daring, that we, whose lives are cast on these favored spots, can become indifferent to the exhortation, which breathes to us from every sod of the valley. Those principles, which others may adopt on the colder ground of reason and truth, we are bound to support by the dearest and deepest feelings. Wheresoever the torch of liberty shall expire, wheresoever the manly simplicity of our land shall perish beneath the poison of luxury, wheresoever the cause which called our fathers this day to arms, and the principles which sustained their hearts in that stern encounter, may be deserted or betrayed, it shall not, fellow-citizens, it shall not be on the soil which was moistened with their blood. The names of Marathon and Thermopylæ, after ages of subjection, still nerve the arm of the Grecian patriot; and should the foot of a tyrant, or of a slave, approach these venerated spots, the noble hearts that bled at Lexington and Concord, "all dust as they are," would beat beneath the sod with indignation. Honor, this day, to the venerable survivors of that momentous day which tried men's souls. Great is the happiness they are permitted to enjoy, in uniting, within the compass of their own experience, the doubtful struggles and the full-blown prosperity of our happy land. May they share the welfare they witness around them; it is the work of their hands, the fruit of their toils, the price of their lives freely hazarded, that their children might live free. Bravely they dared; patiently-ay, more than patiently-heroically, piously, they suffered; largely, richly may they enjoy. Most of their companions are already departed; let us renew our tribute of respect this day to their honored memory. Numbers present will recollect the affecting solemnities with which you accompanied to his last home the brave and lamented Buttrick. With trailing banners, and mournful music, and all the touching ensigns of military sorrow, you followed the bier of the fallen soldier over the ground where he led the determined band of patriots on the morning of the revolution. But chiefly to those who fell; to those who stood in the breach, at the breaking of that day of blood at Lexington; to those who joined in battle, and died honorably, facing the foe at Concord; to those who fell in the gallant pursuit of the flying enemy, let us this day pay a tribute of grateful admiration. The old and the young; the gray-haired veteran, the stripling in the flower of youth; husbands, fathers, brethren, sons, they stood side by side, and fell together, like the beauty of Israel, on their high places. We have founded this day a monument to their memory. When the hands that rear it are motionless, when the feeble voice is silent, which now speaks our fathers' praise, the graven stone shall bear witness to other ages of our gratitude and their worth. And ages still farther on, when the monument itself, like those who build it, shall have crumbled to dust, the happy aspect of the land which our fathers redeemed shall remain, one common, eternal monument to their memory. NOTES. NOTE A, p. 82. THAT the lanterns were observed in Charlestown, we are informed by Colonel Revere, in the interesting communication in the Collections of the Historical Society, from which this part of the narrative is chiefly taken. A tradition by private channels has descended, that these lanterns in the North Church were quickly noticed by the officers of the British army on duty on the evening of the 18th, who, to prevent the alarm being communicated by these signals into the country, hastened to the church to extinguish them. Their steps were heard on the stairs in the tower of the church, by the sexton, who had lighted the lanterns. To escape discovery, he himself extinguished the lanterns, and passing by the officers on the stairs, concealed himself in the vaults of the church. He was, a day or two after, arrested, while discharging the duties of his office at a funeral, tried, and condemned to death; but respited, on a threat of retaliation from General Washington, and finally exchanged. This anecdote was related to me, with many circumstances of particularity, by one who had often heard it from the sexton himself. NOTE B, p. 87. It will be perceived, that, in drawing up the account of the transactions at Lexington, reference has been had to the testimony contained in the pamphlet lately published, entitled, "History of the Battle at Lexington, on the morning of the 19th of April, 1775. By Elias Phinney." While in this pamphlet several interesting facts are added, on the strength of the depositions of surviving actors in the scene to the accounts previously existing, there is nothing, perhaps, in them which may not be reconciled with those previously existing accounts, if due allowance be made for the sole object for which the latter were originally published, (to show that the British were the aggressors;) for the hurry and confusion of the moment; and for the different aspect of the scene, as witnessed by different persons, from different points of view. It has, however, been my aim, not to pronounce on questions in controversy, but to state the impression left on my own mind, after an attentive examination of all the evidence. NOTE C, p. 92. An interesting anecdote relative to this march of Lord Percy has been communicated to me by a veteran of the revolution, who bore his part in the events of the day. Intelligence having been promptly received of Lord Percy's being detached, the selectmen of Cambridge, by order of the Committee of Safety, caused the planks of the Old Brighton Bridge to be taken up. Had this been effectually done, it would have arrested the progress of Lord Percy. But the planks, though all taken up, instead of being thrown into the river or removed to a distance, were piled up on the causeway, at the Cambridge end of the bridge. But little time was therefore lost by Lord Percy in sending over men upon the string-pieces of the bridge, who replaced the planks, so as to admit the passage of the troops. This was, however, so hastily and insecurely done, that when a convoy of provision wagons, with a sergeant's guard, which had followed in the rear of the reënforcement, reached the bridge, the planks were found to be too loosely laid to admit a safe passage; and a good deal of time was consumed in adjusting them. The convoy at length passed; but after such a delay, that Lord Percy's army was out of sight. The officer who commanded the convoy was unacquainted with the roads, and was misdirected by the inhabitants at Cambridge. Having, at last, after much lost time, been put into the right road, the body of troops under Lord Percy was so far advanced, as to afford the convoy no protection. A plan was accordingly laid and executed by the citizens of West Cambridge (then Menotomy) to arrest this convoy. The alarum-list, or body of exempts, under Captain Frost, by whom this exploit was effected, acted under the direction of a negro, who had served in the French war, and who, on this occasion, displayed the utmost skill and spirit. The history of Gordon, and the other accounts which follow him, attribute the capture of the convoy to the Rev. Dr Payson, of Chelsea. Those who have further information alone can judge between the two accounts. The Rev. Mr Thaxter, of Edgartown, in a letter lately (1825) published in the "United States Literary Gazette," has ascribed the same exploit to the Rev. Edward Brooks, of Medford. Mr Brooks early hastened to the field, as a volunteer, that day; and is said to have preserved the life of Lieutenant Gould, of the 18th regiment, who was made prisoner at Concord Bridge; but there is, I believe, no ground for ascribing to him the conduct of the affair in question. PRINCIPLE OF THE AMERICAN CONSTITUTIONS." FELLOW-CITIZENS : Ir belongs to us, with strong propriety, to celebrate this day. The town of Cambridge and the county of Middlesex are filled with the vestiges of the revolution: whithersoever we turn our eyes, we behold some memento of its opening scenes. The first Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, after its adjournment at Concord, met in the building in which we are now assembled. The rural magazine at Medford reminds us of one of the earliest acts of British aggression. The march of both divisions of the royal army, on the memorable nineteenth of April, 1775, was through the limits of Cambridge; in the neighboring towns of Lexington and Concord, the first blood of the revolution was shed; in West Cambridge, the royal convoy of provisions was, the same day, gallantly surprised by the aged citizens, who staid to protect their homes, while their sons pursued the foe. Here the first American army was formed; from this place, on the seventeenth of June, was detached the Spartan band that immortalized the heights of Charlestown-consecrated that day, with blood and fire, to the cause of American liberty. Beneath the venerable elm which still shades the southwestern corner of the common, General Washington first unsheathed his sword at the head of an American army; and to that seat † he was wont every Sunday to repair, to join in the supplications which were made for the welfare of his country. How changed is now the scene! The din and the desola * An Oration delivered at Cambridge, on the 4th of July, 1826. |