. Together they raced out of the burning stable and toward the white church. The Redcoats were reloading their muskets.
Bang! A shot fired from a musket to my left. I was close enough to see the puff of smoke lift from the gun. Suddenly the smoke stopped in midair. The Redcoat holding the musket stood like a statue in a wax m
useum. The British army, the Lexington Patriots, the spectators, the horses, and even Tommy’s pony had frozen in time. It looked like a giant game of freeze tag and everyone had been tagged except Tommy. He sat on top of Little Liberty, who was stopped in mid-gallop, his tongue halfway out of his mouth like he’d licked an icy pole.
“What just happened?” Cam asked.
“We don’t have much time, literally!” said Liberty as we all rushed toward Tommy. “I can hold off time only until I blink again,” he warned.
Within seconds we were at Tommy’s side. Inches from his back was a lead ball suspended in the air.
“Whew! Am I glad to see you guys!” said Tommy, caught up in the moment.
Cam reached out to grab the lead ball but he couldn’t pull it from its midair flight.
“It’s stuck,” Cam said. “It won’t move an inch.”
“That’s because it’s frozen in time,” Liberty said quickly.
I clarified: “As soon as Liberty blinks everything will continue on its course through time. We’re not from this time period so we’re not affected by Liberty’s time control.”
“Enough talking, just save Tommy!” Liberty shouted. “I can’t hold this much longer.”
“Tommy, jump on Liberty’s back!” I shouted.
“No, I’m not leaving Little Liberty,” exclaimed Tommy.
“Then lean over to your left,” I said, tugging on his shirt. “Can you see the trajectory of the lead ball?”
“Eyes burning . . . can’t hold . . . gonna blink!” warned Liberty.
Tommy turned his head and glanced at the lead ball and then looked over at the Regular who shot it. “Yeah, I see it.”
“Good!” I shouted. “Just lean like that and you’ll be fine. When time starts again, race to the church!”
Suddenly the world exploded in surround sound.
As Little Liberty bounced forward the momentum raised Tommy a little higher. I had not taken that into consideration, and the lead ball ripped through the side of Tommy’s coat sleeve.
Tommy grimaced and gritted his teeth as Little Liberty and Big Liberty raced side by side until we found ourselves sheltered behind the church again.
Rush Revere and the American Revolution Page 8
