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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I will do my best, General. Well, I must be going." The general shook hands with Dick, and wished him good luck. "Don't let the redcoats get you," he said. Dick laughed. "They won't get me, if I can help it," he said. "Good-bye, General Putnam."
The British had killed and been killed by militiamen at Lexington, and had fallen back before the hail of lead from the squirrel rifles of angry farmers at the bridge at Concord. From stonewalls, fences, trees and haylofts, the Americans had picked off the British redcoats as they retreated back to Boston, and had proved themselves to be foemen that could not be despised.
"If they want to fight," said he to me, "why don't they join the Maryland Line and leave men alone who are disposed to be quiet? They will have enough to do in repulsing the redcoats, and should not stir up opposition in the rear of our armies, which this persecution of private individuals will certainly do. I wish some other carried this writ, and I was with the lads fighting in the North."
Barry, however, instructed his little band not to fire until within a few yards of their antagonists, who were now coolly reloading; so, before the redcoats were again prepared to give another volley, one simultaneous crash of the Fenian rifles threw them into momentary confusion; and, the next instant, both parties were closely engaged in a life and death struggle.
Left in front! March!" Luther Blanchard pipes the tune, and the battalion the men of Acton leading descends the hill. The redcoats had recrossed the river and were taking up the planks of the bridge. A moment later muskets flash beneath the elms, and maples along the farthest bank and there is a whistling of bullets in the air. Roger's heart is in his throat, but he gulps it down.
From the windows of Shortlands, on that fatal day, could be seen the flare of fire in the sky not far off, and now the little colliery train, with the workmen's carriages which were used to convey the miners to the distant Whatmore, was crossing the valley full of soldiers, full of redcoats.
Tom waited till he could no longer hear any sounds of the fleeing redcoats, and then he called out: "Dick! Oh, Dick!" The Brothers Together Almost at once came the reply: "Tom! Oh, Tom, is that you?" "Yes, Dick. I'll be right with you." He hastened in the direction from which Dick's voice sounded, and a few minutes later was at his side. "What in the world brought you here, Tom?" queried Dick.
"Then she went back to her prison wigwam, walking through the rabble of redcoats and redskins as proudly as the Scottish Mary went to the block." "She will do it, think you?" I queried, fearful lest she would, but more fearful lest her courage should fail at the pinch. "Never doubt it.
When the people saw the officer and beheld the threatening attitude with which the soldiers fronted them, their rage became almost uncontrollable. "Fire, you lobsterbacks!" bellowed some. "You dare not fire, you cowardly redcoats!" cried others. "Rush upon them!" shouted many voices. "Drive the rascals to their barracks! Down with them! Down with them! Let them fire if they dare!"
All round the far side of the clearing the blue rangers were running, stooping, slinking forward, and increasing in numbers every second. In a few minutes not a stump near the edge of the bush but had a muzzle pointing out from beside it. Soon not one but four great, solid masses of redcoats were showing through the trees, less than a quarter of a mile away.
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