You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British Regulars fired and fled,-- How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load. So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm,-- A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore! For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, And the midnight message of Paul Revere. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. At the same time Warren dispatched William Dawes by way of Roxbury; but though Dawes played an important part in the events of the night, his exploits have been completely overshadowed in the popular imagination by those of the other courier. WHAT'S IN A NAME? I am a wandering, bitter shade; Never of me was a hero made; Poets have never sung my praise, Nobody crowned my brow with bays; And if you ask me the fatal cause, I answer only, "My name was Dawes." 'Tis all very well for the children to hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere; But why should my name be quite forgot, Who rode as boldly and well, God wot? Why should I ask? The reason is clear-- My name was Dawes and his Revere. When the lights from the old North Church flashed out, Paul Revere was waiting about, But I was already on my way. The shadows of night fell cold and gray As I rode, with never a break or pause; But what was the use, when my name was Dawes? History rings with his silvery name; Closed to me are the portals of fame. Had he been Dawes and I Revere, No one had heard of him, I fear. No one has heard of me because He was Revere and I was Dawes. HELEN F. MORE. Revere galloped at top speed to Lexington, and warned Hancock and Adams, who left the town shortly before daybreak. Meanwhile the minute-men of the village had gathered, and the vanguard of the English column was confronted by about fifty colonials under command of Captain John Parker. The British commander, Major Pitcairn, ordered them to disperse, and as they stood motionless, he gave the order to fire. His men hesitated, but he discharged his own pistol and repeated the order, whereupon a deadly volley killed eight of the minute-men and wounded ten. A moment later, the main body of the British came up, and Parker, seeing the folly of resistance, ordered his men to retire. LEXINGTON[3] [April 19, 1775] From "Psalm of the West"