American Spring

by Walter R. Borneman

  Hancock was nonetheless quoted as saying, “If I had my musket, I would never turn my back upon these troops,” and other words to that effect as he busily cleaned his pistol and polished his sword.17 Adams was more at ease. The signal event that might spark the open and irrevocable break with Great Britain that he had been planning for more than a decade was likely at hand, but he had no desire to stand on Lexington Green. Their task, Adams assured his friend, was to focus on the bigger picture and avoid being struck down to little benefit. “That is not our business,” Adams told Hancock of the coming confrontation on the green. “We belong to the cabinet.”

  As Hancock and Adams went around and around about this, the rest of the Clarke household was in an uproar. When Dorothy Quincy fretted over the thought of her aging father stranded in Boston and vowed she would return to him in the morning, Hancock spoke to his fiancée as if she were a newly hired clerk in one of his warehouses. “No, madam,” Hancock decreed. “You shall not return as long as there is a British bayonet left in Boston.” Dorothy Quincy was cut from some of the same determined cloth as Hancock’s aunt Lydia, and, according to Dorothy’s reminiscence many years later, she replied, “Recollect, Mr. Hancock, I am not under your control yet.”18

  Finally, with Revere’s added weight brought to bear on Hancock, he agreed with Adams to seek safety away from Lexington and up the road toward the north. Leaving Lydia Hancock and Dorothy Quincy with the Clarkes—arguably they were safer in the parsonage than on the open road with the rebels’ two best-known leaders—Hancock, Adams, Revere, and John Lowell, who was one of Hancock’s most trusted clerks, departed Lexington. When they arrived at what was judged to be a safe house several miles away, Revere and Lowell left Hancock and Adams and returned to the Clarke house in Lexington. For Revere, it was his third arrival there in the span of four hours in the early morning of April 19.

  Perhaps it had been Hancock’s design all along, but some way or another, young Lowell persuaded Revere to continue with him to Buckman’s Tavern and rescue a heavy trunk of Hancock’s that was located in one of the upper rooms. It was a treasure trove of papers from the Provincial Congress and also held Hancock’s correspondence with committees of safety throughout the colony. Revere must have sighed just a little as he started off on yet another errand. But when the two men entered the tavern, they found a surprise.

  The bulk of Parker’s militia were still inside warming themselves. On the basis of the return of Parker’s first scout and no other alarms from the east, the rumor that Revere’s earlier shouts of alarm were false had gained strength. Revere doubted the false alarm rumors, but before he could sit down and savor a refreshment he was interrupted. A rider burst into the tavern with news that the regulars were not coming. They were here—marching into town at the quick less than half a mile from the tavern.

  Whether a scout dispatched by Parker or a nearby farmer along the Cambridge Road raised this cry is not entirely clear from contemporary accounts. But Captain Parker immediately ordered nineteen-year-old William Diamond, a newcomer from Boston who had been taught “the art of military drumming by a kindly British soldier,” to beat a loud roll on his drum and summon all men within earshot to assemble once more on the green.19

  As the militiamen scrambled out of the tavern, Revere and Lowell exchanged looks and knew what they must do. Up the narrow stairs they climbed to the chamber containing Hancock’s trunk. Loaded with papers, it was far more than one man could manage alone—four feet long, two feet wide, and some two and one-half feet high. As they bent to lift it and carry it downstairs, Revere chanced a glance out the window. The eastern sky was lightening, and he could make out the long column of British regulars approaching the three-way intersection adjacent to Lexington Green and the meetinghouse.

  On the road, Major Pitcairn heard William Diamond’s long roll on his rebel drum, halted his troops, and ordered them to load their muskets. Bells and signal guns were one thing, but to someone who had been a marine for almost thirty years, the ruffle of drums could only mean a call to battle.

