The morning mist began to thin. They stood there, atop the hill, no uniformity of dress, in a ragged line, facing toward Boston miles away. They stood there, bold in the fear of the unknown, resolute in the awareness that all men are created equal by God to chart their own destiny, and bound by determination to exercise the freedom of Liberty .
The dusty roadway passed through the pastures bordering Lexington , a Massachusetts village, an inconsequential collection of barns, houses, and shops that hid the weapons stockpiled by new patriots and the provisional government of the Committee of Safety. The roadway's dust still bore the traces of the couriers led by Paul Revere that had passed that way in the darkness scant hours before.
"The Regulars are coming out! The Regulars are coming out!" Paul Revere's cry echoed throughout the Middlesex County arousing other couriers who dashed away on horseback, alerting the militia. The British troops of General Gage were marching secretly to seize the mess bowls, powder, foodstuffs, cannon, and ball sequestered at Concord and Lexington .
The British line, six companies strong advanced, soldiers marching in unison, buttons gleaming, scarlet uniforms bearing white clayed crossbelts, all in perfect order and harmony, assured in their prowess, training, and arms, resplendent in the aura of the mighty British Empire and King George III.
The militia stood firm, all forty of them, led by Captain John Park. They presented arms.
"Dont fire unless you are fired on." Park ordered. "But if they want war, it may as well begin here!"
"Damn you!" Shouted British commander Major John Pitcairn. "Disperse, you rebels! Disperse!"
Forty hammers cocked in unison broke the stilted silence. Forty muskets still held in readiness at present arms. Forty men, patriots all, stood yards away from the assembled might of the British Empire . Forty men, united, bound by freedom's desire, resolute in their action, stood unmoving, firm, for Liberty .
The British soldiers raised their muskets into firing position.
The Forty stood firm. They did not disperse.
Major Pitcairn, the British commander, paused, looked left, then right, raised his sword, and shouted. "Fire!"
Eighteen Patriots of the original forty fell that morning. The Patriot commander Park ordered the survivors to scatter and defend themselves. These troops began to return a sultry fire on the British soldiers from behind stone walls, trees, and haystacks. They were soon joined by other militiamen from the county who began to fire from seclusion on the British troops. This fire continued to harass the Kings soldiers as they began their withdrawal toward Boston . Forty-nine patriots died that day and thirty-nine were wounded. The British force suffered seventy-three killed and one hundred seventy-four wounded as they marched back to Boston . They had destroyed only half of the stores of the new provisional government. Their mission to quell the rebellion had ended in failure.
Liberty had prevailed. The birth of a new nation founded by free men upon freedom's precepts had stood firm while being assailed by the strongest foe on earth. They were we. We are they. Liberty . Then, now, and tomorrow!
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