"Story of the Battle of Concord and Lexington and Revear’s ride Twenty Years Ago"

Ebenezer Stile's penned this poem in 1795, and it was preserved by the Massachusetts Historical Society. Though not completely accurate in details or well-known like Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem (Paul Revere's Ride, published 1861), Stile's poem is an interesting piece of historical memory. 

(Spelling is original.)

Story of the Battle of Concord and Lexington and Revear’s ride Twenty Years Ago

1

He speard neither horse nor whip nor spur 

As he galloped through mud and mire 

He thought of nought but “Liberty” 

And the lantern that hung from the spire 

He raced his steed through field and wood 

Nor turned to ford the river 

But faced his horse to the foaming flood 

They swam across together 

2 

He madly dashed o’er mountain and moor 

Never slacked spur nor rein 

Untill with shout he stood by the door 

Of the church by Concord green 

“They come They come” he loudly cried 

“They are marching their Legions this way  

Prepar to meet them ye true and tried 

They’l be hear by Break of day” 

3 

The bells were rung the drums were beat 

The Melitia attended the roll 

Every face we meet in the street 

Wears a determined Scoul 

For this is the day all men expected 

Yet none of us wanted to see 

But now it had come no one rejected 

Our Country’s call for Liberty 

4 

Youngmen and old ansured the call 

To defend the land of their sire 

The brought with them some powder and ball 

To return the British fire 

For well they knew the Blood thirsty troops 

Would do their best endevour 

To ruin their homes destroy their crops 

And bind them slaves for ever 

5 

The morning dawned the Sun arose 

The birds sang loud with glee 

All nature seemed to strife opposed 

And the river Rolled on Merrylie 

But Hush! the tramp the gleam of steel 

See, See their waving plums 

As slowly they come o’er the fields 

Marching to the beat of drums 

6 

Fall in, attention the captain cried 

Look well to your guns my men 

But do not fire till I give the word 

Leave the opening shot to them 

E’en as he spoke a shot was heard 

And a patriot fell on the green 

And again they fired without speaking a word 

The assassins what do they mean 

7 

Unable to stand their withering fire 

We’re reluctantly foreced to obay 

The word from our Captain to gently retire 

And meet e’er the close of the day 

The foe passed on to his work of blood 

And to search for hidden stors 

With a laugh and a jest that boaded no good 

To the women we left within doors. 

Part Second 

What sound is that said a ploughman strong 

As he stoped his horse in the field 

And looked to his wife who sat under the tree 

She had brought him his morning meal 

What sound is that and he turned his ear 

To list to the far off hum 

By Heavens that’s a shot I hear 

And that’s the sound of a drum 

2 

He reached his gun from the side of the plough 

Where he kept it in case of need 

And his powder horn he took from a bough 

And his Horse became a steed 

He turned to his wife she’d a tear in her eye 

But she spoke like a matron of greace 

As fondly he kissed her a last good bye 

She bade to never spare the foe untill they craved for peace 

3 

He rode down the lane at a breakneck pace 

So anxious was he for the fight 

That he saw not a youth with unshaven face 

Who was running with all his might 

To the scene of bloodshed carnage and woe 

That the soldiers delt out with joy 

His mother said go fight the foe 

Although you’r my only boy 

4 

Go take thy Father’s gun she said 

That he used in the indian wars 

And do not return untill they’r all dead 

Or driven from off these shores 

Be brave like him whose name you bare 

Let him defend the right  

Or snars and pitfalls my son beware 

And keep thy scutcheon bright 

5 

Now the patriot captain’s voice 

Is heard below the ridge 

Fall in men quick we have no choice 

We must defend the bridge 

The little band despersed that morn 

Now sweled to thrice their number 

Stood no longer like the timed fawn 

But a lion roused from slumber  

6 

The British troops with victory flushed 

In wars by sea and land 

Scorned ther foe and often crushed 

Deened naught could them withstand 

They’d fain repet to their farmer foe 

The lesson taught that morn 

That George’s vengance is never slow 

To who treat his laws with scorn 

7 

The Patriots gathered from Hill and Dale 

They come from cottage and farm 

By Highway and Stream from Hamlet and Vale 

Each bringing his polished arm 

They form in companys on the hill 

Where the plough was latly used 

The vandals troops are lacking still  

The scene new courage infused 

8 

With steady step and scowling brow 

Each man his rifle grasped 

And down the hill to meet the foe 

Five hundred patriots passed 

With five hundred guns and powder horns 

To brave great Britains power 

Her trained Brutes her statements scorn 

And the threatened trators dower 

9 

They marched with firm determined tread 

As did ever greek or Trojen 

And scorned to think of fear or dread 

The steel of the British leigon 

One volley from their guns they fired 

With true and steady aim 

Duble quick the troops retired 

And left the bridge to them 

10 

On we pushed across the stream 

The Redcoats before us flew 

As though they waked from horred dream 

Retreat their bugles blew 

Their Flag that never knew defeat 

Tho oft in Foregne wars tried 

Is trampled now beneath our feet 

With Blood the ground is dyed 

11 

They tried to rally—scatered, fled 

With panic stricken feer 

Tho ground is covered with their dead 

No reinforcements near 

For every tree contains a gun 

Behind a fence a foe 

The Wiley’s fox’s face is run 

The Tyrant’s got to go 

Eb. Stiles 

Source:

"Story of the Battle of Concord and Lexington and Revear’s ride Twenty Years Ago" by Ebenezer Stiles, printed in Uncertain glory: Folklore and the American Revolution by Tristram Potter Coffin (1971). Pages 228-232.