  Revere and Lowell lugged Hancock’s trunk down the stairs and out the door of Buckman’s Tavern. The Lexington men had assembled in front of the tavern and then followed Parker to form a line on the northern end of the green, adjacent to Bedford Road, which led to the Clarke parsonage. It is possible that Parker chose this position with a thought to protecting what until a short while before had been the safe haven of Hancock and Adams. More likely, he chose it to have a sweeping view of the green and the road to Concord in the early morning light. Revere and Lowell “made haste” and passed through the line of militia with the trunk. As they did so, Revere heard Parker tell his men, “Lett the troops pass by, and don’t molest them, without They being first.”20

  These instructions appear to have been standing orders well known to all Massachusetts militia captains, and they dated back to the previous September, when the First Continental Congress, after approving the Suffolk Resolves, made it clear that the continued support of its sister colonies depended on Massachusetts showing restraint and being “on the defensive.”21

  This restraint may well have been the most likely reason for Parker’s position on the far northern corner of the green. Outnumbered at least three to one by Pitcairn’s advance guard—Colonel Smith and his main force were still well down the road toward Menotomy—the Lexington men sought no confrontation but were nonetheless out to show the regulars that they could not march freely through the town without notice. Later, Parker would be quoted as saying, “Stand your ground. Don’t fire unless fired upon. But if they mean to have a war let it begin here.”22

  If Pitcairn’s force had continued along the road to Concord at a brisk march, it is possible that no confrontation would have occurred on the green. But what triggered a halt by Pitcairn’s men and gave rise to the confusion that so often breeds errant action in such situations was that one or more of Pitcairn’s light infantry companies—likely the company from the Fourth Regiment, as well as those of the Fifth and Tenth, at the head of the column—turned the wrong way at the intersection and marched up Bedford Road between Buckman’s Tavern and the meetinghouse instead of bearing left toward Concord and paralleling the southwestern edge of the green.

  This took them directly toward Parker’s force rather than past it at an angle. To add to the confusion, Major Mitchell and his mounted officers were scurrying around the advancing infantry. After a sleepless night—what with the anxieties of capturing messengers and listening to Paul Revere assure them of both the size and ready response of the rebel force—Mitchell was not displaying steady British calm. Again the issue of divided command dogged the British force. Lieutenant Jesse Adair of the Royal Marines was leading the van, but was he following Pitcairn’s orders or did Mitchell issue different orders to Adair in the field?

  By the time Pitcairn saw what was happening at the intersection, approximately half his force—some one hundred men—had followed Adair along the northern edge of the green. Pitcairn frantically tried to recall them as his remaining companies turned left and followed the Concord road. To Parker and his men, the result was that the lightening sky silhouetted British troops appearing on both sides of the meetinghouse and advancing on their position. Given the morning light, it was difficult to see just how many soldiers were on the Bedford road coming straight toward them.

  If the Lexington men were suddenly seized by the fear of being surrounded, Pitcairn was also gripped by similar thoughts. This was because, in addition to the line of militia on the green, there were two knots of would-be spectators—perhaps twenty or so each—lurking in the wings. One group gathered near Buckman’s Tavern and the adjacent stable on Pitcairn’s right flank, and the other stood partially hidden behind the home of Nathan Munroe along the Concord road, on his left flank. Their purpose was uncertain, but to Pitcairn, they appeared to be mostly male, armed, and threatening. Suddenly, he thought, it might be his command that was surrounded.

  It
is certainly possible, as many reports have claimed, that it was Major Pitcairn who galloped across the line of British infantry that had turned off the Bedford road and spread across the green behind the meetinghouse, facing across the green toward the assembled militia. It is also possible that this rider was Major Mitchell, still highly charged with the events of the previous night. Whoever it was, this officer yelled some version of, “Lay down your arms, you damned rebels, and disperse.”23

  Elijah Sanderson recalled that there were perhaps as many as five mounted British officers in front of the British line, which seems to suggest that Mitchell and at least some of the officers from his patrol were at the forefront. Sanderson stepped into line, but he had sent his musket home the prior evening before his nighttime ride toward Concord. He later wrote, “Reflecting I was of no use, I stepped out again from the company” and fell back about thirty feet as the regulars were “coming on in full career.”24 John Robbins, who stood in the militia’s front line, later swore that “there suddenly appeared a number of the King’s Troops”—about one thousand, he mistakenly believed—“about sixty or seventy yards from us, huzzaing and on a quick pace towards us, with three officers in their front on horseback, and on full gallop towards us; the foremost of which cried, ‘Throw down your arms, ye villains, ye rebels.’ ”25

  In the account of Captain Parker, given six days later, he reiterated that having “concluded not to be discovered, nor meddle or make with said Regular Troops (if they should approach) unless they should insult us; and upon their sudden approach, I immediately ordered our Militia to disperse and not to fire.”26 Indeed, for whatever confusion was about to ensue, “sixty-two depositions collected from American eyewitnesses all testified that Parker’s militia was dispersing before it was fired upon.”27

  As bystander William Draper remembered the sequence of events, the Lexington men had “turned from said Troops” and were “making their escape,” but in the meantime “the Regular Troops made a huzza and ran towards Captain Parker’s Company, who were dispersing.”28 Thomas Fessenden, who was not in the militia ranks but rather standing “in a pasture near the meeting-house,” also recalled three officers on horseback in front of the advancing infantry, one of whom “cried out, ‘Disperse, you rebels immediately;’ on which he brandished his sword over his head three times.” A second officer was riding just behind him with a pistol in his hand.29

  For a fraction of a second, the scene froze. Then a shot rang out.

  Chapter 11

  On to Concord

  Who fired the first shot on Lexington Green early on the morning of April 19, 1775, has been debated ever since and likely will be forevermore. About the only thing both sides agree upon is the uncertainty of the moment.

  Paul Revere, still struggling with John Lowell to carry Hancock’s trunk away from Buckman’s Tavern, heard the first shot. Many years later, perhaps influenced by other reports, Revere would say that he both “saw, & heard, a Gun fired, which appeared to be a Pistol.” But in a deposition only a few days after the event, Revere specifically recalled that he had to turn his head to view the action. “When one gun was fired,” Revere then testified, “I heard the report, turned my head, and saw the smoake in front of the Troops, they imeditly gave a great shout, ran a few paces, and then the whole fired.”1 When Revere turned around at the shot, he could not see the Lexington militia. A building, probably Jonathan Harrington’s house, blocked Revere’s view of that part of the green closest to him.

  Captain Parker, having already “ordered our Militia to disperse and not to fire,” testified only that the regulars “rushed furiously” and fired “without receiving any provocation therefor from us.”2 John Robbins, who was in the militia’s front rank, agreed that the company was dispersing when three British officers yelled, “ ‘Fire, by God, fire;’ at which moment we received a very heavy and close fire from them.” Robbins believed that Parker’s men “had not then fired a gun.”3

  Local spectators reported much the same thing. Timothy Smith of Lexington was near the green when he “saw the Regular Troops fire on the Lexington Company, before the latter fired a gun.” Smith, who was likely standing behind and to the right of the front militia line, had started to run away when another volley was unleashed in his general direction. By the time Smith cautiously returned to the common, he saw “eight of the Lexington men who were killed, and lay bleeding, at a considerable distance from each other,” suggesting they had in fact been dispersing.4

  AS VEHEMENT AS THE REBELS were in their insistence that they had not fired first, the British were equally so. Major Pitcairn, who in advance of Colonel Smith was the senior British commander on the field, rode onto the green after at least two and perhaps three of the light infantry companies that had mistakenly taken Bedford Road were advancing across it. The rebels to their front were apparently moving, but whether they were dispersing, as they later claimed, was questionable. Pitcairn saw rebels sprinting toward the cover of stone walls to the north of the green and took the movement to be a threat on the British right flank.

  According to Pitcairn’s report to General Gage, the light infantry, “observing this, ran after them. I instantly called to the soldiers not to fire, but surround and disarm them, and after several repetitions of those positive orders to the men, not to fire, etc. some of the rebels who had jumped over the wall fired four or five shots at the soldiers.”5

  But Pitcairn refrained in this report from discussing a “first” shot and hurried on to describe the next exchange. Lieutenant John Barker, who was in the Fourth Regiment’s light infantry company in Pitcairn’s van, was almost as terse in his account, particularly given the detail elsewhere in his diary. Barker estimated the rebels at three or four times the number actually assembled and said his company “continued advancing, keeping prepared against an attack tho’ without intending to attack them.” When the distance had closed, Barker claimed the rebels “fired one or two shots, upon which our Men without orders rushed in upon them, fired and put ’em to flight.”6

  One of the most detailed of the British reports is that of Lieutenant William Sutherland of the Thirty-Eighth Regiment. If Sutherland is to be believed as a reliable source—and time will tell in that regard—he knew nothing of the expedition to Concord until troops were preparing to embark from below Boston Common late on the evening of April 18. Without apparent orders and unassigned to any particular unit—the light infantry and grenadier companies of his own Thirty-Eighth were on the expedition, but they were under their regular commanders—Sutherland nonetheless seems to have been readily received by Smith and Pitcairn.

  One wonders if this was truly a last-minute lark by Sutherland or whether he was possibly some sort of special observer dispatched on the sly by General Gage. Either way, on the face of things, Sutherland’s prior service did not necessarily boast of competence. He was commissioned a lieutenant in 1761 and had been with his regiment since 1766. Even in the slow-ordered system of the British army, this fourteen-year tenure in grade was hardly evidence of blooming talent. Whether Pitcairn ordered him directly or Sutherland once again merely seized the initiative, Sutherland ended up with Lieutenant Jesse Adair in Pitcairn’s van after Colonel Smith dispatched Pitcairn’s command ahead of his main force.

  Sutherland was rather definite in his recollection, written a week later, that a line of British officers on horseback—be they four, five, or six, as various reports describe—“rode in amongst” the rebels and called out both commands to throw down their arms and assurances that they would “come by no harm.” Sutherland heard Pitcairn’s entreaties to his own troops to hold fire and maintain their ranks. But then “some of the Villains,” as Sutherland termed them, got over a stone wall and opened fire on the regulars. It was only “then & not before,” Sutherland maintained, that the regulars returned fire.7

  Sutherland was very specific—almost as though he were trying to provide exculpatory evidence, if one is a skeptic—that it was “very unlike
ly our men should have fired on them immediately as they must certainly have hurt” the officers on horseback to their front, which by Sutherland’s account included Major Edward Mitchell, Captains Charles Lumm and Charles Cochrane, and Lieutenant F. P. Thorne of Mitchell’s advance patrol as well as Sutherland himself.

  Sutherland also mentioned a Lieutenant “Baker,” but this only serves to confuse the matter and show how muddled any account of those brief moments can be. There was, in fact, a Lieutenant Thomas Baker of the Fifth Regiment, but he was posted with that regiment’s grenadier company, which was back down the road a piece with Smith’s main body. Quite probably Sutherland was recalling Lieutenant John Barker of the Fourth, who was on the green but failed to mention in his own brief account any ride among the rebels on horseback or even if he himself was mounted.

  However and by whomever the first shot was fired, the first concerted fire from the British ranks caused Sutherland’s horse to bolt, and it took off at a full gallop and carried him “600 yards or more” along Bedford Road, which ran toward the Clarke parsonage. If Sutherland—who was prone to overestimate numbers, at least those of opposing forces—was correct in the distance he traveled, he must have ridden by the Clarke house. What a sight that must have been—a lone British officer riding madly through militia and spectators and then dashing off down the road alone on a runaway horse. Somewhere along the route, Sutherland may have passed close to where Revere and Lowell were lugging Hancock’s trunk, but if they in fact saw one another, neither made mention of it. Finally, Sutherland got his horse under control and galloped back to the green through what he described as a fusillade of fire from which he could hear “the Whissing of the Balls.”8